{"id":5962,"date":"2009-02-12T18:17:22","date_gmt":"2009-02-12T23:17:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=5962"},"modified":"2025-02-27T12:13:32","modified_gmt":"2025-02-27T17:13:32","slug":"between-life-and-death","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=5962","title":{"rendered":"Between Life And Death (by pkmoonshine)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Ben Cartwright lies on what may be his deathbed, near comatose from raging fever.\u00a0 What thoughts go through the heads of those who love him most as they try and come to grips with the prospect that his time with them may be at an end?\u00a0\u00a0 This story is part of the series begun in \u201cBloodlines<\/a>,\u201d and includes the addition of two non-cannon characters.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201d All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are property of their respective owners.<\/p>\n

Rating \u00a0K+ (13,255 words)<\/p>\n

Next story in this series: \u00a0Orenna<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Bloodlines Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Bloodlines<\/a>
\nThe Lo Mein Affair<\/a>
\nThe Wedding<\/a>
\nSacrificial Lamb<\/a>
\nPoltergeist II<\/a>
\nIndependence Day<\/a>
\nVirginia City Detour<\/a>
\nThe Guardian<\/a>
\nLi’l One<\/a>
\nYoung Cartwrights in Love<\/a>
\nSan Francisco Revisited<\/a>
\nThere But for the Grace of God<\/a>
\nBetween Life and Death<\/a>
\nOrenna<\/a>
\nClarissa Returns<\/a>
\nTrial by Fire<\/a>
\nMark of Kane<\/a><\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Between Life And Death\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

To Lorne Greene, who gave Ben Cartwright life and breath, on the occasion of his birthday, February 12, 2009.<\/p>\n

I will never forget either of you.<\/p>\n

*********<\/p>\n

Adam Cartwright, clad in a white night shirt and black robe, stood outside on the verandah of his Sacramento home, his face turned toward the east and another place he called home.\u00a0\u00a0 The waning moon hung low in the western sky behind him, just above the horizon, and one by one the nearly all of stars had disappeared.\u00a0\u00a0 Soon, the black night sky would give way to the silver gray light of the dawning new day.<\/p>\n

For the last three nights in a row, an odd, unsettling dream had disturbed his sleep and haunted his waking hours as well.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s a woman,\u201d<\/em> Adam silently remembered, \u201ca beautiful woman . . . with long dark brown hair . . . golden brown eyes . . . and a radiant smile that brings dimples to her cheeks.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

He remembered her from fevered dreams he\u2019d had long ago, one particularly bad winter when he had fallen seriously ill, and by all accounts, had nearly died.\u00a0\u00a0 He and the woman stood together in the prow of a clipper ship, sailing over a black ocean through a night with no moon, no stars to guide the way.\u00a0\u00a0 There was no captain or crew, just he and the woman on board a ship wholly at the mercy of wind and current.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all right, Adam,\u201d the woman always whispered.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI promise you, everything\u2019s going to be all right.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 There was music in her voice, and her words of comfort and reassurance soothed his troubled spirit the same way a mother\u2019s soft lullaby soothes a restless child.<\/p>\n

After . . . was it hours?\u00a0\u00a0 Days?\u00a0\u00a0 Months, perhaps?\u00a0\u00a0 Or years?\u00a0\u00a0 . . . a dot of light would appear in the horizon, its silvery white light illuming the black sky behind it.\u00a0\u00a0 He found himself drawn to the light, yet terrified and repelled by it also. [i]<\/p>\n

Now, however, the dream had changed.<\/p>\n

The man standing alongside the beautiful woman was his father, clad in the clothing he must of worn when he served as first mate to his maternal grandfather aboard a merchant\u2019s vessel named Wanderer.<\/p>\n

Adam sighed, then turned and reentered the house through the kitchen door, wondering one minute why he dreamt of that woman again after all there years, and the next, wondering why it troubled him so much.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, Mister Cartwright,\u201d Adela Cortez greeted him politely, as he closed the kitchen door behind him.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI put a pot of coffee on.\u00a0\u00a0 It should be about ready, if you\u2019d like a cup.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, Mrs. Cortez.\u00a0\u00a0 I would like a cup very much,\u201d Adam replied.<\/p>\n

Adela Cortez was a brisk, no nonsense, very much down to earth kind of woman, short in stature and portly, aged in her mid-fifties.\u00a0\u00a0 She had been working for him and his wife, Teresa, almost from the day they had said their \u201cI do\u2019s\u201d as their housekeeper and cook, overseeing the domestic aspects of the household with a territorial despotism that rivaled Hop Sing.<\/p>\n

Adam left the kitchen, with a mug of black coffee in hand, and walked the short distance to his study\u00a0\u00a0 It was the only room in the house Adela Cortez was forbidden to clean by mutual agreement reached during that first year he and Teresa were married after a number of angry confrontations, the last of which might have actually come to physical blows had she been a man in her prime instead of a woman old enough to be his own mother.\u00a0\u00a0 He sat down before his secretary, placed up against the wall to the right of the door, set his coffee mug down, and reached for a sheet of stationary and pen.<\/p>\n

\u201cDear Pa . . . . \u201d<\/em> he wrote, \u201cI hope this letter finds you and the rest of the family well . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ben found himself standing in the midst of the tiny churchyard, where his beloved wife, Elizabeth, had been laid to rest three days after giving birth to their only child . . . a son, whom she insisted they name Adam.\u00a0\u00a0 He wore his very best suit, the gray one with the silver vest, a clean, well-pressed white shirt, black string tie, and black boots, polished to a high, glossy shine.\u00a0\u00a0 He carried a black Stetson in one hand, and a single deep red rose, surrounded by dainty white baby\u2019s breath in the other.<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cElizabeth?\u201d he ventured hesitantly, his voice barely above that of a whisper.<\/em><\/p>\n

A gentle breeze began to stir, as if in response, carrying upon it the subtle scents of lemon verbena and rose water. \u00a0<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cElizabeth . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cHere, My Darling . . . . \u201d<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

His heart quickened upon hearing the music of that much loved voice after nearly four decades.\u00a0\u00a0 He turned and began weaving his way through the forest of carved marble and granite.<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Memories, visions of another time . . . another life . . . began to appear in the eyes of his inward sight, one after the other after the other . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

. . . of a young woman, running down to the docks, laughing, with her long dark brown hair streaming behind her, and those golden brown eyes aglow with sheer delight upon seeing her father and him, the two men she loved most in this whole wide world . . . .<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

. . . those same golden brown eyes shining bright with unshed tears, her smile tremulous the day he asked her to marry him . . . .<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

. . . and the sight of her, through his own eyes now swimming with happy tears, walking down the aisle of the church along side her father, dressed in her mother\u2019s wedding gown . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

His foot caught on the exposed root of the oak tree that had grown up near the graves of Elizabeth Stoddard Cartwright and her parents, Abel and Rebekkah.\u00a0\u00a0 He stumbled and fell to his hands and knees.<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cHello, Ben . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

He lifted his head slowly, fearfully, praying that she wouldn\u2019t up and vanish in a puff of smoke or bright flash of light as she had in countless dreams over the ensuing years since her death.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201c . . . I\u2019ve been waiting for you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

She was as he remembered her.\u00a0\u00a0 Young, beautiful, with that thick luxurious dark brown hair, those golden brown eyes, mirrors of a highly intelligent soul, full of life, aglow with the same warmth he felt from time to time emanating from that special place in his heart that would always be reserved just for her.\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cElizabeth . . . . \u201d Ben whispered, his heart full to near bursting with great joy and a terrible agony, the like of which he had never known.\u00a0\u00a0 He scrambled to his feet with all the agility and energy of a man less than half his age, and ran to her, laughing uproariously with tears streaming down his cheeks.\u00a0\u00a0 He caught her up in his arms, twirled her around, then held her close.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh, Elizabeth . . . Elizabeth . . . my darling,\u201d he whispered, \u201cnot a day\u2019s gone by that I\u2019ve not thought of y-you, and . . . and remembered . . . . \u201d<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI love you, Ben,\u201d she murmured softly, over and over, as he clung to her, and wept, \u201cthough the time we had together was all too brief, I cherish it, My Love . . . My Darling . . . and I always will.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Their lips brushed together in the merest whisper of a kiss.\u00a0\u00a0 Though Ben meant for the next kiss to be gentle, it immediately deepened, growing more and more passionate, until they found themselves clinging desperately to one another, weeping, kissing each other ardently, repeatedly, over and over and over, like the long lost lovers they truly were . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cElizabeth . . . . \u201d Ben murmured softly, his voice hoarse, barely audible, \u201cmy beautiful Elizabeth . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . so . . . much . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cElizabeth?\u201d Doctor Paul Martin queried, casting an anxious, professional eye at his patient, now lying buried under several layers of bedclothes, near comatose with a raging fever.<\/p>\n

\u201cFirst wife,\u201d Hop Sing said, as he dipped the cloth in hand into a bowl of water, mixed with medicinal herbs, and bathed the face of the big, silver haired man he loved and respected every bit as much as he did his own father, Hop Ling.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMister Adam mama.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sawbones exhaled a soft, melancholy sigh as he rose from the hard backed chair placed alongside the bed.\u00a0\u00a0 Ben\u2019s two younger sons, his daughter, and Hop Sing reported they had heard him either calling for his first wife, or conversing with her for the better part of the last three days now.\u00a0\u00a0 Speaking with deceased loved ones was a common occurrence among patients sick as Ben was now, but years of experience told Paul Martin such was rarely a good sign.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Doctor Martin stepped out of the downstairs bedroom with a heavy heart, quietly closing the door behind him, as the grandfather\u2019s clock beside the front door struck the quarter hour past four in the morning.\u00a0\u00a0 He paused for a moment, with head bowed to gather his thoughts, before turning to face the family seated together around the fireplace on the other side of the great room, anxiously waiting.<\/p>\n

They rose to their feet slowly, as the doctor approached . . . Hoss first, then Joe, and finally Stacy.\u00a0\u00a0 Joe still wore the clothing he had donned in haste when Hoss sent him to town to fetch the doctor shortly before midnight, while the other two were clad in night shirts, robes, and slippers.\u00a0\u00a0 The boys\u2019 faces were a few shades paler than was the norm, and Stacy\u2019s was nearly white as a sheet.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s feverish, drifting in and out of consciousness,\u201d Paul said wearily, choosing his words very carefully, all the while silently, desperately beseeching the One he knew as Lord, Creator, and Loving Father of all . . . if a gentle, easy way of telling an anxious, loving family there was an excellent chance their father wouldn\u2019t live through the new day about to dawn existed . . . he would sure appreciate knowing what it was.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoctor Martin, is Pa gonna be all right?\u201d Stacy impatiently cut right to the heart of the matter, while unconsciously twisting and untwisting the end of the belt holding her robe closed.<\/p>\n

\u201cStacy, I wish more than just about anything I could give you a definite answer\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c . . . and just what the hell\u2019s THAT supposed to mean?!\u201d Stacy demanded, giving vent to all the fear, anger, and grief that had been growing within her since Hoss made the decision to summon the doctor.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Kiddo . . . take it easy,\u201d Joe said quietly, as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d Stacy murmured sullenly, her voice barely audible.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo apologies necessary, Stacy,\u201d Paul said kindly.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI . . . understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoc?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s gonna happen NOW?\u201d the big man asked, in as calm and as steady a voice as he could muster.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf things keep on as I expect they will, he\u2019ll reach a crisis point sometime, I think, within the next three or four hours,\u201d Paul replied.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIf his fever breaks . . .\u00a0 his chances of making a full, complete recovery are very good, given the proper rest and care.\u00a0\u00a0 If not . . . . \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 His voice trailed away to ominous silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh NO!\u201d Stacy cried out.\u00a0\u00a0 She balled her hands into a pair of tight fists to quell their trembling.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDoctor M-Martin, are you . . . are y-you saying that Pa . . . that . . . Pa m-might\u2014?!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 She abruptly broke off, unable and unwilling to bring herself to complete that dire thought.<\/p>\n

\u201cStacy, I\u2019m afraid the truth of the matter is . . . right now, I<\/strong> just plain and simply don\u2019t know,\u201d the doctor responded to the question she left unspoken, his heart going out to all of them.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAll I CAN say for certain is that I\u2019ve done all that I\u2019m able.\u00a0\u00a0 The rest up to God . . . AND up to your pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs there anything WE do in the meantime?\u201d Joe asked.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAnything at ALL?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe best thing you can do right now is pray,\u201d Paul said bluntly.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cApart from that, keep on applying those cold compresses.\u00a0\u00a0 That might keep his fever from spiking too high . . . and try to get as much liquid in him as you can.\u00a0\u00a0 Water . . . weak tea . . . broth . . . even a little bit of watered down whiskey or brandy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss, Joe, and Stacy nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomeone should be with him at all times, until the crisis is past,\u201d Paul continued.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIf one of you would be kind enough to stay with him long enough for me to grab a nap for a couple of hours, I\u2019d\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoc, you\u2019ve gotta be pretty tuckered out right now yourself,\u201d Hoss said quietly, \u201cwhat with comin\u2019 out here \u2018n seein\u2019 to Pa, Mister Hansen\u2019s broken leg, and Annie Wilkins givin\u2019 birth to twins last night.\u00a0\u00a0 Since you\u2019re stayin\u2019 the night here anyhow . . . why don\u2019t you g\u2019won to the guest room upstairs, \u2018n try t\u2019 get what ya can of a good night\u2019s sleep.\u00a0\u00a0 Joe, Hop Sing, \u2018n me can tend t\u2019 Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c . . . and me, too, Hoss,\u201d Stacy insisted, her voice tremulous.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf COURSE you, too, Kiddo,\u201d Joe hastened to assure.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou betcha!\u201d Hoss agreed.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt would appear that Ben\u2019s in good hands,\u201d Paul declared with a weary smile and a big yawn.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAlright, Hoss . . . I\u2019ll take you up on your offer, but I want you . . . ALL of you . . . . \u201d he turned and took in Joe and Stacy with his gaze, \u201cto promise me you\u2019ll come and wake me immediately, if his fever suddenly spikes, or if he goes into convulsions.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe will,\u201d Hoss promised.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cJoe, why don\u2019t you see the doc upstairs— \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo need,\u201d Paul said immediately.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI know the way.\u00a0\u00a0 You g\u2019won . . . look after your pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s hurt, Ben.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

As he gently bathed Ben\u2019s face with water and the herbal mix he used to treat fever, Hop Sing heard a voice echo in his ears . . . a voice that had gone silent almost twenty-one years ago now when she fell from a spirited mare and died not twenty-five feet from the front door of this house.<\/p>\n

\u201cJohn-town,\u201d Hop Sing murmured softly, barely aware that he had spoken aloud.\u00a0\u00a0 He dipped the cloth back into the bowl and wrung out the excess moisture.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLong time since Hop Sing think of John-town . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n

Johntown wasn\u2019t really a town at all, just a collection of squalid half fallen down lean-tos and shacks up the canyon from a small mining town called Dayton, a place set aside for the \u201cheathen Chinee.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Hop Sing and his countrymen accepted their living conditions and forced segregation from their fellow man as a given without complaint.<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0 It was the way things were in this new land they had chosen to call home, and that plain and simply was that.\u00a0\u00a0 Every now and then, however, after spending the better part of Saturday night and their pay on stale beer and rot-gut whiskey, a band of drunken miners came up from Dayton to wreck havoc, just for the sheer hell of it.<\/em><\/p>\n

Hop Sing closed his eyes and for a moment found himself back in Johntown lying in the mud on his back, barely conscious, his head still pounding in time with a pair massive, boulder sized fists that had just moments ago pounded his face again, and again, and again . . . .<\/p>\n

Those fists belonged to a miner known among the community over in Dayton as Black Jack Haggerty.\u00a0\u00a0 He was a big man, standing nearly six and a half feet tall, weighing in at nearly two hundred and fifty pounds . . . all of it pure, iron hard muscle.\u00a0\u00a0 He was a mean, angry, bitter man when sober.\u00a0 After consuming a mere two or three beers, all the anger and bitterness Black Jack carried inside him began to turn vicious and cruel.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Hop Sing couldn\u2019t see Black Jack, but he nonetheless felt the man\u2019s massive form towering high above him.\u00a0\u00a0 His mind, his body, every instinct he had for survival and self preservation screamed at him to rise, to flee as fast as he could.\u00a0\u00a0 But with one eye already swollen shut and the other near so, his jaw broken, and ankle badly sprained when he slipped and fell in the mud the first time he tried to escape the wrath of Black Jack Haggerty and his gang of bullying, drunken misfits . . . escape was impossible.\u00a0\u00a0 His only chance was to lie as still as he possibly could in the hope that Black Jack and his men would believe him to be unconscious . . . or dead . . . and move on.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cGed-dup!\u201d Black Jack snarled, slurring his words.\u00a0\u00a0 A string of racial slurs followed, words Hop Sing barely understood then, but had come to understand only too well since.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou ged-dup, y\u2019 . . . y\u2019 yella bellied coward!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>This last had drawn a smattering of mirthless laughter from some of Black Jack\u2019s cronies.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cYou ged-dup \u2018n face me . . . like a man.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cMaybe he\u2019s dead,\u201d one of the other miners suggested.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Hop Sing groaned, despite all of his best intentions, when he felt Black Jack\u2019s heavy boot slam into his rib cage.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cNaw . . . he ain\u2019t dead,\u201d Black Jack drunkenly proclaimed, then kicked him again, harder.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Hop Sing felt his ribs cracking under the impact of Black Jack\u2019s boot.\u00a0\u00a0 He bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood in order to keep himself from crying out . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cHe\u2019s hurt, Ben . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>The next thing Hop Sing remembered was a woman\u2019s voice, filled with urgency, deep concern, and rage just kindled.\u00a0 He slitted one eye open . . . the one not already swollen shut, and through blurred vision, barely made out the lines of a woman\u2019s face looking down into his own.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201c . . . he needs a doctor.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cI\u2019ll get him into the buggy,\u201d a strong, deep voice replied, filled with the same things Hop Sing had heard in the woman\u2019s voice.\u00a0\u00a0 It belonged to the man he would come to know as Ben Cartwright, Number One Boss Man of the Ponderosa.\u00a0 \u201cI know a man in Dayton— \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cNow I ask ya . . . . \u201d\u00a0 a voice high above their heads drawled.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Hop Sing inwardly cringed.\u00a0 It was Black Jack Haggerty.\u00a0\u00a0 He could hear the man\u2019s footsteps in the mud, as he strutted amongst his cronies, like as not, with all the cocksure confidence of a rutting bantam rooster.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou gents happen t\u2019 know uva doc . . . any doc at all, worthy o\u2019 bein\u2019 called such . . . who\u2019d even TOUCH a heathen Chi-nee, \u2018cept maybe t\u2019 spit on \u2018im?\u201d \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m taking this man to a doctor,\u201d Mister Cartwright stated in a quiet voice, that carried within it all of the uneasy calm just before the unleashing of a violent thunder storm.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201c\u00a0 . . . \u2018n <\/em>I<\/em><\/strong> say y\u2019 ain\u2019t,\u201d Black Jack growled.\u00a0 Hop Sing felt the heavy weight of Black Jack\u2019s boot on his chest, pressing down ever so slightly for emphasis.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cMove your foot, Mister.\u00a0\u00a0 NOW,\u201d Mister Cartwright ordered in that same quiet tone of voice..<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cWho\u2019s gonna make me?\u201d Black Jack spat contemptuously.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou?!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cIf I hafta.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Hop Sing heard the other miners muttering uneasily among themselves, because in all likelihood, this was the first time anyone ever stood up to Black Jack Haggerty.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI already told ya . . . no decent self respectin\u2019 sawbones is gonna so much as look him, let alone try \u2018n fix him,\u201d Black Jack ranted.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHell!\u00a0\u00a0 They won\u2019t even letcha bring him into Dayton.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cThat a fact,\u201d Mister Cartwright responded, his voice filled with sarcasm and doubt.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cYou callin\u2019 me a liar, Mister?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cIf the shoe fits\u2014 \u201d \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Hop Sing heard the woman scream, followed an instant later by the sound of fist connecting very solidly with flesh.\u00a0\u00a0 He forced his \u201cgood\u201d eye open as wide as it could go, and saw Black Jack literally doubled over, with both arms wrapped protectively around his abdomen, gasping in pain, astonishment, and outrage.\u00a0\u00a0 His eyes, tiny pig-like slits in the normal course of things, were nearly as big and as round as his open gaping mouth.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Before Mister Cartwright could even think of pressing his advantage, Hop Sing saw a pair of arms, thin, wiry, and well muscled, encircling him, pinning his arms to his side, effectively rendering him helpless.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI got \u2018im, Black Jack,\u201d the thin, wiry man babbled, \u201cI got \u2018im!\u00a0\u00a0 I got \u2018im real good!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cGood goin\u2019, Tim,\u201d Black Jack murmured, turning a baleful glare upon his antagonist.\u00a0 \u201cYou hold on t\u2019 \u2018im, y\u2019 hear?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Hop Sing watched with fast sinking heart as Black Jack half way straightened, and keeping one arm tight around his abdomen, pulled back the other with the intention of striking the man, his cohort held, square in the face.\u00a0\u00a0 Mister Cartwright gritted his teeth and slammed the heel of his boot down with all his might into the instep belonging to the miner Black Jack had just addressed as Tim.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Hop Sing heard Tim cry out, then saw him double over when the man he had securely pinned less than a moment before, followed through with a powerful elbow jab to the stomach.\u00a0 Mister Cartwright barely dodged Black Jack\u2019s intended blow, and Hop Sing couldn\u2019t help but wince upon seeing the big miner\u2019s fist hammer into Tim\u2019s face.\u00a0\u00a0 Mister Cartwright, then, very quickly ducked his head, and rammed Black Jack in the abdomen in manner very like a raging bull.\u00a0\u00a0 The big miner stumbled backwards a few steps, before slipping in the mud and landing ignobly on his rump. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Mister Cartwright, seething now with raw fury, seized Tim by the back of his collar, and dragged him over toward the spot where Black Jack still remained, shaking his head vigorously.\u00a0 With his free hand, Mister Cartwright grabbed the back of Black Jack\u2019s collar, and roughly hauled him to his feet.\u00a0\u00a0 He brought the heads of both miners together with a loud, resounding crack, then dropped both of them like a pair of proverbial hot potatoes, grimacing as if he had just gotten through handling something incredibly soft and slimy.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cI\u2019m taking this man to a doctor,\u201d Mister Cartwright stated again, directing a murderous glare at Black Jack\u2019s remaining cronies, all of whom had begun to slowly back away. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Confident there would be no further interference, Mister Cartwright lifted him into his arms, with a gentleness that surprised Hop Song, and strode resolutely toward his buggy.\u00a0\u00a0 The woman, who Hop Sing would come to know as Ben Cartwright\u2019s wife, Marie, followed close behind, her eyes, her face shining with pride.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>The Cartwrights left Hop Sing in the care of Doctor Isaac Grimwald, a kind and compassionate man, who had served as doctor on the mission field in China.\u00a0\u00a0 Unlike many of his fellow missionaries, he had come away with a deep abiding love and respect for the Chinese people, their history, and culture.\u00a0\u00a0 Hop Sing stayed with the kindly Doctor Grimwald, until the worst of his injuries had begun to heal, working as he was able . . . when he was able . . . over and above the sawbones\u2019 protestations that he rest . . . to pay off the debt he felt he owed the good doctor.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>But there yet remained another, larger debt to pay . . . . \u00a0\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Roughly six months later, Hop Sing showed up at the house one evening, unannounced and uninvited, with little more than the clothes on his back.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI . . . Hop Sing,\u201d he said by way of introduction.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHop Sing work . . . pay debt.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>There had never been mention of any salary . . . although Mister Cartwright insisted upon paying him very generously . . . nor had there ever been any discussion of terms.\u00a0\u00a0 Hop Sing took up residence in the Cartwright kitchen, where he would remain for many years to come, becoming a much loved member of the family he had adopted . . . . [ii]<\/em><\/p>\n

The sound of the door opening drew Hop Sing from memories of times past back to the present.\u00a0\u00a0 He turned just as Hoss entered the room, with Joe and Stacy following close behind.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere doctor go?\u201d Hop Sing asked, as he wearily dropped his cloth into the near empty bowl set on the small table beside the bed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI sent him t\u2019 the bedroom upstairs t\u2019 get what he can of a good night\u2019s rest,\u201d Hoss replied.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHe . . . told us t\u2019 wake him if\u2019n we . . . if we find out we need him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood.\u00a0\u00a0 That very good,\u201d Hop Sing said approvingly.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMiss Stacy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Hop Sing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNeed more herb mix . . . remedy for fever,\u201d Hop Sing said, as he picked up the empty bowl and handed it to her.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cFind more in big pot on back of stove.\u00a0\u00a0 You remember how Hop Sing say to fix?\u201d<\/p>\n

Stacy nodded.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOne part of your fever remedy to four parts water?\u201d she ventured.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat exactly right,\u201d Hop Sing replied, favoring the girl with what he hoped to be a reassuring, if weary smile.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLittle Joe . . . kindling box by stove low,\u201d he continued, after Stacy had left the room, \u201cneed more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight,\u201d Joe murmured softly . . . .<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cHoly Mary . . . Mother of God,\u201d Joe prayed softly, for . . . he had stopped counting after about the first half dozen times.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI turn to you . . . for protection . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n

His thoughts drifted to a little boy, aged four, with emerald green eyes and a mop of unruly chestnut curls, hiding in the deep shadows in the hall just outside the open door to his parents\u2019 room, listening to his mother say that very same prayer.\u00a0\u00a0 It was among the precious few memories he had of the mother, who had died very suddenly not long after he turned five, that he could honestly and truly call his own.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease . . . listen to my prayers . . . and help us in our needs, right now . . . for Pa most especially,\u201d Joe continued.\u00a0\u00a0 A note of desperation began to creep into his voice as a stillness, not of this world began to fall over him and the world around him in manner not unlike the way tiny flakes of snow blanket a landscape.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cPlease . . . please,\u201d he begged, \u201csee Pa safely . . . through the crisis ahead . . . and protect him now . . . from every danger . . . O, glorious and blessed Virgin.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shivered upon feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.\u00a0\u00a0 He paused in his work and in his prayers just long enough to cast a quick, furtive glance over his shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoly Mary . . . Mother of God . . . I turn to you . . . for protection.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 As Joe began the prayer once again, he thought he caught the scent of a woman\u2019s perfume mixed with the scents of earth and pine.\u00a0\u00a0 Jasmine, he realized.\u00a0\u00a0 The scent Julia Bulette once favored . . . and someone else . . . .<\/p>\n

His mother.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease listen . . . to my prayers . . . . \u201d he continued with an uneasy frown.\u00a0\u00a0 Was he simply going out of his mind with worry and concern for Pa?\u00a0\u00a0 Or did he actually hear the voice of his mother praying along with him?\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cPlease, listen to my prayers,\u201d he picked up the prayer once again . . . .<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201c . . . and help us in our needs.\u00a0\u00a0 Protect us from every danger, O Glorious and Blessed Virgin.\u00a0\u00a0 Amen.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Ben stood at the threshold between his bedroom and the dark hallway beyond, watching his beloved Marie slowly, yet with deliberate precision, cross herself, and gently kiss the Crucifix of the rosary intertwined between her long, elegant fingers.\u00a0\u00a0 He accepted her presence here as a given, despite the voices raging in his head, adamantly insisting, \u201cNo!\u00a0\u00a0 Impossible!\u00a0\u00a0 This can\u2019t be . . . this simply . . . can\u2019t . . . be!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He waited until she had placed her rosary back down on the low table that served as her own private altar, and rose to her feet.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cMarie?\u201d he queried, his soft voice gently caressing each syllable of her name.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Marie tuned, and smiling, held out her hand . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

. . . they stood at amid the tall trees overlooking the dark waters of the lake spread out before them, wrapped tight in each others arms.\u00a0\u00a0 Smiling, Ben bent down and gently kissed the crown of the head resting lightly against his chest.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cI\u2019ve missed you, My Darling . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Marie raised her head and pulled away just enough so that she might look him in the face.\u00a0 \u201c . . . and I\u2019VE missed YOU.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>They kissed once, then again. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Ben greedily savored the warmth of her body pressed close to his own, the gentle weight of her head coming to rest once again upon his chest, the faint scent of jasmine, her soft, silky golden brown hair beneath his fingers.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMarie . . . don\u2019t leave me, My Love . . . please . . . promise me you won\u2019t ever leave me again . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>She lifted her head once more and for a moment gazed into his dark brown eyes with longing.\u00a0 \u201cI WANT to stay, My Love.\u00a0\u00a0 More than anything in this world or the next, I wish I could stay,\u201d she said, her voice filled with sadness and deep regret, as she reached up and gently smoothed back an unruly lock of hair that had fallen down into his face, \u201cbut I must leave come the light.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201cMarie, NO!\u201d Ben cried out in anguish, hugging her closer.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNow that I\u2019ve found you again, I . . . I can\u2019t bear to let you go.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hop Sing muttered a long string of colorful invectives in his native language, his voice filled with deep concern and anguish, as he placed his hand down upon Ben Cartwright\u2019s forehead.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo good,\u201d he muttered again, this time in English, wagging his head back and forth.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cFever go up.\u00a0\u00a0 No good.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHop Sing?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 It was Stacy.\u00a0\u00a0 She entered the room carrying another bowl, the third . . . or was it the fourth? of water mixed with a double dose of Hop Sing\u2019s herbal remedy for fever.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat\u2019s no good?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFever remedy,\u201d Hop Sing replied.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNot working.\u00a0\u00a0 Mister Cartwright fever go up.\u201d<\/p>\n

All of a sudden, Stacy felt very light headed.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh no,\u201d she groaned softly.<\/p>\n

Hop Sing took the bowl from her, half afraid she was going to drop it, given her pale face and round, staring eyes.\u00a0\u00a0 He steered her toward the hard backed chair beside the bed and gently sat her down.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMiss Stacy, you stay here.\u00a0\u00a0 With Papa.\u00a0\u00a0 Hop Sing take fever remedy back to kitchen, get alcohol.\u00a0\u00a0 Maybe rub down with alcohol bring fever down.\u00a0\u00a0 Where Mister Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the kitchen making up another pot of coffee,\u201d Stacy replied and she reached out and seized hold of Ben\u2019s limp hand . . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cStacy?\u00a0\u00a0 Stacy, wake up . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Stacy heard Pa\u2019s voice . . . the night of the day a monster from the deepest blackest pits of hell named Vivian Crawleigh arrived at Fort Charlotte to take her to an orphanage and foundling home somewhere out in Ohio.\u00a0\u00a0 She shuddered.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all right, Stacy . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Pa\u2019s deep reassuring voice spoke to her from the places within her heart, as he did that night.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all right.\u00a0\u00a0 You were having a bad dream . . . . \u201d \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

She had no idea in the world then that Ben Cartwright, and his sons, Hoss and Joe, were in fact her real family.\u00a0\u00a0 She had only met them a scant two days before.\u00a0\u00a0 Yet, Stacy instinctively knew that the big, silver haired man who had come to her that night was a kind, loving man, someone she could trust.\u00a0\u00a0 She threw herself into the protective circle of his arms and clung for dear life.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all right, Stacy . . . it\u2019s all right,\u201d he whispered softly, as he pulled her closer and held on very tight.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m here . . . I\u2019m right here.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cD-Don\u2019t leave m-me . . . please . . . please don\u2019t l-leave me . . . . \u201d\u00a0 she sobbed softly.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cShhh . . . it\u2019s all right . . . it\u2019s all right.\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019m not going anywhere.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 His words, his deep quiet voice reassured her and had begun to still her fear.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m going to stay right here . . . with you . . . for as long as you want me.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cMister.\u00a0\u00a0 Cartwright.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Stacy cringed upon hearing Vivian Crawleigh\u2019s voice.\u00a0\u00a0 With a cry of alarm she buried her head against Pa\u2019s chest, gripping his jacket so tightly, her knuckles turned a bloodless white. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cMister Cartwright, WHAT do you think you\u2019re <\/em>DOING<\/em><\/strong>?!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all right, Mrs. Crawleigh . . . . \u201d\u00a0 Pa replied.\u00a0\u00a0 She could feel his entire body tensing.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cStacy had a nightmare that\u2019s left her shaken up, but she\u2019ll be all right.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cNot if you cater to her every time she screams.\u201d\u00a0 Mrs. Crawleigh\u2019s voice dripped with icicles.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cC-Cater to her?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a bid to get attention,\u201d Mrs. Crawleigh informed him in a lofty, condescending tone.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAs long as you keep rushing in here every time she screams, she\u2019s going to keep right on throwing these temper tantrums in the middle of the night.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cM-Mrs. Crawleigh, you mean to tell me . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cExactly right!\u00a0\u00a0 When she screams, I<\/strong> just let her scream,\u201d Vivian declared with an emphatic nod of her head.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIf she keeps it up long enough, I\u2019ll come in and give her attention . . . in the form of a good, sound whipping with my cane.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t you see this poor child is frightened?!\u201d\u00a0 Pa demanded, as his initial shock and horror began to give way to rising anger.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI think you\u2019d better leave.\u00a0 \u00a0Now.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cGladly,\u201d Pa growled back.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Stacy whimpered, \u201cMister Cartwright, please . . . please, don\u2019t leave me.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0T<\/em>he look on his face, filled with love, compassion, and genuine concern, was one she would in years to come see often, usually during the times when she needed him most.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m not going to leave you, Little Gal,\u201d Pa reassured her, as he gathered her up in his arms, along with her bed clothes, and pillow.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m taking you with me.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI hardly think this is proper,\u201d Mrs. Crawleigh protested.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201c . . . and <\/em>I<\/em><\/strong> hardly think it proper to beat a sad, frightened, lonely child . . . just because she wakes up out of a nightmare in the middle of the night crying out for someone to come and reassure her . . . to let her know she\u2019s safe and . . . and loved\u2014 \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Pa abruptly broke off, and strode from the room, with her clasped tight in his arms.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cPa . . . . \u201d Stacy ventured, blinking against the acrid stinging of new tears forming in her eyes.\u00a0\u00a0 She clasped his hand tightly in both of her own.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou didn\u2019t leave me at Fort Charlotte to . . . to the m-mercies of that . . . that monster from hell.\u00a0\u00a0 Please . . . PLEASE . . . don\u2019t leave me NOW . . . I love you, Pa, and I . . . I still need you.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Joe dumped the fifth and last armload of kindling into the box that Hop Sing kept near the stove with a big yawn.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThere,\u201d he declared, yawning once again.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThat should hold Hop Sing awhile . . . \u2018n I\u2019ve got more stacked up outside.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Joe . . . you all right?\u201d Hoss queried, eyeing his younger brother with an anxious frown.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou kinda look like you\u2019ve just seen a ghost.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDooo-oooohhhh-n\u2019t SAY that!\u201d Joe protested with a shudder.<\/p>\n

Hoss grabbed a potholder and lifted the coffee pot from the stove and poured a generous mug full.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHere.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He thrust the mug into Joe\u2019s hands, then gently steered him over toward the kitchen table.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d Joe mumbled very softly as he pulled out one of the chairs and fell onto the seat with a dull, heavy thud.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou . . . ok?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah . . . oh, heck, I dunno,\u201d Joe replied with a doleful sigh.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cBetween being tired as all get out \u2018n worried sick about Pa, I\u2019m of the mind that maybe the ol\u2019 imagination\u2019s working a mite overtime.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He took a tentative sip from the mug before him and grimaced.<\/p>\n

Hoss set the creamer and sugar bowl on the table before Joe, then handed him a spoon.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d Joe murmured, as he shoveled a generous spoonful of sugar into his coffee.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you\u2019re tired, y\u2019 COULD stretch out on the settee, or better yet . . . g\u2019won up t\u2019 bed,\u201d Hoss suggested.\u00a0\u00a0 He grabbed another mug and poured out a cup of coffee for himself.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ll wake ya . . . if . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shook his head.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIf I went up to bed now, I just KNOW I\u2019d be lying there, staring at the ceiling,\u201d he sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cMister Hoss!\u00a0\u00a0 Mister Hoss!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Hop Sing barreled into the kitchen, slamming the door hard against the adjacent wall.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s up, Hop Sing?\u201d Hoss queried with sinking heart.\u00a0\u00a0 The urgency he heard in the Chinese man\u2019s voice couldn\u2019t possibly bode well.<\/p>\n

\u201cPapa fever go up,\u201d Hop Sing explained.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHop Sing rub down with alcohol.\u00a0\u00a0 Need Mister Hoss to help.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss and Joe exchanged troubled glances.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou, uhhh . . . want me to g\u2019won up \u2018n wake the doc?\u201d the latter asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot yet,\u201d Hop Sing replied, \u201ctry alcohol rub first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s do it, Hop Sing,\u201d Hoss said grimly.<\/p>\n

After Hoss had left the kitchen with Hop Sing, Joe poured a little cream into his coffee, then stirred slowly as his thoughts drifted back to a troubled, angry time in his life . . . .<\/p>\n

He was clear up to his neck in hot water.\u00a0\u00a0 He knew it the instant he walked into the house and saw his brothers seated, eying him with \u201cthat\u201d look, and his pa standing in their midst, his back ramrod straight like a major general\u2019s, very pointedly glancing at his watch.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d like to know what happened in town this afternoon,\u201d Pa began, speaking in that certain bell-like tone that demanded answers.\u00a0\u00a0 Now.<\/em><\/p>\n

Joe shrugged, outwardly indifferent, all the while wondering what Hoss and Adam had told Pa about that slugfest between him and Dave Donavan at the Bucket of Blood Saloon.\u00a0 \u201cNothing happened,\u201d he replied.\u00a0\u00a0 Try as he might, he just couldn\u2019t quite bring himself to look Pa straight in the eye.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI was just having a little fun, that\u2019s all . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t like the idea of a son of mine brawling around town like a drunken cowboy,\u201d Pa said stiffly.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cPa, I WASN\u2019T drunk and I WASN\u2019T brawling,\u201d Joe hotly defended himself.\u00a0\u00a0 He, then, turned angrily upon his two older brothers.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIf you two are gonna tell it, why don\u2019t you tell it straight?\u201d he demanded.<\/em><\/p>\n

One thing led to another, until Pa, exasperated and angry, ordered them upstairs to bed.\u00a0\u00a0 Joe fell in step behind Adam and Hoss, feeling a measure of relief that the whole conversation over what happened in town that day appeared to be at an end.\u00a0 \u00a0His relief was very short lived.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cNot YOU, Joseph,\u201d Pa said curtly, just as he reached the bottom of the stairs.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI wanna talk to YOU.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He waited until Adam and Hoss had disappeared into the deep shadows of the hallway upstairs, and he had heard the sound of their respective bedroom doors closing.\u00a0 \u201cNow what\u2019s this all about?\u201d Pa demanded.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYou know what I mean,\u201d Pa immediately responded.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019ve been spending quite a lot of time away from the Ponderosa lately,\u201d he continued in tone of voice more kindly.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019d like to know why.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t I have some fun without the whole family jumping on me?!\u201d Joe demanded.\u00a0\u00a0 He loved his pa and brothers dearly, but sometimes it WOULD be nice to be able to do WHAT he wanted, WHEN he wanted to do it, in whatever manner that pleased him, without having to answer to anyone for it like his new friend, Dave Donavan.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m NOT jumping on you,\u201d Pa said curtly.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI think everyone should have a little fun . . . but at the proper times and with the proper companions.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was troubling me had nothing to do with having fun . . . keeping questionable company . . . or even the time I spent away from the Ponderosa, not pulling my share of the load,\u201d Joe mused, hardly aware that he had just spoken out loud.\u00a0\u00a0 His lips curved upward, forming an amused smile.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDidn\u2019t take Pa long to get to what WAS troubling me, though . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa,\u201d he finally demanded, angry and exasperated, yes, but there was a pleading note there as well, \u201chow can I prove I\u2019m good at ANYTHING by myself?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cJoe . . . you don\u2019t hafta prove anything to US,\u201d Pa immediately returned, with the intent of offering reassurance.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not trying to prove myself to YOU, Pa . . . I\u2019m trying to prove myself to ME!\u201d Joe earnestly, passionately countered. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it you\u2019re trying to prove?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Joe sighed, completely frustrated, yet desperately needing to somehow make PA understand . . . and perhaps more important, make himself understand as well.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhether I\u2019m good enough, whether I\u2019m old enough, or whether I\u2019m smart enough to do something BY MYSELF<\/strong> without three people waiting there to help me every time I stub my toe.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

For a moment, he felt like the most ungrateful wretch that ever had the misfortune of gracing this world, but much to his amazement . . . Pa didn\u2019t see it that way at all.\u00a0\u00a0 Miracle or miracles . . . Pa actually understood.<\/em><\/p>\n

After Pa had gone up to bed, his attention turned again to the map lying on the table in the great room.\u00a0\u00a0 It had caught his eye for a moment after the heart-to-heart talk between him and his father had come to an end.\u00a0\u00a0 The locations of a mine, newly opened, and that strand of fir above Buckhorn Meadow were circled. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Joe know that the Sun Mountain Company had acquired the rights to work that mine and had requested bids on a contract to supply the necessary timbering.\u00a0\u00a0 The contract called for fir.\u00a0\u00a0 Though the Ponderosa had plenty of wood from the pine trees for which she had been named, the only strand of fir that could be used to fulfill that contract was above Buckhorn Meadow.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cPa WANTED to bid on that job,\u201d<\/em> Joe silently ruminated,\u201c in just about the worst way, too, especially since it looked like ol\u2019 Will Poavey had that contract in the bag.\u201d<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0 The look on Pa\u2019s face then brought a smile to his own, as he took another sip from a coffee mug now half empty.\u00a0\u00a0 Though a good ten miles closer to that mine than anything Will Poavey could have supplied, that ten miles difference went straight up and down, according to Adam.\u00a0\u00a0 It would be impossible to get that timber down to the mine.<\/p>\n

Joe chuckled softly.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHmpf!\u00a0\u00a0 Maybe THAT was the motivation I needed . . . to do something ol\u2019 Adam decreed was impossible.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

When Pa came down the next morning, Joe was seated behind the desk where he had spent the entire night working out a way to get the timber from that strand above Buckhorn Meadow to the mine, and figuring up the costs involved. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the most papers I\u2019ve seen you with since you was in school,\u201d Joe remembered Hoss saying when he and Adam came down a few minutes behind Pa the following morning.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cJoe\u2019s decided he\u2019s gonna bid on that Sun Mountain contract for us,\u201d Pa informed them.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about Will Poavey?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll underbid him by plenty and STILL turn a good profit,\u201d he declared with confidence.<\/em><\/p>\n

His brothers might have been a tad skeptical, but they were full of advice, and offers to help . . . much to his annoyance.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t need any help,\u201d Joe said curtly.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNow look!\u00a0\u00a0 This is MY idea, MY job, and I want to do it BY MYSELF<\/strong>.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cJoe?\u00a0\u00a0 Come here,\u201d Pa quietly beckoned, after Hoss and Adam had gone on out to the dining room.<\/em><\/p>\n

Joe walked over to the open kindling box next to the fireplace, where Pa stood holding four thin sticks of wood.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI want you to do something for me . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah?\u00a0\u00a0 What\u2019s that?\u201d Joe asked, curious.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cBreak these,\u201d Pa replied, handing him the four sticks of kindling wood.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cBreak these?!\u201d Joe echoed, not quite believing.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAlright . . . . \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He thought sure it would be an easy task.\u00a0\u00a0 He tried once, then again harder.\u00a0\u00a0 They remained intact in spite of his efforts, in spite of all his grunting and groaning.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHuh!\u00a0\u00a0 You wouldn\u2019t think they\u2019d . . . . \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Bound and determined to break that bundle of sticks, he gritted his teeth and this time exerted all of his strength.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHol-leee . . . .\u00a0 I can\u2019t do it, Pa,\u201d he finally and reluctantly admitted defeat.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d Pa said.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIf you\u2019re gonna like this . . . . \u201d he took the ends of the bundle in both hands and tried to break them himself, \u201cyou CAN\u2019T break \u2018em.\u00a0\u00a0 But . . . . \u201d Pa took one stick from the bundle and snapped it in two very easily, \u201csingly they CAN be broken.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Pa paused, allowing him a moment to ponder.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cBy himself, each one of US can be broken,\u201d Pa continued.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNever let pride stand in your way, Son.\u00a0\u00a0 We\u2019re all here, if ya need us . . . .\u201d <\/em>[iii]<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>\u201c . . . as things turned out, I DID need ya, Pa . . . you, Adam, AND Hoss,\u201d Joe murmured softly, remembering again how his new friend, Dave Donavan had not only let him down, but had betrayed him as well.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cTogether . . . we rebuilt the flume Dave blew up . . . and got the timber down to that mine well before the deadline.\u201d<\/p>\n

The remembered look of pride not only on his father\u2019s face, but upon the faces of his two older brothers blurred under a watery onslaught of tears.\u00a0\u00a0 Joe blinked, then wiped his face against the sleeve of his shirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa . . . had you not said . . . W-WHAT you said . . . the way you . . . y-you said it . . . I m-might\u2019ve let pride stand in my way,\u201d<\/em> Joe silently confessed.\u00a0\u00a0 So many, many times throughout his life, whatever the problem, whenever he was sick, hurt, frightened, or troubled, Pa was there, sometimes with words of wisdom, other times with a listening ear or with his strong arms wrapped reassuringly tight about his shoulders, and always with the strength and comfort offered through his mere presence.<\/p>\n

“Pa . . . . \u201d<\/em> he silently implored, \u201cI-I know there\u2019s gonna be a time when you w-won\u2019t . . . when y-you\u2019ll be with us in . . . in spirit only, but . . . please?\u00a0\u00a0 DON\u2019T<\/strong> let that t-time be NOW . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cG-Grandpa?\u201d<\/p>\n

It was Stacy, her voice hoarse, barely audible.\u00a0\u00a0 Joe looked up and saw her standing just inside the kitchen door, her eyes round with the same kind of fear he had seen before in the eyes of a hurt wild animal, trapped by those out to kill it.\u00a0\u00a0 Her face was pale, and her eyelids red and swollen.<\/p>\n

\u201cGrandpa, I . . . I\u2019m . . . I\u2019m scared.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stood and wordlessly opened his arms to her in manner not unlike Pa.\u00a0\u00a0 Within less than the space of time between one heartbeat and the next, Stacy was in his arms burying her face against his chest, holding on for dear life.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201c \u2018S ok, Kiddo,\u201d he sobbed, as his head gently came to rest upon her shoulder, \u201c \u2018s ok.\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019M scared, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Brother and sister remained thus, clinging desperately to one another, giving release to their grief and their fear until the black night sky began to brighten with dawn\u2019s silver-gray light.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ben found Paris McKenna standing before the darkening waters of the lake, with arms folded tight across her chest, clad the bright royal blue riding costume that brought out the sparkle in her brilliant blue eyes.\u00a0\u00a0 By the light of the near full moon, now rising in the east, he silently made his way from the woods, across the wide sandy beach, and took his place beside her at the water\u2019s edge.<\/em><\/p>\n

The woman who turned to face him was neither the beautiful young woman, who had so long ago, fled in the dead of night like a thief, taking their unborn daughter with her . . . nor was she the brittle, frail woman, made old long before her time by a life of bitterness, regret, and finally grief for the child she had believed to be dead.\u00a0\u00a0 This was a handsome woman, her face and eyes filled with deep sublime contentment.\u00a0\u00a0 There was an air of confidence about her that never was, but perhaps might have been.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cParis?\u201d Ben queried.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cSo many times . . . . \u201d she said very softly, as he took his place by her side.\u00a0\u00a0 She deftly slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and pressed close, her head gently coming to rest upon his shoulder.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSo many, many times, I\u2019ve dreamed of a loving , doting father teaching a beautiful little girl named Rose Miranda how to ride,\u201d she said wistfully.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWith her doting mother looking on?\u201d Ben asked, covering her hand with his own.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cUm hmm,\u201d she replied.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh, Ben . . . that dream\u2019s so vivid . . . so real . . . I . . . I almost feel as if I could reach out and snatch it.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cLike a gold ring while riding a merry-go-round?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u00a0\u00a0 Very much like that.\u00a0\u00a0 Ben?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Paris?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cHow did you know?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I\u2019ve had the same dream,\u201d he replied.<\/em><\/p>\n

Her countenance brightened and there was a glimmer of hope radiating from those bright blue eyes.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ve often wondered . . . thought . . . if I wished hard enough . . . DREAMED hard enough . . . I could make it REAL.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Paris,\u201d he said, with sadness welling up in his heart.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo matter how much you and I might wish otherwise, we CAN\u2019T go back and change what\u2019s already happened.\u00a0\u00a0 All we can do now is find gratitude for what we DO have . . . and find the courage to continue on.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cEven though . . . oh, Ben . . . even though that means you and I no sooner say hello, we find ourselves saying goodbye?!\u201d she asked, her voice filled with sadness and despair.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cAt least we\u2019ve had the chance to say hello to one another,\u201d Ben kindly pointed out.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cBetter that, even if we must always part very soon after, than never ever being granted the opportunity of meeting one another.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cFar better to have loved and lost . . . than never to have loved at all,\u201d she murmured softly, with a touch of bitterness.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThe girl IS real,\u201d Ben pointed out.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cSo is the loving father,\u201d Paris agreed with a wistful smile.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201c . . . and the doting mother,\u201d Ben added.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThough she stands on the other side of the veil that separates matter and spirit, she is nonetheless there . . . watching.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201c . . . always watching.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cSomeday, Paris . . . someday, the father, the mother, AND their daughter will stand together,\u201d Ben promised, \u201cand on that glorious someday, the mother and father will say hello to one another . . . and never say goodbye again.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cSomeday?\u201d she queried, her eyes welling up with tears.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>He hesitated.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI . . . think perhaps that alcohol rub\u2019s done some good, Hop Sing,\u201d Doctor Paul Martin ventured, wary and guarded.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHis temperature seems to have stabilized somewhat . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStill too high,\u201d Hop Sing said darkly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d the sawbones had to agree, \u201cstill too high.\u00a0\u00a0 However, he seems to be breathing a little easier . . . and though his pulse is weak, it\u2019s steady.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hop Sing dipped a clean cloth into the bowl of ice water and his herbal remedy for fever and wrung out the excess moisture.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cStill talk to loved ones not with us no longer,\u201d he said, as he bathed Ben\u2019s face, neck, and hands.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cTalk with Little Joe Mama . . . now talk with Missy Paris.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul sighed.\u00a0\u00a0 THAT didn\u2019t bode well . . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cPaul . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

The good doctor could almost hear his old friend now, his voice filled with a grim, almost angry determination.\u00a0\u00a0 Yet, there was a plaintive note there as well.<\/p>\n

\u201c . . . where there\u2019s life . . . there\u2019s ALWAYS hope.\u00a0\u00a0 Every breath . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cFill in the blank,\u201d <\/em>Paul silently mused, a bare hint of a wistful smile tugging hard at the corner of his mouth.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAdam . . . Hoss . . . Joe . . . and Stacy over the past few years now . . . even Hop Sing.\u00a0\u00a0 Every breath . . . whoever it was . . . took . . . is every reason for hope.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

He saw images of an anguished, worried sick father keeping watch at the bedside of a child gravely ill or seriously injured . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

. . . ADAM, the winter what began as a head cold went into pneumonia so quickly, no one had the wherewithal to realize what was happening.\u00a0\u00a0 He had almost died that year . . . in fact a lesser man almost certainly WOULD have succumbed.\u00a0\u00a0 He found Ben sitting by his eldest son\u2019s beside the morning Adam\u2019s fever finally broke, holding his son\u2019s hand while he slept.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI had plenty of company last night, Paul,\u201d Ben wearily confessed, his eyes straying to the picture sitting on the nightstand beside the bed.\u00a0 It was an old photograph, one that actually predated the daguerreotype by a few years, of a woman who bore a very strong resemblance to the young man who now lay peacefully sleeping . . . . [iv]<\/em><\/p>\n

. . . STACY, last winter a few days before Christmas, lying in her own bed, buried under a mound of blankets and comforters, same as Ben now . . . literally burning up with fever.\u00a0\u00a0 Earlier that evening, she had ridden out into deep snow and temperatures well below freezing at the bidding of her father\u2019s late wife, Marie, of all things, to find Joe whose homecoming was several hours overdue. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Whether the result of fevered imaginings or a genuine haunting . . . to this day, Paul Martin still preferred to simply keep an open mind.\u00a0\u00a0 But somehow . . . someway, she knew exactly where to find Joe, and ended up leading Ben, Hoss, and Candy right to him.\u00a0\u00a0 He was summoned to the house in the wee small hours of the morning, after the snowstorm had subsided, thankfully.<\/em><\/p>\n

Paul had done what little he could for the near comatose young woman.\u00a0\u00a0 Her prognosis, at best, was very grim.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019M of the belief that where life remains, there\u2019s hope,\u201d Ben said stiffly, weariness etched into the very lines of his face, every plane and muscle in his body.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cEach time my daughter draws breath . . . I<\/strong> have every reason for hope.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cShe was pretty ill most of that winter,\u201d<\/em> Paul silently remembered, \u201cbut she eventually pulled through.\u201d<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0 When he left Stacy\u2019s room that night, Ben was seated in a hard backed chair drawn up to the very edge of the bed, with his daughter\u2019s hand clasped firmly in both of his, talking to her . . . encouraging her . . . occasionally pleading . . . .<\/p>\n

. . . JOE, the time a drunken, has-been heavy weight boxing champion by the name of John Regan beat the boy to literally within an inch of his life.\u00a0\u00a0 He and the famous actress, Adah Menken had been lovers once upon a time.\u00a0\u00a0 Though she had reportedly broken off with him years before, he still obsessively thought of her as his exclusive property, and had threatened bodily harm to anyone who so much as looked at her cross-eyed.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThe man couldn\u2019t have gone five seconds in the ring with a welterweight,\u201d Paul muttered under his breath, mildly surprised at the anger rising up in him as he recalled the incident, \u201cbut a young man . . . not much more than a boy actually . . . was no match.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 The beating was intended as a message of course \u201c . . . a message sent by a cowardly bully who lacked the guts to face down a REAL man.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sight of Joe, battered, bruised, and bleeding profusely from a wound to the side of his face, dangerously close to his eye, reaching up with trembling hand to gently touch his father\u2019s cheek, brought tears to Paul\u2019s eyes as he examined and treated the injured young man.\u00a0\u00a0 Ben\u2019s eyes were also unusually bright as placed his own hand over Joe\u2019s and gently squeezed.<\/em><\/p>\n

Though there was a momentary fear that Joe had suffered irreparable damage to his optic nerve and would be blind as a result, that, thank the Good Lord, did NOT come to pass.\u00a0\u00a0 The worst he suffered was a few fractured ribs, a miracle all things considered.\u00a0\u00a0 The ribs mended quickly and his other injuries healed and faded, all under the watchful, solicitous eye of that same anxious worried sick father. [v]<\/p>\n

He saw Hoss once again lying face down on his examining table, unconscious, bleeding out profusely from a bullet wound meant for someone else.\u00a0\u00a0 He began to probe gingerly for the bullet, and very quickly discovered in was in deep . . . too deep for one of his meager skill and expertise to safely remove.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cNo . . . . \u201d he remembered shaking his head in complete and utter despair as realization of how hopeless the situation facing him truly was.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo.\u00a0\u00a0 I . . . can\u2019t consider it.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cBut, he\u2019s bleeding to death,\u201d a man, a doctor by the name of Mundy, immediately protested.\u00a0\u00a0 Paul Martin had never met Doctor Mundy until he appeared in town, selling \u201cmedicine\u201d that was at the very least one hundred proof under the assumed name of Professor Poppy.\u00a0\u00a0 But he had heard of the man.\u00a0\u00a0 He was once a very fine surgeon, with a sterling reputation and a thriving practice in London.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI tell ya . . . . \u201d Paul replied, feeling dreadfully sick at heart, and about as useless as the fifth wheel on a wagon, \u201cI . . . CAN\u2019T . . . get to it!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cOf COURSE you can\u2019t,\u201d Mundy immediately returned, his robust complexion several shades paler than was the norm, \u201cnot with a probe . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cBut . . . y-you\u2019re asking for the kind of surgery that . . . that . . . . \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Paul Martin shuddered at the very thought of attempting to perform the operation needed to save Hoss Cartwright\u2019s life.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s . . . too tricky . . . too risky.\u201d \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cPaul?\u201d Ben ventured, his face white as a sheet, his dark brown eyes round with sheer horror.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cPaul . . . you\u2019ve GOT to do SOMETHING<\/strong> . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI CAN\u2019T, Ben,\u201d he replied, desolate, resigned.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u00a0\u00a0 WHY<\/strong>?!\u201d Ben demanded, unable, unwilling to accept what Paul Martin saw as inevitable.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have the knowledge,\u201d he replied, \u201cI DON\u2019T have the skill.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Never, in his entire life could he ever remember feeling so utterly helpless.<\/em><\/p>\n

As Ben looked from one doctor to the other, his initial shock and horror began a dark transformation to raw, impotent fury.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAre you telling me that my boy\u2019s going to lie there . . . and DIE . . . without help . . . from either one of ya?!\u201d he queried, shocked, appalled, and very angry at the thought.<\/em><\/p>\n

Paul winced against the accusatory note he heard amid his old friend\u2019s escalating anger, frustration, and grief.\u00a0\u00a0 He swallowed, then drew himself up to the very fullness of his height.\u00a0 \u201cI<\/strong> can\u2019t help him, Ben,\u201d he reiterated in a deadly calm tone of voice, \u201cbut Doctor Mundy is a surgeon.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

The blood drained right out of Doctor Mundy\u2019s face.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo!\u201d he vigorously denied Paul Martin\u2019s assertion.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cHE was one of the best,\u201d Paul continued, as if Mundy had not spoken.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHE has the knowledge . . . AND the skill.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cTHAT was another man . . . another world,\u201d Mundy vehemently contested.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u00a0\u00a0 I can\u2019t.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He abruptly turned heel and bolted for the door, moving as fast as a man possibly could, just short of breaking into a dead run.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cDOCTOR!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Ben was on him like a lodestone to iron.<\/em><\/p>\n

Mundy halted in his desperate flight mid-stride, turned, and faced him. \u201cI\u2019m no longer a doctor,\u201d he said curtly, his voice filled with bitterness.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll ALWAYS be a doctor,\u201d Ben argued passionately.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhen you took your Hippocratic Oath, you pledged yourself to be a doctor for the rest of your life.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWill you leave me alone?!\u201d Mundy begged.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cMy son is DYING!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYOU WANT ME TO KILL<\/strong> HIM?!\u201d Mundy furiously rounded upon Ben.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI HAVEN\u2019T USED THESE<\/strong> . . . . \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He held out his hands, with fingers slightly curled, like the talons of a raptor.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201c . . . AS A SURGEON FOR . . . too long.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t forget, Doctor,\u201d Ben pleaded, \u201cyou DON\u2019T forget!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Mundy began to slowly wag his head back and forth.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI can\u2019t risk it.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cRisk it?!\u201d Ben echoed.\u00a0 \u201cWhat are you risking, Doctor?\u00a0 My son is in there . . . maybe dying . . . because of his friendship for YOU.\u00a0\u00a0 What about HIS risk?!\u00a0\u00a0 He BELIEVED in you, Doctor.\u00a0 I<\/strong> believe in you.\u00a0\u00a0 Help him.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Doctor Mundy straightened his posture, and strode back into Paul Martin\u2019s examination room with a grim, determined look on his face and a fire in his eyes that Paul suspected had been absent for a very long time. <\/em>[vi]<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know whether you realized it or not, Old Friend,\u201d Paul Martin said softly, as he placed a gentle hand on Ben\u2019s shoulder, \u201cbut in fighting so valiantly to save Hoss . . . you ended up saving two lives that day . . . and who knows how many more since . . . thanks to YOU . . . Doctor Mundy found the courage to begin practicing medicine once again.\u201d<\/p>\n

The faces of others Ben Cartwright had helped over the years appeared before the eyes of his inward vision one after the other . . . .<\/p>\n

. . . Leta Malvet, a young woman who might to this day be pariah among those living in and around Virginia City because of the actions of her father and brother, had Ben and his boys not stood by her . . . .<\/p>\n

. . . a young Chinese boy by the name of Jimmy Chong wrongly accused of murder . . .<\/p>\n

. . . Frank Medford and his wife, the former Emily Colfax, who owed their happiness to Ben Cartwright . . . .<\/p>\n

. . . and the Mahon and Clarke families would never have put aside their differences and come together to properly raise their orphaned grandchildren had it not been for Ben Cartwright. [vii]<\/p>\n

\u201c . . . and countless others,\u201d Paul silently mused.\u00a0\u00a0 He and his wife, Lily, had also been on the receiving end of Ben Cartwright\u2019s generosity a fair number of times.<\/p>\n

A world without that big silver haired man lying so terribly still on the bed before him?<\/p>\n

\u201cSuch a world would be a poor place, My Friend . . . a very poor place indeed,\u201d Paul said very softly.\u00a0\u00a0 He gave Ben\u2019s shoulder a gentle squeeze, then rose stiffly to his feet.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhere there\u2019s life . . . there\u2019s hope.\u00a0\u00a0 As long as you keep on breathing, Ben, I\u2019m gonna be close by pulling for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul gingerly stretched, wincing against the protestations of joints and muscles made stiff by long periods of lying upstairs wide awake, staring at the ceiling overhead or sitting in that hard chair beside the bed.\u00a0\u00a0 He walked over toward the window, drawn by the brilliant colors of what promised to be a magnificent sunrise.<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps a word or two to The Man Upstairs might be in order<\/em>,\u201d he silently decided.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The darkness, the steady, forward motion of the wagon, and the even rhythm of horse hooves striking the hard ground lulled him to the very edge of sleep.\u00a0\u00a0 He settled himself comfortably against the blankets and soft down pillows piled against the back end of the wagon.\u00a0\u00a0 Inger lay beside him, comfortably ensconced within the loving, protective circle of his arms, nestled close, her head resting against his chest.\u00a0\u00a0 He felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

Then, suddenly, he stiffened.<\/em><\/p>\n

Inger stirred gently within his arms.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cBen?\u201d she queried, sounding as if she were yet half asleep.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cHmmm?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cIs anything wrong?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI . . . . \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Something niggled at the back of his mind.\u00a0\u00a0 He frowned.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cBen?\u201d she gently queried after a long moment of silence.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI dunno, I . . . thought maybe something was amiss, but . . . . \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 His words trailed away to an uneasy silence.\u00a0\u00a0 A moment later, he shrugged.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI . . . must\u2019ve been dreaming,\u201d he decided.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSorry I woke you, My Love.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Inger returned his warm smile with a radiant one of her own.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI love you, Ben,\u201d she whispered, before closing her eyes, and settling herself against him once again.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201c . . . and I love YOU.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He bent down and tenderly kissed the top of her head, then settled back once again, with the intention of giving himself over to the sleep once again stealing over him.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cDoctor.\u00a0\u00a0 Mister Doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hop Sing\u2019s voice, made terse and strident by extreme urgency drew the sawbones from his desperate pleading with The Almighty for the life of a man who numbered among his oldest and closest of friends.\u00a0\u00a0 Paul Martin quickly finished that last thought, and murmured a quick \u201cAmen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFever go up,\u201d Hop Sing reported.<\/p>\n

Paul\u2019s heart sank.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIce,\u201d he said, turning from the window to the crisis now enfolding before him.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHop Sing, do you have anymore ice in the cellar?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSome,\u201d Hop Sing replied.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNot much.\u00a0\u00a0 Use most in fever remedy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGet it,\u201d Paul snapped out the order, as he strode briskly from the window across the room toward the bed.<\/p>\n

\u201cH-Hop Sing?\u00a0\u00a0 Doc?!\u00a0\u00a0 What\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul glanced up and saw Joe and Stacy standing framed in the open doorway.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cCome in,\u201d he invited.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhere\u2019s Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe . . . he said he was going out to the barn,\u201d Stacy replied, her voice catching.\u00a0\u00a0 She blotted her eyes and cheeks against the edge of her robe\u2019s sleeve.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cS-Said something about . . . about brushing Chubb.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor the third time,\u201d Joe added, his emerald green eyes blinking to excess.<\/p>\n

\u201cHop Sing go.\u00a0\u00a0 Get ice,\u201d the Chinese man said as he barreled out of the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou . . . want one of us to . . . to get Hoss?\u201d Joe asked, his voice breaking.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t the two of you keep close to your pa?\u201d the kindly doctor suggested.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019LL go find Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He was a boy again, just a li\u2019l feller, tearing through a big wide meadow of grass nearly as tall as he.\u00a0\u00a0 The sun overhead beat down upon him hotter than in the middle of a desert at high noon.\u00a0\u00a0 Rivulets of sweat flowed from his sodden hair and blow, stinging his eyes and carving trails through the dust and grime upon his cheeks.\u00a0\u00a0 Every muscle in his little legs ached, the occasional sharp jab in his side had grown into pain almost unbearable, and now he found it increasingly difficult to breathe.<\/em><\/p>\n

His eyes were focused on the small covered wagon up ahead.\u00a0\u00a0 At first glance, the horses drawing the conveyance appeared to be plodding along at a very slow walk.\u00a0\u00a0 He had taken off running, fast as his small legs could carry him, sure that he would catch up to it and its occupants in very short order.\u00a0\u00a0 Problem was . . . the faster he ran, the quicker the distance between him and the wagon seemed to grow.\u00a0\u00a0 Tears borne of grief, anger, and frustration began to stream from his eyes, mingling with the sweat still streaming from his hair, as he felt his strength and stamina beginning to flag.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cNO!\u201d<\/strong> he silently screamed in rage and denial.\u00a0\u00a0 He gritted his teeth and tried to pour on more speed, faster, faster . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

Then, suddenly, for one brief horrifying moment, his entire world turned topsy turvy.\u00a0\u00a0 The next moment, he slammed hard against the dry packed ground, with force sufficient to drive the very wind from his lungs.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cPA-AAAA-AAAAHHH!\u201d he screamed in anguished despair . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cPA!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss\u2019 eyes snapped wide open and for a moment he stared in complete bewilderment at his surroundings, not knowing were he was or how he\u2019d come to be there.<\/p>\n

A soft snort from his horse yanked him the remaining way back to the waking world.\u00a0\u00a0 He was seated on the stool he kept outside of Chubb\u2019s stall, with brush in hand.\u00a0\u00a0 The candle in the lamp at his feet sputtered then went out, plunging his entire world in darkness.<\/p>\n

\u201cDear God!\u201d Hoss whispered as he scrambled to his feet.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cPa!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 A cold hard knot of fear began to form in the pit of his stomach as he half ran, half stumbled his way through the dark from Chubb\u2019s stall to the barn door.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cHoss!\u201d Ben gasped, suddenly wide awake.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cInger!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

He found himself standing in a wide meadow of grass reaching almost to his knees.\u00a0\u00a0 The wagon and Inger were gone as if they had never been, and he saw no sign whatsoever of the big gentle man she had birthed into the world.\u00a0\u00a0 The shadows about him began to lengthen, and the sunlight began to wane.<\/em><\/p>\n

He stood in the midst of the meadow, unmoving, as the sun began its descent toward the distant, jagged line of mountains in the west, his heart torn.\u00a0\u00a0 He wanted so desperately to be with them once again . . . to be with Elizabeth . . . with Paris . . . with Marie . . . and with Inger.\u00a0\u00a0 To hold them in his arms, to inhale the wondrous aroma of their own natural scents mixed with the fragrances of their favorite perfumes, to feel their silken hair entwined in his fingers, to look again into their faces . . . their eyes . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

Yet, he found himself yearning desperately to be with his children, the sons and daughter each woman had given him.\u00a0\u00a0 Their faces swam before the eyes of his inward vision and for a moment, he found himself in their midst.<\/em><\/p>\n

But something was wrong.<\/em><\/p>\n

Terribly wrong.<\/em><\/p>\n

Adam . . . Hoss . . . Joe . . . and Stacy stood together, clad entirely in black from head to toe.\u00a0\u00a0 Their faces were deathly white, their eyes red rimmed as they would be had they spent many hours weeping.\u00a0\u00a0 They were grouped together around . . . Ben frowned.\u00a0\u00a0 Was it Marie\u2019s grave stone?\u00a0\u00a0 Paris\u2019?!<\/em><\/p>\n

This was a new stone, one he had never before laid eyes upon.<\/em><\/p>\n

A cold prickle of fear stood the hairs on the back of his neck on end and rushed down the entire length of his spine.\u00a0\u00a0 He shuddered.<\/em><\/p>\n

You must choose.<\/em><\/p>\n

The words echoed through his mind, and down into the depths of his very soul.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cChoose?\u201d he wondered.\u00a0\u00a0 Choose?!\u00a0\u00a0 How could he possibly choose between his children . . . his beloved sons and daughter . . . and the four women he once loved, he STILL loved, more than life?<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps the time has come for you to look to a wisdom greater . . . infinitely greater than your own,\u201d a gentle, masculine voice whispered in his ear.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cR-Reverend . . . Reverend J-Jordan?!\u201d he queried.<\/em><\/p>\n

No.\u00a0\u00a0 Not Reverend Jordan, may God rest his soul . . . someone he and the members of the church in Virginia City had mistakenly believed to be the good Reverend Jordan . . . the being who had simply identified himself as \u201cthe guardian of this place.\u201d <\/em>[viii]<\/em><\/p>\n

He opened his eyes, slowly, tentatively, and found himself standing, not within the church in Virginia City as he had half expected, but within the church he had attended with his parents, his brothers, and sisters as a boy.<\/em>\u00a0\u00a0 The sanctuary was just as he remembered, a long, narrow room, with a low ceiling, reminiscent of a large cabin aboard a ship.\u00a0 The light from without shone through a line of clerestory windows, circular in shape, like portholes, gilding the interior with a soft, almost otherworldly silver.\u00a0\u00a0 Ben removed his hat, then started up the aisle, walking slowly past row after row of rough hewn pews, made by the men of the parish.<\/em><\/p>\n

At the front of the church, Ben stopped before the steps, leading up to the raised sanctuary, where a simple, box shaped altar was centered, unadorned, save for the many colored splotches of light steaming in\u00a0 through the stained glass window directly behind.\u00a0\u00a0 He knelt down upon the very bottom step, and bowed his head. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

In the same instant Ben lifted his head, a shaft of light shone down upon him from the two clear pieces of glass centered at the very top of the stained glass window.\u00a0\u00a0 The story he had been told was, those two clear pieces were placed there by the artist who pieced the window together, as a memorial to the young wife who died in childbirth and their babe, who came into this world stillborn.\u00a0\u00a0 In that moment, Ben knew what he had to do.\u00a0\u00a0 He bowed his head once again, and prayed, \u201cEternal God . . . my Heavenly Father . . . not MY will . . . but YOURS . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Upon uttering those words, peace came into his heart, the like of which he\u2019d not felt in a very long time . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Epilogue . . . .<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cBlanket STAY!\u201d Hop Sing insisted belligerently, with a dark angry scowl on his face.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMister Doctor say you keep warm.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh all RIGHT!\u201d Ben growled back, knowing it was useless to argue when Hop Sing took THAT tone, with arms folded loosely across his chest, feet placed shoulder width apart.<\/p>\n

Hop Sing pointedly tucked the blanket securely around Ben.\u00a0\u00a0 He, then, picked up the sickly brown glass bottle from the coffee table and a spoon.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMedicine.\u00a0\u00a0 Time you take,\u201d he snapped presenting both to the Number One Boss Man of the Ponderosa.<\/p>\n

Ben groaned.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAgain?!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u00a0\u00a0 Again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just TOOK some of that . . . that— \u201d he shuddered.<\/p>\n

\u201cTime you take AGAIN,\u201d Hop Sing declared shoving both into Ben\u2019s hands.\u00a0\u00a0 He waited until Ben had taken two spoonfuls of the noxious liquid within, as per Doctor Martin\u2019s instructions, sternly delivered.\u00a0\u00a0 That done, he snatched bottle and spoon back from Ben and stormed out into the kitchen muttering a very long string of terse, clipped, and very colorful invectives in his native tongue.<\/p>\n

A few minutes later, Ben heard the latch slip and the front door inching it\u2019s way open.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 It was Stacy.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout time you got home from school, Young Woman,\u201d he admonished her sternly as she entered the house.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, Pa . . . Hoss, uhhh . . . asked me to stop by the post office on my way home . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo he did,\u201d Ben remembered chagrinned by the reproachful look on her face.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSorry I\u2019m being such a cantankerous ol\u2019 mule . . . . \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 He looked up at her with a wan smile and held out his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201c \u2018S ok,\u201d Stacy murmured softly as she crossed the room, and took his outstretched hand in her own, \u201ctells ME you\u2019re well on the mend.\u201d<\/p>\n

He remembered again the sight of their faces looking down into his, illumined by the sunshine of a glorious autumn morning shining in through the window when he finally awoke from a dark stupor of fever induced dreams and visions in the downstairs guest room . . . .<\/p>\n

. . . their faces pale, their eyes round and staring, sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight with tears newly formed, though not yet shed.\u00a0\u00a0 Joe and Stacy both wept openly.\u00a0\u00a0 Hoss managed a tremulous smile amid the tears streaming down his cheeks. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Elizabeth . . . Inger . . . Marie . . . and Paris were lost to him once again, and that realization crushed his heart with grief too heavy to bear.\u00a0\u00a0 But as he reached up to smooth back that unruly lock of curls that was forever falling into Joe\u2019s face, caress Stacy\u2019s cheek, still gleaming with the wetness of her tears, and give Hoss\u2019 very strong, yet very gentle hand a reassuring squeeze, joy again filled his heart.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cW-Welcome back, Pa . . . . \u201d Hoss murmured softly . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

The sound of his daughter\u2019s anxious voice brought him back to present time and place.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou . . . ok?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot yet, but I\u2019m getting better,\u201d Ben replied.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYour brothers home yet?\u201d<\/p>\n

Stacy nodded.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThey were out in the barn taking care of their horses when I came in,\u201d she replied.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood.\u00a0\u00a0 That\u2019s good.\u00a0\u00a0 Anything interesting in the mail?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s a letter from Adam, Pa . . . . \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Stacy fished the envelope out of the stack in her hand and gave it to her father.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s funny . . . I thought I owed HIM a letter,\u201d Ben mused aloud, as he opened the envelope.<\/p>\n

\u201cDear Pa . . . . \u201d<\/em>\u00a0 Adam\u2019s letter began, \u201cI hope this letter finds you and the rest of the family well.\u00a0\u00a0 This morning I dreamed again of a beautiful dark haired woman standing in the prow of a ship sailing over a black ocean.\u00a0\u00a0 There was a handsome man standing beside her, dressed in the uniform of a ship\u2019s officer . . . captain, maybe or perhaps the first mate.\u00a0\u00a0 I hope you won\u2019t think your first born has gone completely around the bend when I tell you this, but the dream troubled me for some reason . . . troubled me in a way I\u2019ve not been by my dreams since the days long ago when I woke up screaming from nightmares about Ash Hallow.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cAs I sat in my study later, nursing a cup of coffee that had long ago gone ice cold, I remembered how you were always there at my side when I woke up terrified by that recurring nightmare about Ash Hallow, and other times, too, whenever I was sick or injured.\u00a0\u00a0 The sight of you sitting close by my bed, sleeping or watching me sleep has always been among the most reassuring things in the world for me. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI love you, Pa.\u00a0 I don\u2019t know WHY I feel so compelled to tell you now, at this moment.\u00a0\u00a0 I only know that I do.\u00a0\u00a0 The only other thing left for me to say is thank you for being the best pa in the world to me, and for teaching me to be the best pa I can be to my own son and daughter.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cTake care.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cLove,<\/em><\/p>\n

Adam.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cStacy?\u201d Ben said as he carefully refolded the letter and slipped it back into it\u2019s envelope.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWould you mind fetching me a pencil and a couple of pieces of stationary from my desk?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot at all, Pa,\u201d Stacy replied as she rose to do his bidding.\u00a0\u00a0 She brought back the requested items in very short order.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d Ben said softly.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou have homework?\u201d<\/p>\n

She sighed dolefully.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, Pa . . . I\u2019m afraid I do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d best get on up to your room and get working on it, Young Woman,\u201d Ben said.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s another couple hours or so until supper.\u00a0\u00a0 If you start now, you ought to be finished by the time we\u2019re ready to sit down.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Sir,\u201d she sighed again, surrendering to the inevitable.<\/p>\n

After Stacy had gone upstairs to begin her homework, Ben put pencil to paper.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDear Adam,\u201d<\/em> he began . . . .<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201c . . . I just received your letter this afternoon,\u201d Adam softly read his father\u2019s letter aloud as he sat before the drawing table in his study nursing a hot cup of coffee, freshly made.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThank you.\u00a0\u00a0 I love you, too, Son, more than I can ever hope to say.\u00a0\u00a0 I love you.\u00a0\u00a0 Three words we can\u2019t ever say too often, and tragically don\u2019t say often enough.\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019m going to do my best to rectify that, starting now.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs for the rest . . . . \u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Adam felt the blood drain right out of his face as he read the remainder of his father\u2019s letter about having suffered through a long, serious illness at the very same time he dreamed again of the woman.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam glanced up and saw his daughter, Dio standing in the door between the hallway and his study.<\/p>\n

\u201cMa asked me to come tell you . . . . \u201d her voice trailed away to stunned silence upon getting a good hard look at his father\u2019s pallid complexion, the round, staring eyes, and slightly trembling hand that still held tight to the letter from his father.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cPa!\u201d Dio gasped as she stepped into the room.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAre you ok?!\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam held out his hand and favored Dio with a loving, if wan smile.\u00a0\u00a0 She scampered across the room and upon reaching him, climbed into his lap.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI was reading a letter I just got from Grandpa,\u201d he explained.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs Grandpa ok?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told me he was very sick for a little while, but he\u2019s on the mend now and will very soon be good as new if not better,\u201d Adam replied.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d Dio exhaled a sigh of relief.\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cFor a minute there, you kinda looked like you\u2019d seen a ghost or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlmost, Princess . . . . \u201d Adam murmured softly as he gave the child sitting on his lap a big hug, \u201calmost.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The End<\/p>\n

Next Story in the Bloodlines Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Orenna<\/a>
\nClarissa Returns<\/a>
\nTrial by Fire<\/a>
\nMark of Kane<\/a><\/p>\n

February 12, 2009<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

[i]\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Based on Adam\u2019s recounting of the dream at the end of Bonanza Episode #65, \u201cElizabeth, My Love,\u201d written by Anthony Lawrence.<\/p>\n

[ii]\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Hop Sing\u2019s recounting of the first time he met Ben Cartwright, and how he came to\u00a0\u00a0 be part of the Cartwright family is based upon the account also given by Hop Sing in the book, One Man With Courage written by Thomas Thompson.<\/p>\n

[iii] \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The incidents and dialogue in Joe\u2019s flashback were borrowed from Bonanza Episode #102, \u201cThe Quest,\u201d written by John Joseph and Thomas Thompson.<\/p>\n

[iv] \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Based upon the events that happened in Bonanza Episode #65, \u201cElizabeth, My Love,\u201d written by Anthony Lawrence.<\/p>\n

[v] \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As happened in Bonanza Episode #10, \u201cThe Magnificent Adah,\u201d written by Donald S. Sanford.<\/p>\n

[vi] \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The events and dialog were borrowed from Bonanza Episode #191, \u201cOnce A Doctor,\u201d written by Martha Wilkerson.<\/p>\n

[vii] \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Respectively Bonanza Episodes #17, \u201cThe Outcast,\u201d written by Thomas Thompson; #20, \u201cThe Fear Merchants\u201d written by Frank Unger and Thomas Thompson; #115, \u201cThe Colonel,\u201d written by Preston Wood; and #96, \u201cBlessed Are They,\u201d written by Borden Chase and Frank Cleaver.<\/p>\n

[viii] \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As happened in Bonanza Episode #96, \u201cBlessed Are They,\u201d written by Borden Chase and Frank Cleaver.<\/p>\n

*********<\/p>\n

The original characters and plot are property of the author.\u00a0\u00a0 The author is not in any way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, and makes no money from this work.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 No copyright infringement is intended.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

review from Old Bonanza Brand Library on following page<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Beautifully written! \u00a0 Sweet! \u00a0 And concise. \u00a0 PKMoonshine doesn’t waste time moving the story along. \u00a0 It’s tightly written! \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 —MicheleBE1115 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a017 Nov 2010<\/p>\n

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<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: Ben Cartwright lies on what may be his deathbed, near comatose from raging fever.\u00a0 What thoughts go through the heads of those who love him most as they try and come to grips with the prospect that his time with them may be at an end?\u00a0\u00a0 <\/p>\n

Rating \u00a0K+ (13,255 words)<\/p>\n

Bloodlines Series, links to all the stories within the series included.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":28,"featured_media":6064,"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_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[7,23],"tags":[14,15,17,16],"class_list":["post-5962","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-a-u","category-drama","tag-adam-cartwright","tag-ben","tag-hoss","tag-joe","wpcat-7-id","wpcat-23-id"],"a3_pvc":{"activated":true,"total_views":1646,"today_views":0},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/05\/Los-Robles-02.jpg?fit=471%2C350&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":5454,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=5454","url_meta":{"origin":5962,"position":0},"title":"Autumn’s Surprise (by deansgirl)","author":"deansgirl","date":"October 30, 2012","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0 Autumn is setting around the Ponderosa and with it comes a very dear and long awaited surprise.\u00a0 \u00a0 Rated:\u00a0K+ (1,180 words) Autumn Series, links to all the stories within the series are included.","rel":"","context":"In "Chaps and Spurs"","block_context":{"text":"Chaps and Spurs","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=39"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/Showdown3.jpg?fit=761%2C669&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/Showdown3.jpg?fit=761%2C669&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/Showdown3.jpg?fit=761%2C669&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/Showdown3.jpg?fit=761%2C669&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":12136,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=12136","url_meta":{"origin":5962,"position":1},"title":"The Rebirth of Joe Cartwright (by DebbieB)","author":"DebbieB","date":"August 1, 2003","format":false,"excerpt":"DebbieB passed away Christmas 2021. 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