Relatively
Speaking
or
The Return of Cousin Clarissa
by
Claire
with grateful thanks to Lynne
“I think
I can safely guarantee that is the last time either of those boys will use that
particular word!” Ben strode across the floor, rubbing his hands together with
evident satisfaction, as muffled, spluttering sounds could be heard from the
kitchen.
“Ben!”
Marie reproached. “That’s a horrible thing to do – washing their mouths out
with soap!” She closed her eyes for a second, feeling a wave of tiredness sweep
over her. Joe had started teething and was generously sharing his pain and
misery with the entire household, most especially his mother. In consequence,
everyone’s nerves were strained and that evening, Adam and Hoss had bickered
incessantly, finally resorting to some unpleasant name-calling.
“It had
to be done,” Ben soothed. “From now on, I can guarantee that they will think
before they speak.” Seeing the doubt in his wife’s eyes, Ben cunningly played
his trump card. “After all, Joe will soon be talking and you don’t want your
precious baby saying those sorts of words, do you?”
Marie
jerked upright and her eyes shot open, wide with horror. “I most certainly do
not!” She glared at Adam and Hoss as they slunk repentantly across the room,
their mouths still puckered by the unpleasant taste of soap. “If
either of you boys ever says that again, why – there will be blood for
breakfast! Do I make myself clear?”
Adam and
Hoss exchanged rueful glances: Pa was bad enough, but when Marie joined in –
well, there was only one thing to do.
“Yes
Ma’am,” Adam said contritely and gave Hoss a sharp nudge with his elbow.
“I’m
sorry,” Hoss said, his head hung low.
Ben surveyed
his sons. “And?” he demanded. “Don’t you have something else to say?”
Adam
gulped. His father was obviously still furious. “We won’t do it again?” he
volunteered.
“I
should hope you would not be so foolhardy!” Ben retorted. “I think you boys owe
one another an apology, don’t you?” He stood and watched, one foot tapping
impatiently on the floor, as the boys exchanged muttered words of varying
sincerity. “Right, off to bed with you – and go quietly! Don’t wake up the
baby!”
Hoss
permitted himself a small grimace. Pa had never minded a little rumpus before,
but now he seemed to expect everyone to creep around on tiptoes. It wasn’t
fair! No one scolded Joe when he woke up the whole house with his squalls, did
they? Pa never gave Joe a row because he had woken up Hoss. Unable to resist
the temptation, he clomped heavily upstairs, his boots thumping on each
stair-riser.
“Hoss!” In frustration, Ben forgot to
moderate his own voice and within seconds there was an answering wail from
upstairs.
“Sorry,
With a
sigh, Marie started to rise from her chair, but Ben put a gentle hand upon her
shoulder.
“You
stay here. I’ll see if I can settle him, and if not, I’ll bring him down here.”
His hand caressed her cheek gently and lingered for a moment, before cupping
her chin and kissing her lips. Pale and tired, Marie was still the most
beautiful woman he had ever seen. Sending Adam and Hoss to bed early had the
definite advantage of giving the elder Cartwrights time alone together – if he
could persuade Joe to go back to sleep!
The
cries increased in intensity as Ben entered the bedroom, to discover his
youngest tossing restlessly in his crib. The covers were in tangled disarray as
Joe kicked his legs furiously. With a sigh, Ben picked up the baby and started
to comfort him, noticing the heat that radiated from his small body. Moving
into the hall, where a lamp burned brightly, he noted the crimson cheeks with
dismay – it looked as if another tooth was coming through.
As the
cries subsided into whimpers, Ben moved softly along the hall. A line of light
shone out from underneath two doors.
“Adam?”
In deference to his eldest son’s burgeoning manhood, Ben tapped briefly on the
first door before entering. “Don’t read for too long, son.”
Raising
his dark head, Adam met his father’s eyes with a smile. “I won’t,
“I think
that was probably my fault!” Ben said, patting Joe soothingly on his back, as
the baby gnawed on his shoulder. “He’s normally a sound sleeper, but what with
all this teething, on top of his cold… well, Joe’s a little out of sorts, just
like the rest of us. Sleep well, son.”
“Night,
“Hoss? Are you asleep?”
Hair
standing on end, Hoss emerged from under the covers, displaying a tear-stained face.
“You still mad, Pa?”
Ben sat
down on the edge of the bed, and shifted Joe more comfortably in his arms. His
shoulder felt completely sodden. “No, I’m not annoyed with you. You’ve had your
punishment, you said you were sorry and that is an end to it. Alright?”
The
little boy’s face brightened immediately. “Thanks, Pa!” He reached forward to
hug his father, inadvertently squashing the baby, who squeaked sharply and then
began to cry with renewed force.
Now I
know why God gave us two hands! Ben thought, as he removed the baby from immediate danger and
joggled him on one arm, while clasping Hoss with the other. After a moment, he
turned to the lamp and reached out.
“Don’t
turn it off!” Hoss’ voice was shrill with fear. “I don’t like the dark.”
“I won’t,”
Ben assured him. “But there is nothing to be afraid of,
you know that, don’t you?”
Hoss
leaned back against his pillows. “I know. But I still don’t like the dark.”
Ben
lowered the flame, so that a small halo of light shone out. “There – is that
better?” He bent over and kissed the little boy, who snuggled down under the
covers. “Sleep tight – and let’s hope Joe does too, eh?”
Hoss
nodded sleepily but then a thought struck him. “Pa? Why doesn’t Joe go to bed
first? He’s the youngest, so he should go to bed first – that’s only fair!”
Fighting
to keep the laughter out of his voice, Ben just said “Good night, Hoss,” and
chuckled his way downstairs, as Joe gnawed fretfully on his fingers.
“Come to
Mama,” Marie crooned lovingly. She delved into her pocket and produced an ivory
and coral teething ring, dangling it temptingly in front of her son. Joe
reached forward and grabbed it, happily substituting it for his fingers. “Poor
little man – you are having a time of it, aren’t you?” She carefully eased her
little finger into his mouth, feeling the sharp pinpricks on Joe’s upper gums.
“It looks like both his front teeth are coming in together.”
Ben put
his arm around Marie’s slender waist and hugged her close, breathing in her
heady scent. Was it too much to hope that Joe would drop quickly off to sleep,
so that he could have some precious time alone with his wife?
The baby
gummed happily on the teething ring, making loud slurping sounds and dribbling
voraciously. Ben wondered if it would be possible to strap a sponge underneath
his chin. It would certainly save on the dozen or so bibs Joe soaked through
each day.
“Did
Adam and Hoss have trouble teething?” Marie asked, swaying back and forth in an hypnotic routine, guaranteed to soothe a fractious child,
even one as stubborn as Joe.
“I had a
nurse for Adam,” Ben admitted. “She looked after him and I tended to blot that
sort of thing out, as much as I could. I wasn’t really very good with babies in
those days. I seem to remember she would rub a little whiskey on his gums and
that seemed to quieten him down nicely. It also helped when he wouldn’t go to
sleep at night.” He raised a quizzical eyebrow at his wife, who bristled
indignantly.
“Ben
Cartwright! If you think I am going to let a drop of liquor pass this child’s
lips, why…!” Catching sight of the broad smile, Marie contented herself with
crooning softly to her baby, who responded with a sleepy gurgle. “And what about Hoss?”
“Hoss
was late in getting his teeth,” Ben recalled. “And when they did come through,
it was without any fuss at all – Inger didn’t even realise until he gave her a
sharp nip one day when she was nursing him!” They both chuckled at the picture
of poor Inger’s surprised discomfort.
Ben
leaned over and laid a gentle hand on his baby son’s downy head. “This little
one is determined to be different, isn’t he? Only a few month
old and already asserting his personality and making his Mama and Papa dance in
attendance!” He smiled fondly at the child, knowing that there was nothing else
in life he would rather do than to be right here, with his wife and precious
child. This made all the years of hard-work and heartbreak worthwhile and put
everything into complete and clear perspective.
Settling
down on either side of the fireplace, they started to relax, thankful for a
little peace and solitude. Watching the baby carefully, Marie saw his eyes
become heavy and rose slowly to settle him on the settee. Joe gave a small
grunt of displeasure at the movement, then drifted
into sleep, one hand still firmly clutching the corals.
“I had a
letter today,” Marie said, careful to keep her voice low. Ben paused in the
acting of filling his pipe, his suspicions immediately aroused.
“May I
ask who it was from?”
Gulping
nervously, Marie gave him an anxious smile, while delving down the side of the
chair and pulling out a slightly bedraggled envelope. “It’s from Cousin
Clarissa…”
With
great difficulty, Ben stifled an explanation. “Again?
Can’t the woman leave us in peace? She was only here a few weeks ago and in two
days she almost managed to turn our lives upside down! What on earth does she
want this time?”
“She’s
coming to stay for a few days,” Marie admitted, handing the letter across. “She
didn’t post the letter until after the stage had left, so it’s too late to stop
her.”
“That
woman will set foot in this house over my dead body!” Ben vowed. “She’s nothing
but trouble and I don’t care if she’s family! I am not giving her house room
again – never!”
**********
“How
lovely to see you again,” Ben said, his face wreathed in insincere smiles.
Clarissa
held out a limp hand. “I felt it was my bounden duty,” she responded, with a martyred
air. “After all, it can’t be easy for you, living hand to mouth in this
uncivilised country, with barely a roof over your heads.
“We’re
very comfortable here,” Marie protested weakly, feeling the force of Clarissa’s
not-inconsiderable personality effectively stifling any further argument. She
looked at Ben nervously and wondered what the strange noise emanating from him
could be. It was a full minute before she realised he was grinding his teeth in
frustration.
Clarissa
bustled forward into the house and went straight to the downstairs bedroom. “I
trust your children are not going to discomfit me this time?”
she enquired over her shoulder.
An
especially loud crunch was plainly audible. Marie just hoped Ben had not
fractured a molar – there were enough dental traumas in the family without him
adding to them.
“Hoss
made a full recovery,” she assured her visitor. “Both he and Adam are very
well, thank you for asking.”
“I was
not enquiring after their health, my dear, I was merely trying to ensure I was
not going to be recklessly exposed to any more life-threatening diseases,”
Clarissa informed her, in withering tones. “But what about
your youngest son, Benjamin?”
“Joseph
is having a little trouble with his teeth,” Ben responded weakly.
A loud
sigh greeted this. “How terribly inconvenient. I do
hope he will have enough consideration not to disturb my nighttime repose.
Please see to it.” With that, she closed the door firmly behind her.
Ben
walked with weary resignation across the room, and picked up Joe. Holding the
baby up to his face, he regarded him gravely. “Now Joseph, it’s time you and I
had a little chat. It’s about this teething – could you possibly see your way
to not crying in pain? Your Cousin Clarissa finds it rather trying!”
While
the words made no sense to him, Joe reacted happily to the teasing tone of his
father’s voice and reached out to pat his face gently, gurgling contentedly as
he responded in his own unique language.
“Is that
a deal then? You’ll be as quiet as a mouse for Cousin Clarissa?” Laughingly,
Ben disengaged Joe’s tiny fingers from his nose and cocked his head to listen
to the stream of babble that answered his query. He caught hold of Marie’s hand
and pulled her into an embrace. “Joe says that he will be a good boy, on
condition that you and I go away for a trip of our own, to recover from this
visit!”
“I think
I will need a holiday,” Marie agreed, leaning in to Ben’s side, slipping an arm
around his waist and dropping a kiss into the crook of Joe’s neck.
“Excuse
me!” the outraged tones could only come from one person. “That sort of
behaviour is highly unsuitable before an impressionable child! You are setting
a most reprehensible example.”
“What is
wrong with Joe knowing his parents love one another?” Marie enquired sharply.
Clarissa
sighed wearily. “My dear, I know you are a foreigner and that the niceties of
polite society are a closed book to you, but you really must take the word of
someone with considerably more experience than you.”
“I was not
aware that you were married, cousin,” Ben retorted. It was bad enough to be
interrupted, but to be berated for his actions in the privacy of his own home
was beyond endurance. “My congratulations. Will we be
meeting the lucky groom?” He looked around, almost as if he expected the lid of
Clarissa’s trunk to spring open and a slightly crushed husband to enfold
himself from his enforced
incarceration.
“Do not
be obtuse, Benjamin! You know very well what I mean. Children need discipline
and stability and their parents should set a good example by behaving with
restraint and decorum, not – flaunting themselves wantonly!” She turned on her
heel and stomped back into her bedroom.
“I’ve
always had a hankering to be a wanton woman,” Marie said teasingly. “Do you
think my eau de nil silk nightdress would fit the part? Or
perhaps the peach one?”
“Both
would be equally unsuitable in Clarissa’s eyes – and just perfect in mine!” Ben
assured her and they exchanged a meaningful look that held great promise, but
would undoubtedly have shocked their guest to her stern and moralistic core.
**********
“I don’t
see why I’ve gotta get all gussied up!” Hoss complained, as Adam brushed his
hair smooth with water. “Cousin Clarissa likes me just as I am – and I like her
too!” He stared defiantly at his brother.
Adam
sighed deeply, for his younger brother appeared to be the only member of the
family to meet Cousin Clarissa’s exacting standards. Her habit of plying Hoss
with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of candies had won her a staunch ally.
“Just don’t each so many peppermints that you’re sick again,” he cautioned.
Hoss
gave him an offended look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he
declared and marched downstairs, hugging himself with glee. Cousin Clarissa had
shared a secret with him - this time she had stocked up this time with lemon
drops, believing them more easily digestible for a young child. Hoss’ mouth
watered as he thought of the delicious treats awaiting him.
Marie
was already seated at the table, trying to coax Joe to take a spoonful of
sieved apples, while he resolutely keeping his mouth shut. When she eventually
succeeded, Joe tolerated the food for ten seconds, before spitting the apples
out.
“That
child should learn to eat what he is given and to be grateful for it!” Clarissa
stated firmly, as Marie scraped the apples from Joe’s chin. Hoss sat down
beside her and slid his hand into hers in an unmistakable gesture of
solidarity.
“He’s
still teething and off his food,” Marie ventured, deciding to admit defeat and
offering her son some milk instead. She sighed with relief as Joe’s hands
reached forward eagerly and he guzzled his milk happily.
“Mark my
words – you are making a rod for your own back!” Clarissa said, with all the
understanding and certainty of one who has resolutely avoided all contact with
babies. “That child needs to be taught some discipline before it’s too late.
All this pampering is simply not good enough.”
“What do
you suggest?” Ben asked dryly. “Should I warm his backside for him or send him
to chop some firewood?”
Adam
sniggered softly. “With all those diapers padding his butt, I don’t think he’d
feel any paddling, Pa! And as we don’t have an axe that’s small enough for his hands,
I guess we’ll just have to put up with him a bit longer.”
Clarissa
heaved a long-suffering sigh and looked fondly down at Hoss, who was sucking
contentedly on a lemon-drop. At least one child was grateful for his food! She
gave a contemptuous look at Adam, who was leaning across the table to coo at
his baby brother. “All joints on the table will be carved!” she barked, and was
satisfied to see the boy shoot back into his seat.
“For
what we are about to receive, May the Lord make us truly grateful,” Ben
intoned, and then carved the roast pork with a professional flourish. He put
three slices onto Clarissa’s plate and then added a generous serving of
cabbage, knowing how the vegetable disagreed with her digestive system. “Do
help yourself to potatoes,” he murmured politely.
Clarissa
stolidly munched her way through the detested cabbage, casting disdainful
glances across at Joe, who was contentedly blowing milky bubbles, interspersed
with the odd snuffle.
Catching
the disapproving looks, Marie hastened to explain. “I’m afraid Joseph is
getting over a bout of bronchitis, and still has a cold.”
“Well,
if you can sit at table with a child who sounds like a herd of sheep, who am I too argue?” Clarissa retorted. “I am merely a guest.
“She took a close look at Joe. “I thought he was looking rather puny,” she
said. “Which is all the more reason he should be made to eat.
I simply cannot abide to see good food going to waste.” She patted Hoss’s hand
gently. “He needs to follow his brother’s splendid example, doesn’t he? There
is nothing quite so satisfying as seeing a man who
enjoys his food.”
Beaming
proudly, Hoss puffed out his little chest as far as it would go and held his
plate out for a second helping.
“You
will grow up to be a big, strong man!” praised Clarissa. “But unless that baby
knuckles down, he’ll be a poor little creature.” She turned to Marie. “He must
get that from your side of the family, dear. All the Cartwrights are solidly
built men; men a lady can rely on. No flightiness in our blood.”
Having
recently discovered the poetry of Lord Byron, Adam was entranced with the
romantic ideal represented by the poet – pale and languid, dressed in
unrelieved black; dashing, devastatingly brilliant and irresistible to the
ladies. Somehow, a “solid build” did not seem to fit that mould. He laid his
knife and fork neatly on the plate and shook his head politely when offered
another slice of roast pork. “Mad, bad and dangerous to know,” he
thought enviously and wondered how he could possibly cut short Cousin
Clarissa’s visit this time. Sadly, despite frantic conjecturing, nothing came
to mind.
After
dinner, Hop Sing cleared the low table in front of the fire, and retreated back
into the kitchen.
“No
coffee for me,” Clarissa announced. “It is far too invigorating at this time of
night. But I will partake of a nice dish of tea.” She opened her eyes wide with
disbelief when Hop Sing re-emerged, carrying a copper
canister full of water in one hand and a small, shallow tub in the other. “Is
this one of these strange western customs, Benjamin?” she enquired acerbically.
“Don’t
you bath babies back east?” Adam asked, with an innocent expression. Hoss
thought his father must have swallowed something that had gone down the wrong
way, as he seemed to choke into his napkin.
“Perhaps
you would like to help?” Marie added, undressing Joe, while Hop Sing readied
everything in preparation.
With a
vivid memory of what had happened the last time the baby’s diaper was removed
in her presence, Clarissa retreated to a position she judged to be safely out
of his range before responding. “My dear, I scarcely think it is appropriate
behaviour to disrobe that child in my presence – some things should be kept
private and under wraps, so to speak.” Clarissa sat back, folded her hands in
her lap and assumed a pious air.
“It is
perfectly natural to give a baby a bath!” Ben exploded. “And this is the
warmest and most suitable place in the house to do just that!”
“Would you
like to help?” Marie asked, with a definite twinkle in her eye. Sprawled
unselfconsciously in her lap, Joe gave his cousin a charming smile and opened
his arms invitingly, kicking his legs up in delight as his mother gently
stroked his bare tummy.
Clarissa
put a hand up to her eyes in horror. “In all my days,” she whimpered piteously.
“I never thought to be exposed to such a sight!”
“Come
out onto the porch with me,” Hoss urged. “It’s nice and peaceful out there and
we can talk.”
A small,
round object, with an unmistakeable scent of lemon, was pressed into his hand.
“At least one person in this family has a modicum of sense!” Clarissa said, and
stalked out of the room, Hoss trotting eagerly in her wake. Neither of them
turned around when Joe crowed with glee as he splashed happily in his bath.
**********
“I’ve
been practising every day!” Hoss confided. “Do you want to see?”
Clarissa
hustled him around to the side of the house, where they were hidden from sight
and out of earshot, and then nodded. “Go right ahead! And remember – I’ll be
watching carefully, so do your best!”
Hoss
nodded solemnly, then crouched down, his arms bent at
his sides, and cocked his head to one side. Gradually, his face took on a
slightly pained expression, with the merest hint of surprise. He shifted
position slowly, creeping around while still doubled over and letting out a low
and prolonged “squa-awk!” These noises then increased in volume and frequency,
finally resulting in a crow of jubilation, whereupon the boy turned around and
examined the ground with evident pleasure and pride.
“Oh
wonderful - bravo!”
Clarissa clapped her hands together with glee and kissed Hoss on both cheeks.
“A magnificent performance – I couldn’t have done it better myself!”
Hoss
flushed with pride. “I’ve been watching the chickens
everyday, and trying to copy how they look when they lay an egg. Was it really
good?”
“It was
perfect.” Clarissa put her arm around his shoulders. “But remember – this is
our secret. No one must know that I taught you. I think that everyone else has
forgotten that I used to be a young girl, full of laughter and mischief. They
all expect me to be a crotchety old maid, and I do so hate to disappoint them.
But I sensed a kindred spirit in you, Hoss and decided to pass down my skill.”
“Thanks!”
Hoss reached up and planted a wet kiss on her cheek and then ran back indoors.
In the
soft, warm darkness, Clarissa reached up and laid her hand upon the damp spot on her face
and smiled at the memories it brought back. She could not say what had drawn
her to Hoss, but she sensed that they shared a commonality that spoke across
the generations. And it was getting increasingly difficult to keep up this
pretence of being disdainful and disapproving, when sometimes she longed to
kick up her heels and laugh uproariously. But to do that, would be to invite
pity and sympathy – and Clarissa could not bear that. Duty – the sense of
responsibility towards a family member, that she could
cope with, but not pity. No, anything was better that to be an object of pity.
“I had
my dreams,” she whispered, so that only the stars could hear her. “So very many dreams.”
Straightening
her back, and fixing a sour expression onto her face, she walked back towards
the house, back towards her cousin and his family, in the full and certain realisiation that she could never really be a part of their
lives, no matter how often she might visit. Exclusion was nothing new to
Clarissa, she was used to be alone, but something about Hoss had stirred a
longing in her soul, and it was with a painful joy that she realised there was
now one person in the world who really loved her.
How easy
it would be to pick up baby Joseph, to cuddle him close and pretend, just for one
moment, that he was her baby – but then she would have to give him back. No, it
was better to hold back, to discourage people from thinking too deeply about
her emotions, to project an unpleasant image. Anything was better than evoking
sympathy. Clarissa could deal with many things – but not with that.
The
lamps cast a soft, golden glow around the family
clustered together, Marie at their heart, hers arms enfolding a rosy-cheeked
baby, his downy golden curls still damp, chuckling happily, the very picture of
contentment. Clarissa favoured them with a forced smile.
“It is
getting late and I am very tired. I think I will retire to my room now.”
“Sleep
well,” Marie called.
Clarissa
fought the temptation to join them. “Joseph – he is very like you, my dear. You
are truly blessed.” Then she shut the door behind her, leaned against it and
let the tears pour down her face.
**********
Hoss
glared balefully at Joe. “Go check on the baby, Hoss!” he muttered. Everyone
else was outside, enjoying the spring day and he had to check the baby was all
right! “What do they think you’re gonna do, eh? You don’t do nothing,
‘cept make a fuss. You’re just a noisy nuisance, that’s what you are.”
Joe
gurgled happily in response and babbled some nonsense in return, waving one
fist around, as if to emphasise his point.
“I don’t
know what you want!” Hoss said. He watched as Joe stuffed his fingers into his
mouth and started to chew frantically upon them, whimpering slightly. “Aw,
don’t cry now.” Tentatively, he patted the baby, but this just seemed to make
matters worse, and large, fat tears welled up in Joe’s eyes, making them appear
even greener than normal.
“Stop
that!” Hoss pleaded, feeling totally helpless. He didn’t like the baby – he was
just a nuisance, getting in the way and always demanding attention, but even
so, Hoss hated seeing him in pain. He looked around for the familiar coral
teething ring, but it was nowhere to be seen. A cry forced its way passed Joe’s
fingers and it was more than Hoss could stand.
“Here –
take this! You can chaw down real good on a lemon drop!” Generosity knew no
bounds as Hoss closed his brother’s small finger around the hard candy and
watched as Joe instinctively stuffed it into his mouth. At first, the rosebud
lips puckered at the unusual taste, but the sweet taste soon reconciled Joe,
and his eyes boggled with delight. Hoss sat back, a feeling of selfless
gratitude suffusing his being. “Don’t you start expecting candy now,” he warned
sternly. “This is just because I can’t stand to hear you cry no more. I don’t
get that much candy.”
Joe’s
eyes seemed to bulge a little further out in agreement. His face took on an
interesting dusky shade, and with a sense of horror, Hoss realised the sweet
was no longer in Joe’s hand – it was inside his mouth and his baby brother was
choking.
“Joe!
Spit it out!” The baby ignored the frantic cries. “Come on, Joe!” he pleaded
frantically, picking up the baby and giving him a shake. A strangulated,
gagging noise answered him, followed by a croaking whoop as Joe tried
desperately to pull some air into his lungs.
“Pa! Pa!
Come quick – it’s Joe!”
His
father raced in from the yard, his heart pounding twice as fast as his
footsteps. There was no time to think, only to act. Ben grabbed his baby out of
Hoss’ arms, holding the stiff little body so that his torso lay along his arm,
facing the ground and then administered three smart slaps between the small
shoulder blades.
Nothing. No answering whoop of breath, no
outraged cry. Ben heaved in a deep breath and repeated the process. At the
outer edges of his consciousness, he could hear Marie crying and Adam trying to
comfort her. He had to think – how could he save his son? In desperation, Ben
repeated the actions, cupping his hand, so that it reverberated against the
tiny back.
There
was a hollow clatter on the floor and then Joe’s body stiffened, his legs
spasmed out in fury and he bellowed his protest against this treatment. Ben
could feel the tears streaming down his face as he held his son up, reassured by
the angry screams that he was all right.
“Oh
Joseph! It’s
all right now – everything is all right. You’re safe and Papa has got you.” The
words poured out as he hugged his indignant child in a fierce embrace.
“And I
thought you didn’t believe in smacking a baby, Ben Cartwright” Clarissa said
slyly. She released her hold on Marie’s shoulders. “Your baby is fine, my dear,
just fine. But he needs you now.” The look in her eyes was very tender as she
watched Marie envelope Joe in her arms, running her hands all over his body,
reassuring herself that he was really still here, alive and well and screaming.
“I
didn’t mean it!” Hoss blurted out. “I didn’t mean to hurt him – honest I
didn’t! I was only trying to help.”
Ben and
Marie were too absorbed to hear him, but Clarissa took one look at the lemon
drop lying on the floor and knew. “Of course you didn’t,” she soothed, getting
down onto her knees and holding her arms wide. “Of course you didn’t.”
Adam
watched in astonishment as Hoss flung himself into Clarissa’s embrace and
sobbed against her shoulder.
*********
“I do
hate to disappoint you, Benjamin, but I fear I must be leave
you,” Clarissa announced. “I know how much you need my assistance, but I have received
an urgent cry for help from dear Cousin Albert and I really cannot ignore him
in his hour of need.”
“Of
course you cannot,” Ben agreed, trying to keep the jubilation from his voice.
“You are so selfless, Cousin.”
“I do my
best,” Clarissa agreed.
Hoss
pushed his oatmeal aside and smiled up at her. “I sure will miss you,” he
confided, then hugged her tightly.
It was
difficult to breathe under such force, but Clarissa managed to whisper “And I
you, my dear friend Hoss. My dear boy.”
*********
“Have
you heard?” Adam announced breathlessly. “There’s going to be a talent show in
town!”
Hoss
came charging in on his heels. “And I’m gonna enter!”
Elder
brother surveyed the younger contemptuously. “And just what are you going to
do?”
“This!”
Hoss settled himself into position and arranged his features into a perfect
mimicry of a hen about to lay an egg. His family watched spellbound as he
portrayed the agony and ecstasy of laying an egg and burst into hearty applause
at the culmination.
“Who
ever taught you to do that, son?” Ben enquired.
Hoss
beamed up at him. “A friend,
The
End
May
2004