{"id":15666,"date":"2017-10-30T01:12:44","date_gmt":"2017-10-30T05:12:44","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=15666"},"modified":"2025-09-25T15:41:02","modified_gmt":"2025-09-25T19:41:02","slug":"reflections-by-hart4ben","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=15666","title":{"rendered":"Reflections (by Hart4Ben)"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Summary<\/strong>:\u00a0 A series of episode based reflections and life lessons by the Cartwrights.<\/p>\n<p>Rating: T\u00a0 Word Count: 5923<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Reflections<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">The Price of a Dream<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Hoss&#8217; thoughts following A Dream to Dream<\/p>\n<p>I know it ain&#8217;t right ta want what belongs ta another man, but gosh almighty why&#8217;s it gotta hurt so dad-blame bad ta do the right thing. Part a me wishes I never heard the name Josh Carter. Best horses you&#8217;ll ever see, that man in the bar said. Look what that done got me inta. Jest got me wantin&#8217; somethin&#8217; I ain&#8217;t got &#8211; somethin&#8217; I&#8217;ve been wantin&#8217; fur a real long time. Pa always said havin&#8217; a big heart is a good thing. Really don&#8217;t feel so good right now.<\/p>\n<p>Timmy and Sally, God love &#8217;em, sweetest young&#8217;uns there ever was. Love their Pa even when he ain&#8217;t been lovin&#8217; &#8217;em back fur an awful long time. And Sarah &#8211; Sarah she&#8217;s got so much love in her heart &#8211; still loves her man when he&#8217;s been givin&#8217; her nothin&#8217;. What she put up with for years &#8211; most women woulda given up long ago. Carter damn near lost her &#8211; fool man. There&#8217;s more to lovin&#8217; a woman than jest puttin&#8217; a roof over her head, food on her table, an&#8217; clothes on her back.. She&#8217;s been grievin&#8217; too, an&#8217; he jest don&#8217;t see it. Losin&#8217; yur Ma is hard, but losin&#8217; a son &#8211; that&#8217;s gotta be &#8216;specially hard when yur thinkin&#8217; it was all yur fault he died. Well, guess I kin kinda understand some a his actions, but he let it go too far. Real love cain&#8217;t let others suffer like that cuz yur feelin&#8217; sorry fur yurself. Mebbe, jest mebbe, I knocked some sense inta his fool head &#8211; God I hope so &#8211; told Sarah so. Sometimes lovin&#8217; somebody means ya jest gotta walk away. Don&#8217;t seem right when yur heart&#8217;s achin&#8217;, but ya jest gotta do it. It ain&#8217;t easy &#8211; Lord &#8211; no &#8211; it ain&#8217;t easy.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr size=\"1\" \/>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Lessons from Su Ling<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Through the eyes of Ben<\/p>\n<p>What seemed to be the fickle randomness of our world brought you into our lives, and yet I believe that Providence smiled down on us on the day you arrived at our door. You filled our home with grace and beauty. The haunting melody you sang so sweetly for us still plays in my mind. God only knows the suffering you have endured in your young life. Despite your youth, you humbly shared your pearls of wisdom with us during your brief stay. Truths like: there is comfort and security in boundaries, joy and fulfillment in the simplest of tasks, and contentment in a life of humble service to others. Though you did not always say them in words, your life spoke volumes! You demonstrated that gratitude is the pathway to enriching the lives of others.<\/p>\n<p>You have seared our hearts with your tenderness. God forbid that we should become calloused by the harsh realities of this life and lose the warmth that you have generously shared with us. You thanked us for what we gave you, but it pales in comparison to all you have given. Our family is greatly indebted to you for the rich lessons you have taught us during your quiet, humble time here at the Ponderosa. Thank you, Su Ling.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr size=\"1\" \/>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">The Cost of Friendship<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Ben&#8217;s reflections following the death of Jimmy Partridge in &#8220;The Guilty&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Doubt can leave you paralyzed, forever wondering if something more could have been done. I know my sons were just trying to help relieve my guilt, but it wasn&#8217;t enough. It wasn&#8217;t indisputable. Having to face Lem &#8211; to have to live with the possibility that I could have done something &#8211; anything &#8211; that could have kept Jimmy from being killed that day &#8211; was a burden so great that I would have done almost anything to be rid of it.<\/p>\n<p>Bitterness, hatred, and guilt are relentless taskmasters. They can drive even the most rational, law-abiding man to acts of violence &#8211; even a man you call your friend. When grief piles up on a man, his thinking can get blurred. He looks for someone to blame and lashes out in retribution. Thankfully, when confronted with the truth, Lem&#8217;s anger and grief did not prevent him from being able to distinguish good from evil. In the end, that truth freed both of us. I can&#8217;t hold your actions against you. I&#8217;m thankful we can still call each other &#8220;friend.&#8221; For we are all guilty, Lem &#8211; guilty of being fallible human beings.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr size=\"1\" \/>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Duke-ing It Out<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Hoss&#8217; reflections following The Duke<\/p>\n<p>Don&#8217;t know what it is &#8217;bout bein&#8217; a man that makes ya itch fur a fight every now and again. It&#8217;s like ya cain&#8217;t hep yurself. Then again, there&#8217;s nothin&#8217; that gets my dander up like a body that hurts people outta jest plain ordinary meanness. First it was J.D. &#8211; then Marge &#8211; and then Limey. I jest had ta do it. Jest had ta smack him with my hat an&#8217; challenge the Duke ta a fight &#8211; but then he stood there lookin&#8217; at me like some damn cat looks atta mouse. Well I shur ain&#8217;t no mouse &#8211; I&#8217;d say more like a bear. Gosh almighty, fur a fancy lookin&#8217; dude, that man kin hit. My face is still hurtin&#8217;. Guess I got lucky and landed a coupla good&#8217;ens. Then it was all she wrote. Know I worried Pa &#8217;bout half sick. Funny thing &#8211; when it was over, I kinda felt bad fur the Duke cuz he had nobody backin&#8217; him in his corner. Shur glad Limey changed his mind an&#8217; came back ta hep him. That&#8217;s what brothers is s&#8217;posed ta do &#8211; hep one another &#8211; jest like Joe did fur me. The Duke and The Benecia Boy &#8211; that &#8216;ill be some whale of a fight! And Joe, ya kin jest get that crazy notion outta yur head! There ain&#8217;t no way in hell I&#8217;m gonna fight that fella from St. Louie! I&#8217;m plumb fought out fur a good long time!<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<hr size=\"1\" \/>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Merciless Guilt<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Joe&#8217;s reflections following The Quality of Mercy<\/p>\n<p>My gut said no, but my head wanted it to be true &#8211; wanted it to make sense. Seth wouldn&#8217;t tell me a lie, and I definitely didn&#8217;t want to cause Sarah any more pain. But that seed of doubt kept getting bigger and more bothersome. The more I tried to push it out of my mind, the more it became like trying to stand in quicksand. I wanted to think that Seth had no choice. I wanted Sarah and him to be happy. I know the horrible ache of losing someone you love. You do everything in your power to avoid making it worse. Watching Sarah suffer was so hard. We were friends, the three of us, Sarah, Seth, and me. We had a history, a good past. There was trust. But then Pa and Adam only made it worse, adding to my guilt, because I didn&#8217;t want to hear the truth. Now looking back, I should have trusted my instincts. Greed can do terrible things to a man&#8217;s mind. It can make a man ponder, even commit, all kinds of evil. Can&#8217;t ever let this happen again. It piled hurt upon hurt, pain on pain, tearing the wound back open. Next time I&#8217;ll go with that feeling in my gut<strong>.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Unconditional Love<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Ben&#8217;s thoughts following A Journey Remembered<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Embarrassed to enter your store, dirty, unshaven, and almost penniless, you graciously gave me bread, milk, and medicine for my sick boy. Your smile lit up the room and my downtrodden heart, though I couldn\u2019t say it at the time. You offered me kindness when I didn\u2019t return it. You spoke the truth that I needed to hear. You looked past my anger, and gave me a second chance. You made me want to love again, even though I was afraid. You took hold of my dream and made it yours. You freely gave me your love which made me feel whole once again. You loved Adam as your own and poured yourself into the void in his young heart. I\u2019d never known anyone with a heart so pure until you gave me our son. I miss your gentle touch and the sound of your happy singing. I miss your sweet smile and your encouraging words. I miss the golden shimmer of your hair in the sunlight. I miss the sparkle of your bright blue eyes that greeted me each morning. I miss those moments that were ours alone. More than words can express, I miss you, Inger, my love.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Stone Cold Heart<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Ben\u2019s reflections following \u201cThe Countess\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Beauty, charm, and elegance &#8212; I confess to being as vulnerable as any man when confronted by a woman with such marvelous attributes. Add a healthy dose of stroking the male ego, and she soon has said male eating out of the palm of her hand. That was the state I found myself in for a brief time, years ago, while in New Orleans. That is, until Linda abruptly changed her mind. We had seemed to be on course toward marriage, but then suddenly she seemed distracted and aloof. I had always assumed it was the thought of living in the untamed West and marrying a man with a ready-made family of two sons, but later found out that she moved on to a life of wealth and prominence with an English lord. I was shocked to hear from her after so many years. Linda, the Countess of Chadwick, \u00a0had aged to perfection &#8212; as beautiful and charming as I had remembered. And though it did strike me as odd that she would want to rekindle our relationship after the death of her husband, I am always happy to show off the Ponderosa to visitors.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Not long after Linda\u2019s arrival, a few minor annoyances at the timber camp and mine grew into a string of serious problems that put our precious Ponderosa in jeopardy; the source of which was a complete and utter mystery to me. I refused to believe, without solid proof, the conclusion of my perceptive sons. Thank God for that proof, or we might now be homeless. I still ask myself why Linda would go to such lengths, why she would think that owning me would be acceptable. I had given her the benefit of the doubt because of my past feelings for her, but in truth, <\/span>some love is just a lie of the heart, the cold remains of what began with a passionate start. <span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">And then, beauty turns grotesque, and the warmth of affection once known, a stone cold void.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n<div class=\"ipsType_normal ipsType_richText ipsContained\">\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Dead, But Not Gone<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Adam\u2019s reflections on Howard Mead<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>Poor Howard\u2019s dead and gone.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Poor Howard\u2019s dead and gone.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Poor Howard\u2019s dead and gone.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Left me here to sing his song.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The sing-song voices of the little girls who were jumping rope in the street still echoed in Adam\u2019s mind as he sat alone on the coffee table staring into the fire. Hilda had asked him that day how a man like Howard Mead could sing with so much feeling and sorrow and still be a thief and murderer. He had been unable to give her an explanation. Adam lifted his hand to strum his guitar and suddenly reached up to grab the toothpick that was hanging precariously in his teeth and fling it with frustration into the dancing flames. At the moment, he was no closer to being able to give Hilda an answer than before.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Howard\u00a0once told him that \u201c<strong>trouble been doggin&#8217; my soul since the day I was born<\/strong>.\u201d In truth, the wandering vagabond\u00a0lived out that statement and wore it like a badge of honor. It filled his music with a soulful, honesty. Yet, it grated at Adam\u2019s gut that he had been fooled by Howard\u2019s deceitful ways. Like Hilda, he asked himself how a man could so honestly lay out his heart and then in the next second take another\u2019s hard earned money and\u00a0kill in an attempt to even life\u2019s score. For all the trouble and grief he had experienced in his own life, Adam wondered why he had not had followed a similar path. Did Providence destine him to be different despite feeling an odd kinship with Howard Mead. Though he frequently found himself at odds with his father, there was no discounting the fact that Ben Cartwright\u2019s\u00a0moral code and associated expectations had given him direction and purpose. It was impossible for Adam to know how having a father like Howard\u2019s would have changed his life. He keenly felt the struggle within his soul; the unfairness of life that sucked away his ability to love and trust others.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>But I\u2019ll keep travelin\u2019 on, keep lookin\u2019 at the dawn,<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Til I can lay this lonesome body down.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>And when that day has come, I never more will roam,<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>And every road I see will lead me home.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>And when that day has come, I never more will roam,<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>And every road I see will lead me home.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Adam hummed and mindlessly played the tune he had sung with Howard. With dawn only hours away, he leaned his guitar to the side of the hearth by the bookshelf and made his way upstairs. His unsettled thoughts would make sleep elusive. He was struggling with his own desire to roam and his need to seek\u00a0answers to questions about life that plagued him. His encounter with Howard Mead had only stirred up more questions, left him with a few songs, but no answers.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Lisa<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Hoss\u2019 words and reflections at the end of Found Child<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><b><i>\u201c<\/i><\/b><b>It\u2019s probly the best thing after all. Dang ranch ain\u2019t no place ta raise a little gal. Jest turn her inta a tomboy or somethin\u2019. Dang talkative little ol\u2019 gal anyways &#8212; regular chatterbox &#8212; ain\u2019t got no time ta put up with all that foolishness.\u201d<\/b><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">You\u2019re jest a dad blame liar, Hoss Cartwright! Puttin\u2019 on a show fur Pa even when he knows full well ya don\u2019t believe a word of it. Why cain\u2019t we have a little gal permanent like on the Ponderosa? Heck, why couldn\u2019t she become a Cartwright? Lisa was happy as a bee on a clover blossom. Can ya believe that Chubb &#8212; after losin\u2019 her folks like that an\u2019 all? Now she\u2019s gotta go get used ta somebody new. I hadta act all strict like with her cuz she didn\u2019t wanta leave. Hadta slap a smile on my face when I felt like bawlin\u2019 like a baby and say\u2019 it\u2019s fur the best when I ain\u2019t one bit certain that\u2019s the case. That aunt of hers better do right by her cuz iffen I ever find out anythin\u2019 ta the contrary, she\u2019s gonna hav\u2019ta answer ta me! Sweet little Lisa &#8212; never was a purtier little gal in this whole world. Sure gonna miss your hugs an\u2019 feelin\u2019 them tiny hands grippin\u2019 tight on my shirt. Told me she loves me &#8212; a big galoot like me. Well, she cain\u2019t love me any more than I love her, ya know that Chubb, ol\u2019 boy? And she loves ya, too. We ain\u2019t never gonna furget her, are we? But Lordy, it hurts. We\u2019re all gonna miss her somethin\u2019 fierce!<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>A Decision Of Consequence<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Joe\u2019s thoughts following Decision At Los Robles<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Funny how the decision a man makes, sort of a gut reaction, can have huge consequences. One man\u2019s choice leads to another man\u2019s choice, and in the blink of an eye, a man is dead, another is mortally wounded, and a whole town is running scared. And all Pa did was tell John Walker to let go of Maria\u2019s arm. A lot of men would have looked at her and seen a no nothing Mexican barmaid, but not my Pa. After tangling with the Walkers, I\u2019m more grateful than ever for him. He\u2019s a man I can look up to, who does what\u2019s right even when he might take a beating or gets shot in the back by some coward. It makes me half sick to think how close I came to losing him. And the scary thing is &#8212; I could see myself acting an awful lot like Jed Walker if I\u2019d been John Walker\u2019s son. It\u2019s an odd feeling to think about how somewhere out there the hand of God is on your life and that things could have turned out a whole lot different. And yet, what I said to the Doc, threatening him like I did, just proves how fine a line a man walks sometimes. Nobody\u2019s perfect &#8212; not the Doc &#8212; not me &#8212; nobody.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">It\u2019s hard to understand how people can get themselves to the point of having so little self-respect that they\u2019d sell someone down the river just to survive. What kind of life is that? Thank God Maria asked that question or I might be six feet under now. It took a lot of nerve, but she made the decision to speak out to her father and the rest of the men of Los Robles. And the Padre &#8212; it was hard for him, too, knowing what was right and feeling responsible for the people of his town. He sure must have been saying a lot of prayers for everyone to make the right decision \u2018cause Pa is sitting here right beside me in the buckboard and we\u2019re headed for home. I\u2019d say those prayers got answered &#8212; they got answered in a big way!<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>A Tin Bucket Full Of Trouble<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Ben&#8217;s reflections following Catch As Catch Can<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I\u2019ve long been aware that the world is full of peculiar and foolish people who don&#8217;t seem be governed by the same set of rules that most of the rest of us follow. Though irritating and with a propensity for making one feel uncomfortable, even to the point of chaos, most of these folks seldom purposefully seek to kill. Yet every once in a great while, you run into a truly deranged sort &#8212; crazy, but crazy like a fox, and that would be Amos Parker.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">It should have all been so simple. Joe, Candy and I drove a hundred head of cattle not far from Tin Bucket and completed a successful and uneventful transaction. Hoss was to meet us in Tin Bucket with a load of hides to sell to Parker, but almost immediately upon our arrival in that dreadful little town things began to go south. Candy was set up by a card sharp and accused of cheating. Hoss was drugged and wrecked the wagon load of hides in the middle of town. Adding insult to injury, the brands on some of the hides had been doctored. Then Joe was provoked into a fight, and the instigator planted some cash on him and then accused my son of stealing it. The sheriff was no help at all choosing to accept the bizarre string of events at face value because someone had started the rumor that I was broke. With the telegraph wires conveniently out of service, I had no way of verifying anything to the contrary forcing me to send Candy back to Virginia City for cash and a letter of credit.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I had no choice but to do my own investigation and just when I located the stash of Ponderosa hides that had been swapped out, Parker showed up. I couldn\u2019t believe it when he bagan ranting and raving that it was all some type of revenge because I supposedly had an affair with his wife. I met the woman one time, years ago, when Parker and I transacted some business. Once! From that one chance meeting, he concocted this elaborate scheme to undo me, cover for his own failings and the murder of his wife, poor woman. I can only imagine the horrible things she had to endure because of her maniacal husband. May God rest her soul.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Parker and his sidekick got the drop on me and strung me up from the rafters. Four times now in my life I\u2019ve come within a whisker of getting my neck stretched. I pray to God this was the last time. Thankfully, Joe finally got the sheriff to see the light. A minute or two later and &#8212; well &#8212; I\u2019d really prefer not to think about that. No thanks, Sheriff Gant. I won\u2019t be accepting your invitation to return to Tin Bucket any time soon, most likely never!<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>When War Comes To Your Door<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Ben\u2019s thoughts following Shanklin<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I don\u2019t believe I\u2019ve ever witnessed anything quite like it before in my life, and I pray to God that I never do again. Understandably, Shanklin had suffered the worst of this world, losing his wife, son, and his vocation after having seen a tremendous number of atrocities. His actions were a testament to the evils of war that someone so intelligent, talented, and, yes, compassionate could become a tyrannical monster who determined it was his right and duty to hold a man\u2019s life in the balance and choose at his whim to extinguish it. Two of my sons\u2019 lives sat in that balance. One came ever so close to slipping off, and a third could so easily have been a casualty of the frivolous random violence.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I find myself in that impossible position of thanking God for Shanklin\u2019s ability to save Hoss\u2019 life despite the fact that it was the same crazed man who brought the whole nightmare upon us. Mercifully, Hoss was not awake to see what his brother was forced to do for his family. It would have torn him up. For all the times I have pleaded with Joseph not to take risks, I could not be more proud and grateful for the courage he displayed. He put his life on the line for his father and brothers regardless of what the next moment might have brought.\u00a0<\/span><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">It grieves me that Joesph must live with the weight of ending a man\u2019s life for we are all responsible for our actions no matter how just we believe they are in our own eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I am trying desperately to fight off the thought of Adam returning to the charred remains of the Ponderosa and four graves. I must not dwell on what might have been but focus on what I have. Joe\u2019s wound was minor and though Hoss has a long road ahead of him, both will recover. As we saw first hand, wounds of the mind can be the most devastating and may never heal. This was just one man of thousands who suffered not just for hours, but years. I shudder to think of the collective horror of it all!<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Saying Goodbye<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Adam&#8217;s thoughts as he leaves the Ponderosa<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Post Season 6<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><em>God only knows the struggle it&#8217;s been to finally make this decision. One would think that my father and brothers would be happy to see me go with all the tension my presence has caused them over the past few years. Yet, I see the hurt and regret, maybe even guilt, in their eyes, especially Pa and Joe. I would have thought that Pa would have a better understanding given it was his dreaming that got us to the Ponderosa in the first place, but it seems like Hoss is the one that gets it. Or maybe it&#8217;s just his easy temperament that loves with abandon and wants everyone to be happy. All I know is that now, when I&#8217;m about to get on the stage and head to San Francisco, there is a twinge in my heart that I haven&#8217;t felt in a while. Amazing what you can rationalize when you feel cheated. I cheated myself, when I came back after graduating from school, like I knew I would. I could have stayed in Boston and established myself, but I had a promise to keep. And I kept it, came back, and stayed longer than I should have. Looking back, it was my waffling and indecision that caused a lot of the problems. If you refuse to pull the burr from under the saddle, the irritation remains, and so do ill tempers.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Though it was unnecessary, Adam reined up Sport and dismounted to the side of the road. He had said his goodbyes at the ranch and told his family to pick up Sport the next time one of them was in town. The last thing Adam wanted was a scene at the stage office, and it felt unfair to put any of them in an awkward situation where they might feel obligated to do or say something that wasn&#8217;t genuine.<\/p>\n<p>A lump rose in his throat as Adam looked back down the road he had just traveled. He knew from his experience in architecture the importance of having the right perspective. Suddenly things looked much different than they had just a few days ago. He was overcome with a sense of gratitude and thought,\u00a0<em>how lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.\u00a0<\/em>Adam patted his horse in response to that feeling and acknowledging just how much he would miss his spirited, faithful mount, this land, and his family.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em>Weary Hearts<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em>Adam&#8217;s thoughts on the war and home.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em>Post season 6<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><em>We&#8217;re tenting tonight on the old camp ground,<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Give us a song to cheer<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Our weary hearts, a song of home<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>And friends we love so dear.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em><strong>Many are the hearts that are weary tonight\u2026&#8230;<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n<p>Adam squeezed his eyes tight and tried to shut out the filth, death and despair as the words ran through his head. He dared not even hum a few notes of the tune for fear his cover would be blown. Yet it was the one and only song resounding in his mind. He could think of no other.<\/p>\n<p>He squinted in the smoke of the campfire questioning why he had ever accepted the assignment as a Pinkerton plant in a Confederate unit. He had let his hair and beard grow long and straggly. His gift for language had allowed him to easily imitate the Southern drawls of the men around him. He had learned their favorite songs and sang for them on occasion, offering some small measure of comfort to ease their misery. Though he felt that these men huddled by the fire were fighting for an unjust and unworthy cause, they were after all just men, each with a family and a soul gifted by the Divine. Conflicted that he might ultimately be responsible for the deaths of these and many other men, Adam prayed that an end to the war would soon be negotiated.<\/p>\n<p>His thoughts drifted back home; the peacefulness of the Ponderosa, the beauty of Tahoe and the Sierra Nevadas. He was thankful that his state would be spared the horrific devastation he had witnessed. In his mind&#8217;s eye, he saw his father and brothers sitting by the huge stone hearth. How is missed the warmth, the warmth of his home and the warmth of their love. And now he wondered if his burning desire to live out his ideals would keep him from ever seeing them again.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<div id=\"content_wrapper\" class=\"xcontrast \">\n<div id=\"content_wrapper_inner\">\n<div>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>The Melodious Strains of Freedom<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Hoss&#8217; thoughts following Enter Thomas Bowers<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Jest cuz a man&#8217;s skin is black don&#8217;t mean he&#8217;s a runaway slave. Thomas Bowers found out the hard way that a lotta people in Virginia City don&#8217;t believe that. Good thing Pa raised us boys ta believe that ev&#8217;ry human bein&#8217; is a child o&#8217; God, an&#8217; skin color don&#8217;t make ya guilty o&#8217; a crime lessen there&#8217;s some proof. But Mr. Bowers got his pride hurt and didn&#8217;t wanta use that grand voice o&#8217; his ta sing for folks once he was free. I kin sure understand why he would feel thata way. There&#8217;s gonna always be some Sam Kylie&#8217;s in this world, but that opry house was packed full o&#8217; folks who was lookin&#8217; for a reason ta believe somethin&#8217; different. Bowers put on a show they ain&#8217;t never gonna forget. Sure glad he changed his mind &#8217;bout not singin&#8217;. He showed ev&#8217;rybody that the color o&#8217; your skin don&#8217;t make no difference when it comes ta makin&#8217; beautiful music. The Good Lord gave that man a gift. Hearin&#8217; purty music like that frees the soul and makes a body forget the troubles o&#8217; the world. Don&#8217;t think there&#8217;s a time when Tom feels any freer than when&#8217;s he singin&#8217; his heart out. All the hateful and nasty things people been sayin&#8217; an&#8217; doin&#8217; ta him don&#8217;t seem ta matter right then. Best o&#8217; all, there&#8217;s a bunch o&#8217; folks, includin&#8217; me, that are real happy we gotta hear Thomas Bowers sing!<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<p class=\"p1\">\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><b>The Lies I Tell Myself<\/b><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><b>Ben\u2019s Thoughts from \u201cHer Brother\u2019s Keeper\u201d<\/b><\/p>\n<p>I know what I\u2019m doing<span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">. It\u2019s just been a while since the opportunity has truly presented itself. It\u2019s been too long &#8212; much too long. Is it so wrong to want to love again &#8212; to want a woman by my side, to share everything &#8212; everything. I know she has a past &#8212; and a brother who &#8212; could be &#8212; is &#8212; a problem. But I won\u2019t let it &#8212; him &#8212; can\u2019t let him. Claire is so beautiful and engaging. She fills my heart with a hope that I\u2019ve not felt since &#8212; Marie. It\u2019s not as though my heart is wholly without conflict, and yet I feel like a weight has been lifted and the sun is shining where there\u2019s been only shadow and loss. I can understand her hesitancy, but she desperately needs a man in her life to give her the stability and security and to help her carry her burden of guilt. What happened to Carl is not her fault. She was a child. Children make mistakes &#8212; we all make mistakes. Oh Claire, can\u2019t you see that? Let me help you. You are going to let me help you &#8212; love you. Tomorrow will be that day. Tomorrow!<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><b>0~0~0~0~0<\/b><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">She\u2019s gone &#8212; without a word &#8212; no goodbye &#8212; just an empty house and a dried rose &#8212; the heart-rending reminder of love blossomed and withered &#8212; never given the chance to receive the care and nurture it needed &#8212; not just for Claire , but myself as well. I let myself believe that she needed me as much as I needed her, that I had given her a reason to trust a man again, and that love would be enough. How many times, Cartwright? How many times? These <\/span>and <span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">how many<\/span> other lies I tell myself <span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">because it\u2019s too painful to believe otherwise, to give up, and not have hope.<\/span> <span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">But for today and for how many days will this ache in my heart and the emptiness persist. Will I get another chance for love in this life? God only knows.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Confessions<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">Four short pieces written for a challenge on confession.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Ben: Old Sheba<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Ben and his sons were sitting at the dinner table the evening after Sheba had been returned to Mr. Tweedy.<\/p>\n<p>Ben pushed back from the table and began his lament. &#8220;When all was said and done, I kind of liked that old gal. She was a good companion while I read the paper. And I&#8217;ll never forget the looks on the faces of the people of Virginia City when I rode her into town! Now that was really something! Almost makes me want to have that old elephant back so I could do again sometime!<\/p>\n<p>His three sons looked at him with wide eyes.<\/p>\n<p>Ben gave them a sheepish grin. &#8220;I did say almost!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Adam: Burma Rarity<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Shh! Shh!&#8221; Adam held his finger to his lips as Joe sat fidgeting and Hoss rubbed his hands together.<\/p>\n<p>Ben had just gone up to bed after a trying day.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I wish you would have seen him.&#8221; Adam kept his voice low. &#8220;Pa looked kinda green &#8211; about like he did that time Doc Martin told him he was going to pull his tooth!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Joe giggled and was shushed by his oldest brother.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;He drug me to the door of Clementine&#8217;s place. I thought he might lose his breakfast when she started twirling his neckerchief!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Hoss covered his mouth to keep a big guffaw from escaping.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;When Clementine pointedly told Pa how lonely she gets without a man around the house, he all but held my hand on the way out the door!&#8221; Adam&#8217;s pained expression was met with his brothers snickers. &#8220;He was totally undone by her telling him, &#8216;goodbye, Ducky!'&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>The three brothers shared muffled laughter.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Not sure I&#8217;ve ever seen Pa that uncomfortable before!&#8221; Adam&#8217;s brow shot up. &#8220;I pray to God no woman comes after me like that. Do me a favor and just shoot me if that happens!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Hoss: The Newcomers<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Spring on the ranch was generally a pleasant time filled with hope and new life, however Adam had noticed that Hoss did not seem his usual, happy-go-lucky self. When his oldest son brought this to his father&#8217;s attention, Ben decided to send Adam and Hoss to repair fences. His hope was that the time spent together would give the brothers plenty of time to talk.<\/p>\n<p>While sitting in the shade after a full morning of work, Adam thought he would try to get Hoss to unburden himself.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Something&#8217;s been eating at you lately, Hoss. What&#8217;s wrong?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Hoss looked at hit brother a bit surprised and then worked hard to swallow down his bit of sandwich. Embarrassed, he dropped his head into his hand. &#8220;I jest couldn&#8217;t do it Adam.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Couldn&#8217;t do what?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>The big man heaved a great sigh. &#8220;I know I promised Emily, but I jest couldn&#8217;t go to the canyon this year. It jest hurts too much. If I&#8217;d looked at all those purty dogwoods &#8211; I &#8211; I -&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s ok, brother. I&#8217;m sure she understands.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Gosh I hope so. I loved her, Adam. I really loved her!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Joe: After the death of Hoss<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>A sadness settled over the Ponderosa in the aftermath of Hoss&#8217; drowning. A few weeks later after the funeral, Ben noticed that Joe was agitated and angry for no apparent reason. The last straw came when Joe reamed Jamie for forgetting something minor. Ben found the discord intolerable, and confronted Joe about his actions.<\/p>\n<p>Joe paced and shouted in response. &#8220;Pa, I&#8217;m trying to run a ranch here, and stuff has got to be done right. The sooner Jamie figures that out the better!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Joseph. Please calm down.&#8221; Ben felt his own frustration building as he watched his son pacing back and forth across the living room. &#8220;JOSEPH! STOP!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Suddenly there were tears in Joe&#8217;s eyes. &#8220;Why Pa? Why do I feel this way? I&#8217;m so mad at Hoss for going into that river &#8211; and &#8211; and -&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Ben rushed to his son and wrapped him in his arms. &#8220;Let it out, son. It&#8217;s eating you up from the inside.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I &#8211; we &#8211; loved him so much!&#8221; Joe sobbed. &#8220;I could understand if it was one of us &#8211; but for someone he didn&#8217;t even know! It&#8217;s just not right! Just not right!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Ben held Joe for a moment and then squeezed the back of his neck before releasing him. There were tears in Ben&#8217;s eyes. &#8220;You know I&#8217;d give anything to have your brother back &#8211; but not if he was some other man &#8211; not the one we loved so much!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Joe gazed intently into his father&#8217;s dark eyes. With his anger gone, his shoulders slumped and he nodded. &#8220;I&#8217;m sorry, Pa &#8211; I&#8217;m sorry. Sometimes I forget that I&#8217;m not the only one who&#8217;s missing him. It&#8217;s just so hard.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Ben pulled Joe back into his arms again and whispered. &#8220;I know, son. 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This is his reflection of that change. Rating = K, WC = 804","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Short Stories&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Short Stories","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=8"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/Gabrielle-2.png?fit=642%2C644&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/Gabrielle-2.png?fit=642%2C644&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/Gabrielle-2.png?fit=642%2C644&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2076,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=2076","url_meta":{"origin":15666,"position":1},"title":"Joe Cartwright &#8211; Seven Up (by JoanS)","author":"JoanS","date":"September 7, 2009","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: \u00a0A woman finds an old diary in an antique store Rated: K (15,220\u00a0 words)","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Drama&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Drama","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=23"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/diary.jpg?fit=1200%2C900&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/diary.jpg?fit=1200%2C900&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/diary.jpg?fit=1200%2C900&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/diary.jpg?fit=1200%2C900&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/diary.jpg?fit=1200%2C900&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":7403,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=7403","url_meta":{"origin":15666,"position":2},"title":"Still the Best Story in Town (by southplains)","author":"southplains","date":"July 19, 2008","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: \u00a0Just where did David Dortort get the ideas for his characters in the best television show ever made? Written as an exercise to get the creative juices flowing... 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