Summary: A What-Happened-In-Between for the Julia Bulette Story. Some wounds never heal.<\/p>\n
Rating: T (935 words)<\/p>\n
Reputation<\/strong><\/p>\n
by patina<\/strong><\/p>\n
Joe\u2019s stinging rebuke echoed in Ben\u2019s ears – \u201cHer name is Miss Bulette.\u201d<\/p>\n
A feeling of gloom settled around Ben\u2019s shoulders. \u00a0Joe\u2019s Creole temper often erupted like a New Orleans summer afternoon storm that blew over as quickly as it arose.\u00a0 Not this time.\u00a0 Ben knew it deep in his heart.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is Adam\u2019s fault,\u201d Ben muttered.\u00a0 \u201cIf Adam hadn\u2019t let him go in the Palace, she wouldn\u2019t be using my own son against me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ben had visited Julia earlier in the day, to come to an understanding about Joe.\u00a0 Julia had seemed amenable to discouraging his son\u2019s visits.\u00a0 At least she isn\u2019t in love with the boy<\/em>, he\u2019d thought. \u00a0The door\u2019s slam proved beyond a doubt that Joe was<\/em> in love with her.<\/p>\n
How can I make him understand<\/em>? he wondered.<\/p>\n
He picked up the letter opener, the point of the blade pressed against his opposite forefinger.\u00a0 Tapping the blade against the desk did nothing to dispel his thoughts.<\/p>\n
Ben looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he studied a knot in the wood.\u00a0 Julia had come into his life when Joe was a little boy, the son of a father grieving for a newly-buried wife.\u00a0 Ben leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, remembering breaking Julia\u2019s heart as easily as a twig.<\/p>\n
**<\/p>\n
Julia pressed her cheek against Ben\u2019s back, her arms wrapped around him and her fingers preventing him from buttoning his shirt.\u00a0 He leaned forward just enough for her hands to slip to his waist.\u00a0 After fastening the shirt, he turned to face her as he tucked in the garment.<\/p>\n
He scanned her face, memorizing the pout of her full lips and the eyes so dark the pupils were practically masked by the irises.\u00a0 Julia\u2019s eyes were much like Marie\u2019s\u2014at times they were as indecipherable as the depths of Lake Tahoe.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong, Ben?\u00a0 You seem far away.\u00a0 Trouble with your boys?\u201d<\/p>\n
He shook his head and stepped back, distancing himself from both Julia and the bed they\u2019d shared.\u00a0 With his hands behind his back there was no chance he could touch her and lose his resolve.\u00a0 \u201cI can\u2019t . . . I won\u2019t see you anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
Julia\u2019s eyebrows drew together and she sucked air in through parted lips as if she\u2019d been punched in the gut.\u00a0 A slow shake of her head told him far more than a torrent of words ever could.<\/p>\n
I guess I did sucker punch her<\/em>, thought Ben.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou must be joking,\u201d she finally said.\u00a0 She reached forward as if to cup his face, change his mind with her touch.<\/p>\n
This isn\u2019t a time for gentleness<\/em>, he thought.\u00a0 He knew his resolve would crumble if he let her try to persuade him otherwise.<\/p>\n
He took her hands in his own and held them, palms together, as if in prayer.\u00a0 \u201cNever again, Julia.\u00a0 From this day forward, never again.\u201d<\/p>\n
She roughly drew her hands from his clasp and drew back as if his very touch burned her.\u00a0 He held his hand to his cheek, stinging from the impact of her palm.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d she asked.\u00a0 Her voice quavered as she fought back tears.\u00a0 \u201cIs there someone else?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ben shook his head.\u00a0 \u201cOnly the Ponderosa.\u00a0 She will always come first.\u201d<\/p>\n
Julia snorted.\u00a0 \u201cBefore your precious sons?\u00a0 They mean less to you than that chunk of dirt and rocks you call a ranch?\u201d<\/p>\n
He clenched and unclenched his fists, a flush of anger turning his neck and cheeks a dark red.\u00a0 \u201cThe Ponderosa is<\/em> for my sons.\u00a0 It\u2019s my legacy for them.\u00a0 Some day.\u201d\u00a0 Ben took a deep breath and pulled back his shoulders to stand at full height before rushing through the words he\u2019d practiced several times.\u00a0 \u201cI have to think of my reputation now that Virginia City is growing and Ponderosa business is picking up.\u00a0 Newcomers are settling here with wives, respectable women.\u00a0 My sons will one day need wives.\u00a0 Someday this territory may even become a state and I may be called upon to run for office.\u00a0 I may never be afforded that opportunity from people who only think of me as a man who associates with . . . .\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA whore,\u201d Julia said with a snort.<\/p>\n
She turned away and poured a glass of brandy.\u00a0 Ben flinched at the way in which she tossed it back, as if to wash bitter disappointment from her mouth.<\/p>\n
Ben removed a bank draft from his jacket and proffered it.\u00a0 \u201cYou should be able to build a decent saloon with this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Julia faced him and closed her hand around the empty glass.\u00a0 \u201cSo, you\u2019ve thought of me as nothing more than a bedwarmer.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes narrowed and Ben ducked as the empty glass sailed over his head and into the wall, splintering with a crash.<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia . . . .\u201d Ben said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d think you\u2019d be eager to get out of here.\u00a0 Go.\u201d\u00a0 She turned her back to him.<\/p>\n
Ben set the bank draft on a table on his way out of her room.\u00a0 The latch clicking into place behind him sounded a finality that his words had not.<\/p>\n
**<\/p>\n
Ben shook his head to dispel the cobweb of memories.\u00a0 He tossed the letter opener on the desk, as if it were a dagger that could excise Julia\u2019s presence in his life.<\/p>\n
After their brief, heated exchange, Ben knew his son had left for Julia\u2019s and the kind of comfort only she could provide. \u00a0\u00a0He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the sturdy desk, face in his hands, fingertips pressing against his brow.\u00a0 \u201cPlease don\u2019t break my son as I broke you, Julia,\u201d Ben whispered.<\/p>\n
The End<\/p>\n
June 2019<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Tags:<\/strong> Angst, Ben Cartwright, Flashback, Julia Bulette<\/p>\n