Summary: Joe and Hoss form Cartwright Brothers’ Christmas Trees, selling trees to familiar faces all over Virginia City.

Rating: G | Word Count: 4,133

Bonanza
~*~*~* Advent Calendar ~*~*~*
Day 3 *

 The Twelve Trees of Christmas

1.

Joe Cartwright surveyed the fragrant green piles of cut trees, filling the backs of two wagons, with considerable pride and satisfaction.  It had taken him and Hoss – mostly Hoss, but he’d supervised – all of yesterday, including well into the evening, to get them all chopped down and loaded, but the result was well worth it.

“I’m telling you, Hoss, we’re going to have a tidy profit by the end of today,” Joe said, slapping his big brother on the arm.

Hoss gave a low whistle, clearly impressed.  “It really is something, how you convinced all them people to buy Christmas trees from us.”

“It just takes strategic thinking,” Joe assured him.  “Everybody in the area knows the finest trees grow on the Ponderosa.  And plenty of people who live in Virginia City don’t want to trek out and cut down a tree the day before Christmas – too busy or they haven’t got a wagon.  A little persuasion from me, a little assuring them of the absolute necessity of having a real top quality Christmas tree, of bringing the spirit of the winter woods into their house, and – Cartwright Brothers’ Christmas Trees is in business!”

“Still, I wouldn’t never have thought of it.”

“And that’s why we’re such good partners.  I have the business sense, you have the brute physical strength.  Now let’s get these wagons into town, deliver the trees, and pick up our payment.  We have to make it home in time to decorate, you know.”

No amount of money was going to make up for it if they were home late for decorating and Pa really lit into them for it.  It would be a terrible way to launch into Christmas.  And besides, while admitting to it would be a little too sentimental for the air of savvy businessman Joe was currently projecting, it would be pretty sad to have anything spoil Christmas decorating.

The two brothers each took up the reins on a wagon, and soon their small caravan was on its way to Virginia City, heading to their first stop.

Joe pulled up as they reached the outskirts of town, and squinted at the list he’d wriggled out of his jacket pocket.  “All right, first delivery – Old Charlie Collins, from the livery stable.”

“Hey, maybe Miss Annie’ll have a nice pie baking or something,” Hoss said hopefully.  “She makes a mighty fine pie.”

“Maybe, but keep in mind this is a business call, not a social one,” Joe said, folding up the paper again.  “And we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

They unloaded their first tree at the Collins’ house, to the appreciative remarks of Charlie and his wife Annie, who ushered them and the tree inside – Hoss carrying the tree, naturally.

“Yessir, one best quality Ponderosa Christmas tree,” Joe said with his finest showman air, while Hoss positioned the tree in the corner of the Collins’ small and rather cluttered parlor.  “You tell your friends for next year, best Christmas trees around.”

“It certainly is a lovely one,” Miss Annie said, eyes shining.  “A little to the left, Hoss.  I declare, I don’t know when we last had such a nice tree.  Why, we haven’t had any at all the last few years, it’s so difficult to get out to cut one.”

“Business does boom around this time of year, you know,” Charlie put in, matching Joe’s grand style and very possibly outdoing it.  “So many people traveling for the holidays.”

If Charlie’s business was booming, that was all the better for Cartwright Brothers’ Christmas Trees.  “Great to hear it,” Joe said, beaming.  “Now, about the payment for the tree…”

Charlie coughed delicately and said the very worrying words, “Well, about that…why don’t you come along through here into the kitchen, have some cider?”

Joe resisted being nudged out of the room.  “Charlie, we agreed on the price.”

“Well, yes,” Charlie admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and looking distinctly embarrassed.  “But, you see, I’ve got a lot of money tied up in investments just now, and I thought for sure we’d be having some dividends coming in by today, but, well, with the holidays and all – I’m sure in the new year…”

Joe tried to convince himself it wouldn’t be so bad, getting paid in a couple of weeks – could he even charge interest?  Would that be going too far?

“What he doesn’t want to admit,” Annie spoke up, “is that the preacher came by this morning to ask for donations for the poor, and Charlie was so inspired by the Christmas spirit that he gave him his last dime.  Would you move that tree a little to the right after all, Hoss?”

“I think that’s real nice of you,” Hoss remarked, shifting the tree.  “The donating, I mean.  Real in the Christmas spirit.”

“I also have a lot of investments in play, you know,” Charlie said hotly.  “A lot of very big deals going.”

“And,” Annie continued, “our last paying customer paid in pears instead of money.  Could Hop Sing use a bushel of pears?  We’ve got so many I don’t know what to do with them all.”

And before Joe could intervene, Hoss was saying, “Hey, I bet that’s worth even more than a little ol’ tree!”

“Not the way I priced them,” Joe hissed, but no one was listening.

Somehow, quite outside of his control, while Charlie was still talking about the big money coming in the new year and Joe tried and failed to get back into the conversation, Hoss and Annie agreed between them that the pears were the ideal payment, and no more need be said about the matter.  Which led to Hoss and Joe being back out at the wagons, Hoss toting a big barrel of pears, with no money in sight or even promised for the future.

“Too bad Miss Annie’s pie was still in the oven,” Hoss remarked, heaving the barrel up onto the back of one wagon.

“How can you think about pie?” Joe demanded.  “You just gave away our first tree for pears!”

Hoss looked vaguely wounded.  “Aw, you know Hop Sing’ll really like ‘em.  And how could we insist on payment when Old Charlie gave all his money to the poor?”

“You and your soft heart,” Joe grumbled.  “Who has the business sense around here?  Me.  Who’s watching out for our interests?  Only me!”

“Now stop fussing,” Hoss said, utterly untroubled.  “We’ve got plenty more trees to deliver.  You’ll get your precious profit.”

“Not as much as there should be,” Joe muttered, pulling out his list of customers again.  They were spread all over town.  “If everybody wants us to position their trees, this’ll take longer than I figured.  Especially if you’re gonna be stopping for pie.”

“Now, Little Joe…”

“We’ll have to split up,” Joe decreed.  He had his doubts about sending Hoss out on his own, but at least he could be sure then of keeping control on the ones he delivered, with no interference from big brother.  “You deliver the trees to the Lanes and to Mrs. Riley.  They’re right by each other.  I’ll go over to the Chinese neighborhood with Su Ling’s tree. And we meet back here when we’re done to work out the next deliveries.”  He knew this was risky; the Lanes should go smoothly enough, but Mrs. Riley actually sold pies.  Maybe that meant she wouldn’t give one away to Hoss for free.  And Su Ling would probably invite Hoss in for a three-course meal if Joe sent him over there.  “And we take payment strictly in money – no more pears!”

“I know, Little Joe, I know,” Hoss said soothingly, and climbed up into his wagon.

Joe was not reassured, but there was nothing for it but to climb into his own wagon to carry on the business of Christmas tree delivery.

2.

Hoss pulled up at the Lanes’ house, and had just got down a fine, fragrant green tree, when little Benjie Lane came running out with his eyes shining.

“Hey, Hoss!” Benjie called.  “Gosh, that’s a beautiful tree!”

“Only the best for you,” Hoss said with a wink.  He and Benjie were old friends, a real nice kid.  “You help me bring it inside and we’ll get it all sorted.  Your ma or pa home so I can get the business side sorted too?”

The light in Benjie’s eyes dimmed and his face fell.  “Oh.  Do you have to?”

Joe’s warnings were ringing in his ears, but that didn’t stop Hoss from bending down to Benjie’s level and asking, “Why, what’s the matter?”

Benjie heaved a big sigh that ran through his entire small frame.  “Aw…I heard that Mr. Joe was selling Christmas trees, and I found him and said my ma sent me to order one.”

It wasn’t too hard to make the leap.  “But she didn’t really?” Hoss guessed.

“She don’t know anything about it,” Benjie said, scuffing the toe of one boot in the dust.  “I thought I’d surprise her – and I was sure I’d have the money by today!”

This was starting to sound familiar.  “Did you have a big deal planned?”

“Sorta.  See, I’m in business too, but…it ain’t been going as good as I thought it would.”

Joe had said money only.  Strictly money only.  But Hoss wasn’t about to tell a nice kid like Benjie that he couldn’t have a Christmas tree.  “Tell you what.  Maybe we can work out some kind of arrangement, between our two businesses.  What’re you selling?  Maybe I can take payment for the tree in stock.”

It was all worth it for the way Benjie’s face lit up again.  “Yeah?  Really?  I’ve got real good stock, and you can have my best ones!”

And when Benjie explained about the details of his business, Hoss knew Joe wasn’t going to like this.  But, really – what else could he do?

3.

Joe did not like it, when they met back up near the Collins’ Livery Stable, and he saw what Hoss had taken in payment for the Lanes’ Christmas tree.

“Turtles?” Joe said incredulously, staring at the two small turtles dwarfed by Hoss’ big hands.  “You took turtles for a tree?  What are we going to do with turtles, make soup?”

Hoss shifted uncomfortably.  “Naw, they ain’t big enough for that.  I figured I’d turn ‘em loose at the nearest creek.  I know they ain’t worth anything, but you should’ve seen little Benjie’s face…”

“All right, all right,” Joe groaned, because it was no good expecting Hoss to have any sense when it came to kids.  “What about Mrs. Riley?  Did you get actual money out of her at least?”

Hoss rubbed the back of his neck.  “Well…”  And before he could say more, the answer came in a distinct clucking noise from the back of his wagon.

“Oh, don’t even tell me,” Joe said, circling around to look at what was nestled in near the remaining trees – a big wooden cage with three hens inside.  “Chickens.  Are you planning to open a zoo?”

“They’re real good chickens, Joe, and you know Hop Sing can use ‘em – and a widow lady like that, I didn’t want to ask her for money, you know how it is, and—”

“Did she give you a pie?”

“Well – mebbe a couple slices.”

And he couldn’t expect Hoss to have good business sense while eating pie either.  “Fine,” Joe ground out.  “Let’s just get on to our next delivery—”

“How’d it go with Su Ling?” Hoss asked.  “You worked it all out with her at least, right?”

Joe hesitated.  “Yeah.  Yeah, it went fine.”  But Hoss was still looking at him inquiringly and he found himself saying, “You know, she’s been doing really good work with Dr. Kam’s clinic, and they do a lot of barter over there…”  A grin was spreading across Hoss’ face.  Joe grimaced, and reached into his wagon to bring out the birdcage with four songbirds inside.  “The cage alone is valuable,” he tried, but Hoss didn’t stop grinning.

Joe glowered at Hoss, and stowed the birdcage back in the wagon.  “Anyway, we’d better go to the next one together.”  Which would give Hoss more time to grin at him, but he didn’t see a good way around it.

“Thought we were in such a hurry?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think either of us wants to visit the Widow Hawkins alone.”

4.

Joe hadn’t even meant to sell a tree to the Widow Hawkins.  Clementine Hawkins was someone he felt it best to leave strictly alone.  But the widow bought pies from Mrs. Riley, to serve at her boarding house, and apparently somehow the two women got to talking about Christmas trees, and Joe had found himself accosted in the street by the Widow Hawkins, wanting to buy one.  And the easiest way to escape had been to just agree to everything.  Only now they had to go and deliver the tree.

They went to the widow’s front door together, because when the chips were down, Cartwright brothers stood by each other.

“Coo, what a pleasure to see you boys!” the Widow Hawkins said, beaming at them from her doorstep.  “And isn’t that the loveliest of Christmas trees!  Do come and bring it in, and you can tell me all about how your dear father is too.”

Hoss and Joe cast expressive grimaces at each other from behind the cover of evergreen branches.  The Widow Hawkins had long had matrimonial designs on Pa, and the subject was never going to be a comfortable one for them.

It took even longer to position the Widow’s tree than it had to arrange Miss Annie’s, and somehow, in a way that neither man could quite explain afterwards, they got roped into decorating it too.  The widow’s taste in Christmas tree ornaments ran toward the glittering and the gaudy, everything just a little too big, including the collection of shining rings she pressed on them at the end, assuring them they were just the thing to put a touch of gold on their own tree.

“Thank you kindly, ma’am,” Joe said, tipping his hat and clutching the five rings.  “We’d best be on our way, lots more to do…”

“If you’re sure you won’t stay for a cup of tea and a bite to eat…”

Even Hoss didn’t try to take her up on that, and with a few more strained pleasantries they managed to escape out the door again.

They were already to the wagons when Hoss suddenly said, “Hey, she didn’t pay us for the tree.  ‘cept with those rings.”

Joe couldn’t say he hadn’t noticed this, but he had been hoping Hoss wouldn’t notice.  “Yeah,” he said curtly.

“You want to go back in and ask her about the money?”

“No.”  Sometimes, it just wasn’t worth it.  “We’ve still got more’n half our deliveries.  So let’s just get on with it.”

5.

They tried their best to get on with it.  They moved so quickly in dividing up their next deliveries, in fact, that Joe strongly suspected Hoss didn’t fully understand what he was committing to do.  So he wasn’t really surprised to find Hoss waiting for him with a glare when they met up again.  He wasn’t so sure why Hoss had white feathers all over him, but in the face of that glare, it didn’t seem smart to ask.

“How was the delivery to Daisy’s Café?” Joe asked heartily, choosing the safe one to mention.

“Fine.  But, Little Joe, you didn’t tell me—”

“That Daisy really is nice, isn’t she?” Joe interjected.  “Was she cooking up something tasty?”

Hoss hesitated, then grudgingly said, “Yeah, roast goose.”

“Uh-huh.  Did you manage to get paid this time?”

“We-ell, with all the goose I ate…no, now wait a minute, Joe, don’t get me side-tracked – you didn’t tell me that you were sending me to deliver to Abigail Jones!”

Joe opened his eyes up wide and looked as innocent as could be.  It was a look that never worked on Pa, but once in a great while appealed to Hoss’ soft heart.  “But I told you to deliver a tree to the school house.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think about – Abigail Jones, Joe!  What’d you go and send me in there alone for?”

Joe reached up to put a brotherly arm around Hoss’ shoulders.  “Because I knew you could handle it, Hoss.  I wouldn’t have sent Adam in.  He can’t cope with her at all, you know how it is, but you, big brother, I knew you could manage the situation.”

“We-ell…but, Little Joe, you know how she is – and did you know they’ve got swans roosting on the pond behind the school house?”

“Swans, huh?” Joe said, eying the feathers clinging to Hoss’ clothes.

“Yeah.  And they didn’t like it, a tree walking past their pond.  And Abigail Jones was no help at all, and…”  Hoss shuddered.  “You know what, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Right, right,” Joe said quickly, “not a problem, good work getting the job done.”  He didn’t bother to ask if Hoss had got any money out of Abigail Jones.  The answer appeared all too obvious.  “We’ve just got two stops left now, let’s just get this done and over—”

“Hey, wait a minute, what about your deliveries?” Hoss interjected.  “You must have done all right with the McClures and the Beales, yeah?”

“Uh – yeah, both went great.”

Hoss’ eyes narrowed.  “I mean, they definitely can afford Christmas trees…”

They definitely could.  Mr. McClure owned a bank, and Mr. Beale was one of the wealthiest mine owners in town.  But besides both having money, they had something else in common – lovely daughters.

Joe had had every intention of insisting on monetary payment when he arrived at the McClures, but then Ellie McClure had emerged from the small barn behind the house carrying a pail of milk, looking all sweet and fresh and charming, and he’d got to talking to her.  One thing had led to another, and she’d been so pleased about the tree, and started talking about how kind and generous he was, and it had somehow seemed the most natural thing in the world to insist on making the tree strictly a gift.  And she’d been so impressed by that, she had agreed to attend the next church social with him.

Since that had gone so satisfactorily, well, it was probably inevitable that the same sort of thing would repeat over at the Beales, where charming Jennifer Beale had been equally impressed by the beautiful tree and his strength in carrying it inside.  And now he had himself a date for the next Saturday night dance too.

Joe didn’t say any of that, but sometimes, big brother could be a little too insightful.  “You went and gave the trees away to Ellie and Jennifer, didn’t you?”

“Let’s just say, all parties were satisfied,” Joe said quickly.  “Next stop is the Jamisons, over on D Street.”

Luckily, this news proved distracting.  “Really?” Hoss said, expression of surprise crossing his face.  “Huh.  All right.”

It had surprised Joe too, when pale, thin Margaret Jamison had stopped him in the street to ask to buy a Christmas tree.  Rob Jamison had been injured in a mine accident a year ago and never fully recovered, setting the family on hard times.  People around did what they could to help, but the amount he’d been drinking ever since didn’t make the situation any better.  Not somebody he’d have guessed wanted to spend money on a Christmas tree, but a customer was a customer.

When they got to the Jamisons’ small apartment, it didn’t look like a likely candidate for buying a Christmas tree either, with its cramped, rather bare interior.  Still, there were some signs – a bright rag rug on the floor, bunches of holly hung in the windows, a kind of scrupulous cleanliness to the space that spoke to someone making an effort around here.

Margaret Jamison directed the placement of the tree in one corner while three small Jamisons of uncertain age watched with big eyes and chattered comments on the size of the tree, the size of Hoss, the size of the Ponderosa, and the general excitement of Christmas coming the very next day.

It all was going well – right up until Rob Jamison came home.  He surveyed the scene and demanded, in a voice with just enough slur to suggest the saloon had been his previous location, “What do we want with a tree in the living room?”

The children fell abruptly silent, and Margaret’s lips thinned.  “I just thought, for the children, Rob…for Christmas.”

Rob snorted.  “Lot of frippery and nonsense.  Why should good money go to a tree?”

Joe thought of asking why good money should go to whiskey either, but that wouldn’t win any points here.  Or he could suggest that Rob take his precious money, get drunk as a lord, and then take a flying leap, but that also wouldn’t help.  Instead, he did his best to step into the breach with the classic Joe Cartwright charm.  “Ponderosa Christmas trees are the finest anywhere around – worth far more than money can buy.  Think of the magic, of the experience – you can carry the wood indoors, bring the magic of the pines and the great outdoors into the house for Christmas.”

Rob only snorted louder.  “If I want the outdoors, I’ll go outdoors.  I ain’t wasting my money on a tree inside.”

The classic Joe Cartwright charm always had worked better on young women than on embittered miners.  Joe looked at the newly subdued children, the tightness around Margaret’s eyes, and when he looked at Hoss, it took barely a glance for the two to know that they were in perfect agreement here.

“No charge for the tree,” Joe said.  “Consider it a Christmas gift.”  And it wasn’t like anyone else had been paying anyway.

“Well—I guess…” Rob said grudgingly, which was not exactly enthusiastic but still enough for the children to perk up and for something in Margaret to relax and Hoss went back to grinning as he carefully positioned the tree in the chosen corner.  And all of that really did feel like it was worth more than the price of the tree anyway.

They managed to get the tree placed and got back out to the street without further complications.  Hoss was still grinning.

“That was real nice of you, Joe,” Hoss said.  “Real in the Christmas spirit.”

“Yeah, well,” Joe said, uncomfortably aware of all his talk at the beginning of the day about business sense and a healthy profit.  “What else could we do?”  He reached into his pocket for his list of customers, more to have something to do than because he really needed to look at it by this point, and said, “Let’s get our last delivery done.  Two trees to the orphanage.”

Hoss was looking unreasonably smug.  “We ain’t going to ask for any money on this one either, are we?  Not from orphans.”

Joe tried.  “No, not from orphans, from the Widow Manwaring who helps fund the orphanage…”  But Hoss was still looking smug, and he could hear how ridiculous the words were anyway, under the circumstances.  He sighed.  “No.  No charge for the last two trees either.”

“You’re a good man, Little Joe,” Hoss pronounced.  “Maybe not so strong on business sense after all, but a good man.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joe muttered, but it was mostly just for show.  He couldn’t really make himself feel badly about the outcome of the day – even though, maybe, they should have given Cartwright Brothers’ Christmas Trees a different name.  Santa Claus’ Helpers, possibly.

They hauled the final trees over to the orphanage, where the only payment they received was an impromptu performance by the orphans, who had been gifted a large number of pipes and drums, and who were short on training but very big on enthusiasm.  And Joe couldn’t really argue that a lot of shining faces, looking at a pair of Christmas trees, wasn’t its own kind of payment.

“That was a good day’s work,” Hoss commented as they left the orphanage, heading back towards the wagons.

“Not profitable,” Joe said, but it was only a token by now.  It had been, in an unexpected way, a good day.

“Hey, Little Joe,” Hoss said, looking in the back of the wagon.  “We’ve still got one more tree in here.  A real big one.”

“Sure,” Joe said, swinging up into the wagon seat and picking up the reins.  “That one is ours.  Only the finest tree from Cartwright Brothers’ Christmas Trees for Pa.  So let’s get home before he starts looking for it.”

Author’s Notes: This story was written for the 2025 Bonanza Advent Calendar.  My prompt was “carry the wood indoors,” and my character was Joe.  Credit to my husband, who suggested that Joe and Hoss start a Christmas tree business!

I loved featuring a lot of Bonanza guest characters who, according to their stories, should be regular faces in Virginia City.  Charlie and Annie Collins appeared in “Old Charlie.”  Benjie Lane appeared as a friend of Hoss’ in “A Man to Admire.”  Beth Riley and her pie business are in “A Time to Step Down.”  Su Ling and Dr. Kam’s clinic are in “Day of the Dragon.”  The Widow Hawkins appears in “The Burma Rarity.”  Daisy and her café appear in “Rich Man, Poor Man.”  Abigail Jones, of course, appears in “The Wooing of Abigail Jones.”  Joe romances Ellie McClure in “Showdown” and Jennifer Beale in “The Abduction.”  The Jamisons are original, but the Widow Manwaring, and her support of the orphanage, appear in “A Christmas Story.”  This story is set somewhere in mid-Season Three, while Adam is still home and before Abigail Jones gets married.  Characters who appeared in later seasons are long-time residents of Virginia City, who should already be here.

Link to the Bonanza Brand Advent Calendar – Day 4  – The Long Road Home – CareBear