{"id":977,"date":"2008-07-16T16:52:17","date_gmt":"2008-07-16T20:52:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=977"},"modified":"2025-02-27T12:12:22","modified_gmt":"2025-02-27T17:12:22","slug":"trees-traditions-and-three-fine-sons","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=977","title":{"rendered":"Trees, Traditions and Three Fine Sons (by DBird & PJB)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary:\u00a0<\/span>All Ben Cartwright wanted was a nice, traditional Christmas…but his three fine sons had other plans… A collaborative story by dbird and pjb. \u00a0<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Rated:<\/span>\u00a0K+ (10,950 words)
\n<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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Trees, Traditions, and Three Fine Sons<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

by dbird and pjb<\/span><\/p>\n

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<\/div>\n
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“Well?” Ben snapped.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You’ll live,” said Doc Martin dryly. Wholly unimpressed by his friend’s temper, he reached into his bag for the materials he would need.<\/span><\/p>\n

“But is it broken?” Ben demanded.<\/span>Bigger men than Paul Martin trembled when Ben Cartwright used that tone. The doctor, however, had been friends with Ben since they first settled in Nevada Territory, and he knew what a real Cartwright temper sounded like. This was not one of those moments. Instead, this was frustration, annoyance, and yes, some anger, but it was nothing compared to what he’d seen before.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So, the doctor simply began preparing the plaster, as he chided, “Of course, it’s broken. You knew that before I got here. But it’s not as bad as it could have been. Your boot did a better job of protecting that foot than I would have expected. The tree must have landed off to the side. You were lucky.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben harrumphed. Lucky, indeed. If his sons had been in the room, they’d have been running for cover.\u00a0With good reason,<\/em>\u00a0he fumed. He knew they were concerned, but he also knew that, even now, they were bickering among themselves about who was responsible. If he’d had to listen to any more of it, with his foot throbbing and his plans for a pleasant day in tatters -well, neither their age nor his infirmity would have gotten in his way. As it was, he could still hear them arguing out in the hall. If he could walk, they’d be running.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Paul, tell them to go away,” he said through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to talk to them until we’re through with this!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“They’re just worried, Ben,” Doc Martin replied. He checked the pitcher on the bureau. “I’m going to need more water, too.” Opening the door only as much as he needed to, the doctor handed the pitcher to the nearest son with instructions to fill it.<\/span><\/p>\n

“How is he?” Adam’s voice drifted into the room.<\/span><\/p>\n

“He’s fine, but we’ll talk,” said the doctor. “You boys wait downstairs until I can get back to you,” he added. Closing the door, he turned back to his patient. “Well, then, let’s get you some painkiller, and we’ll get started.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I don’t need any painkiller,” Ben said stubbornly.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You’re not going to feel that way in a few minutes,” said the doctor, unfazed.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As he watched Doc fishing in his bag for the bottle, Ben found himself wondering how such a simple plan could have gone so wrong. All he’d wanted was to spend a pleasant day with his boys and to bring home a Christmas tree. . . .<\/span><\/p>\n

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

“You know what we haven’t done in years?” Ben asked, pausing for a moment over his stack of flapjacks. He took another bite and smiled. Good food, good company. His three fine sons and a brilliant, crisp December morning. Not a cloud in the sky. . . just the inimitable Nevada sun shining over forested mountains that seemed to go on forever. A perfect day.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Watched Little Joe finish cleaning the tack room, perhaps?” Adam suggested, raising an eyebrow meaningfully at his younger brother.<\/span><\/p>\n

“The tack room’s fine!” snapped Joe. “It’s not my fault you can’t hang up a bridle.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“I could hang it up if there wasn’t already a bridle in its place,” said Adam. “The wrong place, I might add.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Boys!” Ben thundered.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hoss had wisely focused on the mountain of flapjacks on his plate instead of getting in the middle of that same old argument. As if his brothers hadn’t even spoken, he asked pleasantly, “What ain’t we done in years, Pa?”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

His brothers cast him dirty looks. Boot-licker. Ben smiled at Hoss. At least he had one son who still cared about pleasing his father.<\/span><\/p>\n

“We haven’t all gone out together to find our Christmas tree,” said Ben. “I don’t think all four of us have gone together since the year Adam got home from college.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I remember that year,” said Joe, brightening. “Wasn’t that the time when Hoss broke his arm?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yep,” said Hoss, pitching more flapjacks into his mouth. “Adam thought I was holdin’ the rope on the tree, and I thought he was, and it toppled over on me. My arm snapped like a piece of rotten kindling. It was a right pretty tree, though.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“And it got you out of your chores for a month,” Joe pointed out. “There was that.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“That was a good month,” said Hoss, grinning at the memory. “How come we never all went out again?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not sure,” said Ben, and he really wasn’t sure why, or where that time had gone. “Seems like there’s always been some reason . . . something’s always going wrong around Christmas. Wasn’t there one year when Little Joe was sick with some sort of stomach problem?”<\/span><\/p>\n

His sons groaned in unison. “Can we not talk about that while we’re eating?” Adam asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m with him,” said Hoss, his fork barely slowing.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault,” Joe protested. “I was pretty sick that year.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yes, we remember,” Adam replied dryly. “Hop Sing was away, and Hoss and I had to do all the laundry. We were lucky we even got a tree that year.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Hoss elbowed Adam. “I wouldn’t be surprised if some of that laundry was still stashed somewhere. Ain’t never seen so much-“<\/span><\/p>\n

“It wasn’t my fault!” Joe insisted. “I was sick!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“That’s enough,” said Ben, already sorry for having mentioned it. “The point is, we haven’t gone out together to get a tree in a long time, and I think it would be nice if we could do that today.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Today?” Joe’s head snapped up, his own flapjacks suddenly forgotten.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yes, today,” said his father mildly. “Something wrong with today that I should know about?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“No, sir, nothing’s wrong,” said Joe. “It’s just-well-I sorta had plans for later today.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Plans? You mean, plans other than working?”<\/span><\/p>\n

Adam and Hoss tried to hide their grins. They knew full well what Joe’s plans involved-sneaking away early and heading into town to meet Ginny Morgan. His plans after that… well, he hadn’t shared them with his brothers, and he certainly wasn’t about to share them with his father, especially over breakfast.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well, Pa, there are things that really need to be done… I have to move the bridles, for one thing. That’s really been bothering Adam…” he added. “And then, I figured that-well, maybe-if there’s time-I thought-well-“<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben barely maintained a straight face as his youngest son’s ramblings became increasingly incoherent. He also pretended not to notice the smirks that his older sons were failing to hide behind their hands. Finally, he said, “Well, Joseph, if we get a nice early start, there’s no reason that your plans should suffer too much, is there?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“No, sir,” said Joe, visibly relieved. Hoss and Adam shot each other knowing looks. Same old story. Once again, the kid got lucky.<\/span><\/p>\n

“What about you two? Any plans I should know about?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“None,” said Adam. His plans with Anita Hilliard were most certainly nothing his father should know about.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m free as a bird,” Hoss said, happily finishing off his second helping of flapjacks. “After all, ain’t right to turn our backs on a downright tradition!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“What tradition?” Joe asked. “Can’t be a tradition if we only do it once a decade.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Then we’ll start it right now.” Ben folded his napkin and reached for his coffee. With the benevolence of a true patriarch, he said, “Let’s go and find ourselves a Christmas tree.”<\/span><\/p>\n

It seemed like such a good plan at the time.<\/span><\/p>\n

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

Ben leaned back against the buckboard seat, trying to get into a comfortable position. The backrest had been repaired recently, but was now nailed at an awkward angle. He would have to ask Charlie to take a look at it when they got back. A long ride in the buckboard was uncomfortable even when it was in perfect repair, and this was far from perfect. Ben cleared his throat and took a deep breath. It didn’t matter. He was determined that this was going to be a perfectly wonderful day.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

His boys had already ridden ahead, but Ben was taking his time with the morning. Adam and Joe had been in such an inexplicable hurry, readying the rig and saddling their horses even before Ben had finished his coffee. He really couldn’t imagine why they were in such an all-fired hurry to get back on such a pleasant morning. Only Hoss seemed the least bit excited about the annual expedition that actually hadn’t been an annual expedition for the good part of a decade.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“It’s a right nice day for going tree huntin’,” Hoss had told him cheerfully before they left home and clapped his father on the back.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It didn’t escape Ben’s attention that the other two were rolling their eyes at each other behind their good-natured brother’s back. Ben frowned at them even as he replied to Hoss, “It’s a fine day for choosing a tree, son. A fine day.”<\/span><\/p>\n

And indeed, it was a fine day. Although they were well into December, it had been an unusually mild season with little snow. The morning air was brisk, but the sun was warm against his face. Crests of forest, seemingly everlasting, rose up around him like a cathedral, fading gray into the distance. Cedar, pine, and the musk of the forest. The Ponderosa in its decadent beauty, cloaked in sunlit winter, birds singing as if it was spring. It might as well have been spring, and the thought made him smile. Ben was always happiest on his own land. It was his home, his pride and joy, but it was more than that. More than just a place. It always had been more. It was his dream.<\/span><\/p>\n

He’d dreamed of this land during the long sojourn across the plains, while he watched and worried over a serious dark-eyed boy and a crying, motherless baby. Dreams and hope… poor sustenance for a hungry man, but he’d feasted on them for long days and nights when there was nothing else to eat.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When at last, they reached Nevada Territory, the only moment he’d spared for idleness that first hard winter was to take his two young sons up onto the mountain to find their Christmas tree. It was a bittersweet Christmas, mourning Elizabeth and Inger, but he had the land, and he had his sons. They were together. For years, they’d gone out together looking for the tree. Adam and Hoss, and later Marie, and then Joe. After Marie died, it would have been the four Cartwrights, but then Adam had left for college, and it hadn’t been the same after that. Even after Adam returned, they’d only made it out together once or twice. Running a ranch the size of the Ponderosa was damned hard work, and something always seemed to get in the way. And lately, there had been so much bickering, mostly between Adam and Joe, and that troubled him. The land, the business, his legacy… it was nothing but vanity, if they weren’t a family. He couldn’t help but feel that it all seemed to be falling apart, just like their traditions.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben shook his head at his sudden melancholy. Such thoughts on such a beautiful December day.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Sentimental old man,” he muttered to himself.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“You say something, Pa?”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

To Ben’s surprise, he had brought the team to a stop while he’d been reminiscing. Apparently, his sons had ridden back to see what had happened to him. They were gathered around the rig, waiting patiently, as if he was indeed an old man who needed time to gather his wits about him.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben cleared his throat. “I just said that this was a sentimental spot. I believe that this is the same place where we cut down our tree on our first Christmas on the Ponderosa. Do you remember that, Adam?”<\/span><\/p>\n

Adam smiled and shrugged slightly. “Maybe I do,” he said. “Or maybe I just dreamed it. I was pretty young back then, Pa.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“If I wasn’t around, it must have been a dream,” Joe quipped. “Couldn’t have been much of a celebration if I wasn’t there. The three of you must have had a pretty lifeless Christmas.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“If \u2018lifeless’ means \u2018peaceful,’ then-” Adam began, but Hoss cut him off.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Look over there, Pa!” Hoss exclaimed. “If that ain’t the purtiest li’l tree, then I ain’t never seen one!”<\/span><\/p>\n

It took a good long minute until they understood which tree Hoss was pointing to. At first, Ben thought he had to be mistaken, but there was only one tree in the clearing. In a swampy patch of melting snow, it stood, a woeful tangle of limbs and needles that wouldn’t have reached Little Joe’s shoulders.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It was still a wonderful morning, but Ben could feel a headache coming on.\u00a0Be charitable,<\/em>\u00a0he reminded himself,\u00a0be patient.<\/em>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“That one there?” he asked mildly and pointed at the pathetic little excuse for a tree, hoping fervently he was wrong. Or, at least, that Hoss would burst out laughing at his own joke, thrilled at having put one over on the rest of them.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But Hoss nodded happily. “You was right, Pa. I knew it when I saw it. It’s the tree, Pa, right as rain. Bet you didn’t reckon this here trip was gonna be so danged easy.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe finally found his voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

“That’s not a tree,” he squeaked. “It’s a shrub! And it’s not much of a shrub at that. Adam, tell him. That ain’t even a tree!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Adam was already off his horse, and was circling it, pursing his lips as if he’d just sampled a piece of rotten fruit. At last, he stopped, turned heel, and declared his verdict.<\/span><\/p>\n

“It’s a tree,” he said. “You can tell it’s a sapling from the pattern of growth. One year old at most. But I’ve never seen a pine with branches so deformed. It’s fascinating, actually. The way they sag towards the bottom shows that last year’s drought must have-“<\/span><\/p>\n

“All right, it might be a deformed tree, but it ain’t no Christmas tree!” Little Joe was surprisingly passionate about this conviction, although he had wanted to come along just about as much as he wanted to spend the afternoon at the barbershop. After all, it was the principle of the thing. “Pa, tell Hoss. That shrub ain’t coming back with us!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben glared at Joe and then turned to Hoss, who was eagerly waiting for his approval.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well, son,” he hedged. “It certainly would make for interesting conversation at our Christmas party this year. Adam is right. I’ve never quite seen a pine like that before. But, I do have to agree that it’s a little… short…”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yeah, it’s short,” Joe echoed, looking desperately around for support. “Tell him, Adam.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Hoss looked like he’d like to make his little brother even littler at that moment.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Ain’t nothing wrong with a little Christmas tree,” the big man grumbled. “I’d think you of all people would agree with that,\u00a0Little<\/em>\u00a0Brother.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“What do you mean by that?” Joe demanded, standing up straighter.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben hurried to stand between his younger sons, while Adam still crouched beside the tree.<\/span><\/p>\n

“The needles are actually fused together in the middle branches,” Adam commented, lifting a branch to peer underneath it. “This would make for a fascinating scientific study…”<\/span><\/p>\n

“We don’t have time for a scientific study!” insisted Joe. Visions of Ginny Morgan’s big brown eyes and meaningful smile were dancing in his head. “Pa, tell Hoss we’re not takin’ that one!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hoss-the thing is, you don’t want to take the very first tree you see,” said Ben, carefully gauging Hoss’ reactions. His middle son had been the only one who seemed enthusiastic about this project, and he didn’t want to squash that zeal in rejecting the big man’s first choice. Looking at his other two sons, inspiration came suddenly, and he plowed ahead. “It’s like-well, you wouldn’t marry the first girl you ever sparked without at least looking around a little.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“But, it’s so lonely here, all by itself. It’s like it ain’t got nobody else. I think it needs us, Pa.” Hoss looked absolutely miserable, and Ben felt his own heart sink at his soft-hearted son’s disappointment. However, before he could say a word, Joe had thrown himself into the spirit of his father’s argument with typical gusto.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Pa’s right!” crowed Joe. Too late, Ben realized that he’d used precisely the wrong example in front of his youngest son. “Don’t you see, Hoss? It would be fool planning to marry the girl just because-”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“He’s talking about trees, not about you and your history of sparking,” Adam said rather caustically.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well, you’ve sparked plenty of girls, and you ain’t married any of them,” Little Joe grumbled. “You haven’t even come close. In fact, didn’t I just see you last week with-oh, what was her name?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Over there,” Adam interrupted, shooting Joe a glare so fierce that if looks could kill, the boy would have been six feet under. He pointed off in the distance. “That’s it. The perfect tree!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe smiled knowingly, and Adam resisted the urge to take his little brother out with an uppercut that he’d perfected over years of being the eldest. Adam knew full well that Joe was perfectly aware of Anita’s name, not to mention her reputation. When it came to women, little escaped his youngest brother. But Adam knew all about Ginny Morgan, too, and even if they’d fight each other to exhaustion, there was an unspoken agreement that certain topics were off-limits in front of their father. Besides, Adam also knew that even if Pa found out about Anita, he was likely to give his older son more slack rein than he he’d give an eighteen-year-old kid whose green eyes and lopsided grin could charm the corset off any woman under the age of fifty. If Pa knew half of what the kid had been up to, Little Joe would be locked up in Roy Coffee’s jail for the next ten years, and Pa himself would be pocketing the key.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Which tree is it, Adam?” asked Joe.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Having had his bit of fun at his older brother’s expense, the youngest Cartwright was ready for the not-so-annual Christmas tree hunt to be over. It was already near midday, and sweet Ginny was waiting. However, at Joe’s simple question, Adam actually looked unnerved for the first time that day. Somewhat frantically, he scanned the horizon for a possible Christmas tree, any Christmas tree at all. Providence intervened, and Adam’s gaze settled on a spot in the distance.<\/span><\/p>\n

“It’s over there,” he announced, gesturing vaguely toward a small stand of young pines. Joe shaded his eyes and looked toward the rise, nodding as if he knew exactly which one Adam meant.<\/span><\/p>\n

“It’s a beauty,” Joe agreed, desperately praying that it really was.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well, I think we should consider everybody’s preference, and then we can come to a decision together,” said Ben, relieved to leave Hoss’ unfortunate tree behind. The day was coming along quite nicely, even if Adam and Joe had been acting strangely. Crestfallen, Hoss mounted his horse dutifully, not wanting to be unfair to his brothers.<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe vaulted into his saddle and started up the hill. As he rode past Adam, he hissed, “Better pick one fast!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Adam might have been improvising, but even Joe had to admit that his older brother was good. Very, very good. Utterly composed, Adam dismounted and marched over the copse of pines until he reached the tallest one of them all. It was taller than he was, taller than Hoss. His family followed him, until they were all standing underneath the tree’s shadow. This was indeed a very tall tree, and broad enough that it made Hoss look positively underfed by comparison.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Now\u00a0this<\/em>\u00a0is a tree!” Adam pronounced, giving his kid brother a sidelong warning glance. Adam was a professional at getting his way with their father. He only hoped that Joe had the sense to go along. Both of their afternoons depended on it.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Think you found a big enough tree, Adam?” Hoss asked, still put out. “I don’t think it holds a candle to my tree.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Nothing’s the same as the first time, is it, Big Brother? I hear you never forget your first love,” Joe teased, still taken by his father’s “sparkin'” allusion, and Ben gave his youngest son a particularly dark look for bringing up the sensitive subject.<\/span><\/p>\n

“That’s enough now,” Ben reprimanded his youngest and turned to his eldest. “Adam, I agree this is a fine tree-but really, son. Don’t you think it’s-well, impractical to bring a tree like this home?” Practicality might not have been an argument he could use effectively with his younger sons, but it was almost guaranteed to win the day with Adam. Ben started to turn to one of the more manageable trees in the small grove, but surprisingly, Adam was still making his case for this one.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Our ceiling is over twelve feet high,” Adam said. “This tree would look magnificent. You said yourself it’s a fine tree. Come on, Pa. You’ve said that you wanted this Christmas tree to be special. You wanted us to return to tradition. Well, what better way to do that than to bring back the best tree we could find? And you have to admit, this is the best tree that we’ve seen. Besides, look at the top of it. That is the straightest treetop I’ve ever seen.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe was nodding vigorous agreement, and even Hoss seemed to be almost won over by his brother’s powers of persuasion.<\/span><\/p>\n

“It’s a beautiful tree,” Ben conceded, “and it’s got a very straight top. But for heaven’s sake, Adam, we’d never even get the angel on top. The tree is just too tall!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Oddly enough, Joe seemed to take his father’s comment as a challenge. He draped an arm around his father’s shoulders and squeezed so hard it hurt.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Pa,” he said. “We’ll get that angel on the top of that tree. Don’t think twice about it. I’ll take care of everything.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Now, why don’t I find that comforting?” Ben asked, but no one was listening. Instead, his sons were facing off with each other yet again. Adam and Joe were both reaching for the axe, but Hoss was holding on tight to its handle. And they were already arguing over the right way to cut down a tree.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben rubbed his hand over his forehead. He had been patient-very, very patient-but he’d had about all he could take. And just like that, his patience ran out like the last grain of sand in an hourglass. Once it was gone, there was no going back.<\/span><\/p>\n

“All right!”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben’s deep baritone cut through the arguing. His sons froze. He strode into their midst and yanked the axe from Little Joe, who had just grabbed it away from Adam.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Now, you listen to me,” he began. It was never a good sign when their father started off with the dreaded five words of childhood, the ones that made them all instinctively line up for the lecture that was sure to follow. He paced back and forth in front of them, the commander in front of his troops. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you three today, but I have had enough. Absolutely enough. All this fighting, sniping, bickering. I won’t have another minute of it. We need a plan! Hoss is going to cut the tree, and you two are going to hold onto it. Simple as that. No more arguments!”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Uh-Pa?” Hoss raised his hand, like he was a schoolboy waiting to be called on.<\/span><\/p>\n

“What is it?” Ben tried to keep his voice calm for his most cooperative son.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well, sir-um-well, the thing is-“<\/span><\/p>\n

“What? What is the problem?” Even the cooperative one was trying his patience now.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Pa-Hoss can’t get down low enough to cut the tree. He’s too big,” Adam explained carefully.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben glared at his sons first and then at the tree. Adam was right. The lowest branches on the tree weren’t two feet off the ground. It would be awkward for any of them, but for Hoss, it would be next to impossible.<\/span><\/p>\n

“All right, then, Adam, you cut it. Let’s get this over and done with so we can get on home.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“But Pa-I’m not that much shorter than Hoss is,” said Adam.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Only because of your swelled-up head. . . .” muttered Joe.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Joseph!” His youngest son fell silent. “I give up! The three of you-I don’t know. Just figure it out among yourselves.” With that, Ben turned and started down the hill.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Pa? Where you goin’?” asked Hoss tentatively.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m going for a walk,” Ben said. “And when I come back, I expect this tree to be cut and in the buckboard.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yes, sir,” said Hoss, and the others nodded, even as they considered the tree skeptically.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben tramped down the hill, sliding a bit on pine needles slick with melting snow, frustration rising with every step. He had wanted a simple afternoon alone with his boys, but it hadn’t exactly gone the way he had expected. It shouldn’t have been surprising. Little about fatherhood had been simple. Even less had gone according to plan…<\/span><\/p>\n

Raising his sons alone had not been easy. There’d been more trials than he cared to remember, and decisions he’d gladly take back if he could. Ben had prayed his way through many a sleepless night, and he had paced for miles, all of them back and forth across the great room of the ranch house. He had often joked that his sons were God’s way of turning him into a wise grandfather, especially after Little Joe came along. All that hard-earned knowledge had to be put to use somehow. And yet, his sons seemed a lifetime away from showing any inclination of settling down.<\/span><\/p>\n

With a sigh, Ben sat down on a rock and surveyed the terrain. Shameless beauty met his gaze at every turn. The hand of God was evident in this place. The Ponderosa-his home, his land, his legacy. And yet, without his sons, it was nothing. Just dirt and rocks and trees. Mere plot points on a map.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

What had he really accomplished? He had worked hard to teach them all he knew. It was a father’s duty to instruct his sons, but Ben had gone beyond simple duty. What hadn’t he taught them? From early childhood, he taught his sons the right way to take care of a horse and how to ride like they were born in a saddle. He taught them to do a man’s work and not to rely on the sweat and bent backs of others. From their father, they learned to stand up for what was right and how to take a hit, even if they were the ones being wronged. Ben worked hard to raise men who put others before themselves and treated a lady with more respect than she sometimes was due. His lessons had gone on and on. They continued still and would continue long after he was gone. But it was more than that. Ben’s legacy as a father was more than the sum of his instruction.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As a family, they had lost so much-Elizabeth, Inger, Marie. Ben had always prayed his boys would have learned that no loss was insurmountable, as long as they had each other. But watching them today, with the relentless scrapping and arguing, he almost wondered if they’d really learned anything at all.<\/span><\/p>\n

No.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He shook his head. This was clearly self-pity talking. He was getting tired, and he was simply feeling old. Ben knew better than to let a weak moment get the best of him. He was certain of one thing. Even if they fought each other every step of the way, they would always have each other.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And if his sons couldn’t figure that much out on their own, he would knock it into their fool heads with a Christmas tree.<\/span><\/p>\n

So much angst over a tree. Ben smiled a bit at the absurdity as he started back up the hill. He kicked pine cones as he climbed, taking ridiculous satisfaction at watching them roll out of his way. It was the big things that mattered. The little ones would take care of themselves in their own good time. Already he was feeling better, and as he neared the crest of the hill, he could see that everything was proceeding just as he would have predicted. The tree was down, the axe was put away, and his sons were arguing about how to get it into the buckboard.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“We should’ve put the rope around it before we took it down!” insisted Joe as his father drew nearer. “How’re you figuring on doing it now?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“We gotta do somethin’,” Hoss chimed in. “We can’t do it your way, Adam. It’s gonna break all the branches!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Would you two just listen to me for a minute!” Adam drew a deep breath. “Put the rope around here, like this-and here like this-and here like this. See? Now, all we have to do is load it in and tie it down.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“That’s all?” Joe said sarcastically. “Older Brother, I don’t know if you noticed, but that’s a damned big tree!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Joseph!” His father called up the hill. “Watch your language!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe had the grace to cringe before turning to face his father. “Sorry, Pa,” he said. Turning back to his brothers, he said, “How’re you figuring on picking it up, Adam? And how do you plan on fitting it in the buckboard?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“My puny ol’ tree’s lookin’ pretty good right now, ain’t it?” said Hoss smugly.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hoss, your tree was never looking good,” snapped Joe. “Now, let’s get this thing loaded.” It was already well past noon. By the time they got back and unloaded the tree, it was going to be close to three o’clock, and he still had to clean up and get into town. Ginny was going to be waiting, and she’d never been known for her patience. Of course, she’d be easy enough to charm out of a bad mood, but he didn’t want to work that hard today. He liked Ginny best when she was-well, friendly.<\/span><\/p>\n

Determined to maintain his positive outlook, Ben approached as his sons situated themselves at various points along the trunk. Adam was issuing the orders, and his father stood back to watch.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Joe, take the top, and Hoss, you take the butt end, and I’ll take the middle. Ready? Lift!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Hoss lifted his end easily. The treetop bent in Joe’s hands, and he dropped it to reach further down the trunk. Adam nearly poked his eye out on a protruding branch as he tried to keep his hold on the trunk.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Set it down!” Adam commanded, and Hoss shrugged. “Okay, let’s rearrange a little bit. Joe, take the middle, and I’ll take the top. Ready? Lift!”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Knowing his boys had control of the situation, Ben started to head back to the buckboard, when he heard a terrible noise. He turned heel to find Hoss on the ground, howling, with the tree lying on top of him. Before he could move forward to help, Joe had dropped the middle and leaned over to lift other end off Hoss, who was struggling to heave it off himself. In the next second, Joe was doubled over next to the felled tree, suddenly in as much pain as his brother, although he had a more expressive way of putting it into words.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Dammit, that was my eye! What the hell were you thinking? Sorry, Pa!” Joe added in a voice that sounded anything but repentant.<\/span><\/p>\n

“What on earth-” Adam hauled the trunk off his brother. “What happened? Why weren’t you following my instructions? You were supposed to hold it steady.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Must’ve stepped on some ice,” Hoss muttered. “Slid right under that dadburned tree.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben helped him to his feet, and Hoss gingerly raised a hand to his forehead. Already, a lump was rising where the trunk had struck him.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Son, are you all right?” Ben stood on his toes to get a good look at it.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m fine, Pa,” said Hoss. “Danged tree just bounced off my head a little. No harm done.” He reached down to brush the snow off his backside, and puzzlement crossed his face, followed by annoyance. “Dadburnit,” he muttered.<\/span><\/p>\n

“What’s the matter?” asked Adam.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I think I split my pants,” said Hoss.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Despite the fact he was obviously hurting, Joe had to get a look for himself. “You sure did, Big Brother,” he chortled. “Lucky for you you’re wearing those nice red drawers. At least your backside’s all dressed up for Christmas!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“That’s quite enough out of you, young man,” Ben said. He looked more closely at his laughing son. “Wait a minute, come here.” He took hold Joe’s chin and peered at the colorful bruise mottled around his eye. “Did this just happen from that branch?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I reckon,” said Joe mildly. “Why?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Oh-no reason,” said Ben. He didn’t want to admit that, for just a moment, he’d thought that there might have been a fistfight in the few minutes he’d been gone.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well, now that everyone’s recovered, shall we give it another try?” Adam asked cheerfully.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hoss, why don’t you just take a few minutes and rest?” said Ben. He was still concerned about that bump on Hoss’ head.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Nah, I’m fine,” his middle son said. “I got a hard head, Pa.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well, you take the other end, then,” said Ben. “And Adam can take the middle, and Joe and I’ll take care of this end.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Pa, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea-” Adam began.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You don’t think I can lift a Christmas tree?” Ben raised an eyebrow, obviously daring his son to come up with the wrong answer.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Not at all, Pa,” said Adam hastily, who knew from experience what that raised eyebrow really meant. “Okay, everyone take your positions. I think we’ve got it this time. On three, now. Ready? One, two three…”<\/span><\/p>\n

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

Will Thomas, one of the younger cowpunchers on the ranch, was fixing a wagon axle when the Cartwrights rode in. He ambled over to the buckboard as they reined in the horses and scratched his head in confusion. It was a strange thing about the Cartwrights. They were a fine, upstanding family, but they could go off looking for a Christmas tree and come back looking like they’d been in the wildest bar brawl in the history of Nevada. They were all a mess, each and every one of them. Joe had a black eye the size of a fist, Hoss had a goose egg bump on the center of his forehead, and it looked like Adam Cartwright had pine needles sticking out of his hair. And as for Ben Cartwright… well, Will Thomas found himself unable to look too hard at his employer. He’d always been a little afraid of the man.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Nice lookin’ tree, Sir,” Will said to Mr. Cartwright, politely. “It’s a big one, all right. Biggest I’ve ever seen for a Christmas tree. It’s an all-fired sight to see it propped in a wagon like that.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben acted like he didn’t hear the young cowhand, but stared straight ahead as if he’d gone a little peaked from too much sun.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Hoss jumped down from the buckboard and called, “Will, ride for the doctor, will you?”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“What should I tell him?” Will asked. All the same, he couldn’t help but observe that the backside of Hoss’ pants was torn in the most noticeable way. He covered his smirk by the time Hoss turned around.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Tell him Little Joe dropped the tree on Pa’s foot,” snapped Adam, plucking a pine needle out of his hair. Will didn’t have the heart to tell him that there were plenty more where that one came from.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault-” Joe sputtered.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Enough!” thundered Ben. He glared at his eldest and youngest sons. “I have had quite enough of you two! Hoss, help me down!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Sure thing, Pa,” said Hoss, scowling at his brothers. Adam wisely retreated to the barn, and Joe started to unhitch the horses from the buckboard.<\/span><\/p>\n

As Hoss helped Ben hobble painfully into the house, Joe watched, chewing on his fingernail. When they were out of earshot, he beckoned to Will with urgency that made the cowhand grin. Little Joe was always up to something.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hey, Will,” he said in a low voice. “Do me a favor, will ya?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Sure, Joe,” said Will. He liked Little Joe Cartwright. Joe had grit and was easily one of the best bronc busters on the ranch. Besides, he’d occasionally invited Will to join him when he was meeting a girl who had a pretty friend.<\/span><\/p>\n

“After you fetch the doctor, ride out to the Morgan place, and tell Ginny I won’t be able to meet her tonight,” said Joe. “Tell her I’m real sorry and that I’d be there if there was any way I could. Make sure you tell her Pa’s got broken bones and the doctor’s coming.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Will took a long look at the open door of the ranch house and turned back to Joe. “Sure thing,” he said, with a shrug. It occurred to him that there just might be something he could do to help to ease Ginny Morgan’s disappointment at missing an outing with Little Joe. No, he reminded himself, that wouldn’t be right. Besides, Joe would find out, and while the kid might be wiry, he could throw a mean punch. But maybe, just maybe, she might have a friend. . . .\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Thanks, Will.” Joe clapped him on the arm and started toward the house just as Adam came out of the barn. Over his shoulder, he added, “You’re a good friend.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hey, Joe,” Will ventured. He had one more question he just had to ask. When his friend turned, he asked, “How did you lose all the buttons on your shirt?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Really. You don’t want to know,” Joe said, and Will had a feeling that the Cartwright kid might just be right.<\/span><\/p>\n

The young hand had saddled his horse and was mounting when Adam practically snuck out of the barn. Will took note of the fact that Adam had removed most of the offending pine needles.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hey, Will,” he said, looking over his shoulder as if to be discreet. “Do me a favor?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Sure, Adam,” Will said, pretty sure he knew what was coming.<\/span><\/p>\n

“After you fetch the doctor, ride out to the Hilliard place and tell Anita I won’t be able to meet her tonight,” Adam said.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Should I make sure I tell her how your pa’s got broken bones and how the doctor’s coming?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yeah, that’s good,” said Adam with a smile, somewhat impressed at the hand’s quick thinking. He turned and headed into the house as Will shook his head.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Anybody who claimed Adam and Joe were nothing alike should be around when those two had girl problems and were trying to cover their backsides before their pa found out.<\/span><\/p>\n

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

It had been one hell of a long, hard day, and it wasn’t over yet.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

After the doctor had left, the brothers slunk into their father’s room. Wordlessly, they stood by his bed as he muttered to himself, but fortunately, the painkiller had dulled whatever rage-and coherence-he might have had earlier. In fact, they found him sort of difficult to understand. Finally, he waved them out of the room, and they all but tiptoed away, closing the door behind them.<\/span><\/p>\n

Downstairs, Joe and Hoss sat themselves on the settee. They sat in silence for a while. Finally, Adam spoke. “Well, that went well,” he said, and for the first time that day, they all laughed together.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Should’ve gone with my little tree,” Hoss reminded them. “That li’l ol’ thing wouldn’t have made a dent in Pa’s foot.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hoss, that tree was just awful!” said Joe. “Even you’ve gotta admit that!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well-it warn’t all puffed up like this one here, but it wasn’t\u00a0that<\/em>\u00a0bad. . . .”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Sorry, Hoss, but it was really was\u00a0that<\/em>\u00a0bad,” said Adam, shaking his head affectionately at his brother.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“The angel would’ve weighed the whole thing down!” Joe was doubled over with laughter at the thought.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hoss tried to look offended, but his brothers’ laughter was contagious. He grabbed Little Joe in a headlock and said, “It ain’t like you even picked a tree!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I didn’t have to!” Joe’s voice was muffled. “Older Brother took care of that. And look how well that went!” He squirmed free and sat up, his hair tousled. “In fact, I think we ought toast our older brother for his choice in trees!” He sprang up and fetched the decanter and three glasses.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Isn’t that the brandy Simpson gave Pa when we came in ahead of deadline on that timber contract?” Adam’s common sense reared its head for a moment.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Finest brandy in all of Nevada. At least, that’s what Pa said,” confirmed Little Joe, pouring generously. “Nothin’ but the best for my brothers!” He handed the glasses around, and his brothers shrugged as Joe settled back on the settee with his own drink.<\/span><\/p>\n

Adam raised his glass. “Well, here’s to one of the most memorable Christmases we’ve had.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Each of them drank deeply, and Adam plunked his boots, still cased in dried mud, onto the table. Joe raised an eyebrow.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Pretty bold when Pa’s upstairs, ain’t you?” he asked, with a grin.<\/span><\/p>\n

Adam shrugged and poured himself another shot. “I can’t believe how we messed this one up,” he said. “Have we ever had a Christmas that we got right?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“We must’ve,” said Hoss. “I’m sure there’ve been some good ones.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yeah, Adam, we don’t mess up all our traditions. Pa always reads the Christmas story on Christmas Eve,” said Joe. “Don’t think he’s missed a year yet. Even that time I was sick, remember? He made everybody come up to my room, and he read it to us there.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“And you were sick just before the angels came,” Adam recalled.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“No, I made it to the shepherds. Besides, Pa finished afterward,” Joe pointed out. “He always reads the whole story, no matter what.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Wouldn’t be Christmas if he didn’t,” said Hoss.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Or if we didn’t have the ebleskivers,” said Adam. “I remember the first year Ma made those,” he reflected.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Adam had a fairly rigid system for referring to the mothers who had been part of his life. He referred to Elizabeth, who died in childbirth, as “my mother” and Inger, who had been the first mother he ever knew, as “Ma.” He always called Marie by her name. He had done so from the first time he met her, and she found the twelve-year-old’s stubbornness appealing and refused to hear Ben’s protests that he was being disrespectful. Hoss and Joe simply referred to her as “Mama.” As much as possible, none of the brothers referred to Inger as Hoss’ mother or to Marie as Joe’s mother-it was the sort of comment that was somehow against the rules. It was about being brothers. Simple as that.<\/span><\/p>\n

“It was a few months before Hoss was born, and we spent Christmas in some isolated little prairie town I barely remember,” Adam continued. “She had that cast iron pan with the little round cups, and I never knew what it was for until Christmas.” He smiled contentedly, remembering the first time he’d had the little round Scandinavian pancakes filled with jam. “Don’t tell Hop Sing, but his don’t measure up to Ma’s.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“But he’s probably the only Chinese cook in Nevada Territory who even knows how to cook Scandinavian,” said Hoss, proudly.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“He uses her recipe,” said Adam. “I remember Pa giving it to him. You should’ve seen the look on Hop Sing’s face. He knew what it meant.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“See? We’ve had some good Christmases, ain’t we?” said Hoss, stretching out his legs and resting his own boots on the table. Joe glanced nervously up the stairs before he planted his boots alongside his brother’s.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Which one was best?” asked Adam, draining his glass and reaching for the decanter.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe yawned and stretched, almost hitting the sizeable bump on Hoss’ forehead. He’d gone ahead and taken his shirt off because it wasn’t doing much good, hanging off him like that anyway.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“The best Christmas?” he mused. “I’ve gotta go with the year I was six, before you left for college.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Mama’s last Christmas,” said Hoss, nodding even as he remembered it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe’s eyes were dreamy, as if he were looking at something that was only more beautiful because it was so far away. “I don’t remember much about that year, except that we were all together. We stuck cloves in oranges Pa brought back from Sacramento. Hoss told me that part. Adam and Mama sang Christmas carols, and even though I was just a little kid, I remember thinking that it was just the best day ever.” Joe got quiet then, and Hoss punched him affectionately on the arm to bring him back with them. Joe smiled, shoved him back, and continued, “Then, there was the year Santa came to the Ponderosa. Now that didn’t go real well, did it, Hoss?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“When was that?” asked Adam, refilling his brothers’ glasses. The brandy was warming him, head to toe, and he couldn’t seem to remember which year Joe was referring to.<\/span><\/p>\n

“The first Christmas you and Mama were gone,” said Joe. “That year was hard even for me, and I was only seven. I can’t imagine what it was like for Hoss and Pa.” He turned expectantly to his big brother.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I didn’t know how we were gonna get through it,” said Hoss. “Hadn’t been for you being such a little kid, I don’t reckon we would’ve bothered, but Pa was plumb fixed on the notion that you were gonna have Christmas. You should have been there, Adam. Pa got Roy Coffee to dress up like Santa and put all the presents in a sack and everything. Roy was real skinny back then, so it took a couple extra pillows, but he didn’t look too bad if’n you warn’t too particular about your Santas.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Only thing was, I was just a little kid, and I’d had a pretty tough year,” said Joe. “He kind of scared me when he burst in like that.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“\u2018Kind of’?” snorted Hoss. “You took one look at him and went running over to hide behind the tree-“<\/span><\/p>\n

“And you knocked it over,” said Adam. He remembered now.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He’d sat in his room at Grandfather Stoddard’s on a cold January night, reading his father’s letter that described how his family had celebrated Christmas without him. Even though he was in Boston by his own choice, and even though he’d had his own Christmas celebration with his grandfather and some friends, he could still remember the small feeling of betrayal that his family had moved on. But Pa’s description of how Little Joe had raced behind the tree and knocked it over, how the little boy had howled in terror as the adults tried frantically to extinguish all the candles on the tree before it went up in a ball of fire, how Roy\/Santa had finally grabbed the child and hauled him out of the corner and barked in his sheriff’s voice that the boy was to sit down or else, scaring the kid so badly that he’d run out of the house, so that Pa had to chase after him in the snow while Roy and Hoss dealt with the tree-by the time Adam finished the letter, he was rolling with laughter. But then, his laughter turned bittersweet and then it faded away. The pain came drifting in like fog, and Adam let it come. Everything was changing.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

His family was making memories without him.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Pa really tried,” Joe said, still chuckling over it. “He was bound and determined that somehow, Hoss and I would have Christmas that year, even though we’d lost both you and Mama.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“You didn’t lose me,” Adam said softly.<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe looked at him with surprising intensity. “Yeah, we did,” he said. “You weren’t there, Adam.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“But I came back,” Adam said.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The silence stretched out between them like the years that had passed as they all sat together, thinking it over.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Finally, Hoss said, “That’s a mighty fine tree.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Even if Pa did pay quite a price for it,” said Adam with a small smile.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hey, I have an idea! You know what we should do?” Joe sat upright, his eyes bright from more than his fair share of the brandy.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“What?” Hoss and Adam looked warily at each other. Whenever Joe got an idea, especially one he was excited about, his brothers usually paid dearly for not having discouraged him.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Let’s decorate the tree for Pa!” Joe said. “We’ll do all the work. Then, when he comes downstairs, all he has to do is sit back and enjoy it.”<\/span><\/p>\n

They had to admit, it sounded like a pretty good idea. “All right, then. First thing in the morning, we’ll start,” said Adam.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Not tomorrow-now!” Joe was already on his feet.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Now? Joe, it can wait until tomorrow,” said Adam. It was bad enough he’d missed out on his evening with Anita Hilliard. Now, he just wanted to sit back and relax. His father’s good brandy was already warming his toes and softening the rougher edges of the day. He would be content to stoke the fire, reach for his newest bound version of Flaubert, and call it a day. However, his little brother wasn’t finished yet.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“What if Pa comes downstairs tomorrow and it’s not done?” demanded Joe. “We should do this for him. After all, we broke his foot.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“We<\/em>\u00a0broke his foot?” Adam inquired archly.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Now, don’t start blaming me again-” Joe was on his feet. “Look, I was trying to protect Pa from the tree! How was I supposed to know there was ice there?-“<\/span><\/p>\n

“Enough!” Hoss stood up. “I’ve listened to you two gripe and bicker all day, and I done had enough.\u00a0We<\/em>\u00a0broke Pa’s foot, and\u00a0we<\/em>\u00a0are gonna decorate this tree and\u00a0we<\/em>\u00a0are gonna act downright nice doin’ it or\u00a0we<\/em>\u00a0are gonna get our dadburned necks broke!” He glowered at his brothers, who seemed to deflate under his glare.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I think the ornaments are in the storeroom,” said Adam finally. “I’ll go get them.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’ll help you,” said Joe, sidling past his big brother and making good time for the door.<\/span><\/p>\n

Two hours later, the room was full of empty boxes. As with everything else, each of the brothers had his own approach to trimming a Christmas tree. Adam was methodical, choosing the perfect spot on the tree for each and every candle and all of Marie’s blown glass ornaments. Joe commented to Hoss that a lesser man on his best day, and even using a ruler, couldn’t have spaced the ornaments as evenly as Adam Stoddard Cartwright. Hoss ignored him, intent on his own task, his brow furrowed as he worked the needle through each piece of popcorn. And Joe was nonchalant about the whole business, draping strands of garland wherever the spirit moved him and hardly noticing when Adam came along to adjust them as soon as he was done.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You know, this really is a very tall tree,” commented Adam after stretching to place the umpteenth candle. He knew the brandy was definitely affecting him, but he was still pretty certain that the tree hadn’t looked nearly this tall when it was in the woods. “We’re going to have to get the ladder for the top part.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“We don’t need a ladder,” Joe protested, rolling his eyes. Adam was always trying to make things more complicated. “Big Brother here’s even better than a ladder. Hoss, you about finished with that string?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Jest gimme a minute,” said Hoss. He’d finished the garland but was eating a handful of popcorn. Joe kicked off his boots and stood by the tree, whistling a carol while he waited. Adam frowned. They’d always used the ladder in years gone by. It was a tradition, even though he didn’t like balancing on that rickety wooden ladder any more than Joe did, and moving the blasted thing all around the tree to reach all the different spots was hugely annoying. However, it certainly seemed like things were going to be different this year, and decorating was no exception.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Hoss bent down with a long-suffering sigh. Grinning, Joe hopped up and easily climbed onto his brother’s shoulders. Hoss straightened, and Joe gestured good-naturedly to Adam.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“All right, I’m tall enough now, so what do you want me to hang next?” he asked genially.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Pa wouldn’t be real happy if he saw you leaning over the tree like that,” Adam warned, even as he handed his brother the ornaments. “You’re going to bring the whole thing down again.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Pa’s not here,” Joe reminded him cheerfully, “and even if he were, I’m a man. I can handle myself just fine around Pa.” Adam raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t say a word as he handed Joe one of Marie’s blown-glass ornaments, fingers mentally crossed.<\/span><\/p>\n

They continued that way, occasionally arguing about where the ornaments were placed, more out of habit than real disagreement. Occasionally, Joe leaned too far to one side or another, almost bringing himself and Hoss down and the tree along with them, but for the most part, he maintained his position quite well as he directed his big brother around the tree.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“We’re definitely going to need the ladder now,” said Adam after a while, crossing his arms to appraise their work. He had to admit it. The tree did look pretty good. Joe had done what he could, seated on Hoss’ shoulders, but the top branches were bare. “We’ve still got to put the angel up, too,” he added.<\/span><\/p>\n

“We don’t need the ladder,” Joe insisted.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Then how’re you going to reach the top?” challenged Adam.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Rather than answering his oldest brother, Joe ordered, “Hoss, take me over by the wall. I need something to lean against.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Aw, come on, Joe. Let’s go get the ladder.” Hoss sounded skeptical and not just a little worn out. “Are you sure you want to do this?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“‘Course I’m sure,” said Joe. “It ain’t like we ain’t done it a million times.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yeah, but we used to do all sorts of things I ain’t about to do now,” Hoss pointed out. “And most of them don’t make much sense for grown men.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Didn’t make much sense for kids, either,” Adam reminded him, leaning against the staircase. “You two always did have the attention span of a flea. Kept getting into the same scrapes again and again. You’re just not remembering it.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well, you two are the ones who are always calling me a kid,” Joe said. “Might as well act like one. Besides, it’s not like Older Brother there could do it.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“That’s for danged sure,” said Hoss. “My back hurts just thinking ’bout it. Well, let’s get to it. We ain’t got all night.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“All right, hold on,” Joe said. “Just let me get rid of my socks so I don’t slip.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Intent on their own purposes, none of them heard the outraged gasp from the top of the stairs. Ben Cartwright had been standing in the shadows on the landing for longer than he would admit to his sons. It had taken every bit of his self-control, but he’d stayed quiet, to allow his sons to surprise him. He’d had it all planned out, and he could have appeared to be very, very surprised. Watching them as they worked together, finally getting along, had soothed his spirits, and he’d smiled several times from where he stood. They thought they were making it all up to him, but they’d already been forgiven. His foot still hurt like the devil, but his heart was full with something only a father could understand. It was all well and good, and he was just about to head back to his room, when Joe came up with the hare-brained idea to finish decorating the treetop by standing on Hoss’ shoulders.<\/span><\/p>\n

For God’s sake, stop him<\/em>, Ben wanted to shout to his older and supposedly wiser sons. Yet neither of them seemed to think it was all that bad of an idea.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hey, Hoss, stand still, will you!” snapped Joe. “If I go down, so does the tree!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Ben’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief as Adam retorted, “You knock that tree over, you’re putting it back up by yourself!” That this was all his eldest son had to contribute was so outrageous that Ben nearly hollered down the stairs at Adam to stop lounging around and do something before his brothers killed themselves.<\/span><\/p>\n

From his vantage point at the top of the stairs, Ben could hear shuffling, but the tree effectively blocked his view. A moment later, he caught his breath as Joe’s head appeared over the top of the tree. Ben’s eyes widened as he finally got his first good look at Hoss holding onto Joe’s bare ankles as Joe balanced expertly on Hoss’ shoulders.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“What should I do next?” Joe asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Get down,” Ben hissed under his breath. “That’s what you should do next.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Uh-put this candle on that branch right in front of you.” Adam reached up and placed the candle in Joe’s hand.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As carelessly as if he were standing on the front porch, Joe leaned way over to fasten the candle. Ben held his breath as he watched. Only his fear of startling them and upsetting Joseph’s absurd equilibrium kept him from charging down those stairs, cast and all. To his father’s absolute frustration, Adam seemed to be in no hurry to end anything. Arms crossed against his chest, he paced from one side of the tree to the other, sighing and making little corrections. For once, Ben saw his oldest son’s perfectionism as a veritable curse rather than a blessing. He was just about ready to take his chances and make his way down the stairs when, at long last, Adam handed Joe the angel.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe was in good spirits as he leaned to reached up the figurine on top. “Okay, what do you think? Is it straight?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I can’t tell,” said Adam. “Over a little.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Two steps left,” said Joe, and Hoss dutifully obeyed. “Well?” he demanded when Adam said nothing.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not sure,” said Adam. “Something isn’t right.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well, you better get sure, ’cause I ain’t stayin’ up here all night!” Joe was beginning to sound exasperated.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not sure, but something’s off. I don’t know. Hoss, can you tell?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“How in tarnation would I be able to tell? Adam, I got Joe’s smelly feet in my face, and he ain’t as light as he looks. Now, is that danged angel straight or not?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hey! My feet ain’t smelly! I took a bath on Wednesday!” protested his passenger.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Which Wednesday?” interjected Adam.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Little Brother, this really ain’t the time to be arguin’ with me, is it?” said Hoss.<\/span><\/p>\n

But Joe merely shrugged. “If anything happens, you two are the ones who’ll get in trouble,” he said. “Hoss for droppin’ me, and Adam for lettin’ us do it in the first place. I’ll be fine.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Except for your broken neck,” said Adam, mildly. “I swear, Little Brother, it’s a miracle you’ve lived as long as you have. Too far over now. The angel’s tilting a little to the right.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe sighed and leaned over the tree so far that Ben had to hang on to the banister to keep from calling out. “All right, how is it now?” Joe asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

“A little to the left,” said Adam, frowning at the leaning angel. “If we don’t get it right, it’ll bother us every time we look at it.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“You mean it’ll bother you,” Joe retorted, adjusting the angel yet again. “I’m still going to be up here, come Christmas morning, if you take any longer!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I think it’s centered,” said Adam.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You think? Older Brother, you better be danged sure, ’cause we ain’t doin’ this again until it’s time to take the tree down,” said Hoss.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Besides, Pa’s gonna be up by then, so he’ll probably make us use the ladder,” said Joe, sounding almost disappointed at the idea.<\/span><\/p>\n

“The way we should’ve done this time?” Adam asked, coming alongside his brothers. “The angel’s fine. Come on down.” He looked from one brother to the other. “You can get down, can’t you?”<\/span><\/p>\n

Joe didn’t even bother to answer. As they had done countless times before, Adam reached up, and Joe took hold of his brother’s hand, saying, “On three, now. One, two, three!” Hoss bent forward, and Joe leapt to the floor. “Nothing to it,” he said with a saucy grin. The three brothers turned as one to admire their handiwork-and as one, they froze.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Because at long last, they saw their father at the top of the stairs.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Oh-hi, Pa,” Joe managed finally.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Joseph!” Ben found his voice, and the roar of it quickly made up for lost time. Ben had been right about one thing. The way Joe nearly jumped out of his skin, he’d surely have ended up with a broken neck if Ben had chosen to make his presence known sooner.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Pa! You shouldn’t be standing. Here, let us give you a hand!” Adam and Hoss clambered up the stairs to help while Joe frantically tried to move boxes out of the way.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“We didn’t know you were up!” Joe stammered as Hoss settled Ben in the blue upholstered chair and Adam dragged over an ottoman for his father’s foot.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Obviously,” Ben said dryly.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Would you like a brandy, Pa?” offered Adam, quite helpfully.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Hoss added, “The brandy’s already out, sir.”<\/span><\/p>\n

For the first time, Ben took a good look at the table. The decanter that held his best brandy was more than half-empty, and three crystal glasses had been shoved to one end to make room for ornament boxes. “Don’t tell me you boys were drinking before you tried that little stunt,” he said slowly. His sons were suddenly very interested in the rafters, the fireplace and the ornament boxes-anything to keep them from looking into the glare that was cast directly at them.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Unbelievable. It was an altogether fitting ending to an absolute disaster of a day. Only if Joe had actually broken his neck could it have been a more complete fiasco. His boys stood in front of him, like guilty men awaiting sentence from a hanging judge. For just a moment, they looked more like the little boys he had raised than the grown men who ran the ranch alongside him. The day came back to Ben then, in all its absurdity. He should have been ready to light into them, good and proper. . . . Yet, suddenly, inexplicably… Ben began to laugh.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

All three took a step back. Perhaps the tree had done more damage than they thought…<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yes, Adam, I’d love a brandy,” Ben managed, when he could finally get himself together enough to speak. He’d barely taken a breath before he burst into laughter again. His sons traded worried looks as Joe fetched a fourth glass and Adam took up the decanter, hesitating before he poured. Clearly, his boys thought it possible that he could be a bit touched in the head, in which case, spirits might not be the best idea, no matter how fine the vintage. Who knew what he would do next?<\/span><\/p>\n

But as he accepted the glass from Adam, Ben knew that, with the three fine sons he’d been given, he could indeed do anything-cut a Christmas tree that really should have stayed in the forest, read a Christmas story on the howling plains, maybe even figure out how to make little Scandinavian pancakes to honor the memory of a good woman who didn’t stay long enough in his life. . . . The Cartwrights might not have the most relaxing or conventional Christmases, but as long as they were a family, there was no question that they would have a good time.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Life was too short,<\/em>\u00a0Ben reflected,\u00a0for easy traditions.<\/em>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He wiped his eyes, still laughing as he raised his glass to the three of them.<\/span><\/p>\n

“A toast,” he said. “To Christmas!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“To Christmas!” his sons chorused, glasses clinking. As Ben sipped the finest brandy in all of Nevada, he gazed idly at the tree. The angel was definitely crooked. He couldn’t understand how Adam hadn’t noticed. It would bother them all until Christmas, no doubt.<\/span><\/p>\n

And Ben wouldn’t have changed it for anything.<\/span><\/p>\n


\nThe End<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n
Disclaimer:<\/span>\u00a0All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

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

Summary:\u00a0All Ben Cartwright wanted was a nice, traditional Christmas…but his three fine sons had other plans… A collaborative story by dbird and pjb. \u00a0<\/p>\n

Rated:\u00a0K+ (10,950 words)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":49,"featured_media":382,"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":[23],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-977","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","wpcat-23-id"],"a3_pvc":{"activated":true,"total_views":1272,"today_views":0},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/christmasc.jpg?fit=298%2C369&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":4733,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=4733","url_meta":{"origin":977,"position":0},"title":"Trees, Traditions, And Three Fine Sons (by pjb & dbird)","author":"pjb","date":"April 29, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0All Ben Cartwright wanted was a nice, traditional Christmas...but his three fine sons had other plans... A collaborative story by dbird and pjb. Rated:\u00a0K+ \u00a0WC 10,900","rel":"","context":"In "Drama"","block_context":{"text":"Drama","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=23"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/renotrip.jpg?fit=1182%2C778&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/renotrip.jpg?fit=1182%2C778&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/renotrip.jpg?fit=1182%2C778&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/renotrip.jpg?fit=1182%2C778&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/renotrip.jpg?fit=1182%2C778&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":15992,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=15992","url_meta":{"origin":977,"position":1},"title":"High Finance (Or, How to Keep Your Mutton-Headed Sons From Getting Robbed) (by pjb)","author":"pjb","date":"February 22, 2018","format":false,"excerpt":"SUMMARY:\u00a0 Oh, the lengths a father must go to in order to protect his sons. . . . Rating:\u00a0 K\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Word count:\u00a0 1,100","rel":"","context":"In "Alternate Universe"","block_context":{"text":"Alternate Universe","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=7"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/02\/credit-card.jpg?fit=640%2C426&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/02\/credit-card.jpg?fit=640%2C426&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/02\/credit-card.jpg?fit=640%2C426&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":5347,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=5347","url_meta":{"origin":977,"position":2},"title":"A Quartet of Limericks (by Puchi Ann)","author":"Puchi Ann","date":"May 1, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: \u00a0Ben Cartwright reflects on his three sons in this quartet of limerick verses. Rated: K \u00a0(134 words)","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=9"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":975,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=975","url_meta":{"origin":977,"position":3},"title":"Sleigh Bells, Rotgut, and Other Miracles (by DBird & PJB)","author":"DBird","date":"July 16, 2008","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0In the middle of a snowstorm on Christmas Eve, in a line shack stocked with beans and rotgut, the Cartwrights are reminded of what truly matters. \u00a0Written by dbird and pjb. \u00a0 Rated K+ (10,920 words)","rel":"","context":"In "Drama"","block_context":{"text":"Drama","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=23"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/bonanza.jpg?fit=295%2C295&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":1281,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=1281","url_meta":{"origin":977,"position":4},"title":"A Child’s First Christmas (by KateP)","author":"KateP","date":"December 20, 2001","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: \u00a0Ben Recalls each of his sons' first Christmas Rated: K (620 words)","rel":"","context":"In "Drama"","block_context":{"text":"Drama","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=23"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/12\/G-1-DVS.jpg?fit=574%2C690&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/12\/G-1-DVS.jpg?fit=574%2C690&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/12\/G-1-DVS.jpg?fit=574%2C690&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":5392,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=5392","url_meta":{"origin":977,"position":5},"title":"The Ballad of Ben Cartwright (by ansinico)","author":"ansinico","date":"May 1, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: \u00a0l have put my own words to the\u00a0air of an Irish drinking song, \u00a0'The Wild Rover' also called 'No Nay Never' \u00a0l hope you like it. 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