SUMMARY: Ben sets out on a mission of mercy in the days before Christmas that turns into a fight for his life when he tries to return home
RATING: G     WORD COUNT: 8156

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Bonanza
~*~*~ Advent Calendar ~*~*~
Day 4

The Long Road Home

 

Ben Cartwright was blind.

 

Blind and freezing. A chill that went deep down into his bones, forced itself into his lungs, and stole his breath away with its intensity. Where the violent cold did not assault him, the snow itself did. The sheer intensity of its whiteness and the rapidity with which it fell obscured his vision so that he could not even see the reins in his hands. Hands he no longer felt and merely hoped were still holding on. Ben’s skin felt wet, frozen, his clothing sticking to it uncomfortably. He crackled when moving, confirming that the material, at least, had gone from sodden to solid.

 

The snow fell fast and furious, its thick, wet flakes driven by the wind right into his eyes. Ben was tempted to close them, for all the good having them open did, but the idea was too reckless to commit to. It was one thing for nature itself to strip him of visibility. To add to that by squeezing his lids shut was akin to surrendering all hope and Ben Cartwright was too determined to live. He had surprise Christmas gifts in the sleigh to deliver to his family and young house guest. Ben only hoped that the brief stop for those purchases and to have a warm meal before continuing to the Ponderosa wouldn’t spell his end.

 

As he did in times of crisis, Ben started to pray. Silently, he let his thoughts drift to a power mightier than his own.

 

Please, God, guide me safely home. Or to somewhere, anywhere safe.
Forgive me for being foolish and thinking, hoping, I could outrun this weather.
I only wanted to make it home in time for Christmas.
Watch over my family and don’t let them worry too much.

 

What had begun as a rescue mission now left Ben himself in need of a miracle.

 

———-

Three Days Earlier—December 19

Little Joe went up on his toes, making himself as tall as possible, and reached for the shiny red ornament that reminded him of an apple. “Mama, I do it,” he requested. The tot grunted in displeasure when Marie passed the delicate trinket to Adam.

 

The eldest Cartwright son noted Joe’s angry look and raised an eyebrow. He’s going to start screaming in a minute. Adam couldn’t blame Marie for not allowing Joe to hang any of the breakable Christmas tree ornaments. It was a miracle that last year the toddler hadn’t cut his feet to ribbons, given the number he’d shattered then. Adam still swore that a few of those were dropped on purpose because Little Joe simply liked the sounds of the glass smashing against the floor. Baby brother was just that way.

 

Hoping to stave off the screams, Adam squatted down and called out for Joe. “C’mere buddy.” There was no stopping the smile that bloomed across his face, dimples and all, when the baby came running into the arm he held out. “Will you help me? I need someone to tell me where to put it. That’s the most important job, picking out the right spot for the ornament to go.”

 

A finger went into Joe’s mouth as he solemnly considered Adam’s words. “Is?”

 

“Sure is,” Hoss chimed in. “Otherwise, the tree don’t look pretty. And Mama likes the tree pretty, don’t you, Mama?”

 

Marie gave her older sons a grateful look before turning her attention to Little Joe. “Yes, Mama wants the prettiest tree. You will help Adam? He will put them on the tree where you tell him.”

 

The curly headed boy nodded in agreement. “I do it Mama.” Little Joe wrapped his arms around Adam’s neck as his brother picked him up, carrying him towards the tree. “There!” he squealed, indicating an open spot among the branches.

 

“One crisis averted,” Ben murmured, moving to stand beside his wife.

 

Turning towards him, Marie put an arm around Ben and hid her laughter against his shoulder. “The next is the cranberries and popcorn, no?” She glanced up at him through long lashes, her eyes brimming with joy. “Keeping Hoss from eating more than he strings, our little one from choking from taking too much as he follows Hoss, and Adam from losing patience with them both.” She could already picture Little Joe’s cherubic face with its cheeks stretched full of cranberries like a chipmunk. “All this will be très simple, oui?” Marie made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “I do wonder, whatever did you do without me, mon amour, to assist you? Quite helpless. And hopeless, too, perhaps?”

 

Ben smiled so widely the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I muddled along well enough, somehow.” The sound of another squeal drew their attention towards the tree. “Though I will say it was somewhat quieter.” He chuckled as Marie scoffed, raising an eyebrow at him.

 

“With two young boys, I think you are not truthful,” she teased.

 

A glittering snowflake was deftly plucked from a branch by Adam. “All right, all right,” he soothed. “Brother misunderstood.” The eldest child’s lips thinned when Joe pointed to a spot less than an eighth of an inch to the right. “Ah, a clearly superior location,” he mumbled.

 

Joe laughed and patted his brother’s head. “Good boy,” he praised.

 

As their youngest giggled merrily, Ben leaned down to whisper in Marie’s ear, “You were saying, my love?”

 

The woman let out a huff of impatience. “Perhaps, it is true, Joseph is the loudest.” Her annoyance was merely for show as Marie demonstrated by standing on tip toe to brush a kiss against his lips.

 

Regrettably, they kept things chaste and Ben was forced to settle for holding Marie close as they kept an eye on the boys as they decorated the fragrant pine. “Actually, there’s another crisis for us to solve,” he confessed. “Choosing who gets to place the angel on the tree this year. Or will their lovely mother do the honors to keep the peace?”

 

Marie tapped a finger against her chin as she considered how best to solve that potential domestic dilemma. Suddenly, her whole body went still as her ears caught a faint sound from outside. “Ben, listen,” she murmured.

 

The sound grew louder, a sort of uneven thumping. Ben moved to the sideboard to get his gun while Adam passed Joe to Hoss before striding to the window behind Pa’s desk. The young man scrubbed at it with his hand to clear away the frost before peeking outside. He could make out a medium-sized rounded shape of some sort. A patch of blue shone through the snow, indicating a human, rather than an animal, had collapsed outside. “Pa, over here!”

 

Ben hurried to the window just in time to see a boot emerge from the rounded shape and kick the side of the house. A sense of urgency filled him as Ben rushed towards the door, shouting orders as he did. “Get a chair near the fire, put more logs on it! Marie, get more blankets. HOP SING!” Not stopping to answer any of the inquiries shouted back, Ben threw open the front door and rushed into the freezing winter morning. His boots skidded across the icy on the wooden boards as he rounded the corner with speed, forcing him to grasp on to porch upright to keep from falling.

 

Reaching the lump of what he could now identify as a boy in a snow-covered coat at least two sizes too large for him, Ben scooped the child up. The journey back across the porch was slower, each step more measured and deliberate in hopes of avoiding a fall.

 

Though confusion and a bevy of questions were left in Ben’s wake, his instructions were followed precisely. The boy was wrapped in quilts by the fire, being carefully rewarmed again the moment the pair entered the house. Hop Sing and Ben rubbed his arms and legs to get the blood moving again while Marie tried to gently coax him to swallow some hot tea. Concerns about the tree and its ornaments evaporated as they worked to revive the half-frozen child.

 

For once, even Joe was quiet. The small boy stood transfixed as he watched his parents and Hop Sing work frantically, their brows creased with worry, laughter gone from their voices. That could only last so long and having him try to ‘help’ or get into everything under the sun was going to be a hindrance. With that in mind, Adam gently nudged Hoss and inclined his head towards Little Joe. “Get him a cookie or two and take him upstairs to play for a while.”

 

Hoss could see the sense in Adam’s idea, and he was happy there was something he could do to help, given the dire turn the morning was taking. The fact that there were cookies involved sure didn’t hurt either! Yet he hesitated before calling Joe, a pensive look on his face as he observed the boy by the hearth. “Reckon Jerry will be all right? I wonder if his Mama’s in trouble.”

 

Squeezing Hoss’s shoulder, Adam offered a smile full of confidence; or at least more of it than he felt at that moment. “Hop Sing’s here, isn’t he?” To the Cartwright family, there was no greater healer. “Now go on, get Joe out of here before he starts to be a pain.”

 

Only once the pair were upstairs, and Adam heard the door close, did he approach Pa. “Did you know that’s Jerry Crane?” he asked, including Marie in his glance.

 

Marie frowned, shaking her head. “It cannot be.” Even while disputing the fact, she gave greater scrutiny to the young boy whose color was just beginning to return. “That is too far from here for such a young one to walk, especially in this weather.”

 

Jerry moved his head away from the tea still being forced on him. “Horse.” He just managed to whisper the word. “Slipped. Died.”

 

“Don’t try to speak,” Hop Sing directed. “Must rest.”

 

Determined to deliver his message now that he recovered enough to talk a little, Jerry continued, even as Hop Sing scowled. “Need sleigh. Baby’s comin’ soon.”

 

“Mon Dieu,” Marie murmured. She turned worried eyes to Ben, thinking of Mrs. Crane. She’d been widowed three months earlier while pregnant with her fifth child. Jerry was the oldest at ten. “She is alone.”

 

“And snowed in. Every winter that whole area gets snowed in. That’s why he came here Pa, despite the distance. The sleigh will get in there,” Adam pointed out.

 

“Then that’s what we’ll do. Hop Sing—” Ben turned to ask his friend and the house’s major domo to begin preparing baskets of food to take, and warm bricks for the trip. There was no need, as he spotted Hop Sing turning the corner into the kitchen before he could even ask. How does he always know?

 

Adam hurried to the door, pulling on his coat. “I’ll get the sleigh ready for us, Pa.”

 

“Just me, Adam.” The words were uttered with a firmness and finality that his sons knew well, indicating that rebuttals and arguments were doomed to failure before they could even be made.

 

The tone caused the youth to pause, buttons half-done up. Raising his head, Adam glanced at his father, the unspoken question of why hung in the air between them. He wouldn’t ask out loud, but it was clear that he wanted to know, those hazel eyes searching for answers. Whether Pa told him was another matter entirely.

 

Crossing the room, Ben put a hand on his oldest son’s shoulder and squeezed. “This is going to be a long, cold trip. From here, to the midwife, and out to the Crane place. You know how tiring long, cold drives and rides in miserable weather are,” he pointed out. “And it’s much easier for someone to find space for one person to take a rest or stay a night than two. Chances are I’ll need to bed down at some point and that’s when I need you here most.” He caught Adam’s eye and held it. “I’ll feel better, knowing you’re here while I’m not. Especially if things take longer than planned, or the weather turns and I’m delayed. I’m counting on you.”

 

I’m counting on you…

 

Words Adam had heard many times in his young life. Pa meant them each time, even if the task or circumstances changed with the passing years. Having been on their own so much, he had long been his father’s right-hand man. A part of him felt displaced by Marie’s arrival, which shunted him back to the position somewhere between man and boy, while she became Pa’s right hand in a great many ways. Now, here was a task that only Adam could truly undertake. Pa was calling on him to do a man’s work once more and his chest swelled with pride. To watch over and protect the family in his father’s stead was a responsibility he had more than a passing acquaintance with.

 

“I, too, will feel better to have you with us, Adam,” Marie added, her tone full of warmth. “It will be safer for us all.” For her, that meant one less person she loved going out into the cold and out of her sight at a time when the weather was so brutal and unpredictable. If Adam interpreted that as her feeling safer for having his male presence in the house, well, that didn’t hurt either.

 

Adam nodded his agreement, even managing a smile for Marie. “I’ll still get the sleigh ready for you, Pa.” He basked in the glow of feeling useful and trusted as he hurriedly buttoned the rest of his coat and bundled up further before heading outside.

 

Ben reached for Marie’s hand and gave it a squeeze, silently thanking her for the skillful and patient way she navigated her relationship with Adam. He then cast a troubled glance at the boy still smothered in blankets by the hearth, mentally considering whether Jerry could make the trip with him to be returned home. As much as Ben knew Gladys Crane wanted him back as quickly as possible, he wasn’t confident the boy was sufficiently recovered for that to happen today. “I don’t think he can—”

 

Marie cut him off mid-sentence. “No, Ben, it is too dangerous for him. The boy is exhausted and half frozen still. Jerry will stay here; Hop Sing and I will take care of him. In a few days, perhaps, he will be well enough for you to take him home. In time for Christmas, oui? Perhaps you might stop—”

 

“And get a few things?” Ben finished her sentence with a smile. When she playfully swatted his arm, his grin only grew wider. “I was thinking that, too. A coat that will fit him better, for one. A little something in case he ends up here for Christmas, too. Keep decorating while I’m gone,” he encouraged. “Otherwise, Little Joe will simply get into everything and who knows where the stockings and half the other things will end up, or if they’ll even survive,” he chuckled.

 

As Ben and Marie sorted out Adam and Jerry both, Hop Sing worked swiftly in the kitchen to pull together supplies and prepare bricks for keeping Ben warm on the journey. The heated bricks wouldn’t last forever, but even having a little something to take the edge off the harsh chill of winter was helpful and the bricks could be warmed again at the midwife’s home and once more at the Crane place. Two boxes were filled with food to be taken to Mrs. Crane, along with coffee and tea. Packages of sandwiches were made specifically for Mr. Ben and Hop Sing loaded all the parcels himself, despite Adam’s offer to do so.

 

“Mistah Adam come inside, get warm,” Hop Sing directed. “Before turn blue!”

 

When the hot bricks were also in place, Hop Sing emerged from the kitchen and announced, “Mistah Ben, everything ready.”

 

The words set off a flurry of Ben hastily bundling up, giving instructions to Adam and Marie, as well as kisses for his wife. “Don’t get Joe down here, it’ll take me an age to pry that boy off me if you do,” he admitted. “Tell the boys I’ll be back soon. Stay warm and have everything looking festive for me when I return. And don’t worry.” Ben gave Marie a final kiss.

——————————-

Evening, December 19

 

Gladys Crane was in the early stages of labor by the time Ben and the midwife arrived on the late evening of December nineteenth. Both sprang into action at once, with Ben taking charge of the worried children. He hustled them into their winter clothing to help unload the sleigh and put away the supplies before engaging them in various chores that needed to be done. Kindling and wood for the hearth was replenished, the one remaining horse in the barn seen to, and the barn itself mucked out. They were young, but hard workers, and thrived on having something to do and someone with a strong, confident voice telling them to do it. While busy, they didn’t worry about their mother, birthing their new sibling, or miss their father quite so keenly.

 

Chores completed, and the new baby still making its way into the world, Ben busied the children with preparing for Christmas, starting with a trek to find a tree to decorate. Returning to the house rosy-cheeked and full of excitement, Ben pulled out the special supplies that Hop Sing had thoughtfully provided: popcorn, cranberries, and string. A true godsend, that man. While his own children were making garlands at the Ponderosa, Ben did the same with the Cranes.

 

Or at least he tried. The twin boys insisted on sneakily eating the popcorn when they were sure Ben wasn’t looking, much to their older sister’s frustration. The eight-year-old looked ready to clobber the pair when they filled their cheeks with popcorn for the third time.

 

“Mama wants us to make it pretty! We can’t make it pretty if you two eat it all,” she hissed. Her five-year-old brothers were a menace that she found hard to bear.

 

Ben patiently patted her shoulder. “We will,” he promised. He eyed the twins, nearly laughing when a piece of popcorn slowly fell out of one of their mouths. After biting his lip, he raised an eyebrow at them. “We will if we have enough popcorn left to do so. I imagine you’re just hungry, hm?” When the boys bobbed their heads in unison, he rose from his chair. “I’ll make supper, if you stop eating the popcorn and help Molly make some nice strings.”

 

With their promise to behave given, Ben left the twins and Molly to finish the strings but kept a close eye on them as he warmed up a stew Hop Sing sent along.

 

“I want a brother,” Virgil decided, reaching for a cranberry.

 

Stewart scowled. “No, a sister!”

 

Well versed in little boys, Ben could tell Stewart was arguing for the sake of arguing and merely rolled his eyes. Molly’s response was the one tugged at his heart, inadvertently dredging up thoughts of Liz.

 

“I just want Mama to be all right.” Her voice soft and hesitant, the fear of losing her remaining parent was ever present in the little girl’s mind.

 

Knowing he could make no promises to her, Ben beckoned the child to him and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

 

Just Past Midnight, December 20

 

The children were tucked up in bed, having drifted to sleep as Ben read them a story about a fox and foolish hunter. The three of them, plus himself, had made quite a squish in the loft but Ben endured it with ease if it helped them sleep. Once he was certain they were, he returned downstairs and sat in a chair by the fireplace in case either they, or the midwife, needed him.

 

Dozing lightly, the sound of a thin, wailing cry that split the night woke him instantly. Seconds later, Molly and the twins came tumbling down from the loft.

 

“Was it—” Virgil asked.

 

“Is it a brother?” Stewart wondered.

 

Molly’s face begged it not to be.

 

Ben smiled. “Yes, that was the baby. But I haven’t heard what it is yet. Should we see if we can find out? And ask after your Mama?” All three nodded and clung to him, proceeding almost as a single entity towards the door, where Ben tentatively knocked and received good news.

 

Well, mostly good news.

 

Their mama was fine, and so was their baby sister. The twins were disappointed it wasn’t a boy. Molly, however, breathed a sigh of relief. Her dramatic utterance of, “Thank goodness,” had Ben hiding a grin behind his hand. At the midwife’s agreement, he let them peek into the room to see with their own eyes that all was well. He allowed them just a few moments, long enough for awe to begin turning to excitement and endless questions, before shepherding them back to bed.

 

Morning, December 20

 

Up with the dawn following the baby’s birth, it quickly became clear to Ben that returning home swiftly as he intended wasn’t an option. Standing at the window with a cup of warm coffee in his hands, he could see from there the work that languished since the death of Gladys’s husband. Ben’s dark brows unconsciously furrowed as he took in the sight of the barn door in broad daylight, noting the way it leaned awkwardly on its frame, unable to close properly. The lopsided effect allowed cold air (and a ferocious groan) inside each time the wind blew, as did the door to the hayloft, which he suspected was missing a latch. Certainly, he ought to lay in a larger amount of kindling and firewood before leaving, if not check on and replenish any basic supplies the family was short of. No, he couldn’t leave without doing a few things to ease the family’s burden. Marie will understand. There’s time to get home still.

 

His musings were interrupted by the sound of someone moving behind him, taking the coffee pot from the stove, and pouring another cup. Shaughnessy joined him, sipping her coffee, one brow arched as she observed him for a moment. “You got that look in your eye,” the midwife commented. “What are you plannin’?”

 

Ben looked over at her, a bemused smile playing on his lips. “You say that as though I might be up to something.”

 

“Like as not you are!” The two had known each other since Ben had first arrived in Utah territory with his young sons. Hoss was just a toddler then.

 

“There are some things around here I ought to take care of for them before I head back to the Ponderosa,” he explained. “Do what I can.” Realizing that he was her only transportation, he glanced over at her. “How long are you planning on staying?”

 

“Few more days I suspect. Whenever you get young Jerry back will be soon enough. Put the young ones to work with you as much as you can. The twins,” she amended. “They need wearing out.”

Humming his agreement, Ben drank the last of his coffee as the young ones came charging down from the loft. Or tumbled, in the case of Stewart and Virgil, who fought to be ‘first’ downstairs. They made him glad his sons had come one at a time.

 

December 22

 

With a promise to return the following day with Jerry, Ben left the Crane place in better shape than he found it. All he needed to do now was make another brief stop at Eagle Station to pick up the coat Marie wanted him to get Jerry, as well as a few other items towards Christmas that he had mulled over since his trip the day prior for supplies.

 

Unlike the initial trip from the Ponderosa, made in the bitter cold, heart pounding with urgency, today was slightly warmer. The snow that blanketed the earth felt peaceful, the scent of the pines and the crisp, cold air invigorating. Ben felt alive, his senses tingling, and enjoyed the trip. That didn’t change, even as the warm bricks turned cold and he grew hungry as midday approached. He barely considered the snow beginning to fall just as he arrived at Eagle Station, given the way the flakes drifted so sparingly, a sense of laziness about them.

 

What the man did take notice of was the rumbling of his stomach, reminding him of the need for sustenance. Despite Gladys’s encouragement that he bring along some sandwiches, it didn’t sit right with him to take food from the family. Besides, Ben already planned to make a stop here that included a hot meal in addition to making some purchases. After settling the horses and sleigh in the livery, his empty stomach propelled him towards the saloon. There, the warmth of the pot-bellied stove in the center of the space welcomed him. The scent of burning wood mixed with beer as men conversed in twos and threes at the provided tables.

 

Going straight to the bar, Ben inquired after a meal and hot coffee. Within minutes, a bowl of hot stew, a hunk of bread, and a cup of coffee were brought to him at a table. The meal wasn’t elegant, and certainly not up to Hop Sing’s standards, but he wasn’t interested in fine dining. Ben merely wanted something warm and filling for the trip back to the Ponderosa. The hearty stew would do just that, and though he appreciated Hop Sing’s skills immensely, he was happy with an ordinary meal. A man never turned down food, especially when there was a long drive ahead of him. On a typical day, it wasn’t a long one, but with snow, ice, and the cold, it was likely to take double the time and end with him, and the horses, exhausted.

 

The air felt chillier when Ben left the saloon, prompting him to rub his hands together despite wearing gloves. Initially, he dismissed that as the effect of walking out of the saloon, leaving behind the warm food and wood-fed heat, into the bracing winter air. Even so, he instinctively cast his eyes towards the sky. The clouds were taking on a darker hue and looked thicker than they had on his arrival. He hesitated briefly on seeing them, wondering if it was wise to linger. Then he recalled Marie’s request that he get Jerry a proper fitting coat. Perhaps if I’m fast enough and make decisions quickly.

 

Knowing the outerwear was a must, Ben searched for that as soon as he entered the trading post. Examining the sizes, one in hunter green appeared to be the right size for Jerry. He took off a glove, feeling the fabric and examining the thickness to be certain it could stand up to the winter temperatures. Satisfied, he held on to it and glanced briefly at the bolts of fabric. A fine royal blue wool caught his attention, and he looked it over with the same care he did the coat. Deciding it would make a lovely surprise for Marie, Ben asked for enough for her to make a dress out of it.

 

“You seem mighty sure of the yardage,” the clerk commented.

 

Ben smiled broadly. “I’ve been along with my wife when she makes such purchases. Here and in New Orleans.” He was proud that his wife was able to dress well, even if it was just the family she dressed for. That he could afford to provide such pleasures for her pleased him.

 

To the cut of fabric, he added a jackknife for Hoss, a pair of gloves for Jerry, and a book filled with blank pages for Adam, along with pencils. That will keep the various papers filled with sketches and plans in one place. Little Joe was harder to buy for, in a way, because Ben kept finding things he did not want his youngest to have. A whistle drew a wry chuckle from him, certain that Little Joe didn’t need assistance with making noise, as exuberant as that child already was. The storybooks weren’t age appropriate and too long to hold his interest even if someone read to him. A hobby horse made him laugh out loud, imagining the little boy riding it through the house, galloping wildly. Yet the more he thought about it, the more perfect it was. Joe was itching for a horse of his own already, and it was a job and a half keeping him out of places he shouldn’t be if one was around. This might solve that problem rather neatly. If not, the toy was still perfect for helping Joe expend a good amount of his abundant energy.

 

Fruit, nuts for roasting, and a bag full of candy rounded out Ben’s purchases and would top off the boy’s stockings. Arms loaded full of Christmas cheer, he headed back towards the livery stable. Even though he hadn’t taken long, the change in the weather was immediately noticeable. The gently drifting snow from earlier had become thick flakes that tumbled from the sky, sticking to every surface they landed on. His footsteps quickened and Ben hurried to put the gifts into his saddle bags and hitch the horses to the sleigh.

 

As he set out towards the Ponderosa, pushing the horses as much as he dared given the snowy trails, Ben looked carefully at the sky. “I think we’ll just make it,” he told the horses. “If we keep a sure and steady pace.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, as the snowfall came in dense sheets, that confidence disappeared. Visibility diminished more with very passing second until finally, Ben was blinded by the snow.

———————

 

It was a terrifying feeling, not knowing where one was, being unable to see. If he was frightened, the horses had to be half-mad. Yet they kept on moving, ever forward; or at least what Ben believed was forward. Maybe they were on Ponderosa land now and could pull up in front of the house at any moment.

 

Or maybe we’re going further away to the middle of nowhere, to die.

 

Ben shook his head vigorously, dismissing that thought with his whole being. He would not, could not, give up. Not when his family was waiting for him and he so desperately wanted to see them again. He began to pray once more. No sooner had he said, “amen,” than the horses seemed to slow. By now, Ben had no concept of how long it was since they left Eagle Station, and he’d driven the horses as much as he dared. Better they slow now than collapse later. If there is a later.

 

As that thought entered his mind, weighing equally heavily there as it did on his heart, a shape emerged in the near distance. Wearily, Ben rubbed his eyes, certain they were simply tired and playing tricks on him. Yet rubbing and blinking both did not clear the shape but almost brought it into sharper focus as the horses slowly pulled the sleigh closer to it.

What initially appeared to be a rock formation of some kind, jutting out starkly against the white of the storm, now boasted the man-made lines of a slanted roof with a stovepipe sticking out of it!

 

Could it be?!

 

Heart racing, Ben leaned forward as if doing so might help him make sense of it. The closer they got, the more real it became. A line shack! A part of him wondered if it belonged to the Ponderosa, but at this point it mattered little. Any line shack was open to a traveler in need of shelter, especially in a storm like this. He realized that the horses were already heading directly for the small building that would save them and him without any guidance from his hands on the reins.

 

“Thank you, Lord,” Ben whispered.

 

—————

 

Mid-Day December 22—The Ponderosa

 

It hadn’t concerned Marie when Ben didn’t come home on the twentieth, or even the twenty-first. Given the reason for going to the Crane place, she suspected that Gladys had gone into labor and changed his plans. It wasn’t as if he could easily get a message to the Ponderosa to make them aware of any delays or alterations to what they had discussed earlier. Knowing her husband as she did, Marie was content with the thought that Ben was keeping the younger Crane children occupied and doing any work around the place that couldn’t wait. That was just his way, and she loved that about Ben; his kind and giving heart, extending what he could to anyone in need, having been the one without so many times himself.

 

On waking this morning, Marie was confident that Ben would be home sometime today. Late, perhaps, but surely today. That certainty slowly ebbed away as the snow started to fall heavily enough, and with the right amount of wind behind it, to spur Adam into action. She watched as he and Hoss tied a rope from one of the porch uprights then strung it all the way to the barn, securing it to the door. The sight of it, knowing why they did so, made her shiver.

 

The boys disappeared into the barn to prepare for a storm by dispersing more bedding and feed for the animals. She knew Adam was confident and sure in his decisions, and Hoss was, too, despite his young age, when it came to ‘critters’ of any type. You’d be proud of them, my love. Are you warm? Are you safe? Her heart ached for answers, but Marie knew there was little to be done. She and the children must wait and pray.

 

———————-

 

December 22—The Line Shack

 

Despite feeling as though his very insides had turned to ice, the first thing Ben did on reaching the line shack was care for the horses. They had been out in the cold, wind, and snow, and worked hard besides. Every bone and joint in his body protested as he got out of the sleigh and approached the horses. Muscle memory and decades long habit took control, guiding him to the buckles on the traces. Clumsily, Ben’s gloved hands, crackling as ice broke away from the material, managed to unfasten the buckles. The leather felt stiff, like he did.

 

Murmuring soothingly to the exhausted horses, Ben slowly freed them from the harness and guided them towards the lean-to. Though his hands began to shake and his knees started to tremble from weariness, he took the time to brush the snow from their backs and check the hay thoroughly before offering it to them. “You did well,” he praised. “Rest now, we’ll wait it out here.”

 

Returning to the sleigh, Ben collected his saddle bags and slung them over one shoulder. The weight was suddenly too much for his fatigued body to handle, taking him to the ground. He tried to reach for the sleigh and remain upright, but he didn’t grab it fast enough. Instead, Ben’s legs crumpled beneath him, depositing him in the snow on his backside with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

 

Cruelly, the door of the line shack was just three feet away. In that moment, it might as well have been a hundred. As Ben caught his breath and tried to determine if he injured himself—difficult to do while largely frozen—a thought popped into his head.

 

The boys would laugh about this for weeks. Probably stage reenactments! Little Joe might never stop repeating the word ‘bottom’ once he hears me say I fell on mine.

 

“My boys,” he murmured to the wind. “Marie.” With a surge of strength, Ben hoisted the saddle bags onto his shoulder once more and half-stumbled, half-crawled that three feet. He didn’t walk in so much as crash, sending the door ricocheting off the wall. Closing it quickly, he sagged against the wood that stood between him and the blizzard outside. Chest heaving, Ben’s mind slowly began to function again, comprehending that he was safe from the storm.

 

Now, he just needed to outlast it.

 

Once he thawed a bit, that was precisely what Ben Cartwright intended to do.

—————————-

His first inclination that he was not on the Ponderosa came when Ben tried to make his way to the stove and nearly fell face first onto the floor. Unlike outside, his reflexes were a little faster this time around and a desperate reach for the table kept him upright. That was when he noticed patches of ice dotted the floor and the small, almost cheerful looking pile of snow on the table. Eyes roaming the line shack, its disrepair became evident. A piece of roofing here and there was missing, small enough that it only mattered when it rained, or snowed. The chinking between the slabs of wood was haphazardly done, cracked in places; several floorboards and part of the north wall were beginning to rot from moisture.

 

The cold wind gained easy admittance through every hole and crevice, along with snow that would melt and freeze once he got a fire going. The integrity of the whole place as a shelter was diminished and no Ponderosa line shack would ever be allowed to deteriorate in this way.

 

Whoever the place belonged to left good hay for the horses and little else, as it turned out. Ben used the flint and steel from his tinderbox to start a fire in the stove before beginning a thorough inspection of the meagre resources. There was a grand total of two cans of beans for food, along with a pot to cook them in and an assortment of eating utensils. A loud groan escaped as Ben realized that while there was a coffee pot, not a spec of coffee or tea was to be found. At least I’ve the means to melt snow! For warmth, a single, thin blanket was spread across the cot, and he estimated there was enough wood for four days. It will have to do.

—————————-

Mid-Day, December 23—The Ponderosa

The tip of his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth, the youngest Cartwright stood in the green chair behind Ben’s desk. Leaning forward, he reached out with both hands for the sideboard. Grasping on to it, Little Joe grinned at his success and tried to pull himself up onto the piece of furniture.

 

Only to be intercepted by his eldest brother, who moved him away from the sideboard and the window up above it. “No, no!” Joe shouted.

 

“That’s exactly right, no, no,” Adam scolded, settling the boy on his hip. “You don’t climb on things. You’ll fall and get hurt. What were you trying to do anyway?”

 

Joe thrust a hand back in the direction of the desk. “See Papa.”

 

Nodding, Adam carried him back to the window, cringing as his brother’s little hand wrenched aside the curtain with a surprising amount of force. Joe promptly smooshed his face against the glass, looking out with comically wide eyes. “Papa? Papa!”

 

Similarly peering outside, Adam saw no one. There was nothing to see at all except a raging snowstorm that began yesterday and was still going strong. The thought of Pa being out there sent fear as cold as the weather outside coursing through him. He could recall times on the way West, when fierce blizzards raged and people became lost, unable to tell where they were. Men froze to death near their homes, confused by the endless whiteness on a simple trip to or from a barn. Pa’s smart, he knows the weather. He’s sure to have found someplace safe to ride it out.

 

Joe repeated his call for Ben, louder and more insistent, as though it might summon Pa to the door. The volume forced his focus back on his brother. He hugged the boy tighter, explaining, “Pa’s not back yet. He’s waiting for the snow to stop.”

 

The small boy scowled and gave his brother a demanding look. “When? When Papa home?”

 

Pasting a smile on his face, Adam tried to be reassuring. “Soon, Little Joe.” The tot’s attention was quickly captured by the appearance of Marie, and he put him down so Joe could run to her. Though she smiled at her baby, it was clear that she, too, wondered where Pa was and if he was safe. Marie was unable to muster up her usual animated demeanor even for Joe, and her brow seemed to be constantly creased with worry. Adam was concerned not just about Pa, but everyone here, too.

 

There won’t be any consoling Joe if Pa isn’t back for Christmas. He refused to allow himself to dwell on the possibility of the patriarch not returning at all. A hundred different questions swirled, some practical, others silly, while a few seemed almost inappropriate to voice even in his head. Who will light the candles on the tree? Or read the Christmas story tomorrow night? Adam couldn’t recall a time when Pa hadn’t read the story of Jesus’s birth on Christmas Eve. No matter where they were, whatever their fortunes, that was something he could always count on; just like Pa himself.

 

—————————-

 

Evening, December 23—The Line Shack

 

Carefully, patiently, Ben punctured the can with the jackknife. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain this,” he grumbled out loud. “A used Christmas present.” He canted the blade toward the outside edge for leverage and slowly cut around, creating an opening in the second can of beans. He imagined how the conversation with Hoss might go while he carried the now open container to the pot on the stove.

 

“Son, I bought this for you. Look at the carving of the handle. Reminded me of all the things you’re working on. What’s this?” Ben dumped the beans into the pot and stoked the oven once more, as much for cooking as for warmth. Combating the line shack’s structural defaults was an on-going battle. “Oh, just a bit of dried bean.” The man rolled his eyes heavenward at his own words. “Just wash it off.” He knew that Hoss would be delighted by the gift, whether it was slightly used or not. Ben’s true annoyance was with himself for leaving Eagle Station in the first place.

 

The jackknife wasn’t the only gift called into service since coming across the shelter yesterday. Or what he thought was yesterday. With the way the blizzard raged, it was difficult to tell night from day, warping his sense of time. The wool fabric purchased for Marie served as an extra blanket, becoming crumpled and dirty in the process. His winter clothes, covered in snow and ice, were sodden when they thawed and drying very slowly. With only the thin blanket on the cot, he had no other choice but the material. If the coat for Jerry had been his size, he’d have worn that, too.

 

Ben had roasted the nuts, eating them while too hot to touch still, that morning. The apples and bag of candy were all he had left after he finished the can of beans he was warming. All of it, including the beans, would be carefully rationed to last through the storm if possible.

 

When this is over, I’m going to find out who this shack belongs to and give them a piece of my mind.

—————————-

December 24—The Line Shack

 

Ben awoke to the sound of silence. His heart pounded, eyes searching the room, his skin tingling with the sensation that something must be wrong. Then it hit him; the blizzard and its roaring winds had stopped. Rising from the cot, he picked his way carefully over the floor, not wanting to slip and fall in the puddles and patches of ice. He made it successfully to the door and opened it. Though he hadn’t thrown it wide, even the few inches allowed an avalanche of snow to pile inside, revealing a whole drift sat right outside the door.

 

That wasn’t there when I checked the horses last.

 

Sighing heavily, the man shook his head. At least it’s not snowing any longer. Now, I just need to dig myself out of here, figure out where I am, and get home!

 

There wasn’t a force in the world great enough to stop him from doing just that. Even if he had to scoop the snow with the pot from the stove, Ben Cartwright was going home.

—————————-

December 24—The Ponderosa

 

The end of the blizzard brought renewed hope to the Cartwrights waiting for Ben at the Ponderosa. Yet as the day stretched on with no sign of his return, the hope that burned bright that morning began to dim. No matter where Ben started his journey from, there was no reason at all for him not to be home by midday. Or early evening at the very latest.

 

Marie tried valiantly to keep everyone’s spirits up, even talking Hop Sing into allowing her to bake with Little Joe, Hoss, and Jerry. But that didn’t distract Hoss, who knew that things weren’t right. He saw the way Mama and Adam glanced at one another, something passing between them that made a big knot form in his belly. The sound of his big brother pacing as they worked in the kitchen made him feel afraid. Yet Hoss couldn’t bring himself to ask the questions swirling in his mind about Pa and what they’d do if he didn’t come home.

 

All attempts at trying to muster up Christmas spirit were abandoned by everyone but Little Joe. Clad in his nightshirt, the little boy urged his family to sing carols by offering his own renditions and shouting for them to join in. The off tune singing and blending of lyrics from Hark the Herald Angels Sing, Silent Night, and O Christmas Tree in a nonsensical composition of his own was usually the sort of thing to make his family laugh. Tonight, Hoss barely chuckled, and Mama and Adam ignored him entirely.

 

Angry at the lack of attention and no forthcoming praise for his wonderful singing, Little Joe stomped off towards Ben’s desk, intent on taking up his vigil from the sideboard once again.

 

Adam stood facing the hearth, his right hand splayed on one of the many large rocks he and Pa gathered to build it. Fearful thoughts filled his mind, so all-consuming that he never heard Marie approaching and jumped at the touch of her hand on his shoulder.

 

“It is time for the story, no?” Marie asked softly. Though he tried to mask his emotions, she could see the agony in his eyes. “I think we need to read it together. Your father would wish this.”

 

Not trusting himself to speak at first, he offered a curt nod. At last, Adam asked, “Who should do it?”

 

While his wife and eldest son discussed that weighty question, Ben drove the sleigh into the yard. He was exhausted, cold, hungry, and dirty; but he was home. As he began to offer a prayer of thanks to the Lord, a little face smooshed in a window caught his eye.

 

That boy is going to scuff my sideboard!

 

“JOSEPH!” Ben thundered. “Get down from there!” He watched his youngest’s cherubic face pull back slightly from the glass, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ then begin waving enthusiastically with one hand while pointing at him with the other.

 

At the shout from outside, three heads snapped in the direction of the door, their hearts pounding wildly. Adam headed for the door just as Joe started screaming, “Papa! Papa!” and thumping the window with his index finger. Not even pausing to remove the tot from the sideboard, Adam threw open the front door.

 

“It’s Pa! It’s Pa!” His shouting was no less enthusiastic than Joe’s. He reached for his coat, throwing it on while hurling himself out the door, with Hoss right behind him. Little Joe climbed down from the sideboard and went after them in just his nightshirt and boots.

 

“Mon petit!” Marie called, laughing as she ran to catch up to him, her coat and his in her hands. By the time she made it to the sleigh, her husband was buried under their three boys. Even Adam was holding on to him fiercely. With a grin, she plucked Little Joe from the pile. “You need your coat, do you not feel how cold it is? Papa wants to come inside anyway.”

 

As she struggled with the tot who was far more interested in Ben than being warm, Marie glanced at her husband and smiled. “Welcome home, my love.”

 

There had never been a better welcome, nor a happier Christmas Eve at the Ponderosa.

 

THE END

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: Special thanks to my gem of a beta reader, Pat D in PA for her wonderful skills and encouragement!

 

 

REQUIRED PROMPT: the cold wind gaining easy admittance through every hole and crevice
CHARACTER: Ben

Link to the Bonanza Brand Advent Calendar – Day 5 – Ponderosa Yuletide Wit – wx4rmk