This story was written for the the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 3<\/p>\n
Summary:\u00a0 The ghosts of Christmas past, present, and yet to come visit the Ponderosa.<\/p>\n
Rating:\u00a0 G\u00a0 \u00a0 (17,400 words)<\/p>\n
This census\u00a0first took place<\/b>\u00a0while Quirinius was governing Syria.<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n A Cartwright Christmas Carol (With thanks and apologies to Mr. Dickens)<\/p>\n Stave 1<\/b><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b>Grandfather Cartwright\u2019s Ghost<\/b><\/p>\n Grandfather Cartwright was dead, to begin with.\u00a0\u00a0There is no doubt whatever about that.*\u00a0\u00a0None of Ben Cartwright\u2019s three sons had been present at the unhappy event, nor had they seen a grave or headstone marking any final resting place.\u00a0\u00a0None of them had even met their grandfather while he still lived\u2014though it must be said that for all except Adam that would have been impossible, as Joseph Cartwright had shuffled off this mortal coil when Ben\u2019s eldest was little more than a babe in arms.\u00a0\u00a0Still, the Cartwright brothers had no doubt that their father\u2019s sire was dead.<\/p>\n For one, Ben had told them so, and there was no reason to suspect that he was lying.\u00a0\u00a0The invention of such a falsehood would indeed have served very little purpose.\u00a0\u00a0Ben\u2019s relationship with his father had not been particularly warm, but it\u00a0had<\/i>\u00a0been cordial and should the elder Joseph have still lived, Ben would have welcomed a chance for his father to meet his sons.<\/p>\n For another, the three boys had seen the old man\u2019s death certificate one lazy summer afternoon while poking around in a storage area they (and their backsides) would have done better to avoid.\u00a0\u00a0It was stored in an old trunk with a copy of the elder Cartwright\u2019s will, several previously unknown (to them) heirloom keepsakes, and a medium-sized portrait of their father\u2019s family in which Ben was no more than eight years of age.\u00a0\u00a0This was confirmation enough of Joseph Cartwright the Elder\u2019s demise\u2014if such confirmation had been needed.\u00a0\u00a0Which it was not.<\/p>\n Grandfather Cartwright was dead.\u00a0\u00a0I don\u2019t wish to belabor the point, but this must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate.*<\/p>\n For if he was\u00a0not<\/i>\u00a0dead, it would not have come as quite the shock when each of the boys spotted him in the crowds around Virginia City on the morning of Christmas eve.\u00a0\u00a0Oh, they would have been surprised, certainly.\u00a0\u00a0Amazed.\u00a0\u00a0Confused (for nothing Ben had told them of the man made him out to be the type to take a surprise journey into the western wilds during the peak of winter).\u00a0\u00a0But at least such an event would have been possible, were he still \u2026 alive.<\/p>\n Which he was not.<\/p>\n How did they recognize him, you might ask?\u00a0\u00a0Recall, if you will, the portrait found some years back.\u00a0\u00a0Upon Marie Cartwright\u2019s urging, Ben had removed it from the trunk into their (his and Marie\u2019s) bedroom.\u00a0\u00a0He would not display it elsewhere, but in tribute to his late wife he had left it in its place during the years since her death.\u00a0\u00a0Having therefore viewed it with some frequency, the brothers had become familiar with certain of their late grandfather\u2019s more striking characteristics.\u00a0\u00a0A deeply cleft chin, for one\u2014so much so that they might have thought it an accident of the artist if their father had not assured them otherwise.\u00a0\u00a0A sizeable wart to the side of the nose was another trait faithfully recorded by that honest painter, as well as other features which I will not detail here.\u00a0\u00a0Be assured, however, that Ben Cartwright\u2019s boys were familiar enough with their grandfather\u2019s appearance to note well who it was they glimpsed down an alley or across the way that day.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t know what would have happened had they been together when they saw him \u2026 but that is\u00a0not<\/i>\u00a0what happened, and I will not digress into such speculation.\u00a0\u00a0The three brothers were, in fact, as far distant from each other as possible in a place the size of Virginia City.\u00a0\u00a0They had come to town for last minute supplies (of which the Ponderosa had no real need) because, quite frankly, their father was entirely finished with the lot of them and had practically thrown them out the front door into the buckboard.\u00a0\u00a0They had been sniping and arguing for days, and it seemed only logical to split up when they arrived in order to accomplish their errands as painlessly as possible.\u00a0\u00a0They would complete their tasks, have a drink (in separate saloons), and meet back at the buckboard to drive back home with plenty of daylight remaining.<\/p>\n Suffice it to say that none of the brothers had been expecting to see his dead grandfather strolling those familiar streets, and none felt any need to mention it to the others when they finally met up again.\u00a0\u00a0Adam was too annoyed and offended by the impossibility to give it any more thought than he felt it deserved.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss had all but persuaded himself he was seeing things, and Little Joe was convinced (rightly so, I\u2019m afraid) that he would be accused by his eldest brother of over-imbibing and be forced to defend his sobriety (he\u2019d had only three\u2014well, maybe four) for the entire ride home.\u00a0\u00a0Therefore none of them brought up the odd occurrence.\u00a0\u00a0It was, however, a strangely silent and pensive group of young men who arrived in the Ponderosa yard just before suppertime.<\/p>\n That silence continued throughout the evening, much to Ben Cartwright\u2019s puzzlement and (sad to say) relief.\u00a0\u00a0A few testy exchanges marred the overall peace, but for the most part his boys seemed content to retreat to opposite corners and spend Christmas Eve\u00a0not<\/i>\u00a0celebrating faith and family.\u00a0\u00a0Eventually, despite a very real trepidation regarding the consequences of such an attempt, Ben tried several times to draw them out.\u00a0\u00a0He joked, he cajoled, he scolded.\u00a0\u00a0He demanded.\u00a0\u00a0He opened his much worn Bible and read the Christmas story aloud, as he had every year since Adam was small\u2014although never before to an audience fairly crackling with entirely soundless tension.\u00a0\u00a0That finished, he set the old book aside, wished his sons a weary good night, and padded up the stairs to his bed.\u00a0\u00a0His disappointment filled the room, yet even that did not serve to draw his boys from their self-imposed exiles.<\/p>\n It would have been easier, and would perhaps have made more sense, for the brothers to have sought their own beds as well.\u00a0\u00a0They were certainly drawing no satisfaction from each other\u2019s presence.\u00a0\u00a0However, some half-felt urging kept them in their places that Christmas Eve, and as the night reached its peak and the old grandfather clock stroked out midnight, a heavy knock sounded upon the door.<\/p>\n For the first time in hours, the Cartwright brothers exchanged glances.<\/p>\n They had not been expecting anyone.\u00a0\u00a0The Ponderosa was a good distance from town, and even if it were not, the hour of midnight is a late one to come calling.\u00a0\u00a0As it was, there was no telling what outlaw or indigent or errand boy might be standing upon their porch.\u00a0\u00a0It was therefore with understandable caution that the brothers approached the entrance.\u00a0\u00a0Adam picked up his gun belt from the credenza and drew his pistol forth before nodding to Joe, who had stationed himself with one hand upon the knob.\u00a0\u00a0Joe ducked his head close to the thick wood and called, \u201cWho\u2019s there?\u201d<\/p>\n They could not have been prepared for what next occurred.\u00a0\u00a0Instead of an answering voice, the figure of a man came through the door.<\/p>\n It was, in fact, the figure they had earlier seen in the streets of Virginia City\u2014their Grandfather Cartwright\u2014before them now in such a way that none could pretend to the others he did not see.\u00a0\u00a0And none of the brothers did pretend, although being thought ridiculous or slightly mad was no longer the first concern upon their minds.\u00a0\u00a0The impossibility of seeing their dead grandfather had been replaced in priority by the impossibility of a man walking directly through the heavy outer door.<\/p>\n \u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam, as the eldest and the only one brandishing any sort of weapon, took charge.\u00a0\u00a0He did not miss the black look cast him by his youngest brother, who as the one at the door handle felt that it should really be he who addressed the intruder, but he had little time for the boy\u2019s petty (as he saw them) complaints.\u00a0\u00a0Their visitor cast a disinterested gaze upon all three.<\/p>\n \u201cYou know me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, but that ain\u2019t possible.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Hoss, hovering somewhere between Adam and Little Joe, sent up the expected protest, although he was fully aware they had left behind the realm of the\u00a0expected<\/i>\u00a0some time past.\u00a0\u00a0The figure of their dead grandfather seemed wholly unconcerned.<\/p>\n \u201cWho can say what is possible on Christmas Eve?\u00a0\u00a0Who can say how many others have known similar experiences on this hallowed night, or when such\u00a0first took place<\/b>?\u00a0\u00a0But whether you believe or not, I\u00a0am<\/i>\u00a0he who was Joseph Cartwright in life.\u201d<\/p>\n To that, there really seemed nothing more to say.\u00a0\u00a0For a moment the four stood in silent tableau, the brothers staring at their grandfather\u2019s ghost and the ghost gazing at nothing in particular.\u00a0\u00a0Finally, Little Joe asked the question he had been preparing from the start (it seemed strange to him that hyper-logical Adam had chosen to begin the exchange with a query whose answer was so obvious).\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI bring a warning.\u201d<\/p>\n This seemed an ominous purpose, and the brothers again exchanged glances.\u00a0\u00a0Adam, having decided his pistol would do little good against a man already dead, replaced it on the credenza and motioned into the great room.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWill you \u2026 can you, even \u2026 have a seat?\u201d<\/p>\n The question was awkward, but the ghost seemed not to notice.\u00a0\u00a0In fact, he preceded them across the floor and sat lightly upon his own son\u2019s chair.\u00a0\u00a0The boys noted that they could yet see the red leather through their grandfather\u2019s form, and it was with a sense of awe and foreboding that they followed him into the sitting area.\u00a0\u00a0As they approached they saw how Joseph Cartwright continually shifted in his chair, as if restless and uncomfortable.\u00a0\u00a0It was Hoss who first noted the reason.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s that you\u2019re wearin\u2019, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n His brothers, too, noted the garment then, which lay under the ghost\u2019s shirt and trousers, peeking out from cuffs and collar and around shoes.\u00a0\u00a0It was an odd type of clothing, certainly, for it seemed woven of nettles and thorns, a tight fit against wrists and neck and ankles.\u00a0\u00a0It was, they supposed, that garment which made the spirit of their grandfather move so constantly, as if in attempt to escape the discomfort that such underclothing should certainly produce.<\/p>\n Grandfather Cartwright\u2019s eyes roved the room, stopping upon none of them but settling finally upon the flames still cracking cheerfully upon the hearth.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is the garment I spun for myself in life, piece by piece.\u00a0\u00a0Each offense taken unnecessarily, each grudge held was an additional thorn added to its weave.\u00a0\u00a0Each refusal to consider the well-being of others over my own further extended it.\u00a0\u00a0Each opportunity lost, in my own self-righteousness, to appreciate the motivations and feelings of my fellows tightened it upon me.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Ben Cartwright\u2019s sons, upon hearing these difficult tidings, shuffled their feet and looked away, each thinking back upon his own behavior\u2014toward his brothers, his father, certain others\u2014of the past weeks.\u00a0\u00a0The ghost had not, however, finished.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe longer I wore it, the more sensitive I became, so that even the smallest slight affected me beyond all proportion.\u00a0\u00a0No longer did I have the choice of such things, for the constant rubbing of my own pride and selfish desire kept such irritations stirred within my breast, and it was no easy thing to look or think beyond them.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss, moved easily to pity, asked, \u201cAin\u2019t there anything can be done about it?\u201d<\/p>\n For the first time, the ghost of a smile flitted across the spirit\u2019s face, though it was gone in an instant.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat can be done shall be, and is\u00a0being<\/i>\u00a0done as we speak.\u00a0\u00a0Long shall I walk upon the Earth wearing this garment, but not eternally.\u00a0\u00a0He Whose mercy covers us all has ordained it.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The elder Joseph Cartwright turned his face toward them then, though still his eyes did not fasten upon any of the three.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMy own sad tale is not, however, my purpose for coming to you tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n This time, even Little Joe was content to let Adam speak for the three.\u00a0\u00a0Ben Cartwright\u2019s eldest raised a sardonic brow toward his siblings, then braced his feet and faced the spirit. \u201cTell us.\u201d<\/p>\n Grandfather Cartwright rose, and they saw that his feet did not quite rest upon the floor.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWould you care to hear, my grandsons, the length and thickness of your own such garments?\u201d<\/p>\n Perhaps no query could have so distressed the brothers as this, having heard in detail of the weaving of their grandfather\u2019s own thorny attire.\u00a0\u00a0The Cartwright sons were, on a whole, good and generous men.\u00a0\u00a0In the busy stress and overwork of the season, however\u2014of the past several months, in truth\u2014each had drawn into himself, to the exclusion of his fellows and their own particular struggles.\u00a0\u00a0Such a warning, issued by such an emissary, could not help but strike a painful chord in each listener\u2019s heart.<\/p>\n Little Joe cast a quick glance at Adam, his primary adversary of these past times, then fixed his eyes upon the floor and mumbled, \u201cI guess we could be tryin\u2019 a little harder.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Hoss muttered, shamefaced, considering his own extra-familial tensions.<\/p>\n Adam did not speak, but offered a brief nod to each of his brothers.<\/p>\n The spirit drifted nearer.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cA boon has been granted, to myself and to others who would seek to enhance your success in such efforts.\u00a0\u00a0On this night above all the veil that separates our poor world from the divine may be lifted for a time, and therefore a light may shine in recesses that would otherwise remain hidden from our sight.\u201d<\/p>\n Confused, the brothers glanced from one to another.\u00a0\u00a0Then Adam spoke again to the spirit of he who had been their grandfather.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat, uh \u2026 boon is this?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThree ghosts will visit you this night.\u201d<\/p>\n That<\/i>\u00a0news, as might be expected, was not particularly welcomed by the three, no matter the positive intention of such visitations.\u00a0\u00a0One ghostly caller had been quite enough\u2014three more throughout the night surely amounted to something of an excess.\u00a0\u00a0Joseph Cartwright the Younger edged closer to Adam, who wondered with a vague sort of desperation how his little brother possibly expected his protection from the promised manner of guest.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss wrinkled his nose and then blurted what they were all, in one form or another, thinking.<\/p>\n \u201cDo we have to?\u201d<\/p>\n The ghost of their Grandfather Cartwright might not have even heard.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe first spirit will arrive upon the stroke of one.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Green, blue, and amber eyes darted toward the face upon the clock near the entrance.\u00a0\u00a0The spirit\u2019s words did not gain in volume, but took on a resounding tone, as if echoing from within a large, hollow place.\u00a0\u00a0The brothers looked back to find that their grandfather\u2019s form had become dimmer, no longer boasting even its previous questionable solidity.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe second spirit will arrive upon the stroke of two, and the third spirit upon the stroke of three.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWait!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam stepped forward, thinking as he did so that the attempt was surely futile (and even ridiculous\u2014Ben Cartwright\u2019s eldest, being the pragmatist he was, could not yet be completely convinced the experience was not all some insane, vivid dream).\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSurely you can tell us something more.\u00a0\u00a0What kind of\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWait for them.\u201d<\/p>\n The spirit\u2019s voice was a dissolving whisper, and the ghost himself faded from view.\u00a0\u00a0For a long moment the three brothers stood in stunned silence, staring upon the spot which he who had been their grandfather had so recently occupied.<\/p>\n Then the grandfather clock struck one, and the fire flared bright within its grate.<\/p>\n Stave 2<\/b><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b>The First of the Three Spirits<\/b><\/p>\n \u201cJoyeux No\u00ebl, mes fils!\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n The voice sounded from behind, a light, fresh breeze in the heavy night and so beloved that recognition stirred their hearts on the instant even after so many years.\u00a0\u00a0They turned as one toward the stairs, and beheld Marie Cartwright descend in shimmering beauty.\u00a0\u00a0Her countenance had not been changed in their time apart\u2014she was yet young and lovely, all soft blonde hair and graceful movements and sparkling red dress to celebrate the joy of the holy season.\u00a0\u00a0As her feet reached the final step some paralysis broke from them, and the brothers rushed to her, her name tumbling from their lips.<\/p>\n \u201cMa!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMarie \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n She laughed, and her eyes danced with joy as she drank in each of them, but Marie held up one hand as they approached.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u00a0mes chers<\/i>.\u00a0\u00a0This moment we are permitted, but not to touch.\u00a0\u00a0Only the one.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her eyes landed significantly upon Little Joe, but her gaze broadened quickly to once again include all three.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIndeed, I think even if the attempt were made, you would not be able.\u00a0\u00a0Be content, though\u2014no, rejoice!\u2014that this moment of greeting has been granted us.\u201d<\/p>\n Silence hung between them for the space of several heartbeats.\u00a0\u00a0No longer was it the heavy silence of discord, however, but the amazed wonder of children.\u00a0\u00a0Finally, Hoss spoke.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ve missed you, Mama.\u00a0\u00a0Merry Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n Her tender smile fell upon him.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnd I have missed you so,\u00a0mon c\u0153ur<\/i>.\u00a0\u00a0I have watched each of you grow in both body and spirit \u2026 but would that I had been a part of that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou have, Marie.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam\u2019s voice was soft, but firm.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou \u2026 we still feel you with us, even now sometimes.\u00a0\u00a0It\u2019s not the same, of course, but we …\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Ben Cartwright\u2019s eldest trailed off, and his eyes fell to the floor.\u00a0\u00a0Such admissions did not come easily to such a man as he, but he was determined that the moment would not pass unseized.\u00a0\u00a0Her glowing glance fell upon him.<\/p>\n \u201cDearest Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe said nothing more, but tears shone in his eyes as he gazed upon her.\u00a0\u00a0Marie turned toward him, and her eyes softened as she beheld this son of her body.\u00a0\u00a0Her skirts rustled as she approached, and Joe stared in surprise as his mother held out one slender hand.<\/p>\n \u201cIt is for you that my message comes,\u00a0mon petit<\/i>.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Joe\u2019s brows puckered as he beheld her outstretched palm, and amusement touched her countenance.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOnly the one,\u201d Marie whispered, and shook her extended hand gently.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCome, Joseph.\u00a0\u00a0Take my hand.\u201d<\/p>\n With a gulp and a glance toward his brothers\u2014but also with confidence that his mother would surely do him no harm\u2014Little Joe complied.<\/p>\n In an instant, as though a curtain had fallen, the great room of the Ponderosa was no more.\u00a0\u00a0Instead Joe found himself with his mother in the corner of a tiny, bare room.\u00a0\u00a0He had seen many such rooms in his travels\u2014single bed, single table with pitcher and basin.\u00a0\u00a0It was a hotel room, or perhaps that of a boarding house.\u00a0\u00a0Poor it was, but scrubbed clean.\u00a0\u00a0For a moment Joe thought the room empty, but then a small form stirred in the shadow beneath the window.\u00a0\u00a0He watched as the lone occupant\u2019s tiny chin tucked over the low windowsill to gaze upon the darkening night, and wondered what scene this was that lay before him.<\/p>\n \u201cMama?\u201d he murmured.\u00a0\u00a0Marie\u2019s light laugh filled his ears.<\/p>\n \u201cYou need not whisper,\u00a0mon fils<\/i>.\u00a0\u00a0We are but shadows here, who cannot be seen or heard.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe nodded his understanding\u2014or rather, his acceptance, as understanding of this experience was quite beyond him\u2014and looked back to the child.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhere are we, Mama?\u00a0\u00a0Who\u2019s the boy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe are in a time years past.\u00a0\u00a0As for the boy \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her golden brows rose, as Marie\u2019s own gaze fell tenderly upon the child.\u00a0\u00a0His nose was pressed against the window now, breath fogging the cold glass.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDo you truly not know him?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShould I?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Surprised, Joe studied the boy.\u00a0\u00a0There\u00a0was<\/i>\u00a0something about him\u2014in the slant of the nose, perhaps, and the curve of the jaw, but he could not \u2026<\/p>\n \u201cPapa,\u201d the boy breathed, straightening.\u00a0\u00a0Marie drifted closer, tugging Joe along behind, and they beheld through the window the hunched form of a man trudging toward the house through the lightly falling snow.\u00a0\u00a0His coat was thin for the weather, and his trousers threadbare.\u00a0\u00a0A single bundle he clutched tight to his chest.\u00a0\u00a0As the man drew near the dark head raised, eyes searching out the window.\u00a0\u00a0The child waved, though the man below could not have seen.\u00a0\u00a0Joe gasped, darting forward.<\/p>\n His mother\u2019s grip tightened, though she made no attempt to restrain his movement.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou must keep hold of my hand,\u00a0mon fils.<\/i>\u00a0\u00a0Once our connection is broken, this will be finished.\u00a0\u00a0You shall return to your own time and place, and I must return to mine.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe nodded, his eyes still riveted upon the man below.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cPa,\u201d he breathed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMama, that\u2019s \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0A thought occurred to him then, and he looked sharply upon the boy.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIs that \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Joe\u2019s eyes met his mother\u2019s, widening, and he saw the truth there before he spoke.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIs that\u00a0Adam?<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe was a precious child, was he not?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben Cartwright\u2019s youngest, who had never thought to see his elder brother so, surveyed the child with a new interest.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe\u00a0was<\/i>\u00a0kinda cute, wasn\u2019t he?\u00a0\u00a0Who\u2019da thought it?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Joe\u2019s lips curved into an affectionate grin despite their discord of recent days.\u00a0\u00a0He watched as young Adam scampered across the room to the trundle pulled near to the low-burning hearth and burrowed beneath its coverings.\u00a0\u00a0Shortly thereafter came the sound of a heavy boot outside the door, and Ben Cartwright himself entered, slumped shoulders and bowed head entirely absent from his countenance.<\/p>\n \u201cPapa!\u201d Adam crowed, scrambling to meet him.<\/p>\n Only after setting aside his bundle did Ben lift his small son, his voice warm and cheery.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAdam!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMerry Christmas, Papa!\u201d<\/p>\n Startled, Joe cast another gaze around the lodgings.\u00a0\u00a0Only then did he notice the two well-worn socks, one large and one small, hanging by the fireplace at such a height it was obvious the shorter of the room\u2019s residents had undertaken the task.\u00a0\u00a0It was the sole indicator of the season, and Joe watched in disbelief as his father produced an orange and a peppermint stick, passing them to the child.<\/p>\n \u201cMerry Christmas, son.\u201d<\/p>\n There was that in Ben\u2019s voice which Joe recognized as weariness and disappointment, but Adam seemed not to notice.\u00a0\u00a0He sent up a ruckus over the presents, bouncing eagerly back to the warmth of his trundle.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThanks, Papa!\u201d<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s younger brother looked toward his mother.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThat\u2019s \u2026 this is Christmas for them?\u201d<\/p>\n Marie\u2019s eyes were solemn.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cChristmas is not about number or type of presents,\u00a0mon fils<\/i>.\u00a0\u00a0It may be celebrated as easily in a\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0For a moment, Joe\u2019s tone was sharp with offense\u2014he did not think himself quite so spoiled or self-centered as that.\u00a0\u00a0Quickly remembering, however, his grandfather\u2019s recent tale, he offered an apologetic glance as his eyes returned once more to the scene.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI know, but \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Adam set aside the peppermint stick carefully, and dug eagerly through the orange peel.\u00a0\u00a0Ben laughed, holding up one hand.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWait, wait, son.\u00a0\u00a0Dinner first, then treats.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He produced a bowl of thick soup and a spoon, padding the bottom carefully with the bed covering before handing the utensil to his son.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMrs. Brockhaus\u2019s lentil soup.\u00a0\u00a0Nice and warm and filling.\u201d<\/p>\n The boy hesitated, eyeing the soup and then his father.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAin\u2019t you gonna eat too, Papa?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben straightened, striding across the room to remove his coat.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI had a bite on the way home, son.\u00a0\u00a0This is all for you.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe knew that evasive tone from his father as well, and with a rush of something like horror realized the truth.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe doesn\u2019t have anything?\u201d he whispered to Marie, and felt her hand tighten upon his.<\/p>\n \u201cTimes were not easy, and your father put always the welfare of his son before his own.\u00a0\u00a0This Christmas Eve, the matter of some small gift also weighed heavily upon his heart.\u201d<\/p>\n The knowledge that not only were these few small treats the sum of their Christmas, but that Ben had gone hungry to provide them was sobering and, indeed, upsetting.\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe had always known his father had toiled hard and long across the vast expanses between Boston and what would eventually become his own land.\u00a0\u00a0Joe had never truly realized, however, the straights in which those he loved had at times lived.\u00a0\u00a0It was difficult to see them so.<\/p>\n The child who was his brother had, it seemed, already learned to recognize that tone from their father as well.\u00a0\u00a0The dark eyes watched as Ben hung the coat and returned to him, large in a face that Joe suddenly noted was thin and oh so solemn.<\/p>\n Had Adam truly never been anything but serious?<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re gonna share my orange with me though, right?\u201d<\/p>\n It was obvious to Joe what his brother was about\u2014offering the only thing Adam knew his father would accept\u2014but the older man seemed unaware of the ploy.\u00a0\u00a0Or if not unaware, merely accepting.\u00a0\u00a0Ben smiled gently and ruffled Adam\u2019s hair.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIf that\u2019s what you want, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam nodded, satisfied, and dug into the soup.<\/p>\n Marie squeezed Little Joe\u2019s hand.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCome.\u00a0\u00a0We must go.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWait!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0As distressing as was the scene before him, Joe was strangely reluctant to leave it.\u00a0\u00a0Marie tugged gently upon his hand, however, and the little room began to fade from view.<\/p>\n \u201cThere is more yet to see, and only a short time in which to do so.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe twisted back for a last glance of the two sitting upon the trundle bed, but even as he did so the light brightened, and he found himself in the middle of a silent, pristine wood on a crisp winter day.\u00a0\u00a0A thin crust covered the unspoiled snow which crunched underfoot, though Joe soon noted it was neither he nor his mother making the noise, but two young boys trudging along through the trees.\u00a0\u00a0They were well bundled against the cold, and their breath fogged the air.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019re we goin\u2019, Adam?\u201d the younger of the two asked, and the elder sighed, obviously much aggrieved by the query.<\/p>\n \u201cI told you, Hoss, it\u2019s a surprise.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHoss?<\/i>\u201d Joe whispered, and flashed a sudden wide grin.\u00a0\u00a0He bolted around the two children, dragging his mother behind him, and stopped short when their faces came into view.\u00a0\u00a0The sight of the younger boy\u2019s round, apple-red cheeks, the wispy blond curls escaping from the tight-tied hood, and the stubby legs produced peals of delighted laughter from the child\u2019s younger sibling.\u00a0\u00a0Unable to clap his hands together, Joe clasped Marie\u2019s hand tight between his own and gave in to his merriment, eyeing the little boy with a joyful mirth that had been wholly lacking from their last visit.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cLook at him!\u00a0\u00a0I didn\u2019t think Hoss was\u00a0ever<\/i>\u00a0this small!\u201d<\/p>\n Marie\u2019s smile was wry.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe is not particularly small,\u00a0mon petit<\/i>, for a child of three.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, but still \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Joe caught his breath, shaking his head once more before turning a curious gaze upon the elder of the two.\u00a0\u00a0Adam had grown in height since their last visit, of course, and had filled out somewhat, though his eldest brother still wore a skinny, hollow-cheeked visage that obviously had little to do with his food intake.\u00a0\u00a0Both boys seemed well and healthy, if not quite overfed.\u00a0\u00a0Even through the coat\u2014not as padded as Hoss\u2019s, and without a hood, but nothing like the threadbare samples Joe had seen previously\u2014Adam walked with the easy lope of a boy fit and used to hard work.\u00a0\u00a0His gloved hand gripped the little mitten firmly, his stride clearly shortened for the sake of his smaller companion.<\/p>\n \u201cBut when are we gonna\u00a0get<\/i>\u00a0there?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss\u2019s voice bordered on a whine.\u00a0\u00a0Rather than gripe, however, as was his usual response to whining (at least in Joe\u2019s experience), Adam pulled them both to a halt and grinned.<\/p>\n \u201cNow.\u00a0\u00a0We\u2019re here.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss peered around for a wide-eyed moment, then turned a suspicious gaze upon his brother.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhere?\u00a0\u00a0What\u2019s the surprise?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe had to agree with his bigger\u2014bigger-smaller, he supposed\u2014brother.\u00a0\u00a0Nothing in front of them seemed any different from the rest of its surroundings, or particularly worthy of a trek through the cold and snow to view it.\u00a0\u00a0Adam, however, released the boy and gestured patiently to a small, well-formed pine directly before them.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s going to be our Christmas tree.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss\u2019s little nose wrinkled, a mannerism startlingly similar to that of his adult counterpart.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat\u2019s this tree got ta do with Christmas?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam knelt beside the pine, digging beneath its branches to produce a small wooden box and a burlap sack.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWe\u2019re gonna decorate it.\u201d<\/p>\n Still the child frowned.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWe got pretties up at home.\u00a0\u00a0Why do we gotta come out in the woods and dec\u2019rate a tree?\u201d<\/p>\n The apparent lack of a Christmas tree in the Cartwright home was a puzzle to Little Joe, who had from infancy been fascinated by the sparkling, shimmering vision which appeared to grace the great room every Christmastide.\u00a0\u00a0Adam\u2019s next words, however, explained a great deal.<\/p>\n \u201cBecause Mama Inger said every house had ta have a tree at Christmas.\u00a0\u00a0She made Pa get us one the year we had her with us for Christmas\u2014well, you weren\u2019t born yet, but me and Pa\u2014and it was so beautiful.\u00a0\u00a0All bright and good-smellin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n The child perked up.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMy<\/i>\u00a0\u2026 mama?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The concept of his\u00a0own<\/i>\u00a0mama seemed a somewhat nebulous one for little Hoss (filling Little Joe with dismay and pity), yet suddenly the smaller boy betrayed an eagerness for the task which he had previously lacked.\u00a0\u00a0Adam nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cMama Inger.\u00a0\u00a0Remember, I told ya she\u2019s in heaven?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Hoss nodded, his small countenance reflecting the solemnity warranted by such a statement.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThat makes Pa sad, and he doesn\u2019t want us to have a tree anymore, but Mama would want you to know about \u2018em.\u00a0\u00a0I thought we could put up some pretties on this one, and I could tell you some stories about Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah!\u201d<\/p>\n Now Hoss reached eagerly for the bits of bright yarn and low-burned candle stubs and stale popcorn produced by his brother from the box and bag.\u00a0\u00a0Adam himself stood back, letting Hoss strew the makeshift decorations about the lower branches of the tree, and began a string of short holiday anecdotes involving Ben\u2019s late wife.\u00a0\u00a0He told of their tree, of endless baking with few supplies, of her visits to families less fortunate than the Cartwrights.\u00a0\u00a0He told of a day named after Saint Lucy on which Mama Inger had appeared with a wreath of lit candles crowning her head.\u00a0\u00a0He had thought it beautiful, but Pa had been mad.\u00a0\u00a0At least, Pa had\u00a0sounded<\/i>angry.\u00a0\u00a0Mama told him later Pa was really just afraid that something (Mama\u2019s hair, probably) would catch on fire.\u00a0\u00a0She had laughed and told Pa that many women of her country wore such a wreath on this day, but Pa didn\u2019t seem satisfied and she finally took it off.\u00a0\u00a0Pa had been much happier with the special bread she served for breakfast.\u00a0\u00a0Adam told of Swedish songs and abundant laughter and a day spent snuggled by the fire, and somehow in that telling Hoss\u2019s little tree with its poor decorations became beautiful.<\/p>\n Finally finished, Hoss seemed content to simply stand and gaze upon their Christmas tree as Adam spun his tales, blue eyes shining with wonder.\u00a0\u00a0Adam\u2019s voice was soft, his own eyes lost in memory, and none of Ben Cartwright\u2019s sons (Little Joe included) noted the passage of time that snowy afternoon.<\/p>\n *Part of the line is taken from Mr. Dickens’ work.<\/p>\n ~To be continued on Day 4<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Link to the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 4 – A Cartwright Christmas Carol – Part 2<\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>\n This story was written for the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 4<\/p>\n A continuation of A Cartwright Christmas Carol<\/p>\n <\/p>\n So all went to be registered, everyone to\u00a0his own city<\/strong>.<\/em><\/p>\n A Cartwright Christmas Carol – Part 2 Stave 2<\/b><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b>The First of the Three Spirits<\/b><\/p>\n (continued)<\/b><\/p>\n \u201cAdam!\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n All three jumped when that bellow split the air\u2014it was a tone all too well known to be ignored.\u00a0\u00a0Adam focused then, and seemed for the first time to notice how the light had dimmed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWe been out too long,\u201d he hissed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI didn\u2019t pay attention.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Even at such a young age, Joe\u2019s eldest brother seemed to take such a failing personally.\u00a0\u00a0He grumbled, and waved his little brother back down their trail.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou get going.\u00a0\u00a0I\u2019ll be right there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are ya gonna do?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHoss!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam\u2019s dark brows dipped into a fair imitation of Ben Cartwright\u2019s scowl.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNever you mind, little nosey, you just go!\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss pouted for moment, then decided it was not worth the effort.\u00a0\u00a0He turned and went crunching back along the row of footprints, calling loudly, \u201cPa!\u00a0\u00a0Pa, we\u2019re here, Pa!\u201d<\/p>\n Left alone, Adam scrambled to gather the box and bag which had held their \u2018decorations\u2019.\u00a0\u00a0Joe expected him to follow immediately behind \u2026 but instead Little Joe\u2019s eldest brother froze in his tracks, the easy merriment of the afternoon leaching from his face and stance.\u00a0\u00a0For a moment Joe thought his brother had seen something to upset him, but when Adam\u2019s young voice spoke, the words scattered such supposition to the winds.<\/p>\n \u201cI miss you, Mama.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The boy swiped at a tear, and Joe sucked in a breath.\u00a0\u00a0Rarely, if ever, had he seen this brother cry.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI miss you\u00a0so<\/i>\u00a0bad.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0For a long moment Adam was silent, eyes dark and shoulders rigid, then the child added, \u201cI\u2019m doin\u2019 the best I can.\u00a0\u00a0Pa is too, but he\u2019s gotta work hard and he\u2019s tired a lot.\u00a0\u00a0I \u2026 I take real good care of Hoss, though, and I try to tell him about you.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0A flicker of a smile touched the boy\u2019s face.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou\u2019d be proud of Hoss, Mama.\u00a0\u00a0He\u2019s a real good boy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAdam!\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n Adam scrubbed his sleeve briskly across his face, mumbled, \u201cMerry Christmas, Mama,\u201d then hurried away after Hoss.\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe stared at his retreating form.\u00a0\u00a0He was barely aware of Marie\u2019s presence, or of his mother\u2019s hand in his own.<\/p>\n \u201cI knew \u2026 I mean, I know he remembers Hoss\u2019s ma, but I guess I never thought about how \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Distress filled his countenance.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI don\u2019t think I coulda gone through losing you twice, Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n Gentle fingers touched his cheek.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou would have survived,\u00a0mon petit<\/i>, and flourished.\u00a0\u00a0You are stronger than you know.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Marie\u2019s eyes drifted along the darkening path which had taken the two boys from their sight.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYour brother has lived through much in his lifetime, has he not, and yet he has emerged whole and able to love.\u00a0\u00a0You would do the same.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe,\u201d he agreed, though his tone lacked any ring of conviction.\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe pondered briefly the sights he had seen this night, and found himself surprised (though perhaps he should not have been) by his conclusions.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMama, is all of this why Adam\u2019s always so\u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her brow lifted, and Joe fell silent.\u00a0\u00a0His feelings toward his eldest brother had not been charitable as of late, and he did not (for any of their sakes) wish such complaints to intrude upon this time.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe way he is?\u201d<\/p>\n A faint smile crossed Marie\u2019s lips, but regarding those queries she remained silent.\u00a0\u00a0Instead, her cool grip tightened around his.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCome,\u00a0mon fils<\/i>.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She tugged gently.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWe have yet one place more to visit, before our time is through.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Joe sighed.\u00a0\u00a0If his mother chose not to speak\u2014or\u00a0could<\/i>\u00a0not, for reasons he did not understand\u2014he would never convince her.\u00a0\u00a0That much he remembered well.\u00a0\u00a0Instead, therefore, he spoke the other words upon his heart.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI don\u2019t want you to go.\u201d<\/p>\n Marie\u2019s laughter swirled around them.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cBut I must!\u00a0\u00a0I have done so.\u00a0\u00a0The past has already been,\u00a0mon cher<\/i>\u2014it may be viewed, as we are doing now, but it may not be changed.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The snow-covered evergreens faded even as she spoke, and Little Joe found himself suddenly back in the great room at the Ponderosa\u2014though not as it was in the current time.\u00a0\u00a0Feminine touches scattered about the walls and the flat surfaces, vases of holly decorated the tables and the mantlepiece (the delicate one which he barely remembered\u2014it had not yet been replaced by the longhorns, a story which still no one would share with him).\u00a0\u00a0As Little Joe\u2019s eyes fell upon the fire, however, he noted the three silver frames lining the mantle and his heart sank.<\/p>\n Ben Cartwright had never kept pictures of his other wives in evidence while Marie still lived.<\/p>\n His mother must have felt his hand tremble, for she clasped it tight between her own.\u00a0\u00a0Before any words could be spoken, however, a figure stirred in the shadows.\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe saw then that his father sat in the red leather chair, between the great tree and the low-burning fire.\u00a0\u00a0He had no time to wonder what Ben might be doing here, however, alone in the night, for a quiet step sounded behind them.\u00a0\u00a0Joe turned and saw his eldest brother descending the stairs, hair rumpled and nightshirt hanging about his knees.<\/p>\n It was Adam as Joe remembered him in those faint snatches of earliest memory\u2014tall, slight, and with more hair than Ben Cartwright\u2019s eldest could ever hope to see again.\u00a0\u00a0His face, as he passed the fire, was the face Joe knew, though still hollow with youth.\u00a0\u00a0Adam halted before the red chair and crouched before their father.<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben sighed, scrubbing a hand over one face.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI thought I was doing so well.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s tone was confused.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou are, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought \u2026 but \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The elder Cartwright waved a vague hand toward the tree, and suddenly a sob escaped into the darkness.<\/p>\n His pa was crying.\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe felt his own answering tears rise, and wished briefly that Pa could have somebody more comforting than ol\u2019 Adam at his side.\u00a0\u00a0His brother leaned forward, however, curling a hand around their father\u2019s nape and pulling the grey-shot head to rest against his shoulder.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou\u2019re doing fine, Pa.\u00a0\u00a0It\u2019s just Christmas, is all.\u201d<\/p>\n The sobs burst forth then, no longer to be denied.\u00a0\u00a0For a long moment father and son were still, Ben spending his grief upon his eldest\u2019s shoulder and Adam rocking them both gently, murmuring words that Joe was unable to hear.\u00a0\u00a0It was, he realized, just as well.\u00a0\u00a0Though he might be privileged to view a few scenes from the past, some things were best kept between those for whom they were intended.<\/p>\n In truth, Joe was too busy being amazed by his brother\u2019s actions to focus on such details.\u00a0\u00a0Adam was, to be fair, usually there for him at need (with the exception of those few years his brother had been in college back East).\u00a0\u00a0He was always ready with advice (even when Joe didn\u2019t ask or want it), but he was also willing to just help Joe work through a difficult decision on his own.\u00a0\u00a0He was soothing when Joe was ill or injured, and a good teacher of all things ranch-related (once he managed to drop his acerbic commentary for long enough\u00a0to<\/i>\u00a0teach).\u00a0\u00a0Adam had never been, to Joe\u2019s memory, an especially comforting person, however, and an embrace was certainly never his first approach to \u2026 well, to anything.\u00a0\u00a0Yet here he was, holding their weeping father with no sign of discomfort or impatience.<\/p>\n If Little Joe was learning anything from his adventures of this Christmas Eve night, it was that Adam was not entirely the person his youngest brother had always thought him.<\/p>\n Perhaps, he pondered, it was what he had been meant to learn.<\/p>\n Finally Ben drew away, wiping at his eyes and chuckling wryly through his remaining tears.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSorry about that, son.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam drew back and settled cross-legged before their pa\u2019s chair, tugging the nightshirt over his knees.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He shrugged. \u201cChristmas is a hard time.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0There was a faint catch to his own voice and Ben looked at him sharply, but his son\u2019s face was impassive as ever.\u00a0\u00a0Ben nodded slowly then, and blew out a deep breath.<\/p>\n \u201cI wanted \u2026 I thought that this time \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He sighed heavily and shook his head, leaning his chin on one fisted hand.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnd I had hoped that at least one of my sons would have the childhood that you\u00a0all<\/i>\u00a0deserved.\u201d<\/p>\n Those words struck with the force of a blow.\u00a0\u00a0Joe had never really thought to imagine his brothers\u2019 childhoods, beyond a vague idea of much travel and smaller accommodations.\u00a0\u00a0Had he not, though, seen the truth during the course of this night?\u00a0\u00a0How often had he grumbled that Adam remembered nothing of being a kid, that he must have been born full-grown?\u00a0\u00a0It seemed now those words were truer than he had ever imagined.\u00a0\u00a0A great regret for the times he had flung such accusation in his elder brother\u2019s face stirred in Little Joe\u2019s breast.<\/p>\n One of Adam\u2019s dark brows rose.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cPa, Little Joe will have his childhood.\u00a0\u00a0His mama\u2019s \u2026 gone, but we\u2019re all here for him, and we\u2019ll make sure of it.\u00a0\u00a0He\u2019s got a family and a home.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam reached out to squeeze their father\u2019s knee.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe\u2019s got Hop Sing, and Mitch Devlin\u2014those two\u2019re gonna be thick as thieves, if I don\u2019t miss my guess\u2014and all the horses in that corral out there his little heart can stand.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s rich chuckle lacked volume, but not humor.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI\u2019m not sure that corral will ever hold enough horses for Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam sat back and smiled\u2014a wistful, faraway expression.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s not the same as if \u2026 if Marie was still here, but \u2026 Pa, he\u2019ll get to be a kid.\u00a0\u00a0We all want that for him.\u201d<\/p>\n Suddenly, Joe could stand no more.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCan we leave now?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat troubles you,\u00a0mon fils<\/i>?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His mother\u2019s voice was gentle, if unsurprised.<\/p>\n \u201cThem!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe swung a wide hand at his father and brother, who continued their low-voiced conversation unaware that their audience had been lost.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThey \u2026 I never knew any of this!\u00a0\u00a0Why did I never\u00a0know<\/i>\u00a0any of this?\u201d<\/p>\n Marie\u2019s eyes and expression were calm, implacable.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNone of us can be privy to all that went before, nor should we be.\u00a0\u00a0Is it not enough\u2014has it not always\u00a0been<\/i>enough\u2014to know that your father and brothers love you, without knowing the pain which enriches that love?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut I \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Joe took a shaky breath, watching as Adam gripped their pa\u2019s hand and hauled Ben to his feet.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI don\u2019t \u2026 I\u00a0didn\u2019t<\/i>\u00a0appreciate them like I should.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNeither do we ever truly appreciate our loved ones as they deserve.\u00a0\u00a0Is this your fault,\u00a0mon petit<\/i>, for straining to grow against the constraints of youth and family?\u00a0\u00a0Is it their fault, for not divulging their innermost struggles to the one whom they would protect?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, it\u2019s \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe groaned, and thrust his free hand deep in his pocket.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s nobody\u2019s fault.\u00a0\u00a0I guess we just don\u2019t \u2026 always understand each other.\u201d<\/p>\n Her delicate lips curved into a smile, lighting her countenance with the gentle glow.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSuch realization is a valuable first step,\u00a0mon cher<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe basked in his mother\u2019s approval, but a flash of the old impatience asserted itself.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSo I\u2019m supposed to just let Adam go when he\u2019s treating me like a kid that doesn\u2019t know anything?\u00a0\u00a0Because he didn\u2019t have time to be a kid himself, I\u2019m supposed to let him keep\u00a0me<\/i>\u00a0there forever?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Marie laughed softly, and cupped Joe\u2019s cheek.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNo, of course not.\u00a0\u00a0Such a response would be terribly unwise\u2014for both of you, I think.\u00a0\u00a0No, your brother knows much more than you allow him credit for \u2026 but not all.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She lifted a roguish brow, and Joe\u2019s giggle matched her own.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe has a sharp tongue he does not always use wisely, and his preference for solitude works often to his own detriment, though he does not see it.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her eyes caught Little Joe\u2019s.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNone of us is perfect,\u00a0mon petit<\/i>.\u00a0\u00a0That the two of you will argue is a certainty, with personalities such as yours.\u00a0\u00a0But remember this\u2014your brother loves you, and you love him.\u00a0\u00a0Remember what you have seen this night, and keep always in your mind that he is more than you know\u2014as\u00a0you<\/i>\u00a0are more than\u00a0he<\/i>\u00a0knows.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo \u2026 don\u2019t make it so personal,\u201d he murmured, eyes falling to his feet.\u00a0\u00a0He had done so, he knew.\u00a0\u00a0They had\u00a0both<\/i>\u00a0done so \u2026<\/p>\n \u201cOui.<\/i>\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His mother\u2019s smile turned melancholy.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou see now, I think \u2026 and my time here is finished.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe gripped her tightly, as if by doing so he could keep his mother close.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNo!\u00a0\u00a0Don\u2019t go.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut I must.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Marie took both of his hands in both of hers.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI love you,\u00a0mon fils<\/i>, and I am so proud.\u201d<\/p>\n Behind them, Ben trudged up the last of the stairs and disappeared into the upper hallway.\u00a0\u00a0Adam stood still for a long moment, staring at the three silver frames dimly outlined in the fire\u2019s glow.\u00a0\u00a0Then he sighed deeply, as if from the depths of his soul.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMerry Christmas, ladies.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He inclined his head toward each small frame, then turned and followed his father up the stairs.<\/p>\n Little Joe Cartwright released his mother\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n In the great room, the grandfather clock struck two.<\/p>\n Stave 3<\/b><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b>The Second of the Three Spirits<\/b><\/p>\n Whether an hour had truly passed from when Little Joe had disappeared with his mother from their sight, neither Adam nor Hoss could say.\u00a0\u00a0It seemed to them no time at all, however, before the grandfather clock struck the second hour\u2014both still stood near the foot of the stairs, caught up in the awe and (to be entirely truthful) baffled confusion of what was this night occurring.\u00a0\u00a0Barely had the second stroke faded when the brothers became aware of a voice raised in song, emanating from their kitchen.\u00a0\u00a0The two exchanged a brief glance, and then as one crossed toward that corner to view this new apparition.<\/p>\n The song continued, in words neither brother understood, but suddenly Adam started and his eyes filled with wonder.\u00a0\u00a0Then he grinned, as openly as Hoss had ever seen him do, and quickened his pace, ducking without fear through the wide doorway.\u00a0\u00a0Hurrying along after his brother, Hoss stopped short to stare at the miracle which had overtaken their previously dark kitchen.<\/p>\n Every table, every surface was laden, fairly groaning beneath their burdens.\u00a0\u00a0A large ham sat upon the sideboard, glazed with mustard and honey and strewn with breadcrumbs, and beside it a platter of succulent fish.\u00a0\u00a0Crisp pork sausages were mounded upon another platter, and a pot of steaming meatballs sat behind.\u00a0\u00a0On the adjoining table, a white star-shaped creation (it looked a bit like cheese, though Hoss thought he might be willing to attempt it) took up a large platter, scattered with raspberries and rich red jam.\u00a0\u00a0Beside it, a great mound of pink salad rose from a crystal serving bowl, ringed with slices of boiled egg.\u00a0\u00a0A skillet of creamy potatoes and onions sat still upon the stove, and a heap of mashed potatoes rose from a delicate china bowl.<\/p>\n Bread was heaped upon the center island\u2014flat bread, cinnamon buns, rye loaves dusted white with flour, and golden yellow rolls glazed and stuffed with raisins.\u00a0\u00a0Beside the bread stood great pitchers of dark red drink, soaking oranges and cinnamon sticks.\u00a0\u00a0A round dish of rice pudding scattered with berries, oranges, and cinnamon graced the center of the island, and upon its near end were scores of flat brown cookies, shaped like men and women and hearts.<\/p>\n A woman stood at the table\u2019s edge, rolling out more of the dark dough.\u00a0\u00a0She was tall, with high full cheeks, sparkling blue eyes, and a wealth of blonde hair coiled about her head.\u00a0\u00a0Her pert nose was dusted with flour, yet her crisp shirt-front and deep green skirt remained untouched.\u00a0\u00a0It was she who had been singing, but when the brothers approached she broke off and turned to them, reaching forth her hands in welcome.<\/p>\n \u201cGod jul, mina s\u00f6ner!<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama!\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss had rarely heard such eagerness in Adam\u2019s voice, nor seen such a sparkle in his brother\u2019s eye.\u00a0\u00a0He noted these things only briefly, however, for he was feasting his own eyes upon Inger Cartwright\u2014his\u00a0mother<\/i>\u2014of whom he had no memory but a picture in a silver frame.\u00a0\u00a0Yet here she stood.\u00a0\u00a0His greeting was softer, filled more with awe than exuberance, but no less eager.<\/p>\n \u201cMama \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy darling boys.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Inger\u2019s soft lilt embraced them, her smile lit them as with a dozen fires.\u00a0\u00a0She turned back to gather two of the heart-shaped cookies, and offered one to each.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOnly one, though,\u201d she laughed, and her merriment was such that her sons could not help but join in.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDon\u2019t spoil your Christmas breakfast.\u201d<\/p>\n The cookies were real in their hands, smooth and soft and rich with the scent of spices.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss\u2019s eyes moistened as the flavors filled his mouth and his heart\u2014he would have closed them against the tears, yet he could not turn his gaze from her.<\/p>\n From Inger.\u00a0\u00a0His mama.<\/p>\n Adam\u2019s breath was shaky.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMama, I\u2019ve \u2026\u00a0we\u2019ve<\/i>\u00a0missed you.\u00a0\u00a0So much has happened \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI have seen, my son.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Inger\u2019s smile stretched wide and wistful as she gazed upon this child of her heart, drinking him in.\u00a0\u00a0She reached for Adam\u2019s cheek, yet stopped short of touching.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI have seen, and have been so proud.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her eyes drifted to Hoss, and tears welled within them.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSo<\/i>\u00a0proud.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Speech seemed to have left him\u2014he could think of nothing to say.<\/p>\n She smiled full upon him, and Hoss caught his breath at the love there.<\/p>\n His\u00a0mama<\/i>\u00a0\u2026<\/p>\n For a moment, Inger\u2019s eyes returned to her eldest.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAdam \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She drew in a long breath then, and Hoss wondered if his mother was truly so calm as she appeared.\u00a0\u00a0When she spoke next, however, her tone was brisk.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHave another ginger snap.\u00a0\u00a0You love them so.\u201d Then, Inger spun and held out her hand to Hoss.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCome, my darling boy.\u00a0\u00a0We have little time, and much to see.\u201d<\/p>\n He hesitated, eyeing the newly flour-free palm.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhere are we \u2026 goin\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n Her white teeth flashed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCome and see.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss glanced toward Adam, but his eldest brother still had eyes only for Inger.\u00a0\u00a0Well \u2026 Little Joe had gone with Marie.\u00a0\u00a0He supposed he couldn\u2019t let ol\u2019 short shanks outdo him\u2014not when it came to trustin\u2019 a person\u2019s mama.\u00a0\u00a0Taking a deep breath, gathering his courage, Hoss engulfed Inger\u2019s hand within his own large one \u2026 and the kitchen with all its abundance was gone in an instant.<\/p>\n They stood instead against the wall of a finely decorated parlor.\u00a0\u00a0The home itself was all beauty and grace\u2014white and delicate with everything in its place.\u00a0\u00a0Decorated for the holy season, it was a work of art.\u00a0\u00a0Holly and mistletoe hung from mantle and window frames and chandelier, candles graced tables and sills, and a tree to rival that at the Ponderosa rose in the center of the room, bright with candles and shining golden ornaments.\u00a0\u00a0A tray of cookies graced the coffee table, and mugs of cider.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss grinned approvingly at the festive atmosphere, until a female voice spoke from behind the tree.<\/p>\n \u201cGerard, surely this can wait.\u00a0\u00a0It\u2019s Christmas!\u00a0\u00a0The children will be\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCaroline, I\u2019ve told you not to bother me when I have work.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss\u2019s nose wrinkled, and he looked down upon Inger.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe Reinholds?\u00a0\u00a0Ain\u2019t I had enough o\u2019 her this month, we gotta see her again now?\u201d<\/p>\n Inger frowned fiercely upon her giant of a son.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYour generous spirit suffers of late, child.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He sighed, hanging his head to acknowledge that truth.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI reckon so.\u201d<\/p>\n In fact, Hoss\u00a0knew<\/i>\u00a0so.\u00a0\u00a0He had known it already, even without this new affirmation.\u00a0\u00a0His mood had been foul for weeks, in fact, an unusual occurrence for the good-natured man and doubly so during the festive season.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss placed a good part of that upon the woman yet hidden by the Christmas tree\u2014Caroline Reinhold.\u00a0\u00a0Of course, she could not take the entire credit, but the thought of even another minute spent in a room with the woman was enough to drag the usually amiable features of Ben Cartwright\u2019s middle son into a decided scowl.<\/p>\n If only he had never agreed to help out with the Virginia City Christmas Charity \u2026<\/p>\n “Yes, but \u2026 but how long do you expect to be?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Gerard Reinhold\u2019s response was testy, and muffled in some fashion.\u00a0\u00a0Inger tugged upon Hoss\u2019s hand and he followed her reluctantly around the tree.\u00a0\u00a0The man stood beside the outer door, wrapping himself in coat and scarf.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI expect to be home when I\u2019m ready.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His wife cast an anxious glance toward the tree\u2014no, the stairs beyond.\u00a0\u00a0Caroline Reinhold was a handsome woman, no question.\u00a0\u00a0Tall, stately, and dark haired, with stunning green eyes, she was indeed a site to behold.\u00a0\u00a0Her features were clouded, however, and Hoss (even hard-hearted as he had been feeling toward the woman) could not help a touch of concern.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cGerard, the children\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan be patient until I\u2019m back.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s hardly fair!\u00a0\u00a0It\u2019s Christmas morning.\u00a0\u00a0They\u2019ll want to open their gifts.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey can wait a while.\u00a0\u00a0It isn\u2019t as if they don\u2019t have other things to keep them occupied.\u201d<\/p>\n The door slammed against any further protest.\u00a0\u00a0Caroline Reinhold stood quite still for a moment, staring at the white-painted wood mere inches from the tip of her delicate nose.\u00a0\u00a0Then she took a long, quavering breath and moved away.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss looked to his mother.<\/p>\n \u201cHow does a man speak ta his wife that way, and on Christmas?\u00a0\u00a0And those kids o\u2019 his \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Inger\u2019s eyes, as they looked upon him, were dark with affection.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMany men do.\u00a0\u00a0You know this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAin\u2019t\u00a0real<\/i>\u00a0men, not ta treat their family like that.\u201d<\/p>\n His mother squeezed his hand gently, and the scene shifted.\u00a0\u00a0A boy of about ten chased a younger girl round the tree, snatching at an embroidery hoop and sampler she kept clasped tightly to her.<\/p>\n \u201cMama!\u201d<\/p>\n The girl\u2019s shrieking\u2014for this was no game, but a true sibling squabble\u2014was finally rewarded, as Caroline hurried in from the next room.<\/p>\n \u201cGerry!\u201d she scolded, catching her son\u2019s arm.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou leave her be!\u00a0\u00a0I know your papa\u2019s late, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLet go!\u201d<\/p>\n Young Gerry jerked away.\u00a0\u00a0His sister, having paused her flight with their mother\u2019s arrival, had unfortunately stopped near enough that the boy was able to at last snatch her sewing from her hands.<\/p>\n \u201cMama!<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGerry!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Caroline reached for the embroidery, but he pulled it away.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cGerard Reinhold Junior, give your sister\u2019s sewing back immediately!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The boy glared, and Hoss was startled to see real, deep-seated resentment in those young eyes.\u00a0\u00a0From any child that manner of feeling would be troubling, but directed from a boy toward his mother …<\/p>\n For a moment he thought Gerry would not comply, then the boy thrust the crumpled sampler toward his little sister, who snatched it and scurried to the sofa.\u00a0\u00a0Caroline touched her son\u2019s shoulder gently, but he pulled away.<\/p>\n \u201cGerry, be patient.\u00a0\u00a0Your papa\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m gonna tell him you yelled at me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSon \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She reached out again, stopping short this time of actually touching him.<\/p>\n \u201cPapa don\u2019t like it when you yell at me!\u201d the boy flung at her.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe says I ain\u2019t gotta answer ta no woman, and I\u2019m gonna tell him you done it!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGerry \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n The boy dodged her outstretched hand, darted around the tree, and pounded up the stairs.\u00a0\u00a0Caroline stood staring after him, hand and lips trembling.\u00a0\u00a0On the settee, her young daughter clutched her stitching silently, a tear tracking down one cheek and lower lip quivering.<\/p>\n \u201cMama, he \u2026 that ain\u2019t right!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Hoss was nearly too appalled for speech.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNo boy oughta\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe is a troubled child, my son, from a troubled home.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Inger\u2019s previously cheerful tone was weary.\u00a0\u00a0Her hand pressed his.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNot all men treat women\u2014see<\/i>women\u2014as your father does.\u00a0\u00a0You and your brothers have had the best of examples.\u00a0\u00a0Be so grateful.\u201d<\/p>\n The scene shifted again.\u00a0\u00a0Caroline and Gerard Reinhold stood together beside the Christmas tree.\u00a0\u00a0The house was still and quiet, the window dark.\u00a0\u00a0Festive paper lay strewn beneath the tree and around the room, mute testament to the wealth of gifts which had graced the Reinhold home.\u00a0\u00a0The fire burned low in the grate, reflecting dimly against her hair and the fob of his watch.<\/p>\n \u201cI told you to wait, Caroline.\u201d<\/p>\n She took a long breath.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cGerard, supper was finished.\u00a0\u00a0The day was nearly done.\u00a0\u00a0And they had only opened a few when you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n He seized her arm and pulled it around, eliciting a sharp cry from his wife.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI told you to wait.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDadburn<\/i>\u00a0it,\u201d Hoss muttered, and started forward\u2014having utterly forgotten that he and his mother were but spectators in the Reinhold home.\u00a0\u00a0Inger tugged him back.<\/p>\n \u201cWe can do nothing, child.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut Mama \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey cannot see or hear us, Eric.\u00a0\u00a0We can do nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n It was almost more than Hoss could bear.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe ain\u2019t got no\u00a0right<\/i>, Mama!\u201d<\/p>\n His mother\u2019s work-hardened fingers gripped his own.<\/p>\n \u201cGerard!\u00a0\u00a0They were so patient all day, I couldn\u2019t keep them waiting any longer.\u00a0\u00a0Surely<\/i>\u00a0your business could have waited until\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Her husband squeezed her wrist, and Caroline broke off with a gasp.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss could barely see past his fury.<\/p>\n \u201cI told you to wait.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Gerard\u2019s voice dropped, its very softness adding an edge.\u00a0\u00a0Caroline took a long breath and then nodded, her eyes seeking the floor.<\/p>\n \u201cI am sorry, Gerard.\u201d<\/p>\n He nodded, releasing her.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cClean this up before you come to bed.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The man turned then and climbed the stairs, sparing not a backward glance for his wife.\u00a0\u00a0Caroline stood for a moment, rubbing at her injured wrist, then moved soundlessly to gather the discarded Christmas wrappings.<\/p>\n \u201cMama!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Hoss turned toward her, finding Inger\u2019s usually sunny countenance somber.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIs this why \u2026 why she\u2019s always tryin\u2019 ta\u00a0run<\/i>\u00a0everything?\u00a0\u00a0Ta make ever\u2019body do everything the way\u00a0she<\/i>\u00a0wants it?\u00a0\u00a0Cause she ain\u2019t got no say in \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n He did not finish the thought.\u00a0\u00a0In truth, he found that he\u00a0could<\/i>\u00a0not.\u00a0\u00a0It would have been too like prying into Caroline Reinhold\u2019s personal sufferings.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss could not take his eyes from her, however\u2014the woman who had made his time with the Virginia City Christmas Charity a nightmare lived, it seemed, a nightmare of her own.\u00a0\u00a0His mother\u2019s hand tightened upon his and the Reinhold home melted from around them.\u00a0\u00a0He found it difficult to focus upon the next scene, and only Inger\u2019s gentle urging drew his attention to their new destination.<\/p>\n It was a little dark room, bare of Christmas cheer and lit only by the glow of a banked fire.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss recognized the place\u2014it was the front room of the Box C ranch house.\u00a0\u00a0Jim Cobbin\u2019s spread.\u00a0\u00a0It seemed, then, that his time with his mother was to be spent touring the other Charity committee members\u2019 Christmases.\u00a0\u00a0Ben Cartwright\u2019s middle son bit back a groan.\u00a0\u00a0There was nothing he desired less \u2026 but Hoss was a practical man, and an honest one.\u00a0\u00a0He had surely, he admitted, been in need of those last visions.\u00a0\u00a0No doubt he would also find more than he had expected within the Cobbin home.<\/p>\n Or less.<\/p>\n The Box C was no large ranch, not like the Ponderosa.\u00a0\u00a0It had always been prosperous one, however, and well-tended.\u00a0\u00a0This was one reason (of several) Hoss regretted that Jim Cobbin had taken hard to the bottle after the death of his wife that previous spring.\u00a0\u00a0The man had so much to lose.<\/p>\n The summer had been a busy one, and none of the Cartwrights had seen much of the little rancher during those months.\u00a0\u00a0There had been snatches of rumor, of course.\u00a0\u00a0Stories, though Hoss had paid those little mind.\u00a0\u00a0Virginia City was a veritable breeding ground for gossip, and only a fool believed even half of what he heard there.\u00a0\u00a0It was not until Hoss had agreed to join the Charity committee and found himself sitting across from a Jim Cobbin he\u2019d never known\u2014one who reeked of whiskey and stale, hand-rolled cigars\u2014that he truly realized how bad things had become for the man.<\/p>\n The committee had allowed Cobbin back because he and his wife were founding members, and because Caroline Reinhold and Doris Parker had decided he surely couldn\u2019t do any harm.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss assumed (somewhat accurately) that both ladies were more interested in having a couple of strong backs on hand than any real input from the male committee members.\u00a0\u00a0As the weeks before Christmas passed, however, it became sadly obvious that Jim Cobbin was no longer even that.\u00a0\u00a0The rancher could barely keep himself upright many days.\u00a0\u00a0Toting furniture and heavy boxes was beyond his reach, and no amount of encouragement or scolding or camaraderie from Hoss could induce Cobbin to put aside his bottle for even the mornings of their collections and deliveries.\u00a0\u00a0Burdened by the bulk of the heavy lifting and frustrated with his inability to get through to the other man, Hoss had finally thrown up his hands in surrender\u2014much as it went against his grain to do so.<\/p>\n He had a charity to aid.<\/p>\n Now, standing within Jim Cobbin\u2019s front room on this Christmas day, Hoss was startled by its bleakness\u2014the stark walls, the bare mantel, the empty chairs.\u00a0\u00a0Empty all but one.\u00a0\u00a0Jim Cobbin slumped within a tattered leather monstrosity before the hearth, whiskey bottle in one hand and framed portrait in the other.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss did not need to cross behind the man to know that Cobbin\u2019s wife smiled upon him from beneath that glass.<\/p>\n He shifted, glaring through an unwashed window at the grey world beyond.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhy ain\u2019t John or Carol out here with him?\u00a0\u00a0It ain\u2019t right ta leave a person\u2019s pa alone on Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n Inger\u2019s blue eyes were soft with compassion.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHis children have their own families.\u00a0\u00a0You know them.\u00a0\u00a0Both his daughter and son are much involved with the town celebrations, and with their spouse\u2019s people.\u00a0\u00a0Neither wish to bring their children on a long, cold drive to spend Christmas in such a small, cheerless place.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss growled his impatience with such negligence.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt wouldn\u2019t\u00a0be<\/i>\u00a0so cheerless if somebody\u2019d get out here and make it that way!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His mouth tightened.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cJim\u2019s their pa!\u00a0\u00a0He\u2019s their pa, and he\u2019s missin\u2019 their mama!\u00a0\u00a0It\u2019s their business ta see he ain\u2019t out here alone on Christmas\u2014or any other day, fer that matter\u2014drinkin\u2019 hisself into an early grave!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Loving soul that he was, Hoss could not fathom the thought of leaving his own father to the dubious mercies of a whiskey bottle in similar straights.\u00a0\u00a0They had all so badly\u00a0needed<\/i>\u00a0each other in the months following Marie\u2019s death\u2014they had all so desperately depended upon each other.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDon\u2019t they \u2026 well, they gotta be missin\u2019 her too.\u00a0\u00a0Don\u2019t they \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He broke off, unable to choose just one among his many indignant queries.<\/p>\n \u201cNot all cope with grief in the same way, my son.\u00a0\u00a0You know this.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He did, but right now Hoss didn\u2019t want to hear it.\u00a0\u00a0Inger rubbed gently upon his arm.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cFor his daughter to come to this place without her mother would surely bring a pain she does not wish to face.\u00a0\u00a0His son \u2026 his boy has long given over loyalty to his wife, who does not wish her children involved with a drunkard.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut maybe he\u00a0wouldn\u2019t<\/i>\u00a0be, if they just\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo many \u2018maybes\u2019.\u00a0\u00a0\u2018What\u00a0if\u2019<\/i>\u00a0can never be\u2014only what\u00a0is<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n “But \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Hoss pinched at the bridge of his nose, struggling to calm himself.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cBut why don\u2019t his daughter bring him to\u00a0their<\/i>\u00a0house then, if she don\u2019t wanna come here?\u00a0\u00a0It ain\u2019t that much of a drive \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy son.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His mother eyes were understanding, yet helpless.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI cannot\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know, Mama.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Hoss halted his questions, venting his frustration with a mighty sigh.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI\u00a0know<\/i>.\u00a0\u00a0You can\u2019t tell me all them things.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His lifted brow asked for confirmation, and Inger agreed with a tiny shake of her head.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnd I\u00a0know<\/em>\u00a0John and Carol are hurtin\u2019 too, and people\u2019s families ain\u2019t always what they ought to be for each other.\u00a0\u00a0I seen it, ain\u2019t I?\u00a0\u00a0I run across enough of \u2018em in my time.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He eyed little Jim Cobbin, the sorry crumpled form sliding farther down with each drink.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnd I guess I just \u2026 I wish I\u2019d \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Many were his wishes, but none aided this lonely man in his barren home.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss squeezed his mother\u2019s fingers instead, and Inger took his large hand between both of hers.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYour heart is so big, my son.\u00a0\u00a0So big.\u00a0\u00a0You have such love for the poor and the outcast.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her lips tipped into a gentle smile.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOnly remember, perhaps, that the poor and outcast do not always wear such a face.\u201d<\/p>\n Her son nodded, taking these words to heart.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYeah.\u00a0\u00a0Yeah, I guess not.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Without removing his eyes from the unfortunate man before him, Hoss asked, \u201cWe gonna go see Doris next?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJa<\/i>, we are.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell then, let\u2019s get at it.\u00a0\u00a0I guess we \u2026 we ain\u2019t got all night.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0A shadow flitted briefly across Inger\u2019s countenance, gone so quickly that Hoss was uncertain it had ever truly been there.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWe do not.\u201d<\/p>\n The next scene to greet them was that of a cozy kitchen at dawn, warmed by a cheerful blaze and filled with the scent of coffee and cinnamon.\u00a0\u00a0Doris Parker\u2019s youngest daughter bustled about, stirring a pan of bubbling oats and removing fresh buns from the oven and pouring a rich brown brew into the waiting cups.\u00a0\u00a0Her elder brother appeared in the doorway even as she finished, carrying an armful of wood for the bin, while another woman\u2014the brother\u2019s wife, Hoss thought\u2014ushered in two small children and sat them around the table, moving with a spring in her step which belied her obvious condition.\u00a0\u00a0Not that Hoss had been unaware of this coming addition\u2014Doris had spent a great deal of their time together speaking of her family, and particularly this new bundle of blessing.\u00a0\u00a0A boy, the Parkers\u2019 youngest, stuck his head through the doorway, interrupting the general clamor.<\/p>\n \u201cMa\u2019s comin\u2019!\u201d<\/p>\n This news occasioned a hasty shedding of the eldest brother\u2019s outer coat, giggling from the children, and a quick check of the breakfast offerings by the daughter.\u00a0\u00a0The younger brother scrambled for his seat, nearly knocking it upon its side and sending up a fresh round of merriment from his nephews, and had barely settled before Tom and Doris Parker appeared.<\/p>\n Hoss was unprepared for their arrival\u2014for the slow and faltering steps of this woman who had shown such an ability to be everywhere at once (including places he wished most fervently she was not) over the past weeks.\u00a0\u00a0Doris\u2019s grip upon her husband was tight, and for himself, Tom Parker took obvious care not to move too quickly or make sudden changes of direction.\u00a0\u00a0He settled his wife in the chair at the head of the table, over her protests.<\/p>\n \u201cTom, this is your seat.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe kitchen is your domain, my dear.\u00a0\u00a0I would not presume to sit at the head of\u00a0this<\/i>\u00a0table.\u201d<\/p>\n Doris fluttered a hand, and Hoss saw that she was breathing heavily despite the slow pace and short distance they had come.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOh, silly man.\u00a0\u00a0Very well, then.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Smiling, she looked along the scrubbed tabletop at the gathered faces.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cShall I stay here in your grandpa\u2019s chair then, children?\u201d<\/p>\n They giggled, though the younger of the little ones responded in some confusion.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cGrandpa\u2019s chair is out by the tree, Grandma.\u201d<\/p>\n This innocent misunderstanding produced another round of merriment and general chatter, which Hoss noted that Doris did not join.\u00a0\u00a0Rather, she sat silent amid the cheerful chaos, looking upon them all with such love and heartache that he understood on the instant.<\/p>\n His tender heart fell within his breast.\u00a0\u00a0Looking down upon his companion, Hoss asked, \u201cMama, what\u2019s \u2026 I don\u2019t understand.\u00a0\u00a0She wasn\u2019t like this when \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Inger tightened her grip, but had no words to offer.\u00a0\u00a0None were needed, for Tom Parker stood, holding his coffee cup aloft, and the buzz of conversation trailed away.<\/p>\n \u201cHere we are this Christmas morn, together as we should be.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Little cheers from the family greeted this proclamation, and though he nodded acknowledgement, he continued without pause.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWe gather in the kitchen this morning at the request of your mother and grandmother, who remembers a tradition of Christmas mornings in the kitchen from her own childhood and insists that it will be festive, rather than simply crowded.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her sons chuckled, and Doris thumped her husband lightly upon the leg.\u00a0\u00a0Tom lifted his cup high.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYet wherever we celebrate, no matter how crowded\u201d [\u2018or hot,\u2019 their younger boy grumbled, scooting his chair away from the woodstove] \u201cwill be Christmas for us, because we\u2019re together and Christ has come.\u00a0\u00a0Raise your cups to Christmas, all.\u201d<\/p>\n Mugs (cups of milk for the children) lifted in the air, and all drank with the gusto of those who have not yet had their first morning sip of coffee.\u00a0\u00a0Tom looked upon his wife as he settled back in his chair, and Hoss saw the truth reflected in her husband\u2019s eyes as well.\u00a0\u00a0The family bowed their heads over the meal, and as Doris began to offer the blessing his mother\u2019s hand tightened and the scene shifted.<\/p>\n The time was later, and the family had moved out to the main room.\u00a0\u00a0A fire blazed, a small tree sparkled nearby, and paper lay strewn beneath chairs and feet.\u00a0\u00a0The children were scurrying about, showing off and playing with their new gifts, and the adults drank coffee and brandy while discussing politics and whittling and Christmases past.\u00a0\u00a0Doris moved busily among them all.\u00a0\u00a0She was steadier now, her step lighter as she bustled here and there to examine a toy, sniff her daughter\u2019s new satchet, exclaim over a handsome red shawl made by her daughter-in-law and inquire after the stitching.\u00a0\u00a0She was everywhere and into everything, so much more like the woman Hoss had known\u2014had bemoaned, in truth\u2014these past weeks that he relaxed, even knowing nothing had changed.<\/p>\n Inger, standing arm in arm with her son, surely felt it.\u00a0\u00a0She bent her head close, though the family could not hear their words.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWith so little time left, everything becomes precious.\u00a0\u00a0Every laugh, every experience, every chance to make a memory\u2014not for herself alone, but for her loved ones as well.\u00a0\u00a0She wishes to live as much as she may, and she wishes them to remember her for who she truly is\u2014not what she will be at the end.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, I \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Hoss felt tears rise and he struggled to hold them, although there was no one but his mother to see.\u00a0\u00a0It made sense now, so much more sense.\u00a0\u00a0All the underfoot he\u2019d put up with from Doris over these past weeks\u2014the times he\u2019d had to shoo her away while he moved furniture, the times he\u2019d gone to gather donations from his assigned list and found Doris had been there already, the times she\u2019d kept them all at the meetings far past their allotted time with her aimless chatter and stories.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYeah.\u00a0\u00a0She was gettin\u2019 her livin\u2019 in,\u201d he murmured, and Inger leaned her head against his broad shoulder.<\/p>\n The scene shifted again.\u00a0\u00a0Tom and Doris stood in the doorway, watching as their eldest disappeared with his family down the walk and into the night.\u00a0\u00a0Behind them, their two remaining children set about to tidy the room.\u00a0\u00a0When Doris moved to help, however, they laughed and sent her away.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ll be done in no time, Mama.\u00a0\u00a0Sit down.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her daughter\u2019s eyes were concerned even through the cheer.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s been a long day.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt has at that,\u201d she sighed.\u00a0\u00a0Doris started toward the settee, but her husband caught her, pulling her with him to his own chair before the fire and down into his lap.\u00a0\u00a0Their daughter, passing, dropped a knitted afghan upon them, and Doris laid her head upon her husband\u2019s shoulder as he draped it over them.\u00a0\u00a0There they sat, silent, gazing into the fire.\u00a0\u00a0After a time the tidying was done, and without discussion both children disappeared from the room.\u00a0\u00a0Doris\u2019s hand reached up to cradle Tom\u2019s face, and a single tear tracked down his cheek.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss turned abruptly away.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t watch this, Mama.\u00a0\u00a0It ain\u2019t \u2026 it ain\u2019t mine ta watch.\u201d<\/p>\n Inger smiled tenderly upon him, and took both of his hands in her own.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou see now, my son.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0It was not a question, nor was one necessary.\u00a0\u00a0Ben Cartwright\u2019s middle son was the most empathetic of men\u2014he could not help but see.<\/p>\n \u201cI \u2026 I guess ya never know, do ya Mama?\u00a0\u00a0What people have got inside \u2018em, what makes \u2018em do the things they do?\u00a0\u00a0I mean, some people make it obvious, sure, but some of \u2018em \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Inger agreed.\u00a0\u00a0Her eyes shone as they rested upon this large son of hers.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnd we never\u00a0will<\/i>\u00a0know, not all.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI guess \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The big man hung his head.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI been thinkin\u2019 all this time \u2018bout all that charity work I been doin\u2019, but I ain\u2019t been\u00a0actin\u2019<\/i>\u00a0very charitable, toward any of \u2018em.\u201d<\/p>\n She laughed softly.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThat, my son, is a trap into which we have all been known to fall.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I been grumpier than an ol\u2019 bear woke in the winter, and not just with them.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Hoss shook his head, casting his mind upon the past days.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI let it get ta me, and I been gettin\u2019 ta ever\u2019body else.\u201d<\/p>\n His mother\u2019s dimples flashed, and she reached to cup his cheek.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou are not alone.\u00a0\u00a0Your brothers have been adding their own portion,\u00a0ja?<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJa.<\/i>\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He chuckled wryly at that, covering her hand with his own.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cPoor Pa.\u00a0\u00a0He don\u2019t deserve any o\u2019 what we been givin\u2019 him lately.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour father loves you all.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Inger smiled.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cBut I do think Ben would perhaps like it more if his fine sons could manage to provide him some peace.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She patted him gently.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt is the season.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt is,\u201d Hoss agreed, and smiled shyly down upon her.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI\u2019ll remember, Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know you will, my son.\u201d<\/p>\n He looked back to the Parkers.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnd I\u2019ll remember \u2026 all the rest, too.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Standing with his lovely messenger on Christmas day, Hoss\u2019s heart swelled in gratitude for the message\u2014a gentle reminder that pain and joy, love and heartache lived behind every door and in every heart, in\u00a0his own city<\/b>\u00a0and beyond.\u00a0\u00a0His charity could not be offered only to some.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI\u2019ll remember, and I\u2019ll try.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Hoss\u2019s gap-toothed grin flashed then.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCain\u2019t always promise I\u2019ll be good at it, or do it right\u2014but I\u2019ll do my best.\u201d<\/p>\n Tears filled Inger\u2019s blue eyes, spilled upon her rosy cheeks.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYour best is more than enough, Eric.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She drew him down and pressed her kiss to one cheek, then the other.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI am\u00a0so<\/i>\u00a0proud.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss knew the moment for what it was, and that nothing would change it.\u00a0\u00a0In an instant, he gathered his mother in his arms, lifted her, twirled her about as though such a tall woman were but a child.\u00a0\u00a0Inger\u2019s merry laughter filled the air, dancing about them, and his tears mingled with her own.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss Cartwright planted a rough kiss upon his mother\u2019s cheek and then set her down, releasing her hand.<\/p>\n In the great room, the grandfather clock struck three.<\/p>\n To Be Continued on Day 13<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Link to the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 5 –\u00a0<\/span>Night of the Star<\/a>\u00a0by faust<\/span><\/p>\n Link to A Cartwright Christmas Carol – Part 3<\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>\n This story was written for the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 13<\/p>\n The the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid<\/strong>, A Cartwright Christmas Carol Stave 4<\/b><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b>The Last of the Spirits<\/b><\/p>\n \u201cMerry Christmas, my son.\u201d<\/p>\n Adam was convinced that time was indeed no longer moving at normal pace.\u00a0\u00a0Barely was his third (no one was there to stop him, after all) gingersnap consumed when the clock struck three mournful chimes, and so like the tolling of a funeral bell was the sound that he shivered in spite of his firm disbelief in premonition.\u00a0\u00a0The voice, light and nebulous as a memory, followed quickly upon it, however, and he had no time to ponder his unusual reaction to a sound he had been hearing for many years.<\/p>\n Slowly, he turned.<\/p>\n She stood near the dining table, looking upon him with such an affectionate joy that he would have known her for Elizabeth Stoddard Cartwright even had he not, from the miniature at his bedside, been familiar with her features.\u00a0\u00a0Yet in the flesh (was she? His logic for once utterly failed him) she was so much more than the likeness which was all Adam knew.\u00a0\u00a0Young she was\u2014so young\u2014and Ben Cartwright\u2019s eldest son was struck for a moment by the absurd realization that his mother was in fact younger than he.\u00a0\u00a0Her eyes were light, her hair was long and brown and hung loose about her shoulders, a dark splash against her red and ivory gown.\u00a0\u00a0High cheekbones stretched in a wide smile.<\/p>\n A mischievous smile.\u00a0\u00a0He had somehow \u2026 never thought of her as such.<\/p>\n Adam shook his head, aware suddenly of his stare.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMother.\u00a0\u00a0I \u2026 ah, Merry Christmas, Mother.\u201d<\/p>\n Elizabeth\u2019s laughter was the playful giggle of a girl.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOh, my Adam.\u00a0\u00a0So serious.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her mirth quieted, though her joy did not dim.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSo tall and strong, and so serious.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0For a moment they stood drinking each other in, Adam and this mother he had never known.\u00a0\u00a0Then her smile flashed again, and her laughter rippled around him.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhich is fine, my son, very fine \u2026 but do remember to look for an elephant in the clouds every now and again?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam was uncertain what to make of this enjoinder, and she gave him no time to ponder.\u00a0\u00a0Instead, Elizabeth held out her hand, eyes dancing.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCome along, my Adam.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He hesitated, rational mind stilling his hands and step where his brothers had not faltered.\u00a0\u00a0Surely this was all a dream \u2026\u00a0\u00a0Yet if it was, what was the harm?\u00a0\u00a0What did he fear?\u00a0\u00a0As if his mother had heard this silent query she stretched forth her hand once more, urging him forward.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCome,\u00a0don\u2019t be afraid<\/b>.\u00a0\u00a0What you will see this night is meant only for your good, and I will be with you.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0A longing entered her eyes.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI do so wish to have this time with you, difficult though it may be.\u201d<\/p>\n Difficult?\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat do you mean by that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCome and see.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0When he yet hesitated, she sighed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYour mind is a wonderful thing, my Adam, but tonight of all nights, let your heart lead.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou sound like Little Joe,\u201d Adam muttered, and slid his fingers into hers.\u00a0\u00a0They were cool and slender and very real.\u00a0\u00a0Elizabeth Cartwright\u2019s laughter followed alongside as the great room melted away, to be replaced by another view of the same.\u00a0\u00a0From this little-trodden corner behind the stairs, differences came quickly to his eye\u2014new wear in the old red and white Indian blanket, a scratch across the flooring with which he was unfamiliar, the four (four?) small frames that graced his father\u2019s desk.\u00a0\u00a0Another shelf of books on the wall in the alcove.\u00a0\u00a0A taller Christmas tree than they usually brought home, and holly hung about the room in a configuration he had never seen.<\/p>\n \u201cIs that so terrible?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n For a moment, distracted as he was, Adam couldn\u2019t remember the topic.\u00a0\u00a0When he did, he only shook his head.\u00a0\u00a0He\u2019d had enough of his youngest brother lately as it was\u2014he had little intention of spending this time with his mother talking about Joe.\u00a0\u00a0Before he could inquire after the alterations in his home, however, Ben Cartwright himself appeared at the top of the stairs.\u00a0\u00a0If the changes in the house had intrigued him, those in his Pa startled him.\u00a0\u00a0Perhaps even unsettled him.\u00a0\u00a0Ben was thinner, his hair whiter, the lines in his face deeper.\u00a0\u00a0He was not old\u2014but he was certainly older than Adam knew him.\u00a0\u00a0Ben descended slowly, most of his attention taken up with a well-worn letter.\u00a0\u00a0He crossed to his desk as he read and sank into his chair, eyes focused still upon the paper.\u00a0\u00a0One hand fumbled as if by rote to grip the fourth, unknown frame.\u00a0\u00a0After a long moment, Ben laid the letter upon his desk.\u00a0\u00a0He picked up the picture, eyed it for a long moment, then replaced it with a sigh.<\/p>\n \u201cWho\u2014\u201d Adam began, but fell silent when the door slammed open.\u00a0\u00a0The newcomer was Hoss, running full out with arms wrapped about his head.<\/p>\n \u201cLittle Joe, you just watch yourself!\u00a0\u00a0If you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n The threat broke into a high-pitched yelp as a snowball sailed through the open doorway, hitting squarely the bare skin between Hoss\u2019s hair and his collar.\u00a0\u00a0Ben rose, frowning, as his youngest followed the missile into the room, clearly intent on perpetrating further mischief.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cJoseph!\u201d<\/p>\n In that briefest of moments, Adam\u2019s eyes froze upon his youngest brother.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss had not seemed so different\u2014he had gained weight, perhaps, but nothing too noticeable.\u00a0\u00a0Joe, however \u2026\u00a0\u00a0Joe was indefinably, undeniably matured.\u00a0\u00a0His body was lean and hard, the softness of youth gone from his face and carriage.\u00a0\u00a0His hair was longer than Ben had ever allowed it, and shot through with gray.\u00a0\u00a0Gray?\u00a0\u00a0A glance assured him that his little brother was not yet so old as all that\u2014he was, apparently, graying early.\u00a0\u00a0Adam might have snickered at the thought of Joe\u2019s dismay, but his feelings regarding his own receding hairline kept that unworthy impulse in check.<\/p>\n Despite all those signs of aging, however, Joe still apparently didn\u2019t know when to quit\u2014rather than halt his forward movement, he simply swerved and sent the next snowball in a new direction.<\/p>\n It hit Ben full on the chest, breaking apart and tumbling to land in melting pieces upon the floor and the desk and the letter.\u00a0\u00a0Joe\u2019s cackle bounced from the walls and the high ceiling even as he ducked behind Hoss, who had halted his flight to stare wide-eyed at the wet spot upon their father\u2019s chest.\u00a0\u00a0Eyes as green as ever peered from behind the broad back.\u00a0\u00a0Ben stared after his youngest, jaw tight \u2026 but even so, Adam saw the hint of mirth in their father\u2019s dark eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cHow does he\u00a0do<\/i>\u00a0that?\u201d Adam demanded as Ben retrieved the letter, shook it dry, and stepped from behind the desk.<\/p>\n \u201cDo what, my dear?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Elizabeth\u2019s voice was tight with suppressed laughter.\u00a0\u00a0He would, apparently, get no sympathetic ear from his companion.<\/p>\n This vaguely surprised him about her, though Adam could not say why.<\/p>\n \u201cJoseph,\u201d Ben Cartwright scowled.\u00a0\u00a0The tone was gruff, but even so Adam knew that particular tilt of the brow.\u00a0\u00a0Their father was not remotely put out by his youngest son\u2019s antics.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cPerhaps next time you might consider\u2014just\u00a0consider<\/i>, mind you\u2014keeping the out of doors \u2026 well, out of doors.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe and Hoss exchanged a twinkling glance, and then Joe laughed again.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss\u2019s loud guffaw joined him.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSure, Pa.\u00a0\u00a0Next time.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Ben shook his head and strolled toward the stairs, waiting until his back was turned before allowing any hint of amusement upon his features.<\/p>\n \u201cThat!\u201d Adam threw exasperated hands into the air, nearly pulling away from his mother.\u00a0\u00a0Elizabeth gripped his fingers, drawing him gently back to her.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe gets away with the most ridiculous things!\u00a0\u00a0Do you know what would have happened if I had thrown a snowball inside the house?\u201d<\/p>\n Eyes settled upon him, an unsettling pale blue combination of amusement and solemnity.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWould you have ever done that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course not!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid you ever wish to?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam frowned, scrambling within himself for a reply.\u00a0\u00a0What was the point\u2014of either snow in the house, or of this question?\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhy would I want to drag snow inside?\u00a0\u00a0It just makes things cold and wet, and then you have to clean it up again.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Joe\u2019s leisure activities had always been more rambunctious than Adam\u2019s\u2014a source of both irritation and bafflement to his eldest brother.\u00a0\u00a0It was, quite frankly, a disparity which had long been a matter of contention between the two, for it seemed that whenever Adam most desired a few moments of peace, Joe was most likely to have other ideas entirely.<\/p>\n \u201cIt is not your way.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His mother sighed, squeezing hand.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAs your ways are not his.\u201d<\/p>\n The change in his brothers\u2019 tones drew him back to their conversation, and Adam saw that the laughter had gone from them.<\/p>\n \u201cI wish he\u2019d send a new one.\u00a0\u00a0It\u2019s been almost five months.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u00a0\u00a0But he won\u2019t forget\u2014he don\u2019t never just forget completely.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I wish he\u2019d just remember a little more often, then.\u00a0\u00a0Pa\u2019s reread that last one so many times it\u2019s about to come apart.\u00a0\u00a0It\u2019s Christmas, ain\u2019t it?\u00a0\u00a0You\u2019d think that\u2019d count for something.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNow Joe, that ain\u2019t fair.\u00a0\u00a0You know\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, I know.\u00a0\u00a0He\u00a0tries<\/i>.\u00a0\u00a0Well, seems like he could maybe try a little harder.\u201d<\/p>\n The fragmented discussion was difficult to untangle without any manner of context.\u00a0\u00a0Adam was distracted from even the attempt when Elizabeth\u2019s hand tightened upon his own, drawing his attention back to her.<\/p>\n \u201cIt is his way,\u201d she whispered, \u201cjust as solitude and contemplation are yours \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n The room fell from around them, and they stood upon a bleak, cold hilltop overlooking the expanse of Lake Tahoe below.\u00a0\u00a0Adam knew the spot well, and he sought automatically for Marie Cartwright\u2019s grave even as he took Elizabeth\u2019s hand within both of his own.\u00a0\u00a0The shock of finding not one but two markers upon the hill drew him forward, but his feet stilled after only a few steps.\u00a0\u00a0Ben Cartwright stood between the graves, one hand resting upon each stone as though he might buckle without their solid bulk to support him.<\/p>\n \u201cWho \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n His father was not speaking, was not\u00a0doing<\/i>\u00a0anything.\u00a0\u00a0He simply stood, bent as though beneath a great weight.\u00a0\u00a0Feeling oddly frantic\u2014a sensation which Ben Cartwright\u2019s eldest had never been known to enjoy\u2014Adam gripped his mother\u2019s fingers, eyes raking the nearby scenery.\u00a0\u00a0Immediately his gaze fell upon Joe.\u00a0\u00a0His youngest brother stood some distance away, gazing not toward the graves but out across the expanse of blue Tahoe.\u00a0\u00a0A slim young woman with dark hair and eyes leaned into him, tucked beneath his arm.\u00a0\u00a0His curiosity piqued, even in the midst of that which he knew (without understanding\u00a0how<\/i>\u00a0he knew) to be a terrible revelation, Adam drifted closer.\u00a0\u00a0Elizabeth glided silently at his side, and he saw that for once, her merry eyes were somber.<\/p>\n \u201cWho \u2026 died?\u201d<\/p>\n At last he managed the words, but his mother only clasped his hand to her heart.\u00a0\u00a0It was not a comforting response.\u00a0\u00a0Reaching Joe and the woman at last, Adam cut a wide circle around.\u00a0\u00a0He accepted that he and Elizabeth could not be seen\u2014certainly no one had reacted in any way to their appearance upon the hillside.\u00a0\u00a0Still, his mind insisted that some manner of caution was required, and Adam was finding it difficult to convince himself otherwise.<\/p>\n Such worries vanished upon sight of his brother\u2019s face.<\/p>\n He had never seen Joe stand so very still, nor those lively eyes so very bleak.\u00a0\u00a0Adam\u2019s youngest brother had lived through his share of disappointment and tragedy\u2014they all had done so\u2014but never before had Adam seen Joe like this \u2026<\/p>\n A terrible certainty welled within him, and Adam cast his gaze once more across the hillside.\u00a0\u00a0Not finding what (who<\/i>) he sought\u2014that large, comforting presence\u2014he turned upon his mother.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019s Hoss?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Elizabeth sighed, and his heart seized within him.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMother,\u00a0who died?<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n Her grip upon him tightened.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAdam \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd where am\u00a0I<\/i>\u00a0in all of this?<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n No answer was forthcoming.\u00a0\u00a0Rather, the world shifted yet again.\u00a0\u00a0Another grassy field, though not the same one.\u00a0\u00a0Another grave, marked by a white cross.\u00a0\u00a0This time, Joe knelt beside the grave\u2014collapsed, more truly\u2014while Ben hovered in the background.<\/p>\n No dark haired, dark eyed woman.<\/p>\n Oh, Joe \u2026<\/i><\/p>\n His father looked \u2026 old.\u00a0\u00a0Terribly old.\u00a0\u00a0Lined, and worn.<\/p>\n And Joe \u2026<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s gone completely gray,\u201d Adam murmured.\u00a0\u00a0For whom he intended those words\u2014his mother, himself, anyone at all\u2014he could not say.\u00a0\u00a0What Adam Cartwright did know was a sense of odd, dreadful vertigo as he peered upon the image of his youngest brother and found nothing familiar\u2014nothing of humor or fire or even\u00a0life<\/i>\u00a0within the man at his feet.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cJoe \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n There was, in fact, little within those dull green eyes but pain.<\/p>\n This time, Adam was able to make out the words upon the marker.\u00a0\u00a0They leaped out at him\u2014scorched into him\u2014and he wished at once, desperately, for some way to\u00a0un<\/i>-see them.<\/p>\n Alice Cartwright and Unborn Child.<\/i><\/p>\n \u201cOh, Joe \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Elizabeth\u2019s hand tightened once more upon his.\u00a0\u00a0The scene shifted.<\/p>\n He and his mother stood within a barn\u2014their<\/i>\u00a0barn.\u00a0\u00a0The familiar scents of hay and horses and leather offered a comforting normality after the chilled bleakness of the open, wind-swept gravesides.\u00a0\u00a0Two men he didn\u2019t know (new hands, he supposed) forked hay and poured water for Buck, Cochise, and a couple of unfamiliar horses.<\/p>\n No Sport, no Chubby.\u00a0\u00a0The leaden weight in his gut grew.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe was tellin\u2019 me about the parties they used ta have at Christmas,\u201d the younger of the two, a slight young man with red hair, was saying to the other.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cFor the orphanage fund.\u00a0\u00a0Half the town would come, and Hop Sing would cook for days, and they\u2019d get a tree that went up almost to the ceiling. Bet that was somethin\u2019 ta see.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He grinned, patting Buck.\u00a0\u00a0The buckskin (Buck had grown\u00a0old<\/i>) nuzzled at his pocket, and the redhead laughed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSorry, boy.\u00a0\u00a0Maybe Pa\u2019ll bring you somethin\u2019 tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n Pa?\u00a0\u00a0There was no time to wonder, though, and still follow the conversation.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The other, square-jawed with a wide (if enigmatic) smile, shook his head.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI was here for the last few\u2014they mighta had one more after I left, I think.\u00a0\u00a0They were quite the shindigs.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA shame we don\u2019t do it anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNobody\u2019s up to it.\u00a0\u00a0You know that.\u201d<\/p>\n The younger man (still almost a boy, really) sighed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYeah.\u00a0\u00a0Ya know, I been real worried about Hop Sing, Candy.\u00a0\u00a0He ain\u2019t movin\u2019 around so good\u2014I think that knee\u2019s givin\u2019 him trouble again\u2014but he won\u2019t admit it or slow down.\u00a0\u00a0He just keeps cookin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n The other (what kind of a name was Candy?) shrugged.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s hard for a man to admit he\u2019s gettin\u2019 old, especially somebody like Hop Sing, who\u2019s used ta bein\u2019 always on the go.\u00a0\u00a0Anyway, I\u2019m thinking he\u2019s just after the same thing we are\u2014keep everybody\u2019s minds occupied and on\u00a0this<\/i>\u00a0Christmas.\u00a0\u00a0You know how Mr. Cartwright and Joe both tend ta \u2026 drift back around this time of the year if there ain\u2019t anything keeping them in the here and now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The red-haired man was still for a moment, stroking Buck\u2019s dark mane, then blurted, \u201cDo you think Adam\u2019ll\u00a0ever<\/i>come back?\u201d<\/p>\n The sound of his name from this stranger\u2019s lips startled Adam \u2026 and the question, with its many implications, both confused and disturbed him.\u00a0\u00a0He had never kept it any secret from his family that he often considered taking leave of the Ponderosa for a time, to stretch his wings and see the world.\u00a0\u00a0It was expected, in fact, if not entirely anticipated by the remainder of the Cartwright men.\u00a0\u00a0The intention was not, though\u2014had\u00a0never<\/i>\u00a0been\u2014to go for good.<\/p>\n What he was hearing now suggested quite otherwise.<\/p>\n He could not accept that.<\/p>\n \u201cNaw.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Candy\u2019s voice was solid, confident, and a wave of offense washed over Adam.\u00a0\u00a0This cowhand didn\u2019t even\u00a0know<\/i>him, how could the man make such claims?\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnd Mr. Cartwright doesn\u2019t expect him to, not really.\u00a0\u00a0Joe definitely doesn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut they put out a place for him at Christmas every year.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s more wishful thinking than anything else.\u00a0\u00a0Jamie, no one\u2019s even heard from him for at least five years, no one expects him to just walk through the\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFive years?\u201d<\/i>\u00a0\u00a0Anger flared in his breast, and Adam turned upon his mother.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNo.\u00a0\u00a0Whatever this is, whatever you\u2019re trying to prove, I don\u2019t believe it.\u00a0\u00a0I\u2019m not so cruel.\u00a0\u00a0I wouldn\u2019t just leave Pa wondering for all that time.\u00a0\u00a0And I wouldn\u2019t stay away, especially not with everything\u00a0else<\/i>\u00a0going on.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her blue eyes were steady, revealing nothing.\u00a0\u00a0He ground his teeth in frustration.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThey\u2019re my\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, my Adam.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Elizabeth rested her head gently upon him, her voice a whisper.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe world was all before them, where to choose their place of rest, and Providence their guide \u2026<\/i>\u201d^<\/p>\n Adam recognized the words\u2014of course he did, the book had been upon his shelf (as it were) since before his memory began\u2014but he could not accept their meaning.\u00a0\u00a0Not now, not for him.<\/p>\n \u201cMother \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow quickly our good intentions fade, when our dreams lie within reach.\u201d<\/p>\n So \u2026 what?\u00a0\u00a0I abandoned them?<\/i><\/p>\n No \u2026\u00a0\u00a0A bitter taste rose in his mouth, and the barn did a slow, drunken spin.\u00a0\u00a0They drove him nearly insane much of the time, but they were his\u00a0family<\/i>.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam could barely form the words, or frame his protest in a way that made sense even to him.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThis hasn\u2019t\u00a0happened<\/i>\u00a0yet though, right?\u00a0\u00a0So it doesn\u2019t\u00a0have<\/i>\u00a0to happen at all.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His mother\u2019s eyes merely rested upon him, light and silent.\u00a0\u00a0Anger rose again, and determination.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI have a choice!\u00a0\u00a0Why would you be showing me this if I didn\u2019t?\u00a0\u00a0I don\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou two about done in here?\u201d<\/p>\n It was Joe\u2019s voice, but not entirely\u2014not the voice Adam knew.\u00a0\u00a0He looked around, and beheld his brother grinning in the barn doorway.\u00a0\u00a0No, not grinning.\u00a0\u00a0Joe was smiling, but it was a faint, distant sort of smile which matched his solemn eyes and carefully held posture.\u00a0\u00a0Nothing remained of the reckless grin of old\u2014Joe\u2019s entire being was subdued.\u00a0\u00a0Adam looked upon the worn and weary face, and suddenly, fiercely ached to see that Joseph Francis Cartwright who had always driven him to the brink of homicide more quickly than aught else in the world.<\/p>\n Elizabeth\u2019s fingers tightened upon his, and the scene shifted.<\/p>\n They returned to the site of Marie Cartwright\u2019s grave, and (unless he was entirely mistaken) Hoss Cartwright\u2019s \u2026 and now another.\u00a0\u00a0Drifts of snow heaped upon the frozen earth, yet Joe sank onto his knees without appearing either to notice or care.\u00a0\u00a0The two men from the barn hovered nearby, exchanging anxious glances.\u00a0\u00a0After a time, the red-haired man (he was a man now, though still quite young, and Adam wondered absently how long had passed) moved forward to place a hand upon Joe\u2019s shoulder.\u00a0\u00a0Adam\u2019s brother remained utterly still, kneeling among the graves, and this time Adam was close enough to read the words \u2026<\/p>\n Marie Cartwright<\/i><\/p>\n Eric \u201cHoss\u201d Cartwright<\/i><\/p>\n Benjamin Cartwright<\/i><\/p>\n \u201cNo!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam spun and strode away, fighting the grief and horror of the scene.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI\u2019m done!\u00a0\u00a0I don\u2019t want to see any more.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy not?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His mother\u2019s voice was light and curious as ever.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDo you believe that if you do not see, these things will not occur?\u00a0\u00a0That is the way of a child, my son.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWill<\/i>\u00a0they happen?\u201d Adam demanded, rounding to face her\u2014and careful to keep both his brother and the awful graves at his back.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIs it certain?\u00a0\u00a0Answer me that one question, Mother.\u00a0\u00a0Are these \u2026 these\u00a0visions<\/i>\u00a0set in stone?\u00a0\u00a0Or can I change them?\u00a0\u00a0Why show me this, if there\u2019s no hope of that?\u201d<\/p>\n Elizabeth\u2019s head tilted, her eyes bored into his.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou cannot control the world, my Adam.\u00a0\u00a0Even your little piece of it, your family and home, is in so many ways beyond you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI understand that, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo<\/i>\u00a0you understand?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His mother\u2019s fingers rose to touch his cheek, and though her words seemed harsh a great love shone forth from her eyes.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHave you ever?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI \u2026 yes, of course.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam looked away, startling them both with bitter laughter\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOf\u00a0course<\/i>\u00a0I understand.\u00a0\u00a0How could I not, Mother?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The hurt within those words took him by surprise\u2014long had he thought it safely buried.\u00a0\u00a0Elizabeth drew him to her and laid a kiss upon his brow.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd yet you so desperately try \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow can I\u00a0not<\/i>\u00a0\u2026 ?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam looked back then upon the image of his young brother\u2014young no longer, pale and alone and bent beneath a weight of sorrow.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI love them, even though I\u2019m not always\u00a0good at remembering it.\u00a0\u00a0How can I see\u00a0this<\/i>, then, and not want the chance to change it?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He seized her hands in both of his, peering down into her eyes.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cEven if I can\u2019t do anything to change this but make sure Joe doesn\u2019t face it all alone, that it doesn\u2019t wear him down into \u2026\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He drew their joined hands to his heart.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMother, how can I not\u00a0beg<\/i>\u00a0for that chance?\u201d<\/p>\n Elizabeth\u2019s teeth flashed then, and her cheek dimpled.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHow, indeed?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She laid her head upon their entwined hands, and Adam held his mother close.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOh, my Adam.\u00a0\u00a0I am so proud of you.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her whisper was soft, barely reaching his ears, yet it pierced his mind and soul.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThere is always hope, my son.\u201d<\/p>\n A single tear wet her hair.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThank you, Mother.\u201d<\/p>\n She giggled then, her gaze moving past him.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOh Adam!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She raised her head.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThat cloud looks like an elephant!\u201d<\/p>\n Turning to follow Elizabeth\u2019s glance, Adam Cartwright released his mother\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n ^Paradise Lost<\/em>, Milton<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Stave 5<\/b><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b>The End of It<\/b><\/p>\n Bright morning woke them, sprawled upon their beds, and the sons of Ben Cartwright arose to Christmas day.\u00a0\u00a0Sun glinted from snow new-fallen upon yard and barn, and the smell of coffee and cinnamon rose from the kitchen below.\u00a0\u00a0They brushed sleep away, startled to find themselves thus when their last memories were of a beloved face in a distant place.\u00a0\u00a0Remembering then, they rose upon the instant, piling into the hallway without stopping for robe or slippers, and stood blinking upon each other in the light of day.\u00a0\u00a0The briefest of moments passed, in which each saw in his brothers\u2019 eyes an echo of his own recent understanding, and it was as if a great weight rose from them, leaving a happy giddiness in its wake.<\/p>\n \u201cMerry Christmas!\u201d Hoss boomed, and Little Joe jumped upon his brother\u2019s back while Hoss slung an arm about his elder brother\u2019s shoulders.\u00a0\u00a0Memories and lessons of the night still fresh, Adam welcomed the contact as he would not normally do.\u00a0\u00a0Reaching across their middle brother, he stretched out a hand of reconciliation and peace to the youngest, to find Joe offering the same from his lofty perch.\u00a0\u00a0They clasped hands then with a new vigor, each resolving within himself that although they would ever be opposites, still they would find some way to keep the bonds of brotherhood strong.<\/p>\n Thus did their father find them, drawn from his own restless sleep by the commotion outside his bedroom door.\u00a0\u00a0Ben stared in wonder to find his sons so changed, and the brothers hailed their pa eagerly.\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe abandoned his brothers to embrace him, and this example of the youngest was followed by Hoss and even Adam.\u00a0\u00a0Ben received the affection gladly, and if his \u201cMerry Christmas, boys,\u201d held a hint of grateful tears, this reminder of their recent transgressions was no more than they felt they deserved.<\/p>\n They piled all down the stairs, to be met by Hop Sing with a tray of coffee.\u00a0\u00a0Their dear friend, too, was much taken aback by the night\u2019s work, but his countenance lifted and step lightened at the sound and sight of the joyous family.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou sit!\u201d he cried, \u201cand I be back with cookies!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCookies?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Ben lifted a brow at his sons as they scattered about the room, pouring the coffee and passing it around in the fine red china which Marie Cartwright had loved.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThat\u2019s not Hop Sing\u2019s usual Christmas morning fare.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI find in kitchen this morning,\u201d Hop Sing said, bustling back.\u00a0\u00a0In his arms he held a large basket full to overflowing with deep brown cookies shaped as men and women and hearts.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cVery good, very fresh.\u00a0\u00a0One of you put it there?\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe, not having been present for Inger\u2019s visit, could not speak to the mystery.\u00a0\u00a0His brothers had no desire to do so, nor any way to explain even if they did.\u00a0\u00a0Instead, they exchanged an unseen glance before availing themselves of the spicy treat, and it was sweeter for its secret source.\u00a0\u00a0Ben took up one of the little men and gazed upon it, eyes distant with memory.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHoss, your mother used to bake cookies like these \u2026 dozens of them for Christmas.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He bit into it slowly, closing his eyes.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI wonder where they came from?\u00a0\u00a0Were there any guests out yesterday?\u201d<\/p>\n No answer was, of course, forthcoming.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss, biting the head off his third gingersnap, distracted their father from the puzzle.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cPa, I was thinkin\u2019.\u00a0\u00a0What if I ride out later on and invite ol\u2019 Jim Cobbin ta Christmas dinner?\u00a0\u00a0\u2018F I remember right, John and Carol are pretty busy with their families, and I don\u2019t know but he won\u2019t be out there alone all day.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, Hoss.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Ben\u2019s dark brow rose.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThat\u2019s mighty thoughtful, and I\u2019d be happy to have him.\u00a0\u00a0It\u2019s been a while since I\u2019ve seen Jim.\u00a0\u00a0But, I thought you and he were \u2026 not getting along?\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss shook his head.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNaw, that was no big deal.\u00a0\u00a0And it\u2019s Christmas, ain\u2019t it?\u00a0\u00a0Ain\u2019t right for a man to be alone on Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell then, you go right ahead and do that.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Their father nodded.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s a good idea, I wish I\u2019d thought of it myself.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing!\u201d he called, and the little Cantonese appeared in the kitchen doorway.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWe may have one more for dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOne more,\u201d grumbled their cook, throwing his hands into the air.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOne more, always adding one more.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His mutterings were lighter than usual, however, and no threats of returning to China could be heard as Hop Sing shuffled back into his domain.<\/p>\n Adam, meanwhile, had risen and crossed to the large main door.\u00a0\u00a0He studied it for a long moment, remembering him who had come to them through it upon the stroke of midnight, then opened it and gazed out upon a world white and fresh.<\/p>\n It was a new day\u2014a new beginning, of sorts\u2014and it was Christmas.<\/p>\n \u201cHey Joe!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0His youngest brother looked up, and Adam motioned him over.\u00a0\u00a0Joe set down his coffee and cookie (his sixth, perhaps) and joined his elder brother at the door.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cLook at that.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam motioned with his chin.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThat cloud looks like an elephant.\u201d<\/p>\n Focused upon Little Joe, Adam missed the startled look his father cast his way.\u00a0\u00a0He did not miss, however, the gap between nightshirt and neck as Joe offered a bemused smile and leaned out past him.\u00a0\u00a0The snowball dropped neatly between.\u00a0\u00a0The resulting shriek was enough to startle their father into spilling his coffee and draw a scolding Hop Sing once again from the kitchen.\u00a0\u00a0For an instant Little Joe\u2019s mouth gaped wide as he stared upon his brother, and then his cackle echoed from the walls.\u00a0\u00a0Dropping his own pre-breakfast treats, Hoss dove across the room to join the impromptu war, narrowly missing snowballs from both Adam and Joe as he barreled past them seeking ammunition.<\/p>\n Ben Cartwright gazed upon his sons in baffled wonder, delighting in their laughter and reveling in their obvious, abundant joy.\u00a0\u00a0What had become of those sullen men of the previous night he could not say, and he did not wish to dwell upon it.\u00a0\u00a0Whatever had happened, whatever miracle had occurred, it had been an answer to his prayers.<\/p>\n \u201cGod bless us all,\u201d he whispered, and his heart was full.<\/p>\n (fin)<\/em><\/p>\n Joyeux No\u00ebl,<\/i><\/strong><\/p>\n God Jul,<\/i><\/strong><\/p>\n and\u00a0Merry\u00a0Christmas\u00a0to all!<\/i><\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Link to the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 5 –\u00a0<\/span>Night of the Star<\/a>\u00a0by faust<\/span> (for those who had to finish reading this story in one setting.)<\/p>\n Link to the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 14 –\u00a0<\/span>A Lesson in Miracles<\/a> by Foreverfree<\/span> (for those who are reading the collection day by day.)<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Tags:\u00a0 Adam Cartwright,\u00a0Ben Cartwright,\u00a0ghost,\u00a0Hoss Cartwright,\u00a0Joe \/ Little Joe Cartwright<\/p>\n
\n~~by PSW<\/strong><\/p>\n
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\n~~by PSW<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nfor behold,<\/em>I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people.”<\/em><\/p>\n
\n~~by PSW<\/strong><\/p>\n
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