Summary: A blizzard leaves the Cartwrights with an unexpected guest for Christmas- the formidable Widow Hawkins.
rating: k+     (2,225 words)

---

Bonanza
~*~*~ Advent Calendar ~*~*~
* Day 13 * 

 

Merry Christmas, Clementine! 

 

 

Ben Cartwright stopped next to the credenza to doff his hat, coat, and gun.

 

“Coo, Ducky, it’s taken you long enough to get home.”

 

Ben turned and looked toward the fireplace.  Sitting in his leather chair was a figure almost smothered in blankets and wrappers and indistinguishable in the dim light, yet he knew who it must be.  “Clementine?”

 

“Who else, Benjamin?”

 

“But?”

 

“That bear of a son of yours brought me here.  Sweet boy that one and near as strong as my ‘Arry.  Well, come on over ‘ere and get warmed up.”  A hand appeared from the depths of the blankets and motioned him forward.

 

“Oh, hey, Pa.  Thought I heard ya.”  Ben turned toward his middle son as Hoss entered from the kitchen carrying a tray.  “I’ve got ya some more hot tea, Miz Hawkins.  Should I put some brandy in this cup too?”

 

“Just a mite.  I’m still in need of a bit more warmin’.”

 

“Clementine said you brought her home?”

 

“Yeah, I found her bogged down in the snow and pert near frozen to an ice sickle.  Home was nearest, so I toted her here quick.  Since then, Hop Sing and I been working on getting her warmed up.  Her horse is in the barn. Excuse me, Pa.  Here ya go, Miz Hawkins.”

 

Before Ben could comment, his youngest and eldest entered with a blast of cold air.

 

“Blazes, it’s getting colder than a witch’s…”

 

“Joseph!”

 

“What?  I…”

 

“Failed to notice that we have a guest.”  Ben motioned toward the mound that was the Widow Hawkins.

 

“Oh.”  Joe peered at the figure and assumed correctly that the encased person was female.

 

Adam stepped in front of his brother.  “And that guest would be?”

 

“Miz Hawkins!  Her rig broke down a few miles from…” Hoss’s voice boomed across the room.

 

“Your brother came to my rescue, or I’m sure I would ‘ave joined my dear ‘Arry before the sun ‘ad set.”

 

“How fortunate we are to have you here safe and sound then.”  Adam heard Little Joe’s soft snort, but no one else did.

 

“The weather is getting worse?”  There was worry in Ben’s voice.

 

“Actually, I think we should string the ropes.  I’m afraid this might be the beginning of a real white out.”

 

Ben looked at Hoss.  “I think he’s right, Pa.  I told Miz Hawkins that she might have to be staying for a few days.”

 

Ben swallowed.  “And you assured her that she would be most welcome?”

 

“That ‘e did, Benjamin; that ‘e did.  I do ‘ope I’ll be back ‘ome before Christmas though.”

 

Ben sighed.  “You’ll be most welcome to share ours if you are not.”

 

~*~*~ 

 

The Cartwrights spent the time before supper in preparations for the impending blizzard.  When Hop Sing demanded they come to the table, Clementine Hawkins emerged from her cocoon and announced that since she could not dress for dinner the gentlemen need not bother. Dressed in three layers of wrappers- Joe’s topped by Adam’s and finished off with Ben’s- she took the seat at the head of the table.  Adam’s eyebrow rose, and Little Joe’s eyes widened, but Ben simply took the seat to her right, and his sons adjusted accordingly.  The widow then ate heartily yet still managed to recount two dozen stories about her and “dear ‘Arry’s” days performing across the width and breath of the country.

 

“Pa, if you and Mrs. Hawkins, would excuse me, I have some personal correspondence that I really should be taking care of.”  Adam rose and headed for the stairs.

 

“That reminds me, uh, I have some correspondence that is late too.  I’m sure after all you went through, Mrs. Hawkins, you’ll want to retire soon.  If you’ll excuse me…”  Little Joe swiftly followed his brother.

 

“Yea, Miz Hawkins, ya really should get an early rest tonight.  So, I’ll… well, I’ll be seeing ya in the morning.  Night, Pa.  Night, ma’am.”  Hoss was double stepping up the stairs before he finished talking.

 

~*~*~ 

 

Two hours later, after convincing Clementine to retire, Ben headed to his bedroom. Hearing voices from his eldest son’s room and foregoing politeness, he simply opened the door, saw his sons playing poker on the floor, and leaned against the doorframe.  He loudly cleared his throat.  “Personal correspondence, you said?”

 

“There are letters on the desk.” Adam motioned with his hand.

 

Ben knew his son well.  “Written earlier tonight?”

 

“Uh, let’s just say they were written earlier.”

 

“Adam.”  The admonishment in Ben’s voice was the same as when Adam was ten.  “When we have a guest, I expect you boys to show the manners you were taught.”

 

“Now, Pa, we just…”  Hoss’s words trailed off as he began to sputter.

 

Little Joe giggled.  “We thought you might like a little time alone with the widow.”

 

Ben jerked up, his hands flying to his hips.

 

Adam smirked. “You have usually preferred to do your courting in private, Pa.”  Seeing his father’s face, Adam could not contain his laughter.  Little Joe and Hoss could not contain theirs either.

 

“I’ll have you know…” Ben’s voice mounted in volume steadily.  Then he drew in a long breath. “None of you need worry about providing me with privacy for courting.  What you should all be worried about is that when this blizzard ends- and end it will – I shall still be your father, your boss, and the administer of your retribution.”  Ben turned on his heel and stalked off.  His sons drew in deep breaths and then laughed so hard they rolled about the floor.

 

~*~*~ 

 

By the morning, the wind had gained force, and the snow was falling so heavily that to set a foot outside was to be lost in a freezing world of swirling white.

 

“Coo, now, Benjamin, those boys of yours aren’t plannin’ to go outside, are they?”

 

“The animals must be tended, Clementine, no matter the weather.”

 

“But a body can’t see ‘is ‘and in front of ‘is face.”  Clementine shook her head and frowned. “Why…”

 

“That is why the ropes were strung to the barn and the woodshed.  They’ll be fine.”

 

“The big one per’aps and even Adam, but Tiny Joe shall no doubt be blown away by that wind.  It’s that fierce; it is.” Clementine’s voice was adamant, and her hand grabbed Ben’s arm.

 

“His brothers will hold on to Joe.  Don’t worry; we’ve survived blizzards before, and we shall survive this one.”  He patted Clementine’s hand.

 

“If you’re sure, Benjamin.”   Uncertain, Clementine shook her head again and then slid her arm through Ben’s.  “Now, ‘Op Sing is an excellent cook, but I was thinkin’…”

 

~*~*~ 

 

Ben and Adam spent the rest of the day doing paperwork and bringing every ledger up to date.  Hoss and Little Joe repaired a stack of tack they had brought in and then cleaned and oiled every firearm in the house.  Clementine fluttered about asking questions and giving advice until lunch after which she disappeared into the depths of the kitchen.

 

When dinner ended, Ben cleared his throat and sent a look at each of his sons.  All four Cartwrights retired to the great room with their guest.  Adam asked Clementine if she would like to hear him play his guitar.

 

“Now that would be fine. I’ve ‘eard that you ‘ave a fine voice, so sing out, boy, sing out.”

 

After several solos which Clementine applauded heartily, Adam had the others join him in some Christmas carols.  Little Joe then requested that his father read some of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.  As Ben’s voice filled the room, Hop Sing slipped in with mugs of hot apple cider and stayed to hear the story of a miser’s transformation.

 

~*~*~ 

 

The next morning, Little Joe came down the stairs to find the Widow Hawkins alone at the dining table drinking tea.

 

“Excuse me, ma’am.  Is Pa…”

 

“Your father and brothers are out tendin’ to the animals.”

 

“Then I best…”

 

Clementine shook her curls, the over-sized bow in her hair tipping slightly.  “They said to tell you that they would see to things.  Come eat your breakfast.”

 

“Still, I wouldn’t want to shirk my duties.”

 

“I think your assigned duty this morning is to entertain the ‘ouse guest.  Come now and eat.  Why my ‘Arry always filled his stomach right off to start the day.  He wouldn’t  ‘ave  ‘ad it any other way.  Come now!”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”  Little Joe took his seat and filled his plate.  Clementine watched him as she sipped her tea and nibbled toast with jam.

 

“The wind has lessened.  ‘Oss thinks that the blizzard may be over sometime tomorrow.  Of course, ‘diggin’ out’- as ‘e called it- is expected to take two even three days.”

 

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”  Little Joe’s voice held melancholy.

 

“What would all of you be doing today if there were no storm?”

 

“Well, today’s the day for getting the tree and the greens for decorating.”

 

“Oh, you follow Prince Albert’s way, do you?”

 

“Uh, if you mean we have a Christmas tree, well, yeah, at least usually we do.  We would have gotten it and decorated it today.  Then tomorrow after services, we would light the candles.  I guess this year …” Little Joe shrugged.

 

“Are there other decorations you usually ‘ave?”

 

“Yeah.  Uh, yes, ma’am!”

 

“Are they to ‘and?”

 

“We keep them in the attic.”

 

“Then finish your breakfast and get to bringin’ them down.”  Little Joe decided it was best to obey orders.

 

~*~*~ 

 

Clementine sat on the settee and watched Little Joe bring down his third load.

 

Joe deposited a stack of boxes and turned back toward the stairs.  “Just one more thing.”  He darted up the stairs and returned carrying only one large wooden box which he set with care on the low table. The walnut box was highly polished with brass hinges.

 

“Somethin’ special?”  Clementine ran her fingers over the glossy finish.

 

“Yes, ma’am.  It was my mother’s.”  Little Joe’s tone held reverence.  He sat down, then reached out, undid the clasp, and lifted the lid.

 

“Coo, how beautiful!” She stared at the intricately molded and painted ceramic figurines of a nativity.  “Such fine work!”

 

“It came from France!  My great-grandmother brought it.  It was a gift from her husband. She gave it to my grandmother who handed it down to my mother.  It’s real special to us all, but most special to me, I guess.”  Little Joe’s voice was soft, and he finished with a sigh.

 

Clementine reached out and patted Joe’s knee.  “As it should be.  There are other special things in these boxes, I’m sure.”

 

“Yeah.  Adam’s mother Elizabeth pieced a Christmas quilt, and Pa brought it west.  It’s real nice and extra special to elder brother.”  Clementine nodded.  Joe gave her a wry smile.  “We used to have it out all December, but when I was ten, I almost burnt it to ashes, so it stays put away safe until just before Christmas now.   In that box there’s some blown glass baubles for the tree that Mama Inger wrapped up so careful they made it through the wagon trip.  Hoss didn’t even start holding them until after he was sixteen saying he was scared his hands would break them.”  Little Joe shook his head.  “Don’t know why he thought that.  Hoss’s hands can be real gentle.”

 

“Sometimes we over worry.  I can’t wait to see them.”

 

“If the snow stops tomorrow, there’s a little tree just passed the barn that we could reach.  It wouldn’t be as grand a one as usual, but, well, it might do.”

 

“I’m sure it would, but you are not goin’ after it unless the snow ‘as stopped.  Do you ‘ear me, Joseph?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.  I wouldn’t sneak out and make Pa mad, not at Christmas.”

 

“Good lad!”

 

“Pa has the Cartwright Bible.  He has it out all the time, but on Christmas Eve he reads the Christmas story to us from it.  I don’t think it’d be the same for him from another Bible.”

 

“Most likely not.”  Clementine looked up at the young man before her. Her eyes glowed softly with both understanding and melancholy.

 

“Mrs. Hawkins…”

 

“Clementine.”

 

“Miss Clementine, do you have something that’s special to you at Christmas?”

 

Clementine nodded.  “It’s special all the time, but at Christmas…”  Her voice faded away, and her eyes misted.

 

“Can I ask what it is?”

 

“My ‘Arry gave me a porcelain angel with gold gilded wings the first Christmas we were married.  It sits on the mantel in my bedroom.”

 

“I’m sure it’s real fine.”  Little Joe set his hand over the widow’s.  “We have an angel too.  In fact, we have more than one.  Most are pretty but one, well, Adam chewed on it when he was a baby, but Pa still has to have it on the tree.”

 

Clementine chuckled.  “I have a Father Christmas with a broken ‘and.”

 

“The bowl for the barn elf’s porridge has a chip, but we don’t mind, and he don’t either.”

 

“The barn elf?”

 

Little Joe grinned. “You’ll find out all about that tomorrow.”

 

Noise and cold announced the entrance of the three older Cartwrights.  Little Joe leaned over and whispered into Clementine’s ear.  “Blizzard or not, we’re gonna have us a real fine Christmas.”

 

Clementine’s hand patted Little Joe’s cheek maternally.  “We certainly are!”

 

With multiple Cartwright traditions, a two-day feast of Hop Sing’s special culinary delights, and the Widow Hawkins’ flaming Christmas pudding; they did.

 

~*~*~  

May all of you have a real fine Christmas or the fine holiday that blesses you! 

 ~*~*~ 

 

 

 

 

My prompt was: Almost smothered in blankets and wrappers, and my assigned character was the formidable Widow Hawkins

 

*Author’s note:

The Widow Hawkins appears in the episode “The Burma Raity” S3 E5.

If you want to know the story of the barn elf, it is told in my story “Remembering the Barn Elf”, and the story that explains Elizabeth’s Christmas quilt is “Rocky Road to California”.

 

Link to the Bonanza Brand Advent Calendar – Day 14 – You Can’t Keep an Old Lawman Down – Patina