<\/p>\n
Summary:\u00a0<\/span>A girl from Marie\u2019s past has something for Little Joe.<\/span><\/p>\n Rated:<\/span>\u00a0T\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Word count:\u00a0<\/span> 1351<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Seeing An Angel<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cMistah Cartwright?\u201d Mistah Benjamin Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben turned at the sound of his name. His eyes swiftly located the owner of the decidedly feminine and Southern voice that had called him. He tipped his hat. \u201cYes, ma\u2019am. I\u2019m Ben Cartwright. Is there something I can do for you?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cUmm. . . Actually, there is, sir. You see, well, you don\u2019t know me, but I\u2019m an old friend of Marie\u2019s from New Orleans.\u201d Ben studied the woman before him and decided that at most she was of an age with his eldest son perhaps a little older.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cA friend of Marie\u2019s?\u201d Ben\u2019s voice indicated his doubt. \u201cMy wife left New Orleans some eighteen years ago. You would have been but a child.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The young woman stiffened at Ben\u2019s tone. \u201cI was but a child, still, I thought of Marie De Maringy as my friend.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI see,\u201d Ben replied though there was much about this situation that was not clear to him at all. \u201cWell, I\u2019m very sorry to inform you that my wife passed on some dozen years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cSo, I had heard, but she left a son, did she not?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cYes, our son, Joseph.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She could hear the protectiveness in his voice and see the wary concern that came into his eyes over what might be the dubious nature of her appearance. She cleared her throat.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI am only passing through Virginia City, Mr. Cartwright. I knew that Marie had married and went to live near here. I knew your name. I had a few days here between switching stages, and I made some inquiries. I assure you there was no intention to intrude. I, well, I…\u201d Her words ceased as she fumbled with several folded and sealed sheets of stationery and a flat, wrapped box. “If Marie had been alive, I would have like to speak with her and give her this.\u201d She indicated the box. \u201cWhen I heard of her passing, well, my thoughts were to give it to her son. When a gentleman pointed you out as Ben Cartwright of the Ponderosa, well, if you could give this to your son, I would appreciate it very much.\u201d She thrust the box and the papers toward Ben. \u201cThe letter explains its significance.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cOf course, I\u2019ll see Joe gets it.\u201d There was still a degree of caution in Ben\u2019s tone.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cThank you, sir.\u201d She started to turn away but paused. \u201cIt should bring him no worry, Mr. Cartwright, as I said Marie was my friend.\u201d She moved swiftly after that walking confidently toward the International Hotel.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben watched her go and then stared down at the box and letter in his hand. The flowing script indicated that the missive was intended for Mister Joseph Cartwright. Ben\u2019s thumb picked absent-mindedly at the wax seal. He had a sudden impulse to tear open the letter and read it through, but he pushed that urge away, walked to his horse, and stuffed the contents of his hand into his saddlebags to be delivered upon his return to the ranch.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben waited until after dinner and then gave a short account of his encounter to all three of his sons. It was not until he was telling them that he realized he had not even asked the woman her name. He went to his desk, retrieved the letter and box, and carried them to his son.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Little Joe took them. \u201cWhat do you think it could be, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI haven\u2019t a clue. Perhaps, something your mother once gave her,\u201d Ben replied.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cThat sounds likely, Short Shanks,\u201d his brother Hoss observed.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ll know after you\u2019ve opened them,\u201d Adam commented wryly.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cYeah, we will,\u201d Little Joe acknowledged gazing at the items in his hands trying to decide which to open first. Suddenly he set down the box and opened the letter. He read the first words aloud, \u201cDear Mr. Cartwright, I knew your mother in New Orleans when I was a child. She befriended me in a way I can never truly repay. I felt you might like to know what that meant to me then and forever since. I would ask that you keep this a private matter. . .\u201d Joe\u2019s voiced softened at the word private, and though his lips continued to move, the words they formed could no longer be heard. His father and brothers watched his face and read each emotion that flickered there as he continued to read. When his lips stilled, Joe raised his head, and they saw the sheen of tears in his eyes.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cJoe.\u201d Ben\u2019s voice was soft and reached out to his son as did Ben\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s all right, Pa. She says that Mama was like an angel to her. That she, well, that she kept her from, well, from a harm. Saved her. She meant what\u2019s in the box as a thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cOpen it, Joe,\u201d Hoss urged.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n His brother turned and lifted the box. Slowly he unwrapped and opened it. He lifted out a small, framed picture, and stared transfixed by what he saw. Ben saw Joe\u2019s shoulders begin to tremble. He stepped closer and wrapped his arm around his son. Little Joe turned toward his father, and Ben gently took the picture from Joe\u2019s limp fingers.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben\u2019s own eyes began to mist as he saw a rendition of what was clearly an angel with the face of his beloved Marie. He drew his youngest into his arms as the only too familiar knife of grief pierced his heart.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Hoss and Adam had both come closer surrounding their little brother with a protective circle.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Little Joe clung to his father and whispered softly, \u201cIt\u2019s how I always think of her, Pa. Just how I always see her.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Adam looked from the picture to his father\u2019s face, and then dropped his eyes quickly. He cleared his throat and said simply, \u201cIt was kind of that woman to give it to you.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cCan I hang it in my room, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n To Ben, Joe\u2019s voice sounded suddenly much younger, more like the child he had once been. \u201cOf course you may, son. It was given to you.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019ll be something fine to see each night and morning, Short Shanks, something real fine.\u201d Hoss patted his little brother on the shoulder.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Little Joe slipped away from his father and said, \u201cLet\u2019s do it right now. Tomorrow I\u2019m gonna go up and tell Mama.\u201d Little Joe darted for the stairs. Hoss laughed and went to fetch a hammer and nail.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben caught the look on his eldest son\u2019s face. \u201cAdam, your brother…\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI would never spoil it for him, Pa.\u201d Both pairs of eyes gazed at the papers Joe had set down.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cDo you know what she might have saved her from?\u201d Adam\u2019s voice was low and flat.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cShe said something once about a young girl she kept, well, from the gambling house.\u201d Ben looked up at his eldest. \u201cWhat she said in the letter must not have. . .\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cBeen overly explicit,\u201d Adam supplied.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cNone of us is perfect, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Adam gave his father a weak smile. \u201cIt never hurts to see an angel in someone, Pa, least of all your mother.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben gave Adam a far deeper smile. \u201cShe was one, son, I assure you your mother was one.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Adam\u2019s dimple crept onto his face. \u201cYou think of them all as angels, Pa. I guess to you they were and always will be<\/i>.\u201d He walked over and flung his arm across his father\u2019s shoulders. \u201cWe\u2019d best go up and give a hand. You know that boy hasn\u2019t ever hung a picture straight in his life.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Ben chuckled. \u201cWhen is the last time you let anyone hang anything without your measuring and leveling and . . .\u201d Ben\u2019s words drifted away as he walked with his son up the stairs.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n<\/div>\n