Written for the 2016 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament.<\/p>\n
Summary: \u00a0The boys are determined to find a birthday gift their father will love.\u00a0 They succeed too well.<\/p>\n
Rated: \u00a0T\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Word count: \u00a06773<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Enthralled<\/strong><\/p>\n Adam didn\u2019t notice it at first, tucked in a corner surrounded by stacks of books and shelves stuffed with fussy bric-a-brac.<\/p>\n One never knew what might be found in Weber\u2019s Household Emporium, and Adam frequently passed an enjoyable hour poking through the ever-changing, eclectic inventory. Fritz Weber had the knack of turning up the most interesting items.<\/p>\n Although he didn\u2019t have anything specific in mind, Adam hoped to discover something suitable for Pa\u2019s birthday. With any luck, the whatever-it-was would surprise and please Pa while effectively wiping away any lingering memory of last year\u2019s disaster that had nearly cost Joe\u2019s life.\u00a0 Privately, the brothers had made a pact \u2013no more \u201cspecial\u201d horses.<\/p>\n When Adam sneezed for the fourth time, he was nearly ready to give up sorting through piles of goods that most folks would uncharitably term junk. Couldn\u2019t Weber be bothered at all to display his stock to better advantage?\u00a0 Really, it was a wonder the man sold anything at all.<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s persnickety nature got the better of him. He spent at least ten minutes gathering and stacking the books neatly and arranging the glazed vases and figurines by size and color. Satisfied with his work, he stepped back to admire the new display and to wipe the sweat from his brow. His backward progress was halted abruptly when the sharp corner of a heretofore unnoticed piece of furniture connected with his backside. Whirling about to scowl at the offending object, he instead gaped in admiration.<\/p>\n A small slant-lid secretary, its polished surfaces glowing from the deep red cherry wood accented with shining brass on the drawers and sides, stood in graceful splendor. How had he missed it? The piece was as out of place among the gaudy, excessively carved furnishings as a nun in the midst of courtesans. When Adam checked the price inked on the card tucked into one of the drawers, he saw an opportunity.<\/p>\n \u201cFritz, what can you tell me about this desk?\u201d<\/p>\n The store owner ambled over, expertly maneuvering through the displays.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have a fine eye, Adam!\u201d Fritz Weber praised him. \u201cThis little beauty was part of an estate sale that Mrs. Fair purchased for her mansion. She had her agent buy the entire lot sight unseen. Unfortunately, this desk didn\u2019t complement the mansion\u2019s d\u00e9cor, and I was able to take it off her hands.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh. I can see how it wouldn\u2019t suit her taste. It looks old.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOld!\u00a0 Adam, this work of art is over one hundred years old. It was crafted on the east coast from the finest cherry and mahogany for one of the most illustrious military figures of our Revolution, General Charles Lee. Since his death, it has graced some of our country\u2019s most elegant homes.\u201d<\/p>\n The desk was certainly lovely. Of course, it wouldn\u2019t really suit the Ponderosa\u2019s rustic decor any better than it had suited the Fair mansion. Even so, there was something enchanting about the item. But, where in the world would it go if he did bring it home? He supposed if the liquor cabinet was moved to the dining room, the desk would fit nicely against the stair landing next to the window. Now, if Marie were still alive, she would have immediately appreciated its elegance and insisted on purchasing it. Perhaps Pa would appreciate its history . . .<\/p>\n Adam pursed his lips in contemplation. He was pretty certain he was about to do something spontaneous, and in his experience that never ended well.<\/p>\n \u201cAll very interesting, Fritz.\u00a0 Even so, one hundred and twenty-five dollars is a lot of money for an old desk.\u201d<\/p>\n Fritz\u2019s eyes sparkled at the challenge in Adam\u2019s tone.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re right; it\u2019s a great deal of money for an old desk.\u00a0 But it is a very small sum for a piece of history.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFifty dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor you, I can come down to one hundred.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSeventy-five dollars is my final offer.\u201d<\/p>\n There was a significant period of silence interrupted only by the ticking of the many clocks scattered throughout the store.\u00a0 Finally, Fritz heaved a great sigh and raised a sorrowful face to the heavens.<\/p>\n \u201cThe Cartwrights are old friends and excellent customers.\u00a0 If this desk will make you happy, then I\u2019m content to sacrifice it at such a low price.\u201d<\/p>\n The bargaining had gone better than he\u2019d expected. Seventy-five dollars was a fair price for the desk, and if Hoss and Joe wanted to split the cost with him later so much the better. They clasped hands to seal the deal, and Fritz promised to have the desk securely wrapped and stowed in Adam\u2019s wagon within the hour.<\/p>\n Pleased with himself, Adam departed for a leisurely lunch at the Silver Dollar that was greatly enhanced by a couple of beers. Adam was whistling a cheery tune as he pushed through the bat wing doors into the glare of the afternoon sun.\u00a0 He\u2019d nearly reached his wagon when he was accosted by a young man.<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Cartwright?\u00a0 My name is Kade McNeill. Do you have a moment?\u201d\u00a0 Mr. McNeill insinuated himself between Adam and the buckboard.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat can I do for you?\u201d Adam was curious rather than concerned.\u00a0 Kade McNeill didn\u2019t look like trouble.\u00a0 He wore his thick auburn hair brushed back from a high forehead.\u00a0 His grey suit draped a form that was athletic without being muscular. He could look Adam in the eye without strain, but the gaze was empty of any threat.<\/p>\n \u201cI just spoke with Mr. Weber. He\u2019s told me you purchased a particular desk, a small cherry and mahogany secretary.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s right.\u201d Adam stepped closer to his wagon, and Kade McNeill moved obligingly out of the way.<\/p>\n \u201cSir, I have been searching for that desk for some time. I am willing to buy it from you right now, at any price you care to name.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMr. McNeill, I appreciate the offer, but I didn\u2019t purchase the desk to sell. My plan is to give it to my father.\u201d Adam swung himself up into the wagon seat and grabbed the reins.<\/p>\n \u201cForgive me for saying it, but this desk isn\u2019t fit for a son to present to his father. I would be delighted to help you find a better, more suitable item . . . perhaps another desk, for your father . . .\u201d<\/p>\n On any other occasion, Adam might have agreed to the man\u2019s terms. After all, it had been an impulse purchase, it wasn\u2019t as if Adam had searched high and low for this particular desk. Maybe he should just . . . No, Adam found the desk, and he felt completely certain it was the perfect gift. Pa would love it.<\/p>\n Kade McNeill was able to read the decision from Adam\u2019s face.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease, Mr. Cartwright, this desk is very important to me. Won\u2019t you reconsider?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you for your generous offer,\u201d Adam slapped reins and the wagon rolled forward. \u201cBut I\u2019m keeping the desk.\u00a0 I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n Tipping his hat to the gentleman, Adam eased the wagon into the bustling flow of traffic. He didn\u2019t look back, but he could have sworn he heard Kade McNeill mutter, \u201cI\u2019m very afraid you will be sorry, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n He\u2019d been itching to have a good look at his birthday gift since its presentation the night before.\u00a0 After breakfast, the boys had headed out to work, leaving him alone with his treasure.<\/p>\n Ben gently swiped his hand across the gleaming surface of his new desk. He\u2019d admit to being surprised\u2014this was certainly a departure from the usual saddles, rifles, brandy, and God forbid, horses. As soon as he\u2019d seen the desk, Ben was willing to bet that Adam had been responsible for the choice. His oldest son had looked pleased and a bit smug while Hoss and Joe had seemed hopeful but anxious about Ben\u2019s reaction. Regardless of the instigator, Ben was tremendously pleased with the gift. He\u2019d always been a history buff, and he was tickled to have an item associated with one of the generals of the Revolution. To hear that another collector had tried to buy the desk from Adam added to its cachet.<\/p>\n Aside from the history aspect, the desk was curiously compelling. Ben carefully lowered the slant top, propping it securely on the rests. Drawing a chair away from the nearby round table, Ben sat at the desk and gazed at his own reflection in the polished wood. What should he do with this little marvel? His massive oak desk contained his ledgers and receipts. He found that he disliked the idea of sullying this antique with something as mundane as business documents. This desk was special; it should be reserved for more intellectual, perhaps even spiritual pursuits. Thinking hard, Ben remembered a handsome pen and ink well set he had received from the Cattlemen\u2019s Association. He found it (well, Hop Sing found it at his request) and installed the set in a place of honor on the desk. He then liberated a box of fine stationary hidden behind dusty volumes in the bookcase and placed it close at hand ready for needful correspondence. \u00a0Ben surveyed the set up with a bit of frustration. Everything was all well and good, but he didn\u2019t actually have anyone to correspond with at the moment.<\/p>\n Struck with an idea, Ben dashed upstairs and drew a small trunk out from underneath his bed. Pushing aside various keepsakes, he at last unearthed a large bound notebook and a small bundle of pencils. Trotting back down the stairs with his finds, Ben settled into the chair, spread the notebook open, sharpened a couple of pencils, and began to sketch.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Hoss took care to stomp off the dried mud clinging to his boots before entering the house. Tracking dirt onto Hop Sing\u2019s clean floors was a sure-fired way to get on the wrong side of their cook. Hoss would rather remain in the man\u2019s good graces; it made it much easier to wheedle a snack before dinner.<\/p>\n He noticed right off that Pa was working away on something at his new desk. He had his head down and acted as if he hadn\u2019t even heard Hoss come through the door. In fact, Pa didn\u2019t look up when Hoss walked right up alongside him. When he saw what Pa was doing, Hoss was flabbergasted.<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t know you could draw.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa actually jumped in surprise at the sound of his son\u2019s voice. Huh, that was something, Pa didn\u2019t usually get so involved in stuff he shut the world out.<\/p>\n Pa looked up. He wore just about the biggest grin that Hoss had ever seen.<\/p>\n \u201cI can draw, son.\u00a0 I just don\u2019t usually bother. There\u2019s always plenty to do; and frankly, I haven\u2019t thought about trying my hand for ages.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you mind if I take a look?\u201d Hoss gestured at the sketch book.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, don\u2019t expect much. I am very out of practice.\u201d\u00a0 Ben handed the book over.<\/p>\n Doggone it. It looked like Pa had been working on this for hours. There were several renderings of the lake, a nicely worked view of the house, and several pages of images of Indians.<\/p>\n \u201cThese are fine drawings, Pa. You should do this more often. Now, I know where Adam gets his talent.\u201d<\/p>\n The way Ben beamed at his son\u2019s praise warmed Hoss\u2019s heart. Usually, Pa shrugged off compliments. Hoss paged through the sketch book again until he reached the Indian drawings.<\/p>\n \u201cI ain\u2019t never seen Indians dressed like that before. Where\u2019d you come up these pictures?\u201d<\/p>\n They both took a moment to examine the sketches. Ben\u2019s face was pulled into a slight frown. The Indians he\u2019d pictured were not dressed as the Paiutes or other tribes they knew. The hair was wrong, the clothes were wrong, even the campsite shown looked different \u2013instead of hide-draped teepees, the shelters looked permanent and substantial.\u00a0 Outside one of the structures, a woman cooked at a fire while two little boys played at her side. The homely little scene made Hoss smile.<\/p>\n \u201cI just drew from my imagination, I suppose. I can\u2019t remember meeting any Indians dressed like that,\u201d Ben replied.\u00a0 \u201cMaybe I saw something like this in a book somewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, wherever it came from, I think you did real good. Look, I see Hop Sing setting the table. It looks like we\u2019re goin\u2019 to eat soon.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou go ahead, son. I\u2019m not hungry.\u201d Ben turned back to his sketch book.<\/p>\n Pa must be really enthralled with his sketches to ignore dinner. If the boys had learned one thing over the years, it was that family made time to break bread together. It was a nice change to see Pa havin\u2019 so much fun.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cEvenin\u2019, Pa!\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe announced his arrival with a cheery shout and a bang of the front door. The noise interrupted Ben\u2019s train of thought, and he snapped his head up to glare at his youngest son.<\/p>\n \u201cJoseph, when will you get it into your head to come through the door like a civilized man,\u201d Ben growled, rapping his knuckles sharply against the desk top to emphasize his warning.<\/p>\n In the face of his father\u2019s irritation, Joe broad smile faded. One hand went up to first touch, and then to massage his forehead.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, Pa.\u201d Joe whispered before turning away to wash up for supper.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Ben flexed his hand gingerly before grasping his fork to dig into the apple pie Hop Sing placed in front of him. He\u2019d had to abandon his sketch book when his hand became too sore to hold a pencil. Although he\u2019d missed the meal, he\u2019d joined his sons at the dining table for dessert. It was a pleasant ending to a pleasant day although his muscles were protesting the hours spent bending over his scribbles.<\/p>\n Stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders produced audible creaks and pops. Hoss chuckled softly at the sounds while Adam grinned openly.<\/p>\n \u201cTough day, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t get cheeky with me, boy,\u201d Ben replied in wry tones. \u201cMy day was just fine.\u201d Warm apple pie followed by a swallow of Hop Sing\u2019s excellent coffee really hit the spot.<\/p>\n Peering over the rim of his coffee cup, Ben took a closer look at his youngest. Ben noticed the boy\u2019s face was sickly pale and dotted with perspiration.<\/p>\n \u201cLittle Joe? You don\u2019t seem like yourself tonight.\u00a0 Are you feeling all right?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe rubbed at his forehead with a weary hand. \u201cSorry, Pa. I\u2019ve got an awful headache.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy don\u2019t you ask Hop Sing for a headache powder and turn in early?\u201d Ben suggested.<\/p>\n \u201cI think I will. Good night, everyone.\u201d Joe ducked into the kitchen for a few minutes before heading up the stairs.<\/p>\n Adam excused himself from the table and settled into the blue chair next the fireplace. Opening his book, he prepared to read. Ben and Hoss followed him, settling themselves comfortably into their own preferred spots.<\/p>\n \u201cPa,\u201d Adam said. \u201cRemember, Hiram is expecting you in town tomorrow to go over those contracts.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben huffed indignantly. \u201cI remember my appointments quite clearly, young man. I may be another year older, but I haven\u2019t lost my wits, yet.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJust checking,\u201d Adam replied, barely dodging the pillow his father tossed at him.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n \u201cYou are very persistent, Mr. McNeill.\u201d<\/p>\n The waiter had just delivered their meals when the young man had slipped into a vacant chair next to Hoss. Ben politely put aside his fork and knife to offer his undivided attention.<\/p>\n Kade McNeill smiled apologetically. \u201cDespite appearances, I really don\u2019t mean to be a nuisance. I understand from your response that your oldest son mentioned I have already offered to buy the desk?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe has. I\u2019m afraid I\u2019m going to give you the same answer.\u201d<\/p>\n McNeill nodded. \u201cPerhaps you would like to know more about your desk\u2019s provenance?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s what?\u201d asked Hoss, face screwed up with confusion.<\/p>\n \u201cProvenance is merely a fancy word for the desk\u2019s history, its \u2018life story\u2019, if you will.\u201d McNeill offered Hoss a friendly smile. \u201cAs you have already been told, this desk was crafted for General Charles Lee, a man acclaimed as a hero for his defense of Charleston. What many people don\u2019t know is that the general was court-martialed following the Battle of Monmouth for disobedience, misbehavior, and disrespect toward his Commander in Chief, George Washington. As a result of his actions, he lost his position in the Continental Army. He died without heirs a few years later.\u201d<\/p>\n Apparently satisfied that he held his audience\u2019s attention, McNeill continued. \u201cEven fewer people know that Lee had married a Mohawk woman who bore him twin sons. The Mohawk Indians gave him a name they felt described his character, Boiling Water.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSounds like that general was a hot head,\u201d Hoss offered.<\/p>\n Ben was feeling a bit impatient. \u201cMr. McNeill, where are you going with all of this?\u201d<\/p>\n McNeill leaned forward, \u201cSince the desk was sold from Lee\u2019s estate, it has been the property of many people\u2014both illustrious and obscure. Each of those households has been visited with grave misfortune. I promise you, I do not exaggerate when I say that the trail following this desk is a string of murder, suicide and grisly accident.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you suggesting that this desk<\/em> has been the cause of these tragedies?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHistory speaks for itself, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben glanced over at Hoss. Was his son buying any of this nonsense? \u00a0Hoss met his questioning gaze with a wink.<\/p>\n \u201cMr. McNeill,\u201d Hoss said. \u201cIt\u2019s awful that terrible things have happened to people over the years, but it just don\u2019t make no sense that a pretty little piece of furniture is the cause of it. You\u2019re talking like it\u2019s alive or something. Stuff like this, tragedies, and accidents, happen all the time to . . . everyone<\/em>, and there ain\u2019t no desk to blame.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNevertheless, this particular desk has been cursed by a malevolent force . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf that\u2019s true,\u201d Hoss asked, \u201cwhy do you want it so bad?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI would destroy it. Burn it to ash before it prompted further heartache.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben picked up his cutlery. It was time to put an end to this foolishness, and he hoped McNeill would take the hint.<\/p>\n \u201cI appreciate your offer, but I will be keeping the desk.\u201d<\/p>\n Kade McNeill took the hint. Rising from his chair, he offered a hand to Ben and Hoss before departing.<\/p>\n \u201cBefore I go, let me tell you about the last owner of this desk. He was a fine gentleman\u2014wise and kind and virtuous. He loved his family, especially his son. But within a short time of owning the desk, his kind personality changed and the love he had for his son turned to bitter disapproval. Finally, he and the son argued; and in a fit of rage, the father drove a knife into his son\u2019s heart before taking his own life.\u201d<\/p>\n A wave of nausea at the brutal vision the man had put in his mind threatened Ben\u2019s composure. Swallowing back the sick feeling, he listened to McNeill\u2019s final remarks.<\/p>\n \u201cSo, you\u2019ll have to bear with me. I don\u2019t believe I can stop trying to convince you to let me have the desk.\u201d\u00a0 McNeill turned and left the restaurant.<\/p>\n Ben sat in shocked silence, appetite gone.\u00a0 What exactly did a man say after such a tale?<\/p>\n \u201cPa, that was the craziest story I ever heard,\u201d Hoss declared before digging into the meal cooling in front of him. He paused and a smile softened his worried expression. \u201cWait \u2018til I tell Adam your birthday present has a stalker!\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Pa was sure rattled about the McNeill fella\u2019s story. He\u2019d hardly touched his food, and Hoss couldn\u2019t get him interested in much conversation. It was a shame that dude should take away some of the pleasure Pa was getting from that new desk of his.<\/p>\n Hoss knew his family thought he was an easy mark for every drifter and con man with a good story. There\u00a0could even be a bit of truth to that opinion. While he\u00a0would admit to a soft heart, he had enough common sense to know a ghost story when he heard one. And he sure didn\u2019t believe in curses. There\u2019d been enough foolish talk around town about the \u201cCartwright Curse\u201d to get his dander up.\u00a0 Just because bad things happened to good folks didn\u2019t mean they were cursed.<\/p>\n \u201cReady to head on home, son?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss nodded and pushed his chair away from the table. He threw a comforting arm around his pa\u2019s shoulders and was rewarded with a warm smile. Soon, they were untying their horses and getting ready to mount when Harvey Purcell hustled up. It just figured they wouldn\u2019t get out of town without more fuss.<\/p>\n \u201cHoss, Ben . . . it\u2019s good to see you,\u201d Harvey greeted them. \u201cI\u2019ve been keeping an eye out for you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat can I help you with,\u201d Pa answered. Hoss didn\u2019t think it was his imagination that Pa looked a little wary of what was coming.<\/p>\n \u201cLet me show you.\u201d Harvey reached into a pocket and withdrew a small fabric-covered book. He handed it to Ben and pointed to the inside cover. Hoss peeked over Pa\u2019s shoulder to see what the fuss was about.<\/p>\n Mrs. Dorothea Cartwright.\u00a0 Joseph and Dorothea Cartwright.\u00a0 Mrs. Joseph Cartwright. <\/em>The titles were written all over the inside of the little book.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d Pa said.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is my youngest daughter\u2019s book. Dorothea is thirteen years old,\u201d Harvey said.<\/p>\n \u201cNow, Harvey, I can\u2019t believe that Joseph would . . .\u201d Ben stopped speaking when Harvey held up a hand.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Ben! Don\u2019t worry. Little Joe is a good boy, and I know he hasn\u2019t been meddling with my little girl.\u201d Harvey smiled as he went on to explain. \u201cYou know boys \u2018cause you raised three sons. I know girls \u2018cause I\u2019ve got four daughters.\u00a0 Dorothea is my youngest, and believe me, I\u2019ve seen this before. She\u2019s got a bad case of puppy love. Sooner or later\u2014probably when she next sees Little Joe\u2014she\u2019s liable to spill out all of these growin\u2019 up feelings on him. I thought if I let you know you could talk to him. That way, he\u2019d be prepared and can let her down gently.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss breathed easier.\u00a0 He\u2019d never believe Little Joe would take advantage of any woman, much less a little girl, but it was good to hear this little girl\u2019s father felt the same way.<\/p>\n Ben nodded and patted Harvey\u2019s arm. \u201cYou\u2019re a good father, Harvey. Thank you for letting me know. I\u2019ll be sure to talk to Joseph.\u201d<\/p>\n The two fathers exchanged a few words of farewell before Hoss and Ben were finally on their way home.<\/p>\n \u201cPa, you don\u2019t blame Little Joe for Dorothea bein\u2019 sweet on him, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben chuckled.\u00a0 \u201cNo, I don\u2019t blame him. I\u2019ll talk to him tonight and let him know to treat her kindly.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Ben added a bit of shading to the drawing he\u2019d been working on for the last hour. It had been a relief to get back home, put his cares aside, sit at his desk, and work on his drawings. He tried to put Kade McNeill\u2019s lunatic ramblings out of his mind. Just thinking about the man made his temper rise. Of all the fool notions!\u00a0 He turned his attention back to the sketch, but his temper got the better of him, and bearing down too hard, the pencil snapped in his hand.<\/p>\n Fiddlesticks. Ben searched the desk top in vain for the pen knife he used to sharpen pencils. Even though he knew the desk\u2019s drawers were empty, he opened and searched each desk drawer, reaching into the corners for something useful.\u00a0 When his questing hand reached the back of the lowest drawer, he touched something he hadn\u2019t noticed before.<\/p>\n Pulling the drawer completely out of the desk, Ben searched the drawer\u2019s bottom again for the weak spot he\u2019d noticed.\u00a0 A portion of the wood had moved, had given in just a little . . . there!\u00a0 He found it.\u00a0 Pressing firmly, Ben slid aside a thin veneer of the wood concealing a small niche.\u00a0 Reaching inside, Ben withdrew a knife.<\/p>\n Laying the drawer carefully onto the floor, Ben held the knife up to the light. A gleaming blade extended six inches from a hilt inlaid with ivory.\u00a0 Ben tested the blade, drawing it gently across his palm.<\/p>\n The sound of his sons\u2019 voices carried through the open window.\u00a0 Adam and Joe were laughing and joking, jostling each other aside to be the first through the front door.<\/p>\n Without thinking, Ben tossed the knife into the top desk drawer and closed it quickly. He grabbed the bottom drawer and attempted to slide it back into place. He muttered a few choice phrases half-remembered from his sailing days as he struggled.\u00a0 He almost had it in place when Joe and Adam came through the door.<\/p>\n \u201cEvening, Pa,\u201d Adam greeted his father. \u201cDo you need help with that drawer?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHmmm?\u00a0 No, no, I\u2019ve got it.\u201d\u00a0 Ben rubbed a hand across his eyes.\u00a0 Maybe he had been straining his eyes. It was hard to focus. For a moment, the light in the room flared and dimmed. He could see Adam clearly as well as Hoss who had emerged from the kitchen, sandwich in hand, to greet his brothers. Joseph stood at the edge, his form nearly obscured by the darkness. A firm shake of his head, and Ben\u2019s sight returned to normal.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat were you two yammerin\u2019 about out there?\u201d Hoss asked.\u00a0 \u201cI could hear you in the kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNow, that\u2019s quite a story,\u201d Adam replied. Little Joe took a swipe at his oldest brother, missed by a mile, and then tried to put his hand over Adam\u2019s mouth.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t listen to him, Pa,\u201d Joe called out. \u201cHe\u2019s just tryin\u2019 to get me into trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStop that, you rude pup!\u201d Adam pushed Joe aside, and the two of them wrestled for a moment until Adam managed to subdue Joe with a headlock. Watching their horseplay was getting on Ben\u2019s nerves.<\/p>\n \u201cAs I was saying,\u201d Adam began-pausing to smack Joe lightly on the top of the head, \u201cIt seems the family Romeo has managed to promise three girls that he will be taking them to the barn dance on Friday.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStop it, Adam,\u201d Joe shouted. \u201cIt\u2019s not like that. It\u2019s not even my fault.\u201d<\/p>\n Their arguing was nearly drowned out by Hoss\u2019s bellow of laughter. Ben could feel a headache start to form.<\/p>\n Wasn\u2019t this just like Joseph? Always the cause of trouble. A perfectly peaceful evening ruined for everybody by his foolishness. Him and his women. Scandalous. Sinful. The Boulette woman. The gypsy woman. Always expecting his family to pick up the pieces, to save him from himself. Even today, a father had complained about Joe\u2019s philandering ways.<\/p>\n \u201cEnough,\u201d Ben roared. His sons froze; it was almost comical. \u201cLet go of your brother, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam released Joe and stepped away. Ben swayed a bit on his feet from the force of the emotions swelling from his chest. He steadied himself against the edge of the desk.<\/p>\n \u201cJoseph,\u201d Ben said. \u201cWe have all been very patient with your shortcomings, with your proclivities . . .\u201d Ben paused at the sound of Adam\u2019s sharp inhale. \u201cBut this is the end. I never thought I would raise a cad, a . . . a bounder who trifles with women\u2019s affections or associates with women of ill repute. Someone who shames his family and himself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d Joseph\u2019s face was a study in shock. Good, perhaps Ben had his attention.<\/p>\n Ben sat back down at his desk before continuing. \u201cI\u2019ll have you know, Hoss and I were forced to apologize for your behavior with\u00a0Dorothea Purcell. Her father is quite upset. You may have gone too far this time, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa,\u201d Hoss interrupted, \u201cMr. Purcell wasn\u2019t upset . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStop trying to protect your brother,\u201d Ben growled. \u201cJoseph, I\u2019m warning you; mend your ways.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa, if you would just . . .,\u201d Joe began.<\/p>\n Ben gave the slightly open desk drawer a hard push. It finally closed with a loud bang.<\/p>\n \u201cShut your mouth, boy. Don\u2019t say another word tonight.\u201d\u00a0 Joseph\u2019s mouth shut with an almost audible click.<\/p>\n Ah, blessed silence, finally. Had he gotten through to the boy? Apparently not. Rather than display remorse, his youngest boy\u2019s expressive eyes pleaded for understanding, for sympathy. When Ben failed to respond to the silent plea, the boy\u2019s eyes filled with tears.\u00a0 It was sickening to watch.\u00a0 Where had he gone wrong? He supposed he could spare a bit of advice.<\/p>\n \u201cGrow up, Joseph.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Adam finally got out of bed.\u00a0 Clearly, he wouldn\u2019t get any sleep, and he usually fretted better on his feet.<\/p>\n He couldn\u2019t remember anything that had shaken and saddened him more than the scene between his father and Little Joe.\u00a0 It didn\u2019t help that Adam felt a bit guilty for bringing up the barn dance in the first place. He had never dreamed Ben would have reacted so viciously. Their father had a bit of a temper, but he had never\u2013at least until now\u2014been deliberately hurtful. The words Pa had flung at Joe were so cold and cruel that someone who didn\u2019t know them would be forgiven for believing that Ben hated Little Joe.<\/p>\n The evening that followed Ben\u2019s outburst had been painful for everyone. Ben had immediately turned his back to his family and began to draw. Nothing Adam or Hoss said made the slightest impact; their father hadn\u2019t even looked up from his sketches.<\/p>\n Little Joe hadn\u2019t spoken another word. He\u2019d merely climbed the stairs and gone to his room.<\/p>\n No one had sat down for dinner.<\/p>\n Hoss had hauled Adam out to the porch and bent his ear for too long with the wild tale Kade McNeill had spouted.\u00a0 Honestly, curses?\u00a0 Ben Cartwright might be acting strangely, but Adam wasn\u2019t ready to call in a priest for an exorcism.<\/p>\n He and Hoss had tried to talk to Little Joe. They\u2019d gone to his room to find him stretched out on his bed, mute and miserable. The only response he gave them were shrugs, finally dismissing them altogether when he rolled away pulling his quilt over him.<\/p>\n Adam wiped a weary hand over his face.\u00a0 The clock in the great room sounded four in the morning.\u00a0 He might as well get dressed. He thought if he moved quietly he could get to the kitchen for hot water without rousing the entire house.\u00a0 Pulling his robe around him, he slipped from his room and closed his door with a soft click. As he started down the stairs, he was surprised to see the lamps were still burning in the great room. His father was slumped in the red leather chair, chin against his chest, dead to the world. A bottle of brandy was nestled between his knees, the sketch book lay open on the rug at his father\u2019s feet. He didn\u2019t stir when Adam moved the bottle to the hearth.<\/p>\n What was so darn compelling about those sketches, anyway? Adam picked up them up, flipping through the pages. He smiled at the drawings of the house and lake. There was no doubt his pa had talent; the images were charming. The pictures of the Indian village were also well done. Adam stopped smiling when he reached the final pages of the sketch book. His father had drawn realistic scenes of brutal carnage: men dismembered, dying, and dead on a battlefield.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Ben fumed. His errant youngest son continued to be a thorn in his side. His laziness was contagious; Hoss and Adam had dithered and dallied waiting for Joe to emerge from his room until Ben had, in no uncertain terms, ordered the two out of the house.<\/p>\n The Good Book said that when a father spared the rod, he spoiled the child. He\u2019d been too easy on Joseph. Far better to punish him now\u00a0than allow sinful ways. Joseph was about to find out he wasn\u2019t too old for a \u201cnecessary talk.\u201d<\/p>\n Creaking boards and the soft thud of boots against wood signaled Joseph was finally ready to face the day. Ben settled comfortably in his desk chair, sharpening a pencil with the knife he\u2019d found. Joe himself finally appeared at the top of the stairs, his surly attitude evident.<\/p>\n \u201cGood morning, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s not much of the morning left, is there?\u201d\u00a0 Ben continued working at the pencil tip, sparing only a glance for his son.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry,\u201d Joe said. \u201cI guess I overslept. I\u2019ll head out to the north pasture like we planned.\u201d He came slowly down the steps, stopping on the landing.<\/p>\n What was the boy waiting for?\u00a0 If he was supposed to be out working, he should be moving with purpose, not tiptoeing around like a child.<\/p>\n \u201cI was hoping we could talk before I go. I\u2019m not sure what\u2019s wrong, but I thought that if we talked it out, maybe I could understand what\u2019s goin\u2019 on\u00a0 . . .\u00a0 and I could explain . . .\u201d<\/p>\n Ben stood up.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re right, Joseph, we need to talk.\u201d He began working his belt out of the loops. It was quite satisfying to watch Little Joe go pale.<\/p>\n \u201cPa, you\u2019re not touching me with that belt.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ll do as you\u2019re told, Joseph.\u201d\u00a0Ben pushed back from the desk and rounded the corner to the bottom of the stairs.<\/p>\n \u201cI haven\u2019t done anything to deserve a beating,\u201d Joe said. \u201cI\u2019m goin\u2019 to the north pasture for the day, and then I\u2019m gonna spend the night in town. I don\u2019t feel too welcome around here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t defy me, Joseph.\u201d Ben started up the steps. \u201cI\u2019m your father, and I tell you what you deserve.\u201d\u00a0 He reached the landing, breathing fast and glaring at Joseph.<\/p>\n \u201cLet me by, Pa! I don\u2019t wanna hurt you.\u201d<\/p>\n Joseph tried to duck past him, but was stopped when Ben grabbed the front of his shirt. Joe pulled back, his hands on Ben\u2019s wrists trying to wrench free from his father\u2019s grasp. The two wrestled\u2014Joseph determined to escape the house, and Ben just as determined he remain to face his punishment. In the end, it didn\u2019t take too long to decide the winner. Ben had the advantage of height, weight, and anger. Little Joe was no match for him. When Joe tried to twist free, Ben twisted the boy\u2019s arms around and gave him a good shove to subdue him. Joe\u2019s heels slipped over the edge of the landing\u00a0and he tumbled backward down the remaining steps, rolling awkwardly until he landed in a jumbled heap on the floor.<\/p>\n Ben stood there, unbelieving.\u00a0The cloud of emotion that surrounded him evaporated.\u00a0He moved slowly down the stairs, expecting Joe to jump up and make a dash for the door.\u00a0 Instead, his son lay motionless, arms and legs sprawled, eyes open and unblinking while a small pool of blood spread beneath his head.<\/p>\n He sat down hard on the bottom step when he found he couldn\u2019t quite catch his breath.\u00a0Everything that had happened\u2014the fight, his anger at Joseph, felt like a nightmare.\u00a0 It couldn\u2019t be real, could it?\u00a0 Had he hurt Little Joe?\u00a0 He crawled toward his son before laying his head on Joe\u2019s chest-straining to hear a heartbeat. Nothing.\u00a0 He turned Little Joe\u2019s face towards him, slapping him on the cheek without response.\u00a0 It was no use.\u00a0 Ben choked on a sob as he lay his hand across his son\u2019s face, closing the green eyes.<\/p>\n He scrabbled backward finally pulling himself up into his desk chair, laying his head on the smooth, polished surface and cried. What had he done?\u00a0 What could he do?\u00a0 There was no making this right.\u00a0 There was no cure or solution for the monstrous mistake he had made.\u00a0 Adam and Hoss would never, ever forgive him. He couldn\u2019t forgive himself. He lifted his head, dashing away the tears.\u00a0 The knife.\u00a0 It lay there, edge honed and glinting.\u00a0 He couldn\u2019t fix this, but he could atone for his sin.<\/p>\n With the decision, he felt calmer.\u00a0 He rolled back his sleeve, exposing his left arm past the elbow.\u00a0 Picking up the knife, he brought the tip to the inside of his arm. He was certain it would be quicker, more efficient to slice down toward his hand rather than cut across his wrist.<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n Kade McNeill was standing in front of him, blocking his view of Joseph\u2019s bleeding body.\u00a0 Where had he come from?<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t do it, Mr. Cartwright. It wasn\u2019t your fault.\u201d\u00a0 Ben looked at him, unbelieving.\u00a0 The evidence of Ben’s wrongdoing was right in front of them, and this strange man claimed it wasn’t Ben’s fault?<\/p>\n \u201cI hurt him. I hurt my boy.\u201d\u00a0 Ben’s voice cracked, and he dropped his head into his hands.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, you did. But, it wasn\u2019t your fault.\u00a0If you help me now, we’ll make certain no one else is hurt.\u201d\u00a0 Kade McNeill stretched out a hand to help Ben to his feet.<\/p>\n Ben knew what he had to do, and he wished a million times over that he had done it sooner. At least this way, no other father\u2019s child would be hurt. He and Kade McNeill carried the desk out the front door into the yard. While Ben Cartwright stood shaken and miserable, hands covered in his son’s blood, Kade soaked the beautiful antique desk with lamp oil and set it alight.<\/p>\n The wood caught fire fast and burned devilishly bright. The flames leaped, and a pillar of choking black smoke rose into the air. In Ben\u2019s fevered imagination, the desk groaned and screamed in agony as it burned, voices shouted in anguish and anger, children cried for mercy, and men sobbed for forgiveness.<\/p>\n He coughed, eyes and lungs burning with the noxious fumes.\u00a0 Kade McNeill slipped an arm\u00a0around\u00a0Ben’s shoulder and helped him to the porch.<\/p>\n \u201cI should have listened to you, Mc Neill.\u00a0 I should have let you have the desk . . .\u201d Ben vision was full of the black smoke and without quite knowing how, he found himself flat on his back, too weak to keep his eyes open. It didn\u2019t matter; he never wanted to open his eyes again. As he gave himself over to oblivion, he thought he could hear Kade McNeill\u2019s comforting words.<\/p>\n \u201cEverything will be all right, Mr. Cartwright.\u00a0 I promise everything will be all right.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Adam didn\u2019t notice it at first, tucked in a corner surrounded by stacks of books and shelves stuffed with fussy bric-a-brac.<\/p>\n One never knew what might be found in Weber\u2019s Household Emporium, and Adam frequently passed an enjoyable hour poking through the ever-changing, eclectic inventory. Fritz Weber had the knack of turning up the most interesting items.<\/p>\n Although he didn\u2019t have anything specific in mind, Adam hoped to discover something suitable for Pa\u2019s birthday. With any luck, the whatever-it-was would surprise and please Pa while effectively wiping away any lingering memory of last year\u2019s disaster that had nearly cost Joe\u2019s life.\u00a0Privately, the brothers had made a pact \u2013no more \u201cspecial\u201d horses.<\/p>\n When Adam sneezed for the fourth time, he was nearly ready to give up sorting through piles of goods that most folks would uncharitably term junk. Couldn\u2019t Weber be bothered at all to display his stock to better advantage?\u00a0 Really, it was a wonder the man sold anything at all.<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s persnickety nature got the better of him. He spent at least ten minutes gathering and stacking the books neatly and arranging the glazed vases and figurines by size and color. Satisfied with his work, he stepped back to admire the new display and to wipe the sweat from his brow. His backward progress was halted abruptly when a sharp edge connected with his backside. Whirling about to scowl at the offending object, he instead was struck by the beauty of simple item.<\/p>\n An antique mess kit of the sort officers had carried to field more than a hundred years\u00a0before was perched on a table. How had he missed it?\u00a0\u00a0When Adam checked the price inked on the card, he saw an opportunity.<\/p>\n \u201cFritz, what can you tell me about this mess kit?\u201d<\/p>\n The store owner ambled over, expertly maneuvering through the displays.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have a fine eye, Adam!\u201d Fritz Weber praised him. \u201cThis little beauty came from the estate of Alistair McNeill.\u00a0 He and his son, Kade, amassed quite the collection of Revolution-era items.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe son is selling off the collection?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, it seems the son has also passed away.\u00a0There was some awful story going around,\u201d Fritz said primly, “but you know I don’t like to repeat gossip.”\u00a0 Fritz paused, clearly hoping to be urged to share what he’d heard.\u00a0 Adam decided not to ask; he didn’t want to tempt Fritz into gossiping.<\/p>\n Adam pursed his lips in contemplation. He was pretty certain he was about to do something uncharacteristically spontaneous; it would be nice if it turned out well.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll take it.\u201d<\/p>\n They clasped hands to seal the deal, and Fritz promised to have the kit securely wrapped and stowed in Adam\u2019s wagon within the hour.<\/p>\n Pleased with himself, Adam departed for a leisurely lunch at the Silver Dollar that was greatly enhanced by a couple of beers. Adam was whistling a cheery tune as he pushed through the bat wing doors into the glare of the afternoon sun.\u00a0He checked the back of the wagon to make sure Pa’s gift had been packed and\u00a0found the kit, securely wrapped in brown paper and string with a note tucked into a corner.\u00a0 Adam opened the neatly folded paper and frowned in confusion at the message.<\/p>\n A fit present for a father.\u00a0 Enjoy it with my compliments and blessings.<\/p>\n Adam shook his head; he didn’t remember\u00a0telling Fritz\u00a0the desk was\u00a0a gift for his father.\u00a0Hauling himself up onto the wagon seat, he slapped the reins and headed the team toward home.<\/p>\n Pa was going to love his birthday gift.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The End<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Words drawn:\u00a0 desk, revolution, draw, stalker, knife<\/p>\n Tags:\u00a0 Adam Cartwright,\u00a0Ben Cartwright,\u00a0Birthday,\u00a0Hoss Cartwright,\u00a0Joe \/ Little Joe Cartwright,<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Summary: \u00a0The boys are determined to find a birthday gift their father will love.\u00a0 They succeed too well.<\/p>\n Rated: \u00a0T\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Word count: \u00a06773<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":35,"featured_media":383,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","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_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[23,1008,40],"tags":[158],"class_list":["post-13203","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","category-family","category-challenges","tag-pppt","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-1008-id","wpcat-40-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/coming-soon-9.jpg?fit=320%2C240&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13203","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\/35"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=13203"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13203\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/383"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13203"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13203"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13203"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}