For all the mothers out there who give us so much.<\/p>\n
Summary:\u00a0 An innocent comment by the reverend at church sends 40 year old Ben Cartwright on a journey into his young son’s hearts.<\/p>\n
Rated: G \u00a0Word count: 3427<\/p>\n
Her Angel Arms<\/strong><\/p>\n ONE<\/p>\n Forty-year-old Ben Cartwright stood in the middle of his great room with his hands on his hips, listening.\u00a0 He was puzzled.\u00a0 He knew his three sons were home.\u00a0 It was late afternoon and they had just returned from town and church.<\/p>\n Come to think of it, they’d been quiet at church too.\u00a0 Not<\/em> a normal occurrence, at least where Hoss and Little Joe were concerned.\u00a0 Adam, at nearly twenty, had matured into a respectful young man but even he had a tendency to make noise.\u00a0 Ben smiled.\u00a0 He still had to call Adam ‘out’ at times.<\/p>\n The boy would probably be thirty before he stopped shushing his little brothers.<\/p>\n Especially<\/em> Joseph.<\/p>\n Ben thought back over the ride from town.\u00a0 The trio had been unusually sober during their journey home as well.\u00a0 Come to think of it, he’d seen Hoss circle Little Joe with an arm, as if the boy was upset about something. He’d been so busy discussing business with Adam that he hadn’t done anything about it.<\/p>\n The older man pinched the bridge of his nose.<\/p>\n Now what?<\/p>\n “Mister Cartwright ready to check Hop Sing’s list?” his housekeeper’ voice chimed.\u00a0 “Say he do so when he come home from church.”<\/p>\n Ben looked at the stairs and then at his friend.\u00a0 Before he could open his mouth, the Asian man spoke.<\/p>\n “Boys upset.”<\/p>\n Ben nodded. \u00a0“Do you have any idea why?”<\/p>\n Hop Sing shook his head. \u00a0“Mistah Adam purse lips and sigh.\u00a0 Mister Hoss refuse offer of cookie, and Little Joe say he not want to eat.”<\/p>\n All<\/em> sure signs that a disaster of Biblical proportions was in the making.<\/p>\n Ben scratched his head. \u00a0“I suppose I should go up and talk to them.”<\/p>\n “Which boy you talk to first?”<\/p>\n That was right.\u00a0 He’d have to make a choice.<\/p>\n His eldest would deny there was anything to talk about and yet, in some ways, Adam felt things more deeply than his younger brothers.\u00a0 Hoss would dismiss it too though, in the end, he would open up and let him know what was wrong.\u00a0 Joseph\u2026.\u00a0 Ah, Joseph.\u00a0 The boy would be on his bed, cocooned in bed linens, sniffling.\u00a0 When he went in, Little Joe would pretend to be asleep – still sniffling.\u00a0 Joseph was his most gregarious and expressive child and yet, in some ways, the hardest to reach.\u00a0 His mother’s tragic death two years before had left him emotionally fragile.<\/p>\n Ben drew in a sharp breath.<\/p>\n His ‘mother’s’<\/em> death.<\/p>\n Good Lord.<\/p>\n Those three boys did have an old fool for a father!<\/p>\n A few short steps brought Ben to Adam’s door.\u00a0 At first, when he knocked, he thought his eldest was going to pretend to be asleep, but then he heard him stir and walk across the room.\u00a0 A moment later the door opened to reveal the boy.\u00a0 His son’s black hair was disheveled and his eyes red-rimmed.\u00a0 He must have been asleep.<\/p>\n Or crying.<\/p>\n “May I come in?”<\/p>\n Adam pursed his lips and shrugged.\u00a0 “Sure, Pa.\u00a0 Do you want something?”<\/p>\n “I was just thinking about what the preacher said today.”<\/p>\n His son’s hazel brown eyes flicked to him.\u00a0 “Oh?\u00a0 Revelation or Romans?”<\/p>\n “Proverbs.”<\/p>\n Adam sat heavily on his bed.\u00a0 He ran a hand through his wayward hair.\u00a0 “Oh.”<\/p>\n The preacher had spoken from Proverbs three in preparation for the following week’s celebration of mothers. \u00a0“I noticed you three were rather quiet on the way home today.”<\/p>\n Adam looked pained.\u00a0 “Little Joe was pretty upset.”<\/p>\n Little Joe.<\/p>\n “About?”<\/p>\n “It’s hard\u2026.”\u00a0 His son paused. \u00a0Adam cleared his throat.\u00a0 “Whenever the reverend speaks about mothers, it’s hard\u2026for Joe.”<\/p>\n Ben hesitated, and then he asked, “Just<\/em> for Joseph?”<\/p>\n Adam remained silent for a moment and then rose and walked over to the window.\u00a0 Once there he leaned his hand on the sash.\u00a0 A sigh shivered through his lean frame before he spoke.<\/p>\n “I don’t understand it, Pa.\u00a0 It makes no sense.\u00a0 There’s a hunger in me for\u2026something I have never tasted.” \u00a0His son turned to look at him.\u00a0 “How can you miss something you’ve never had?”<\/p>\n He wanted to go to him – to put his arms around him – but this was Adam.\u00a0 If there was to be any physical contact, the boy would have to initiate it.\u00a0 His son’s wounds went deep and he had bound himself in aloofness to survive them.<\/p>\n “What do you remember of your mother?” Ben asked softly.<\/p>\n Adam’s brows winged toward the black locks spilling onto his forehead.\u00a0 “Nothing.\u00a0 Absolutely nothing.”<\/p>\n “Are you sure?”<\/p>\n That brought a frown.\u00a0 “Sure, I’m sure. \u00a0She was dead before I could remember her.”\u00a0 The words were short, brusque. The sound of them brought an apology.\u00a0 “Sorry, Pa.\u00a0 I didn’t mean to\u2026.”<\/p>\n “There’s no need to apologize.”\u00a0 Ben paused.\u00a0 “Son, what I am going to say may sound strange, but you did<\/em> know your mother.\u00a0 You spent nine months with her – as a part of her.”<\/p>\n Adam moved to the chair by the window.\u00a0 He nodded as he sat down.\u00a0 “There was an article in one of the medical journals Paul leant me, about the possibility of fetal memory.”<\/p>\n Ben hid his smile.\u00a0 Of course.\u00a0 A journal.<\/p>\n “When you think of your mother, what comes to mind?”<\/p>\n It took a good half minute.\u00a0 When Adam was asked to think, he did so – deeply.<\/p>\n “Contentment.\u00a0 security.”\u00a0 A slight smile curled his lips.\u00a0 “And strangely enough, joy.”<\/p>\n “Not so strangely.”<\/p>\n He could see Elizabeth.\u00a0 She was standing in the window just as her son had done, facing out, looking onto the New England dawn.\u00a0 The coppery light spilled through the curtains turning her brunette hair to bronze.\u00a0 She had it unfastened and it fell about her shoulders.\u00a0 One hand rested on the windowpane and the other protectively on her midriff, which had grown great with child. \u00a0His first wife had been one of those women maternity suited, infusing her with a new kind of life.\u00a0 He’d laughed at her, but she was certain from the moment she knew she had conceived that they would have a boy. \u00a0She talked to Adam each and every day, telling him of the life he would have, but even more of how precious he was to her – of how much she loved him and would gladly give her life for him.<\/p>\n Contentment.\u00a0 Security.<\/p>\n Joy.<\/p>\n “I think – in a way – that your grief is deep because you do<\/em> remember your mother and you do know what you lost.\u00a0 Your time with her was brief but,” Ben smiled, “she was an extraordinary woman and what she was, made you what you are.”<\/p>\n “But Pa\u2026shouldn’t I have moved past it by now?”<\/p>\n “Son, the reality is that you will grieve forever. You don’t ‘get over’ the loss of someone you love, you just learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild, but you will never be the same.”\u00a0 \u00a0He crossed over to the boy and dared to lay a hand on his shoulder.\u00a0 “Nor should you be<\/em> the same.\u00a0 Nor would you want to be.”<\/p>\n Adam considered his words. Then he nodded.<\/p>\n “Now,” Ben said as he lifted his hand, “let me tell you what I<\/em> remember of Elizabeth and you.”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n TWO<\/p>\n A knock on the next door brought an end to sniffles – and it wasn’t Joseph’s door.<\/p>\n “Hoss, can I come in?”<\/p>\n There was a moment of hesitation and then his son said, “Sure, Pa.”<\/p>\n Hoss was so different from his older brother.\u00a0 He was as open as Adam was closed.\u00a0 His middle boy turned his tear-streaked, red-rimmed face toward him and said, with a shrug, “Sorry, Pa.”<\/p>\n “For what?” Ben asked as he came into the room and moved to take a seat on the bed.<\/p>\n “For upsettin’ Little Joe.”<\/p>\n This was new – and a surprise.<\/p>\n “You <\/em>upset your brother?”<\/p>\n Hoss nodded as he sat on the other side of the bed.\u00a0 “Well, you know how the preacher was talkin’ about mothers and honorin’ them today?”<\/p>\n “Yes.”<\/p>\n “Little Joe, well, you know how he is.”<\/p>\n “Why don’t you tell me?”<\/p>\n “The preacher was talkin’, but he wasn’t listenin’.\u00a0 Adam and me, we figured that was a good thing ’cause Little Joe gets right upset when he thinks about his mama.”<\/p>\n Which was why Hoss’<\/em> sniffling surprised him.<\/p>\n “So what does this have to do with you upsetting your brother?”<\/p>\n Hoss let out a sigh.\u00a0 “There I was, worryin’ bout Little Joe, when all of a sudden\u2026.\u00a0 Pa, I don’t know what hit me.\u00a0 Suddenly, I\u2026”\u00a0 The boy dropped his head. \u00a0“I missed my mama so powerful much I started cryin’.”\u00a0 He shook his head.\u00a0 “Little Joe asked me what was wrong and I didn\u2019t want to tell him and he got mad so’s I had to tell him, and then he got all sad ’cause he was missin’ his<\/em> ma\u2026and we both just sat there cryin’ together.”<\/p>\n Where had he been that he’d missed this?<\/p>\n “In the service?”<\/p>\n “No. In the buggy on the way home.”<\/p>\n Hence the arm around the shoulder.<\/p>\n Hoss had his mother for a few months.\u00a0 Long enough to feel her arms around him and to hear Inger’s sweet voice singing softly to him and cooing in his ear. \u00a0His beautiful Swedish wife had doted on her son.\u00a0 Inger had a special way with tiny helpless things – though Hoss had not been that tiny!\u00a0 He’d often wondered what the boy remembered about her – if he remembered anything.<\/p>\n “I was just talking to your older brother,” Ben began.\u00a0 “I asked him what he could recall about his mother.”<\/p>\n “All I know is what you told me, Pa,” Hoss answered honestly.<\/p>\n “There is that.”\u00a0 He’d filled the boys heads with many and marvelous images of their absent mothers over the years, speaking of them whenever he could.\u00a0 “But what do you<\/em> remember?”<\/p>\n “Gosh, Pa.\u00a0 I was just a baby when she died.”<\/p>\n “But you miss her.\u00a0 You must remember something.”<\/p>\n Hoss stared at him and then closed his eyes and screwed his face up as if he was thinking hard.\u00a0 “I think I can hear her singing.”<\/p>\n “Your mother often sang to you, on the long nights traveling by wagon.\u00a0 What else?”<\/p>\n His son’s eyes opened.\u00a0 “Can you\u2026remember a smell?”<\/p>\n “Certainly.\u00a0 Sometimes those memories are more powerful than sight.”<\/p>\n “Mama smelled\u2026fresh.\u00a0 Like\u2026.”\u00a0 He frowned.\u00a0 “You’re gonna think this is funny.”<\/p>\n “Go on.”<\/p>\n “Well, like linens after they hung in the sun to dry.\u00a0 Clean.\u00a0 If you know what I mean?”<\/p>\n “I do indeed.”<\/p>\n Inger had been a clean breath of air – a fresh breeze – that had blown into his life.\u00a0 After losing Elizabeth, he’d lost his way, like a ship set adrift in a gale. It was only a matter of time until he foundered and sank.\u00a0 The saddest thing of all was that he wasn\u2019t alone on that ship.\u00a0 Adam was there and he nearly took the boy down with him.<\/p>\n And then, he met Inger.<\/p>\n He could see her, the sun’s light turning her blonde hair to gold.\u00a0 Whenever she went missing, he would find her in nature, usually with a bird perched on her finger or a tiny bunny tucked in the crook of her arm.\u00a0 She was tall and lithe, and it had been amusing to watch the small bump at her middle grow each day with the promise of their Norse Viking of a son.\u00a0 She wasn’t as cautious as Elizabeth. He’d even chided her a time or two for taking what he considered risks while she was carrying the child they would name Eric, but call Hoss. One day he found her sitting on a branch several feet above the ground. When he demanded to know why she would take such a risk, Inger had smiled and told him life was a risk and if one was afraid to take it, then they would never truly have lived.<\/p>\n She had been a ray of sunshine in his life, come into that storm to let him know that a new day had dawned.<\/p>\n “Pa?\u00a0 I hope I didn’t upset you.”<\/p>\n Rising, Ben moved to the other side of the bed.\u00a0 Hoss might be thirteen, but he was still a boy – even if he was nearly as tall as he was!<\/p>\n “No, son, you didn’t upset me.\u00a0 You gave me a gift.”<\/p>\n “What gift was that?”<\/p>\n “A memory of your mother I had forgotten.”\u00a0 He circled his son’s broad shoulders with his arm.\u00a0 “Would you like to hear it?”<\/p>\n Hoss smiled.\u00a0 The tears were gone.<\/p>\n “I sure would, Pa!”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n THREE<\/p>\n His third stop would be his hardest.\u00a0 Of all his boys, Little Joe was the most like his mother.\u00a0 He had her beauty in a masculine form and seemed, from all appearances, to be as small-boned as she had been.\u00a0 Time alone would tell if he would approach the stature of his brothers.\u00a0 Joseph also felt things deeply and was more than ready to let you know just what<\/em> he felt.\u00a0 Without warning his emotions would swing from one end of the spectrum to the other\u00a0 – and do it fast as lightning!<\/p>\n Just like Marie.<\/p>\n Ben placed his hand on the latch and braced himself.\u00a0 He had no way of knowing which child would greet him – the brooding one, the angry one, or – most likely – the one consumed by sorrow and drowning in tears.<\/p>\n So it was to his complete and utter surprise that when he opened the door to Little Joe’s room, his son’s curly head popped up over the edge of the bed and he smiled at him.<\/p>\n Smiled.<\/p>\n It was a smile with a shadow of sadness, perhaps best described as a wistful one, but it was a smile nonetheless.<\/p>\n “Hey, Pa,” his youngest said.<\/p>\n “Hey, yourself,” he replied.\u00a0 “Joseph, what are you doing sitting on the floor?”<\/p>\n Little Joe hesitated.\u00a0 “Do I have to tell you?” the boy asked.<\/p>\n “No,” Ben said as he took a seat on the bed opposite where his son was, “but I’d like to know.”<\/p>\n Joe winced.\u00a0 “I feel kind of\u2026well\u2026silly.”<\/p>\n “Silly?\u00a0 And why is that?”<\/p>\n The boy rose slowly to his feet.\u00a0 He glanced at him and then bent down and picked something up.<\/p>\n He recognized it instantly and the sight of it cast him backwards in time.\u00a0 He could see Marie, standing by the window in the room where she would later give birth to their son. She had something in her hands.\u00a0 He’d been aware that a delivery had been made earlier in the day and she’d been excited about it.\u00a0 The business of the ranch had called him away and he’d failed to find out what it contained. When he asked, she placed one hand on the elegantly crafted wooden box and opened the lid to reveal a fine set of handmade and painted horses. There were a dozen in all, so lifelike he half-expected them to rear up and dash across the room.\u00a0 Marie explained that she had ordered them from France shortly after she found out she was expecting.\u00a0 Like Elizabeth, she was sure their child was a boy – and a high-spirited one.\u00a0 His wife loved horses.\u00a0 She loved their spirit, their beauty and their strength.\u00a0 Petit Joseph<\/em>, she said, for she had named the child before it took its first breath in the world, would be the same.\u00a0 Their child would be the sum of the two of them – fiery, but self-controlled, with a steely determination and a high sense of justice.<\/p>\n And of course he would be handsome, since his papa was handsome.<\/p>\n Non?<\/em><\/p>\n Ben reached out and lifted of the fine horses from the box.\u00a0 There were only eleven now.\u00a0 Hoss had stepped on one and broken it a year or so back, shortly after Marie died.<\/p>\n What a day that had been!<\/p>\n “What’s this one’s name?” he asked.\u00a0 It was a beautiful brown horse with a mane of gold.<\/p>\n “You won’t be mad?” his seven-year-old son asked.<\/p>\n Ben shook his head.<\/p>\n “Marie.\u00a0 I named that one after mama because it’s the most beautiful.”<\/p>\n The older man drew in a breath as he fought back tears.\u00a0 He placed the horse in his son’s hand and then said, “Joseph, come here.\u00a0 Sit with me.”<\/p>\n Little Joe took the horse and reverently returned it to its place before closing the lid and then sliding the box back under his bed where he apparently kept it. \u00a0Then he came to sit with him.<\/p>\n Ben circled his small form with an arm as he asked, “What do you remember of your mother?”<\/p>\n Joe looked stricken.\u00a0 “I don’t remember her, papa.”<\/p>\n Papa.<\/p>\n He inched in closer so the boy was leaning against him.\u00a0 “Oh, yes, you do.\u00a0 Don’t think with you head, son.\u00a0 Think with your heart.”<\/p>\n Little Joe frowned.\u00a0 He bit his lip.\u00a0 “Do sounds count?” he asked softly.<\/p>\n “Of course.”<\/p>\n “I remember\u2026I remember the sound of her skirts when she came in to kiss me goodnight. They’d brush against the side of the bed when she leaned over me.” His son grinned. “Mama always thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t.”<\/p>\n “Why didn’t you want her to know?”<\/p>\n Joe looked at him. “Cause I wanted to smell her.”<\/p>\n “Smell her?” he laughed.<\/p>\n The boy nodded.\u00a0 “Mama smelled like\u2026lilacs.”<\/p>\n It was a French cologne Marie preferred.\u00a0 It cost an arm and leg to import, but it had been well worth it.\u00a0\u00a0 “So see, you remember something else about her.”<\/p>\n Little Joe looked startled and then that smile returned – the wistful one.\u00a0 “Papa, can I ask you a question?”<\/p>\n “Certainly.”<\/p>\n “You won’t get mad this time either?”<\/p>\n Ben cocked his head and pretended to scowl.\u00a0 “Should I?”<\/p>\n “Yes. \u00a0No.\u00a0 Well, maybe.”<\/p>\n “Joseph, you can ask me anything.\u00a0 Anytime. \u00a0There is no such thing as a bad or wrong question. It’s how we learn.”<\/p>\n The little boy squared his shoulders.\u00a0 “Okay.\u00a0 Here it is.\u00a0 How come God lets mamas die when we need them?”<\/p>\n Oh\u2026dear.<\/p>\n There were pat answers.\u00a0 Because God knows best. \u00a0\u00a0Because it’s the Father’s will.\u00a0 Because your mother is better off out of this weary, wicked world.<\/p>\n The little face staring up at him would have none of that.<\/p>\n “I don’t know, son,” he said honestly.\u00a0 “God has a reason, I firmly believe that, but I don’t know why.”<\/p>\n His son’s green eyes were narrowed.\u00a0 He was thinking hard.<\/p>\n “Maybe\u2026maybe it’s ’cause we have such a good papa.\u00a0 God knew you could be both ma and pa to Adam and Hoss and me.”<\/p>\n Ben sucked in air.\u00a0 The tears were threatening again.\u00a0 And then he looked at his innocent child and let them flow.<\/p>\n “Don’t cry, Papa,” Joe said as he reached up to brush one of them away.\u00a0 “I’m sorry if I made you sad.”<\/p>\n “Oh, Joseph!” he said as he drew the boy close.\u00a0 “You didn’t make me sad.\u00a0 These are tears of joy.\u00a0 God gave me three beautiful intelligent women to love and when He took them, He left a bit of them behind in each of you.\u00a0 In Adam and in Hoss,” he touched his boy’s cheek, “and in you. I couldn’t have asked for a greater or richer gift.”<\/p>\n “Is this a private party or can anyone join in?” a familiar voice asked.<\/p>\n Ben looked toward the door and found his elder sons standing in it.\u00a0 Adam as usual was reticent.\u00a0 He took a chair by the desk.\u00a0 Hoss plunked down beside him and Little Joe, making them both jump with the resulting linen wave.<\/p>\n “So, Pa,” Adam said.\u00a0 “What do you think about attending the banquet in honor of mothers next Sunday?”<\/p>\n That was, after all, what had set this off.<\/p>\n “I think we oughta go, Pa,” Hoss added.\u00a0 “I mean, our mamas may be gone, but we can still honor them. Can’t we?”<\/p>\n Little Joe was nodding.<\/p>\n “I\u2026don’t know why not,” he replied.\u00a0 “And you know what?\u00a0 I’m going to thank the reverend.”<\/p>\n “Thank him?” Adam asked.\u00a0 “For what?”<\/p>\n Ben put his arm around Hoss’ shoulder. \u00a0He already had one around Little Joe’s.\u00a0 “For tonight,” he said.\u00a0 “For the laughter and tears.\u00a0 For the memories.\u00a0 And for giving us an opportunity to stop and remember the angels who gave birth to the three of you.”<\/p>\n “Amen!” Joseph proclaimed.<\/p>\n Hoss and Adam looked startled. Then the two of them laughed.<\/p>\n “Amen!” his eldest echoed.<\/p>\n “Amen, amen!”<\/em> Hoss added.<\/p>\n Ben looked from one boy to the next and then to Heaven where he knew his three beautiful wives were watching.<\/p>\n Amen.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Tags:<\/strong> Adam Cartwright, Ben Cartwright, ESA, ESH, ESJ, Family, Hoss Cartwright, Joe \/ Little Joe Cartwright, mothers, wife \/ wives<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" For all the mothers out there who give us so much.
\nAn innocent comment by the reverend at church sends 40 year old Ben Cartwright on a journey into his young son’s hearts.\u00a0\u00a0
\nRated: G
\nWord count: 3427<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":10058,"featured_media":30505,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[1015,23,30,8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-21949","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-joe-pa","category-drama","category-prequels","category-short-stories","wpcat-1015-id","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-30-id","wpcat-8-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/05\/Marie-Joe-one--scaled.jpg?fit=2560%2C2560&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21949","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/10058"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=21949"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21949\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/30505"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=21949"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=21949"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=21949"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}