{"id":12656,"date":"2016-03-12T22:41:05","date_gmt":"2016-03-13T03:41:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=12656"},"modified":"2025-02-18T19:10:21","modified_gmt":"2025-02-19T00:10:21","slug":"damsels-in-distress","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=12656","title":{"rendered":"Damsels in Distress (by Puchi Ann)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary<\/strong>: \u00a0Thanks to the machinations of a conniving editor, Ben finds himself besieged by needy females in a town whose male population has been ravaged by accidents and disease.<\/p>\n

Rating: \u00a0K ( 7,429words)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Damsels in Distress<\/strong><\/p>\n

The brisk October breeze whipped leaves from the deciduous trees scattered among the evergreens on the western slope of the Sierra Nevada mountains and made Ben Cartwright pull the collar of his coat snug against his neck.\u00a0 Risky time of year to be on the California side<\/em>, he mused, noting the chill in the air, with its hint of snow soon to come.\u00a0 He\u2019d had little choice, though, not in good conscience.\u00a0 Jason Delong had been a good friend from the time they\u2019d come west together, and his passing six months ago had been a bitter blow.\u00a0 Though Ben hadn\u2019t seen Jason\u2019s widow since the funeral, he\u2019d kept in touch by mail.\u00a0 Jennifer\u2019s letters always said that she was fine; however, Ben could read between the lines well enough to sense that all was not well.\u00a0 He\u2019d wanted to come sooner, but the fall roundup and trail drive had to come first, if he and his boys planned to eat this winter.\u00a0 Now that was over, and after the successful sale of the selected stock, Ben had sent his three sons home, while he rode to Wilson\u2019s Bar to make certain that Jennifer Delong was also prepared for the winter to come.<\/p>\n

As he rode the snake-like trail toward one of California\u2019s more remote mining hamlets, Ben asked himself what had possessed his old friend to relocate here last year.\u00a0 Just the nature of miners, he supposed, to have that wanderlust, that eternal grasping for greener grass somewhere beyond the horizon.\u00a0 Not a good analogy, Ben acknowledged with a chuckle.\u00a0 Ranchers such as himself might yearn for greener grass; miners like Jason pursued, often fruitlessly, fields of gold, instead of green.<\/p>\n

A nice grassy meadow was what this rancher\u2019s horse yearned for, Ben thought as he leaned forward to pat the bay\u2019s broad neck.\u00a0 Unlike the main stage route, with stations every ten to twelve miles, this narrow trail through the trees wasn\u2019t supplying much by way of feed, and having come from a different direction on his only other visit to the Delongs, Ben wasn\u2019t sure where he might find some.\u00a0 A whiff of wood smoke made him sit straight and sniff the air, trying to discern the direction from which it came.\u00a0 Smoke meant fire, and fire indicated people nearby.\u00a0 A ranch, perhaps?\u00a0 Not the best place for one, with woods all around, but there had to be some meadows, even in this hilly country.\u00a0 If he could find one, Buck would have his supper taken care of, and if it came attached to a ranch, maybe Ben himself could buy a hot meal, instead of making out on hardtack and jerky, as he\u2019d planned.<\/p>\n

Following his nose, he spotted a rough wagon track heading northeast and turned Buck onto it.\u00a0 The trail twisted through tall cedar, fir and pine until a broad clearing finally opened before Ben\u2019s gaze.\u00a0 Not a sprig of grass in sight, but there was a rude log cabin, with smoke wisping from its stone and stick chimney.\u00a0 There was a barn, too, and whatever animals it was built to shelter would need feed.\u00a0 Maybe he could purchase enough for Buck from these folks.\u00a0 Worth asking, at any rate.\u00a0 From the look of the place, whoever lived here could use the money.<\/p>\n

As Ben walked Buck up to the cabin, he saw a wiry woman, faded calico dress smudged with the residue of honest toil, setting a short log on a sawed off stump.\u00a0 Raising an ax, the woman slammed it into the log and then struggled to wrestle it free when it stuck tight.\u00a0 Ben dismounted quickly and strode over to her.\u00a0 \u201cMa\u2019am?\u00a0 Here, ma\u2019am, let me give you a hand with that.\u201d\u00a0 Curling strong fingers around the ax handle, he jerked it free of the wood.<\/p>\n

The woman pushed stray tendrils of dusty brown hair behind her ears.\u00a0 \u201cThanks, mister.\u00a0 Can\u2019t imagine how you happened to wander by, lost in the woods as this timber ranch is, but I surely thank you for the help.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben tipped his hat.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re welcome, ma\u2019am.\u00a0 Truth is, I smelled your smoke and was hoping to buy some feed for my horse.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI reckon we can spare a bait,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cHave to ask my man, though.\u201d\u00a0 She inclined her head toward the cabin.<\/p>\n

Ben frowned, forming an instant and negative opinion of any man who would laze around and allow a woman to tackle this kind of work.<\/p>\n

The woman seemed to read his mind.\u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t be thinkin\u2019 ill of him, mister.\u00a0 My John\u2019s a good worker when he\u2019s able, but he cut his leg bad a week back, out harvestin\u2019 firewood to sell in town, and can\u2019t bear weight on it long enough to do any choppin\u2019 yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben smiled apologetically.\u00a0 \u201cAll due respect, ma\u2019am, you\u2019re not doing much chopping, either.\u00a0 Why don\u2019t you let me split that pile for you, in trade for the feed?\u201d\u00a0 He would gladly have offered his labor free to a couple down on their luck, but he\u2019d learned early in life that outright charity was often rejected, whereas a trade eased people\u2019s pride enough to let them accept the help they needed.<\/p>\n

\u201cSounds like you\u2019re gettin\u2019 the short end of the stick,\u201d she said with a smile, \u201cbut I\u2019ll ask John.\u201d\u00a0 She moved toward the cabin, turning about halfway there.\u00a0 \u201cAin\u2019t got much to offer, but I reckon a meal for you and your horse and a bed for the night might make a fairer trade.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nodding, Ben pulled off his jacket.\u00a0 \u201cA hot meal would be most welcome, ma\u2019am.\u201d\u00a0 He lifted the ax and swung it at the log, figuring that by the time he finished this job, that bed would be looking mighty welcome, too.<\/p>\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 His arms ached from splitting a huge pile of wood, but Ben was whistling as he rode into Wilson\u2019s Bar the next morning.\u00a0 While he admitted it with reluctance, he was no longer accustomed to the type of labor he normally assigned to his boys, particularly Joseph after all-too-frequent indiscretions in word or action, and his muscles were protesting, even after a night\u2019s rest.\u00a0 Still, it gave him satisfaction to have helped those folks up at the struggling timber ranch, and he felt that he had made two new friends.<\/p>\n

He had one more commission to fulfill for them, though he\u2019d had to argue long and hard before they\u2019d let him send a doctor back to their place to tend what Ben could tell was a deep and dangerously infected cut on John Blackburn\u2019s leg.\u00a0 He\u2019d finally finagled another trade, feed for him and Buck on their way home, in exchange for his paying the doctor\u2019s bill.\u00a0 Molly Blackburn had told him, out of her husband\u2019s hearing, that she knew better than to think a helping of her salt pork and beans was worth even a minute of a high-paid doctor\u2019s time, but she\u2019d agreed out of fear that John might lose his leg if he didn\u2019t get medical attention.\u00a0 \u201cI won\u2019t be forgettin\u2019 all you done for us, Ben Cartwright,\u201d she\u2019d said as she saw him off after a breakfast of biscuits and sowbelly, \u201cand neither will the good Lord.\u00a0 You done cast your bread upon the waters, and it\u2019ll come back to you, like the good book promises.\u201d<\/p>\n

Just so it doesn\u2019t come back in the form of heavy biscuits and greasy sowbelly<\/em>, Ben thought as he led Buck into the sole livery stable on the main street of Wilson\u2019s Bar.\u00a0 Molly Blackburn had done her best with what she had to work with, but she had confessed herself low on supplies, saleratus to make biscuits rise fluffy being among the items on the list for her next trip to town.<\/p>\n

Handing two bits to the stable hand who\u2019d shown him to a stall for Buck, Ben asked directions to the doctor\u2019s office.<\/p>\n

\u201cEnd of the street,\u201d the young fellow said, pointing to his left.\u00a0 \u201cCan\u2019t miss it; last house in town.\u201d<\/p>\n

Figures<\/em>, Ben thought.\u00a0 Well, it was a small enough town that even going to its extreme edge wouldn\u2019t delay him long, and then he\u2019d head over to the Delong place and see what kind of help the widow of his old friend might need.<\/p>\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Jenny Delong ladled watery stew into a chipped china bowl.\u00a0 \u201cNot what you\u2019re used to at home, I know,\u201d she apologized as she set the dish before her guest.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019d\u2019ve done better if I\u2019d knowed you was coming, Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd scrimped on your own meals later,\u201d Ben chided as he examined the bowl, which contained precisely one cube of beef, with a couple of slices of carrot and a few chunks of potatoes.\u00a0 \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell me things had gotten this bad?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny sat down before a bowl equally lacking in nutrition.\u00a0 \u201cFollowing Jason\u2019s pattern, I guess.\u00a0 You know he wasn\u2019t one to come begging for help.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo man is,\u201d Ben said.\u00a0 \u201cNo real man, I mean, but there\u2019s no shame in turning to a friend in time of need.\u00a0 I\u2019ve had to a number of times.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny nodded.\u00a0 \u201cBut you always put that help to good use and paid it back ten times over.\u00a0 Wish with all my heart that Jason had settled in one place, like you, and worked to build us a future, but he was always reaching for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.\u00a0\u00a0 Now all me and the girls has got is a mine I know nothing about running.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have a good superintendent?\u201d Ben queried.\u00a0 \u201cOne you can trust?\u201d<\/p>\n

Idly stirring the contents of her soup bowl, Jenny sighed.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s just it; I don\u2019t know.\u00a0 Jason trusted him, and I did at first, but it seems like the mine just produces less and less since Jason died, and it makes me wonder.\u201d\u00a0 She set the spoon down and dabbed at the corner of her eye with a red-checked napkin.\u00a0 \u201cWish I could get shed of the place, but the only offer I\u2019ve had is from that superintendent.\u00a0 Even I knew what he offered was rock bottom for any mine hereabouts, despite his claim that he was only buying the mine at all to help me out.\u00a0 That\u2019s when I started to get suspicious of him, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben, too, set his spoon aside.\u00a0 \u201cYou think he\u2019s dipping into the till?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny set her lips grimly.\u00a0 \u201cHate to accuse any man without proof, but, yes, that\u2019s what I\u2019m afeared of, Ben, and I just don\u2019t know what to do.\u00a0 I know I acted peeved with you for showing up unexpected-like, but I could surely use some advice.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben laced his fingers atop the bare wood table and tapped his thumbs together in thought.\u00a0 \u201cEven if you sell the mine, it won\u2019t bring enough to set you up for life.\u00a0 Any thoughts on what you\u2019d do then to put food on the table?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m good with a needle, and I\u2019m a fair cook\u2014when I have something to put in the pot,\u201d Jenny said with a rueful smile at the stew neither of them found appetizing.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019d like to move to a little larger town and start a bakery.\u00a0 Miners pay well for baked goods.\u00a0 Might take in mending and washing on the side, if needed.\u00a0 I\u2019ve done a little of that here, but I\u2019d do better in a bigger place, I think.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave to agree with that,\u201d Ben chuckled.\u00a0 \u201cWilson\u2019s Bar isn\u2019t much of a town.\u00a0 Let\u2019s plan on getting you out of it, then.\u201d\u00a0 He scooped up a bite of potato on his spoon and ate, gesturing for her to do the same.\u00a0 \u201cFirst thing is to get that man\u2014and any others\u2014off your payroll.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny obediently sipped some of the stew broth.\u00a0 \u201cJust close the mine down?\u00a0 I\u2019d have nothing at all coming in then, Ben.\u00a0 What if the mine doesn\u2019t sell or brings so little I can\u2019t make a new start?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019ll sell,\u201d Ben assured her.\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s cut your expenses right away, and next thing we\u2019ll do is get a new assay to see just what this property\u2019s worth.\u00a0 Then we offer it for sale.\u00a0 Is there a newspaper in this town?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf sorts,\u201d Jenny replied with a sad shake of her head.\u00a0 \u201cRun by another widow lady and about to go under, from what I\u2019ve heard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCholera, same as Jason?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n

Jenny nodded.\u00a0 \u201cLost a lot of our menfolk that way.\u00a0 Women and children, too, of course, but seemed like the men was hit hardest.\u00a0 Anyway, Mrs. Collins has been trying to run her husband\u2019s newspaper since he passed on, but though she\u2019s an educated woman, she don\u2019t seem able to make a go of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben stood up.\u00a0 \u201cWell, all we need is an advertisement.\u00a0 You\u2019ll need to come with me to the mine, to authorize me to fire the superintendent and lay off the mining crew.\u00a0 Then I\u2019ll take some samples to the assay office, while you do some grocery shopping.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears filled Jenny Delong\u2019s eyes.\u00a0 \u201cBen, I don\u2019t have anything to shop with.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben pulled a ten-dollar gold eagle from his pocket.\u00a0 \u201cYou do now, and don\u2019t give me any speeches about charity, either.\u00a0 This is simply a matter of self-preservation.\u00a0 If I\u2019m going to be eating at your table, I\u2019d like to see some meat on it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The tears poured freely now, as Jenny threw her arms around Ben.\u00a0 \u201cBless you, Ben.\u00a0 I promise you a fair return on your investment at supper tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben kissed her on the forehead.\u00a0 \u201cGot to sample the wares of that upcoming bakery, don\u2019t I, if I\u2019m gonna put this much effort into seeing it launched?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cApple pie still your favorite or would you favor pumpkin this time of year?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben laughed.\u00a0 \u201cConsidering how poorly I\u2019ve been eating the last couple of days, maybe you\u2019d better bake a couple of each.\u201d<\/p>\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ben approached the office of the Wilson\u2019s Bar Bulletin<\/em> with a fair amount of ambivalence.\u00a0 From the condition of the building itself, the newspaper gave all appearance of being a profitable business, but having perused a copy in his hotel room last night, Ben could easily understand why the Widow Collins was having problems making a go of it.\u00a0 Oh, the lady wrote well enough, all the periods and commas in their proper places, as best a non-literary man could tell, but the paper had been boring beyond belief.\u00a0 Somebody ought to tell the new editor that only a small portion of the reading public in a mining town was interested in reports of cotillions in San Francisco or the latest fashions back east\u2014and it wasn\u2019t the portion most likely to be interested in advertisements of a mine for sale.<\/p>\n

Still, the Bulletin<\/em> was the best option in town for getting the word out, so Ben opened the door and stepped inside.\u00a0 He almost backed out immediately when he saw a woman slumped over the desk behind the wooden railing, head down on her folded arms.\u00a0 The head rose so quickly, however, that he had no chance to escape.<\/p>\n

The woman, who appeared to be about five years younger than Jennifer Delong, gazed at him from red-rimmed eyes.\u00a0 \u201cYes?\u00a0 May I help you, sir?\u201d she asked as she pulled a long strand of straight, wheat-colored hair across her shoulder.<\/p>\n

Ben paused a moment, not sure what to say.\u00a0 \u201cMa\u2019am, I can come back, if this is a bad time.\u201d<\/p>\n

A weak smile barely lifted the corners of the woman\u2019s mouth.\u00a0 \u201cLater isn\u2019t likely to be better, Mr. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright,\u201d Ben said.\u00a0 \u201cBen Cartwright, and I presume you\u2019re Mrs. Collins?\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman nodded as she stood and approached the railing that divided the entry from the editorial desk and printing press.\u00a0 \u201cKathleen Collins.\u00a0 How may I help you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI came in to place an advertisement in your next issue, if I may,\u201d Ben explained, removing a folded paper from his inside vest pocket.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know whether you may or not,\u201d Mrs. Collins sighed.\u00a0 Then she straightened up.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u00a0 I don\u2019t mean to be evasive.\u00a0 It\u2019s just that I\u2019ve been sitting here, trying to decide whether to put out a next issue or just give up and run back east, tail between my legs.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMight not be a bad idea, Mrs. Collins,\u201d Ben suggested kindly, \u201cif you have family back there to go home to.\u00a0 It\u2019s hard for a woman alone to make her way out here.\u201d<\/p>\n

A livid spark flared in the woman\u2019s brown eyes.\u00a0 \u201cOh, you\u2019re just like every other man of my acquaintance\u2014and my family, too, for that matter.\u00a0 You think of women as weak and helpless, unable to make their way without some man to fend for them.\u00a0 Well, I\u2019m not!\u00a0 I can take care of myself and I will!\u201d\u00a0 She laughed abruptly.\u00a0 \u201cWell, at any rate, that answers my question about whether I\u2019m ready to quit or not.\u00a0 I guess I should thank you for that, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re welcome\u2014I think,\u201d Ben said with a wry smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s see that ad copy you\u2019re holding,\u201d the lady editor suggested, holding out her hand.\u00a0 Glancing at it, she nodded.\u00a0 \u201cSo you\u2019ve managed to convince one weak female to pack up and leave, have you, Mr. Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t have to,\u201d Ben said sharply.\u00a0 \u201cMrs. Delong had already made the decision.\u00a0 I\u2019m just trying to facilitate matters for her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kathleen Collins had the grace to blush.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s kind of you, I\u2019m sure, and I apologize for that diatribe against male arrogance.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben chuckled.\u00a0 \u201cNot the best way to attract new business, ma\u2019am, especially considering the ratio of men to women among your readers.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kathleen laughed.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s true enough.\u201d\u00a0 She looked down again at the paper Ben had handed her.\u00a0 \u201cYou don\u2019t mind if I correct your spelling, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d be grateful,\u201d Ben said.\u00a0 \u201cSharpen up the copy any way you think would help Mrs. Delong with her sale.\u00a0 I read a sample of your work last night, and I\u2019m sure you can do better than I.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust the one error.\u201d\u00a0 Kathleen smiled.\u00a0 \u201cBetter than most men would do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben wagged a playful finger beneath her nose.\u00a0 \u201cThere you go again, alienating your audience.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Collins smiled as she nodded acceptance of his gentle rebuke.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ll try to keep that in mind, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben took a deep breath to bolster his courage.\u00a0 \u201cMight I make another suggestion, Mrs. Collins?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kathleen\u2019s head cocked to one side.\u00a0 \u201cPlease do,\u201d she said, liking the direct way in which he was looking at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout your subject matter,\u201d Ben said.\u00a0 \u201cIt really doesn\u2019t appeal to the majority of your prospective readers.\u201d<\/p>\n

The editor\u2019s shoulders slumped forward.\u00a0 \u201cMeaning men, of course.\u00a0 No, I suppose not.\u00a0 I\u2019ve always heard that it was best to write about what you know, but I know so little about mining.\u201d\u00a0 She gave a deep sigh.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s isn\u2019t necessary to write about mining to attract miners as readers, ma\u2019am, at least judging by what I see in the Territorial Enterprise<\/em> back home,\u201d Ben said.\u00a0 \u201cMark Twain and Dan DeQuille both attract quite a following with their humorous pieces.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kathleen Collins laughed.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ve read some of those, but I doubt my writing\u2019s up to that quality.\u00a0 Still . . . wait!\u00a0 You said your name was Ben Cartwright.\u00a0 Not the<\/em> Ben Cartwright of the famous Ponderosa, surely?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI surely am,\u201d Ben said with a chuckle, \u201calthough I\u2019ve never heard myself called famous before.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, but you are!\u201d Kathleen declared enthusiastically.\u00a0 \u201cEven in Wilson\u2019s Bar I\u2019ve heard the quality of Ponderosa beef praised.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben could almost feel his chest swell with pride.\u00a0 \u201cWell, that\u2019s gratifying to hear.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I just know our readers, miners and women alike, would enjoy reading about the founding of the great Ponderosa ranch,\u201d the editor suggested, leaning eagerly toward Ben.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, well, there\u2019s\u2014uh\u2014not that much to tell,\u201d Ben stammered.\u00a0 \u201cJust came west, settled a piece of property, worked hard.\u00a0 That\u2019s about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure you could tell some fascinating stories of the early days, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d Mrs. Collins pressed.\u00a0 \u201cOh, please say you will.\u00a0 After all, you\u2019re staying in town to help Mrs. Delong, aren\u2019t you?\u00a0 Surely you have some time on your hands, waiting for a buyer, time enough to write up a short article or two?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben held up his hands in unmitigated horror.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m not a writer, Mrs. Collins,\u201d he protested.\u00a0 He waved a hand at the ad copy in her hands.\u00a0 \u201cWhy, I can\u2019t even spell properly, and as for punctuation . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s my job, as editor,\u201d Kathleen said with a sly smile, \u201cand if you won\u2019t help me with something my male readers would enjoy, then there\u2019s no point in placing this ad, is there?\u201d\u00a0 She offered the ad copy back to him.\u00a0 \u201cThe ladies certainly won\u2019t be buying any mines.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben groaned, knowing she had him over a barrel.\u00a0 \u201cYou, ma\u2019am, are a conniver.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo my husband always claimed,\u201d Kathleen chuckled.\u00a0 \u201cThree columns, any time before noon will do, Mr. Cartwright.\u00a0 This is an evening paper, as you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grimly, Ben tugged his hat down over his forehead.\u00a0 \u201cThree columns by noon, Mrs. Collins,\u201d he promised.<\/p>\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After a filling breakfast the next morning, Ben closed the door to Jenny Delong\u2019s home behind him, to shut out her rippling laughter, and tried to hang onto his irritation as he stalked down the street.\u00a0 Failing, he let a chuckle slide past his twitching lips.\u00a0 Though he\u2019d been frustrated by the writing assignment that lady editor had saddled him with, he had to admit the way she\u2019d trapped him was amusing.\u00a0 He thought he\u2019d done a fair job of putting words to paper, although not as well as that oldest son of his could have done.\u00a0 Adam was the scholar in the family, but spelling and punctuation aside, Ben didn\u2019t think he\u2019d done half badly by Kathleen Collins.\u00a0 At least, he\u2019d insured that the paper would continue a few more days, and, hopefully, that was all he\u2019d need.\u00a0 The assay report had come back better than expected, suggesting the likelihood of the superintendent\u2019s pilfering and indicating the possibility of a quick and profitable sale.<\/p>\n

Entering the newspaper office, he saw a woman dressed in homespun and a poke bonnet in consultation with Kathleen Collins.\u00a0 He stepped to one side, prepared to wait until the ladies had finished their business or gossip, whichever it was, but Mrs. Collins waved him forward.\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s see what you have,\u201d she requested eagerly.<\/p>\n

Blushing slightly, Ben handed over the four hand-written sheets.\u00a0 \u201cNot sure I got the length right,\u201d he muttered.\u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t know what three columns looks like, handwritten.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cClose enough by the time it\u2019s edited,\u201d Kathleen said, smiling as she scanned the first paragraph.\u00a0 Suddenly reminded of her manners, she looked up.\u00a0 \u201cOh, Mr. Cartwright, this is Mrs. Marcus Whittaker\u2014the Widow Whittaker, that is.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben voiced a sympathetic cluck.\u00a0 Wilson\u2019s Bar sure was hard on its menfolk.\u00a0 \u201cThe cholera, ma\u2019am?\u201d he asked the woman.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u00a0 Oh, no,\u201d Mrs. Whittaker said, limpid blue eyes tearing up.\u00a0 \u201cMy Marcus met with an accident, died real sudden.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust two weeks ago,\u201d Kathleen added, to explain the woman\u2019s easily triggered emotions.\u00a0 \u201cMarian is here to place an advertisement for their ranch, aiming to sell so she can move back east to be with family.\u201d\u00a0 She couldn\u2019t resist adding, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, \u201cI assume you approve.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf that\u2019s what the lady wants,\u201d Ben said, arching an eyebrow.<\/p>\n

Kathleen laughed.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re a rancher, Mr. Cartwright.\u00a0 Perhaps you can help her word her advertisement so as to appeal to a man such as yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that would be difficult without knowing the property,\u201d Ben demurred.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, please, sir, help me if you can,\u201d the widow pleaded.\u00a0 \u201cI scarcely know what to say, beyond that we have about eighty acres, some in pasture, some in crops.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much in each?\u201d Ben inquired.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I don\u2019t know,\u201d Mrs. Whittaker sighed.\u00a0 \u201cMarcus handled the ranch; I just took care of the house and the children.\u201d<\/p>\n

The editor looked up from her reading.\u00a0 \u201cThis is quite good, Mr. Cartwright\u2014Ben, if I may.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d Ben said, looking pleased.\u00a0 He knew he was no Mark Twain, but he basked in the praise, nonetheless.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m glad you like it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I do,\u201d Kathleen returned enthusiastically.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m sure it\u2019s exactly what my readers would like to see.\u00a0 There\u2019s just one thing, Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n

The balloon of his ego deflating slightly, Ben nodded.\u00a0 \u201cI know I\u2019m not a real author.\u00a0 You just fix it up any way you need to.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, that\u2019s not what I meant,\u201d Kathleen said.\u00a0 \u201cI was just noticing that you mention the discovery of the Comstock Lode in your story, and I\u2019m sure the miners here would enjoy an eyewitness account of that\u2014in a follow-up article.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben gaped at her in utter shock.\u00a0 \u201cNo, absolutely not,\u201d he protested.\u00a0 \u201cOne article, that was our agreement.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, Mr. Cartwright\u2014Ben\u2014you have to stay in town \u2018til the mine sells, anyway, and you\u2019ll be back from Mrs. Whittaker\u2019s place before suppertime, so that leaves you all evening to write.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Whittaker\u2019s place?\u201d Ben croaked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, someone needs to help her appraise her ranch, so she\u2019ll know what to ask for it, how to word her ad for prospective buyers,\u201d the lady editor amplified persuasively.\u00a0 \u201cWho better than the largest rancher in Nevada?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, what a splendid suggestion!\u201d Mrs. Whittaker cried, clasping her hands and raising them to her chin.\u00a0 \u201cOh, I\u2019d feel so much more secure knowing a man like that was advising me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course, you would,\u201d Kathleen cooed, \u201cand Mr. Cartwright will still have time to write that article for me this evening.\u201d\u00a0 She looked up.\u00a0 \u201cWon\u2019t you, Ben?\u201d<\/p>\n

The widow\u2019s eyes were fixed entreatingly and the lady editor\u2019s confidently on Ben Cartwright\u2019s face.\u00a0 Unable to refuse their mute pleading, he nodded glumly.<\/p>\n

\u201cFine,\u201d Kathleen bubbled.\u00a0 \u201cThree columns\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBy noon,\u201d Ben finished curtly.\u00a0 \u201cBut this is the last time!\u201d<\/p>\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He\u2019d said it and he\u2019d meant it, but he\u2019d had to stick to his guns to avoid another writing assignment from the word-hungry lady editor.\u00a0 Gratifying as it was to hear that sales had soared in response to his two previous articles, Ben knew he was no writer.\u00a0 It was the hardest work he\u2019d ever done, and his brain ached worse than his muscles had after splitting those logs for Mrs. Blackburn, whom he\u2019d seen on the street yesterday and talked to long enough to hear that her husband\u2019s leg was coming along nicely.<\/p>\n

Still, the articles had served their purpose in providing a broader audience for the advertisement he\u2019d placed in the classified column.\u00a0 Several prospective buyers had surfaced and were, in fact, now in a bidding war for the Delong mine.\u00a0 Another day or two should see the property profitably sold and him on his way out of Wilson\u2019s Bar.<\/p>\n

As had become his habit the past few days, Ben stopped by the hotel registry to pick up the latest issue of the Bulletin<\/em>.\u00a0 \u201cGlad you\u2019re staying over,\u201d the clerk said as he handed over the paper, \u201cbut I wish you\u2019d see your way clear to write up another piece, Mr. Cartwright.\u00a0 Sure do enjoy reading about your adventures.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d Ben said, \u201cbut I\u2019m a rancher, not a writer.\u00a0 I\u2019ll be staying over another night or two, Mr. Simpson, and then it\u2019s back to the Ponderosa for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Silas Simpson grinned, the gap in his front teeth reminding Ben of his middle son, though the man was decades older than Hoss.\u00a0 \u201cReckon the ladies\u2019ll be sorry to hear you\u2019re leavin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben frowned, puzzled for a moment.\u00a0 Then, concluding that the clerk must be referring to Mrs. Delong and Mrs. Collins, he nodded, placed the folded newspaper beneath his arm and climbed the single flight of stairs to his room.\u00a0 After removing his boots, coat and vest, Ben settled down on the bed and opened the paper, curious to see whether it contained anything better than news about cotillions and high fashion, now that Kathleen was sole writer again.\u00a0 One glance at the headline blazoned across three columns of the front page, and he bolted to his feet.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ll kill her!\u201d he growled.<\/p>\n

Hoping the article wouldn\u2019t be as personally mortifying as \u201cBEN CARTWRIGHT\u2014NEVADA\u2019S NOBLE KNIGHT\u201d indicated, he paced the floor as he scanned line after line of effusive praise.\u00a0 With each paragraph he felt his face flush a little warmer as he read a description of himself that made all the knights of King Arthur\u2019s Round Table look like a child\u2019s tin soldiers by comparison.\u00a0 Somehow that\u2014that minx of an editor had sniffed out all the small kindnesses he\u2019d done the last few days, from the meager assistance he\u2019d given the Blackburn family, to managing the mine\u2019s sale for Jenny Delong, to advising Mrs. Whittaker on the disposal of her property and\u2014last, but not least\u2014single-handedly saving the town\u2019s newspaper, as credited by Kathleen Collins herself.\u00a0 After touting Ben Cartwright as a man possessed of the wisdom of Solomon and the chivalry of Sir Lancelot, the article concluded, \u201cIndeed, could any damsel in distress ask for a more gallant knight to champion her cause than this self-effacing rancher from Nevada?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben threw the newspaper to the floor and grasped hold of the foot rail of the bed.\u00a0 Squeezing his knuckles around the solid brass, he fought to control his rising temper.\u00a0 How dare she?\u00a0 This was her way of getting back at him for his refusal to supply her with more articles, was it?\u00a0 Well, she\u2019d get a taste of what he could do with his tongue, instead of his pen, first thing tomorrow morning!\u00a0 If the newspaper office hadn\u2019t already been closed, he\u2019d have been on his way over there this minute, but this was better.\u00a0 This way he\u2019d have time to compose a lecture guaranteed to cow her into contrition, as surely as his booming voice could cow three grown sons into submission whenever they got out of line.<\/p>\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ben was still fuming as he dressed the next morning, but he tried to curb his raging wrath.\u00a0 He was taking breakfast, as he had all his meals here in Wilson\u2019s Bar, with Jenny Delong, and while she had obviously fed a few pertinent facts to that scheming editor, Jenny had only been expressing her gratitude.\u00a0 Ben couldn\u2019t fault her for that.\u00a0 No, he wasn\u2019t angry with Jenny or with Molly Blackburn or Mrs. Whittaker, either, though he wished that they had all held their tongues.\u00a0 His rage was reserved for the one who had made a public display of good deeds meant to remain private, and he had no intention of holding his tongue when he saw her right after breakfast.<\/p>\n

His anger showed, though, in the staccato thump of his footsteps when he descended the stairs to the lobby.\u00a0 As he strode swiftly across the room, a young woman who had been sitting there stood and blocked his path.\u00a0 \u201cExcuse me, sir,\u201d she drawled in a thick-as-syrup southern accent, \u201cbut are you the problem-solvin\u2019 man?\u201d<\/p>\n

Behind the hotel desk, Silas Simpson leaned his chin on his palm and cackled.\u00a0 \u201cYep, that\u2019s him, all right\u2014hee, hee.\u00a0 He\u2019s that problem-solving man for all the ladies hereabouts.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben fixed the clerk with a baleful eye, which Silas simply ignored.\u00a0 Delicate fingers touched his arm lightly, making him turn back to a lady about the same age as his youngest son, dressed as if she\u2019d taken to heart the advice in the article he\u2019d read that first night in town.\u00a0 \u201cMa\u2019am, you are mistaken,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cI am no more capable of solving problems than any other man in town.\u00a0 If you\u2019ll excuse me, I have business to attend, so perhaps Mr. Simpson here can assist you.\u201d\u00a0 With a tip of his hat, Ben escaped out the front door\u2014or thought he had.\u00a0 The pretty little blonde exited right after him and dogged his tracks down the street\u2014all the way to the newspaper office.\u00a0 Ben banged on the door with his fist, determined to speak to that infernal editor at once, whether it was office hours or not.<\/p>\n

The door finally opened, and Kathleen Collins smiled out at him.\u00a0 \u201cAh, Mr. Cartwright.\u00a0 I thought I might be hearing from you today.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2014you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cConniver?\u201d she suggested with a saucy wink.<\/p>\n

The little southern lass wedged in next to the editor.\u00a0 \u201cOh, Mrs. Collins, do implore your friend Mr. Cartwright to aid me in my hour of need.\u00a0 I\u2019m a damsel in distress, just like you wrote in the paper.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben fired a finger at the young woman while he glared at Kathleen.\u00a0 \u201cYou see?\u00a0 You see what you\u2019ve done?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, Ben,\u201d Kathleen intoned innocently, index finger touching her lower lip.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ve simply reported local news\u2014and perhaps paved the way to make a bit more, gentle knight.\u201d\u00a0 She took his arm.\u00a0 \u201cBut we shouldn\u2019t discuss this on the street.\u00a0 Do come in\u2014and you, too, Miss Perkins.\u00a0 I\u2019m sure that good Sir Ben will aid you if he can.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, thank you!\u201d Miss Perkins gushed, hurrying into the office.<\/p>\n

Laughing, Kathleen pulled good Sir Ben in after her and shut the door.\u00a0 \u201cNow, what was it you needed, Miss Perkins?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t ask her that!\u201d Ben said sharply.\u00a0 Aware that his tone sounded rude, he turned to the young woman.\u00a0 \u201cNo disrespect, Miss . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerkins.\u00a0 Miss Magnolia Perkins,\u201d the woman drawled with a dainty curtsey.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Miss Magnolia,\u201d Ben said, dipping his head in return. \u201cI mean no disrespect, but I am not your knight in shining armor\u201d\u2014he stared pointedly at the editor\u2014\u201cor any other woman\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, sir, don\u2019t turn me away!\u201d Magnolia Perkins implored, a veritable waterfall cascading down her cheeks.\u00a0 \u201cI simply won\u2019t know where to turn if you do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eyes full of pleading, Ben looked to Kathleen for help, but she only cocked her head to one side, as if to emphasize that she was a mere observer\u2014and reporter\u2014of this bit of town news.\u00a0 Ben turned back to the southern belle, his hands spread helplessly.\u00a0 \u201cMiss Magnolia, whatever your problem is, shouldn\u2019t you be seeking counsel from your father?\u201d<\/p>\n

Magnolia dabbed at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief.\u00a0 \u201cOh, sir, if only I could, but I, sir, am an orphan.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben groaned, knowing his fatherly heart could refuse this weeping child no longer, no more than he could have turned away a daughter of his own.\u00a0 \u201cWell\u2014well, then\u2014what is this problem you\u2019re facing, my dear?\u201d<\/p>\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Ben glowered at the three tittering females sitting around the breakfast table with him.\u00a0 The more he ranted about the trouble \u201cthat woman,\u201d as he repeatedly called Kathleen Collins, had caused, the more Jenny Delong and her two young daughters giggled.\u00a0 \u201cOh, I\u2019m sorry, Ben,\u201d Jenny finally said, trying, with meager success, to stifle her merriment.\u00a0 \u201cI had no idea she intended to write you up as such a hero\u2014though you are to me, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe worst of it is, it\u2019s set me up as some sort of unparalleled \u2018problem-solving man\u2019 for silly-minded girls like that little miss from Georgia,\u201d Ben groaned, \u201cand I can only hope she\u2019s the last of her tribe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I know,\u201d Jenny laughed again.\u00a0 \u201cMagnolia Perkins hasn\u2019t a brain in her head, never did.\u00a0 So were you able to help her?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben nodded, finally chuckling himself.\u00a0 \u201cYeah, wasn\u2019t anything anyone with a modicum of sense couldn\u2019t have figured out.\u201d\u00a0 He scooted his chair back.\u00a0 \u201cFine breakfast, as usual, Jenny.\u00a0 Maybe you ought to consider running a caf\u00e9, instead of just a bakery.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll give it some thought, since the man advising it is reported to have the wisdom of Solomon\u201d she said, naughty twinkle in her eyes.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re meeting with all three potential buyers this morning?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo this morning, one this afternoon,\u201d Ben said as he moved toward the door.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ll let you know as soon as the deal\u2019s made, and I think I\u2019ll be bringing good news.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tapping her cheek with her finger, Jenny gazed nonchalantly at the ceiling.\u00a0 \u201cFunny, that\u2019s what Kathleen says, too\u2014that you make good news.\u201d\u00a0 She laughed aloud as Ben slammed his hat on his head and strode briskly out.<\/p>\n

He moved toward the hotel, planning to freshen up before his first meeting.\u00a0 When he stepped into the lobby, however, he found it crowded with females, who looked up eagerly at the sound of a masculine step.\u00a0 With a basic instinct for self-preservation, Ben spun on his heel and ran all the way to the Delong house.\u00a0 Knocking frantically, he rushed inside as soon as the door opened.\u00a0 \u201cJenny, you have to protect me!\u201d begged good Sir Ben.<\/p>\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 At Ben\u2019s insistence Jenny locked the door and drew the curtains, but those frantic females somehow ferreted him out and plaintively called his name until Jenny grew embarrassed by the commotion on her doorstep and herded them all into her front parlor.\u00a0 \u201cNow, ladies, I\u2019m sure Mr. Cartwright will see you, but you must wait your turn,\u201d she directed, standing in the doorway between parlor and kitchen as Ben, quite literally, hid behind her skirts.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I have appointments,\u201d Ben hissed in her ear.\u00a0 \u201cFor you, if you\u2019ll recall.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHush.\u00a0 I know,\u201d Jenny whispered back, \u201cand I\u2019ll break you free for those, so long as you promise on your knightly honor to come back and not leave me to deal with this alone.\u201d\u00a0 She gestured toward a chair at the kitchen table.\u00a0 \u201cIt isn\u2019t round, but it will have to do, Sir Ben,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Haunted by all those imploring faces in the next room, Ben sat at the table, as one by one, Jenny directed misty-eyed petitioners to the seat opposite the problem-solving man.\u00a0 With only three refreshing interludes into the world of sensible male negotiations, Ben spent the day listening to more tales of woe than any man should have to endure in a lifetime.\u00a0 He weeded out all he could, flatly refusing to counsel any woman with either a husband or a father to whom she could turn, but that cholera epidemic had left enough widows and orphans to keep him busy from daylight to dusk, giving advice on everything from child-rearing to financial planning to coping with the sudden loss of a loved one.<\/p>\n

He finally crept furtively back to the hotel after dark, peering cautiously in the doorway before entering.\u00a0 Finding the room devoid of damsels, in distress or otherwise, he took a deep breath and walked in.\u00a0 He stopped at the registration desk to inform the leering buffoon behind it that he had concluded the sale of Mrs. Delong\u2019s mine and would be leaving in the morning.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry to see you go, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d Simpson smirked.\u00a0 \u201cAin\u2019t seen Wilson\u2019s Bar this lively in quite some time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll bet,\u201d Ben grunted.\u00a0 Then he leaned across the desk and asked in a\u00a0 beseeching whisper, \u201cIs there a back way out?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust down the fire escape,\u201d the clerk laughed, \u201cbut if you plan to use that, you\u2019d best pay up tonight, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d\u00a0 And Ben did just that.<\/p>\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As Ben Cartwright rounded the barn and came into the yard of his home, he finally relaxed.\u00a0 Here in the all-male domain of the Ponderosa Ranch, he could at last feel safe from heartrending pleas for help from damsels in distress.\u00a0 That last day in Wilson\u2019s Bar had nearly done him in, but all that was behind him now.\u00a0 Ben stepped down from his horse, wrapped the reins around the hitching post and walked to the house.\u00a0 He opened the door on a scene to warm his heart: all three of his sons gathered around the family hearth, all three looking up, glad to see him return, and, most importantly, all three of them men.\u00a0 \u201cHello, boys,\u201d he said as he removed his hat and jacket.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Pa!\u201d Joe cried, bouncing up to welcome his father with a warm embrace.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Sir Pa!\u201d Hoss called, that gap-toothed grin splitting his broad face.<\/p>\n

Ben flinched away from Joseph to stare at his middle son.\u00a0 \u201cWhat did you say?\u201d he demanded tersely.<\/p>\n

Hoss seemed to shrink in on himself.\u00a0 \u201cUh, I said\u2014uh\u2014yes, sir, Pa, sure is good to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s silver-flecked eyebrows drew together in a severe line.\u00a0 \u201cSounded a little different the first time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Eyes closed, Adam leaned back in his chair and, resting the back of his hand against his forehead, began to quote dramatically:<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen he was come almost unto the town,
\nIn all his weal, and in his moste pride,
\nHe was ware, as he cast his eye aside,
\nWhere that there kneeled in the highe way
\nA company of ladies, tway and tway,
\nEach after other, clad in clothes black:
\nBut such a cry and such a woe they make. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho told you?\u201d Ben bellowed.<\/p>\n

Adam opened his eyes and gazed with exaggerated innocence at his father.\u00a0 \u201cAh, thy fame precedes thee, good and gentle knight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, Pa, it\u2019s all in the paper,\u201d Hoss said, \u201cand I just want you to know I\u2019m plumb proud of you for helpin\u2019 out them widow ladies and such.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s in the paper, the paper here?\u201d\u00a0 Ben felt a sudden urge to sit down and gave in to it.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, Pa.\u201d\u00a0 Little Joe scurried around and sidled up next to his father on the settee.\u00a0 Handing over the latest issue of the Territorial Enterprise<\/em>, he pointed to the front page.\u00a0 \u201cQuite a write-up, don\u2019t you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut how?\u201d\u00a0 Ben\u2019s voice faded away as he shook his head in bewilderment at sight of the familiar headline.<\/p>\n

Adam laughed.\u00a0 \u201cNewspapers reprint stories from other papers all the time, Pa.\u00a0 Didn\u2019t you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben nodded grimly.\u00a0 He had been aware of that fact, somewhere in the rarely visited recesses of his mind, but never before had that particular piece of information held such personal pertinence.\u00a0 \u201cShe\u2019s done it to me again,\u201d he moaned.<\/p>\n

\u201cAin\u2019t it great, Pa?\u201d Joe bubbled.\u00a0 \u201cYou sure made a name for yourself over at Wilson\u2019s Bar.\u00a0 When I was in town today, this whole flock of ladies was askin\u2019 when you\u2019d be back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA whole flock of ladies?\u201d\u00a0 Ben laid his aching head in his hand.\u00a0 \u201cLadies with problems?\u201d he quavered.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Joe gave an enthusiastic bounce.\u00a0 \u201cAnd I was thinking, there being so many and all, that you could handle all the old widow women and I\u2019d take the young ones off your hands.\u201d\u00a0 As his father\u2019s head shot up, Joe caught a glimpse of the ominous glint in those narrowed eyes and drew back toward the opposite end of the settee.\u00a0 \u201cJust to help out,\u201d he faltered, his voice rising in a nervous squeak.\u00a0 \u201cOr\u2014or maybe I could just go stable your horse to help out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGit!\u201d Ben roared.\u00a0 \u201cAnd you stay away from those ladies with problems, you hear me, boy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe scrambled to his feet, mumbling as he stumbled toward the door, \u201cYes, Sir Pa\u2014I mean, yes, sir, Pa.\u00a0 I hear you, yep, sure do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hearing a chuckle behind him, Ben rounded on his eldest son.\u00a0 \u201cAnd as for you, young man, keep it up and you just might find yourself using your literary gifts as the next correspondent from Nevada to the Wilson\u2019s Bar Bulletin<\/em>.\u00a0 I know just the lady to contact to make it happen!\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam was never as easy to intimidate as his younger brothers, but Ben sensed that he\u2019d struck the right chord this time when his oldest son sank back in his blue armchair without so much as a word.<\/p>\n

He turned to Hoss, who always withered easiest under a direct stare, and saw the big man gulp down an apparently huge lump in his throat.\u00a0 \u201cI sure was proud of you, Pa,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s all I got to say.\u201d<\/p>\n

Looking back and forth between his two oldest sons, Ben nodded in satisfaction of a mission accomplished.\u00a0 There\u2019d be no more teasing from any of these boys, including the one in the barn, but boys were easy.\u00a0 Damsels in distress?\u00a0 That was a whole other kettle of fish, a kettle he didn\u2019t plan to dip into anytime soon.\u00a0 The Ponderosa was looking mighty good right now, and a winter secluded there was sounding better than it ever had.<\/p>\n

The End<\/p>\n

Note:\u00a0 Adam\u2019s quotation is from \u201cThe Knight\u2019s Tale,\u201d one of The Canterbury Tales<\/em> by Geoffrey Chaucer.
\n(Originally published in the first issue of Bonanza Gold)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Tags:\u00a0 Ben Cartwright,\u00a0Family<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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<\/g><\/svg><\/i> \"Loading\"<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0Thanks to the machinations\u00a0of a conniving editor, Ben finds himself besieged by needy females in a town whose male population has been ravaged by accidents and disease. \u00a0(Originally published in the first issue of Bonanza Gold)<\/p>\n

Rating: \u00a0K ( 7,429words)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":48,"featured_media":12657,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12656","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-humor","wpcat-4-id"],"a3_pvc":{"activated":true,"total_views":1012,"today_views":1},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/03\/Help-Me3.jpg?fit=441%2C491&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":14374,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=14374","url_meta":{"origin":12656,"position":0},"title":"The Tiger Puzzle (by Robin)","author":"profrobinw","date":"January 1, 2000","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0 The Cartwright brothers come to the aid of sisters; however, will they be able to help the damsels in distress? \u00a0If you know the brothers, you know where this is going -- risque'. 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Rating: K+ Word Count: 978","rel":"","context":"In "Brothers"","block_context":{"text":"Brothers","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=1009"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/brotherskeeper.jpg?fit=610%2C488&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/brotherskeeper.jpg?fit=610%2C488&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/brotherskeeper.jpg?fit=610%2C488&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":16257,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=16257","url_meta":{"origin":12656,"position":5},"title":"Home at Last (by Christy)","author":"Christy","date":"December 9, 2006","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: \u00a0Ben has waited anxiously for Adam and Joe to return from the war. Adam comes home carrying a secret that has virtually destroyed him and Joe at the same time. How will the family go on? Rated:\u00a0PG\u00a0 (19,150 words)","rel":"","context":"In "Alternate Universe"","block_context":{"text":"Alternate Universe","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=7"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/civilwar.jpg?fit=384%2C348&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12656","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/48"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12656"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12656\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/12657"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12656"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12656"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12656"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}