Watching the passing scenery with little or no interest Ben thought back to the previous day. His unusual and unexpected meeting with Barney Fuller. What had prompted the man to disclose his past and such a tragic past at that. It hadn’t taken Ben long to realise that Barney Fuller with all his wealth and his flourishing business. Barney Fuller was a man alone. Barney Fuller was a lonely man. What a blessed man l am thought Ben casting his mind upon his boys. That mind no longer as concerned with his sons delayed return.

Inwardly he smiled at the speed and as usual the efficient way Hop Sing had woven his departure into a smooth flowing movement. Sending Gus, the old retainer that Ben kept on the payroll mainly for old times sake. The man not able to do anything other than help Hop Sing with the vegetable and herb garden. Tend to Marie’s roses and run the odd errand. Yesterday Gus was more than happy to be sent to the North pasture to fetch Candy.

Ben’s thoughts now fixed on his foreman. Ben had got the distinct impression that the man had been expecting to be told something other than his boss’s unexpected visit to San Francisco. The expression on Candy’s face was one of being caught with his ‘hand in the cookie jar’. Followed by the single sigh of relief that the man had gotten away with something. Ben having raised three sons he knew the expression and sound very well. Both were more than familiar to Ben Cartwright, having been worn and used on regular occasions by his youngest as a lad, as a teen and just as regularly as an adult.

Glancing at the bulky frame of the only other passenger. Ben also had the distinct feeling that his foreman’s expressions had something to do with his travelling companion. As the miles passed under the wheels of the stage, and Ben’s eyelids drooped he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. It was something he could deal with later. His thoughts turned to the other passenger. A man he had known for many years and until yesterday he realised he knew nothing.

*** *** ***

Ponderosa – Part 6 – Two Weeks Previous

“Mistah Candy…Hop Sing Pondahlosa cook…Hop Sing cook foh one man…Hap Sing Cook foh twenty man. That what Hop Sing do. You not like Hop Sing cook?”

“That’s not what l said or what l meant.” Candy was almost in a state of distress. He had no idea that his words would upset or annoy the little man. Truthfully he didn’t know which of these the man was more…upset or annoyed. He had only made the suggestion that Hop Sing didn’t need to cook for just one person. The last thing that Candy wanted to happen, or for himself to have caused to happen, while Ben Cartwright was away, was for the the Chinese cook to high tail it back to China. Which is what he was now threatening to do

“I know that Hop Sing but it don’t seem hardly right or fair you cooking just for me, that’s what l am saying,” Candy had the distinct feeling he was backing himself into a corner.

“No fair…no right…just is. You think Hop Sing not eat?”

The tall foreman had never really given any thought to the Chinese man’s eating habits till now.

“I reckoned you’d be cooking your own stuff.” Candy shrugged at his own ignorance, “just figure aint no need to cook…OK, OK l figured wrong, l’m sorry.”

“No need solly, hot oven not care if Hop Sing cook noodle or stew…oven hot, Hop Sing cook.”

Candy came to the conclusion, that at the way they were going, round an around in circles. He would have more luck talking to a wind blown, ball of tumble weed. The foreman then struck on a compromise that he thought would keep himself from feeling guilty and Hop Sing happy.

“What if l eat same as you eat. Whatever you’re cooking for yourself?” Staring hard at the face of the tall man Hop Sing considered the proposal and decided it gad it’s merits.

“Mista Candy like China food?” Candy’s smile reached from ear to ear. He had lived on the trail and in Forts from the Ponderosa to Texas and then down to Mexico and back, and had eaten whatever was put up to him and survived.

“Aint done a bit a harm to you?” Now the little man was also beaming a face splitting smile.

“Hop Sing make fine dinnah. You tell Mista Gliff come eat fine dinnah. Mista Candy not eat at big table on own”

“Suits me, l reckoned you’d be eating too, so that makes three for dinner.”

“Mista Candy honorable fohman.” If it could have been anyway possible the smile on Hop Sings face would have doubled. Dipping his head in his customary manner he returned to the kitchen leaving Candy to finish his breakfast and the dregs of his coffee.

The big house seemed to close in around him. It was a family house, it needed lots of people within it’s walls. Voices calling to one another, laughter and funning. The sound of boot heels tattooing across the plank floors and footsteps up and down the stairs…doors opening and closing.

Ben Cartwright had left for San Francisco with Barney Fuller two week ago. The Cartwright brothers were more than weeks over due. Had he, he wondered also taken on the responsibilities of a father as well as the sole responsibilities of the Ranch. He knew the heavy storms and flash floods, unusual but not unknown at this time of the year had brought down telegraph poles and snapped wires, leaving no rapid communication available. But that would not have prevented the Cartwright’s from getting back. Of course, there might very well be trails washed away or unpassable. They could have decided to stop off at some town along the way for a bit of what ever was on offer in the booze and female stakes. But as they headed off into the direction of Turner’s Cross he didn’t think that they would be finding much fun in that vicinity. From what he could remember of the place it was a dead end, one street town…one way in and one way out and the quicker you got in and out the better.

Hoss had mentioned that there was a seed bull he wanted to take a look at around abouts that way but for the life of him Candy couldn’t bring to mind the Ranch or Rancher who had the animal for sale. And what with no means of communication he and they were pretty much stymied.

Candy did not hear the soft foot fall of the small Asian man. Only the sudden feeling of a presence beside him. Startled out of his skin Candy sent the pink cup clattering unto the saucer.

“Land sakes Hop Sing ya scared the hide offa me.” the foreman’s fright dominoed Hop Sing into taken a sidestep away from the man’s chair. Checking that he had not damaged either piece of crockery Candy turned to the inscrutable face of the Chinaman.

“Mistah Ben not come home find fohman with head of silva. Boys togethah, boy’s look out foh each othah. Mistah Candy not bohllo tlouble.”

As the one week turned into two and then three Candy’s unease increased. There was though nothing he could do. With no word from either San Francisco or the boss’s son’s. Ben Cartwright had left the Ponderosa in his hand’s and that was his number one concern. He very well knew that if the boss were here, he wouldn’t be here. He would have left to look for his boys. Candy didn’t have that option. There was work to be done. Griff was handling the horse breaking and the few stragglers that had made their way back. Candy had put to rounding up strays ready for moving the rest of the herd from the high pasture.

Candy was a man with more than a worried mind. Adam, Hoss and Little Joe could be anywhere between the Ponderosa and Turner’s Cross. He couldn’t himself leave the ranch and he had no spare men to send looking. Even if the three men had decided on some free time. Candy knew that Adam was the one supposed to see about the lumber contracts. And Joe should have been working on the horses. For neither man to have it made it back to the Ponderosa to take up their responsibilities was, as far as Candy was concerned more than troublesome.

With these problems besetting him Candy had given little thought to Barney Fuller’s offer. He had put that problem on the back foot. Candy could now understand Ben Cartwright’s habit of keeping the fire in the hearth. It was comforting, it was a focus for the mind and one’s thoughts.

Leaning an arm on the mantle he teased at the logs with the long poker. Candy had wanted to get with someone to discuss Fuller’s job offer. The was only man he could think of to speak with who would give him an unbiased and fair appraisal. That man was Adam Cartwright.

As much as the offer was tempting. His own business, his own house, the wealth and prestige. If Ann, his wife of less than five minutes, at least to Candy, that is how it felt. If she were with him, he would have no hesitation than to take up the offer. She would have been like a queen at the Fuller Ranch. But now, is that what he wanted. Working for the Cartwright’s at the Ponderosa was the longest time he had spent in anyone place. Yet the freedom and urge to move on was still with him. Adam Cartwright he knew would understand that.

He recalled the day they had their first meal with Hop Sing. Griff had not much left to do with the horses. He had worked hard and worked well. Neither Ben or Joe Cartwright would have no complaints on that score. Candy had taken Griff with him into town. True he wanted to treat the boy to a couple of cold ones. He also though had his own agenda. Of course there was the hope that the lines were repaired and that there might be message from either Ben Cartwright or his sons.

On the pretext that Scout needed more than a stretch of the legs. Candy suggested riding out beyond the far side of town. The South side and out to the boundaries of the Fuller property. The house where it was situated, nestled within a half circle of pines could still be seen from the main trail. Candy was pretty sure that Griff had never seen the place. The two horse’s well used to each others company strode out stride for stride, relaxed and contented. Candy knew that the house would be visible as soon as they rounded the next bend.

“Might fine house,” Griff remarked, getting the feeling that things were being staged. “ya know who lives there?”

“Fella name a Barney Fuller,” Griff shrugged his indifference, he was more than ready for a beer.

“Reckon he’s as rich as the boss?” Griff continued the conversation.

“Reckon he just might be,” Griff pondered on Candy’s reply for a while. “Looks like a mighty fine place to live, dontcha think?” Candy questioned. The younger man wondered where this conversation was leading and what in fact was on his friends mind.

“Seeing as how l only ever lived in a one room shack, a prison cell an a bunkhouse. I can’t see how l can hardly be any judge.”

Griff twisted in the saddle to view a final glimpse of the two floor, brick built house. Turning back to his fellow rider he saw not one trace of information of Candy’s thoughts displayed on his face. As to Griff’s own thoughts he wondered why he was so sure that the over weight man that he had seen shaking hands with Candy in the Silver Dollar was in fact Barney Fuller. Griff decided to tackle the ‘bull by the horns’ “what’s on yer mind, apart from buying me a beer?”

Griff’s blue eyes searched Candy’s face for any sign of discontent. He new that Candy wasn’t one for staying in any-wheres for long. Griff thought that maybe the man, now shouldered with extra responsibility was contemplating moving on. Griff had hoped that Candy’s feet wouldn’t have started itching for a least another few months. As then the parole restrictions that kept Griff tied to the Ponderosa and Ben Cartwright would be lifted. That maybe he and Candy could travel on together. Though after Ben Cartwright telling him that Joe wanted to keep him working with the new horses. It had given him second thoughts. Candy was taking no hurry in supplying an answer and now Griff was uncertain as to if he wanted to hear his reply.

“A cold beer…that’s what’s on my mind.” Candy’s own blue eyes shone in a teasing smile of anticipation. Griff’s serious expression lifted as his face returned an open smile and he sighed in relief.

*** *** ***

The two men sat nursing their second beers. Taking no interest in the noises and sounds around them. The ‘Silver Dollar’ was filling up and as busy as ever at that time of the day. This had no impact on the men at all.

“What kinda trouble they in ya reckon?”

Candy met the question with a look of thoughtful concern. He had immediately sent a reply to Adam Cartwright’s wire to his father. Which Candy felt obliged to read. There had been an accident. What kind of an accident and how serious was impossible to define from the message that simply read.

DELAYED.stop.ACCIDENT.stop.NOT TO WORRY.stop.KEEP ADVISED.stop.ADAM CARTRIGHT.stop.TURNERS CROSS.stop.

Candy had replied.

MR CARTRIGHT.stop.SAN FRANCISCO.stop.NO CONTACT.stop.DO YOU NEED HELP.stop.

Candy emptied his glass before giving a reply.

“Could be anything after the storms we’ve had …Lame horse…Joe…anything. Finish up we’ll head back.”

Griff too emptied his glass and placed it on the table, he queried the instruction.

“Aint ya gonna wait for a reply?”

Candy explained as how they had already waited passing on two hours, and whatever the reply they would have to go back to the Ponderosa. Not just because Hop Sing was cooking up a dinner . He would leave a message with Raff. When and if a reply came in, Raff would send it out by way of Billy Soames. The kid helped out at the livery and was always available to deliver messages and earn himself a couple of coins for his trouble. He added that it was not unknown for Sheriff Coffee or his Deputy to ride out to deliver an urgent message to any one of the outlaying ranches or homesteads. Griff shrugged at the implication that someone in authority such as a sheriff would put themselves out for anyone. He had known nothing but cruelty and pain at the hands of anyone to whom he was in the clutches of. Be they his own kin or appointed by the law. That is apart from Ben Cartwright.

“I lay you a dime to five dollars that it’s Joe got himself all busted up in some kinda fight over a blonde, saloon gal with an overspill in the top of her shiny, satin dress.” Griff challenged as he followed Candy from the saloon.

“You got five dollars?” Candy inquired as he mounted.

“Nope, don’t need it, caint lose.” Griff had one foot in the stirrup when he felt the blow on the top of his hat. He spun around to meet his aggressor.

“Do l look like some kind of a fool to you?” Candy looked down on the squashed stetson.

“Never put my mind to it, but now as yer ask….” Griff whipped himself into the saddle and sped off not waiting for a reply.