The Legacy that Matters
By Meira Bracha
July 2002
This story is set in 1896 and is a sequel to “Loss
and Legacy” and “Responsibilities”. Joe is now fifty-five and Adam sixty-seven.
I modeled Adam’s post-retirement activity on the experience of my father-in-law,
who retired from a long teaching career at the age of sixty-five and has
since devoted himself to studying art and becoming an accomplished painter
and sculptor. In Adam’s case, painting didn’t seem like such a great
leap from creating architectural drawings.
It had happened imperceptibly over the years. Long days in the saddle
and nights spent on the hard ground became increasingly unforgiving to old
bones and arthritic joints. And the less he was able to go see first
hand what was happening in his cattle, timber and mining operations which
were scattered through his vast holdings, the more it made sense to turn over
most of the business decisions to someone younger.
Most people who knew Ben Cartwright might have predicted that he could never
have relinquished control. He had always ruled the Ponderosa as kind
of benevolent dictator. Sure, he would listen to his sons’ council,
but he expected his word to be the final say. Men of all ages referred
to Joe, Hoss and even Adam, as Ben’s boys, even as they attained their thirtieth
birthdays and well beyond.
Perhaps the change began when Hoss died following a brief illness at age
thirty-seven, followed in less than a year by Joe’s bride Alice. After
those events, Ben had recognized Joe’s need to keep busy mentally as well
as physically and had ceded increased responsibilities to him.
Nurturing and guiding Jamie, the youth he adopted in the year prior to Hoss’s
death, had helped Ben adjust to his decreased roll running the Ponderosa and,
to put it plainly, running Joe.
By the time Jamie reached manhood, Joe had remarried and was raising a family
in the house in which he himself had grown up. Joe’s older son, Eric,
married young and now was the father of a little girl named Dorothy.
Marie, Joe’s middle child, at eighteen was the most sought after eligible
young woman in the vicinity of Virginia City. Her younger brother, Clayton,
was still in school, but chaffing at the bit to be done with it.
Jamie followed his brothers’ lead by prolonging his youthful bachelorhood.
In his twenties he left the Ponderosa and worked his way around the western
United States, periodically returning to reconnect with his adopted family.
When he was thirty he surprised everyone by coming home for good, accompanied
by a wife.
~~~~~~~~~
Two old friends sat on the bench outside the general store. The younger
one had thick wavy white hair and a vigorous manner, which belied his eighty-plus
years. The other was a somewhat shrunken curmudgeon, well into his nineties,
but with a manner that suggested that very little escaped his notice.
Together they watched the passing foot, horse and wagon traffic. Roy
Coffee shook his head and drawled, “Sheriff’s Dee-partment they call it now.
The sheriff and deputies are all dressed up in matching shirts and hats like
some kind of performing cowboy show at the rodeo. Things sure have changed
in Virginia City.”
“Oh stop complaining old man,” rumbled Ben, his voice still deep and resonant.
“You tell me the same thing every time I see you. Enjoy your leisure.
I know I enjoy mine.”
The wizened ex-sheriff shook his head. “Ben, if anyone had told me
you would ever be content to set around doin’ nothin’ fer years on end I’d
of told them they were talkin’ ‘bout the wrong Ben Cartwright! Folks
‘round here thought you would be top boss on the Ponderosa forever.”
“Well then folks ‘round here didn’t understand what the Ponderosa is all
about. It has meant so much to me precisely because I aimed to be passing
it on to my children and grandchildren. Why should I have deprived myself
of the pleasure of seeing the next generation run the place while I was still
alive?”
“Anyway, who says I’m doing nothing? Just today I chaperoned that
scamp Little Clay to school. Seems he’s been spending some of his school
days fishing. Would you believe that Joe’s youngest is as devilish as
he was? Of course it’s no more than that son of mine deserves, after
what he put me through when he was growing up. Clay’s mother Millie
is busy fussing over her little granddaughter and keeping a tight rein on
Marie, so I was glad to help out with the truant. Now that Jamie’s wife
is in the family way too, things are bound to get even livelier on the Ponderosa.”
“Ben, it’s still hard fer me to think of that empire of yours bein’ inhabited
by womenfolk and babies,” said Roy. “It always seemed like the last
place round these parts a man could go for the company of other men only.”
“Now Roy, you’re not suggesting you mind a little feminine company are you?
Anyway, my boys all had mothers and they were all babies once. To me,
the way things are now feels like the way they were meant to be. Well,
almost.” Ben fell silent as his thoughts drifted to his beloved son
Hoss, dead twenty-four years, and to the long-absent Adam, whose last visit
home had been for Hoss’s funeral.
Thinking of Adam reminded Ben that he hadn’t checked for mail in several
days. He walked over to the post office and was well rewarded.
There, on top of the ranch equipment circulars and financial correspondence
addressed to Joe, was a letter in a creamy heavyweight envelope with a Boston,
Massachusetts postmark and a neatly written address. Ben used his pocketknife
to carefully open it, held the letter at arms’ length, squinted, and read
the following:
Dear Pa,
I hope this letter finds you well. Please give
my best regards to Joseph and Jamie and their families. I was glad
to hear in your last letter how the Ponderosa continues to thrive.
As I have told you many times before, it is tremendously gratifying to me
to hear how ably Joe is running things.
Pa, I admit that I am more tempted by your latest request for my return
to Nevada then I have been previously. My young cousin Howard Stoddard
has proven himself more than capable of managing the shipping line, and I
find myself rather bereft of responsibilities. However, this has given
me the opportunity to finally spend some time seriously studying art and actually
drawing and painting. This may sound selfish, but I do not want to
abandon this pleasant diversion now that I finally have time to engage in
it.
This does not mean I would not like to visit with you. My schedule
is far more flexible than it used to be. From what you say, I take it
that your schedule is similar. If it would not be taking you away from
anything pressing, and if you long to recapture a taste of your youth with
some delicious New England seafood dinners, not to mention enjoy the company
of your oldest child, you are hereby invited for a visit; time and duration
to be of your choosing.
Your faithful son,
Adam C.
~~~~~~~~~
“Joseph, you may run the Ponderosa, but you do not run me! I have
bought my ticket, I wired Adam, and I am leaving tomorrow.” Ben
was using his commanding, deep voice to impressive effect.
“Pa, I haven’t won an argument with you in fifty-five
years and I don’t imagine I am about to start now. I just wish you had
someone traveling with you is all. I wouldn’t mind seeing the
old Yankee granite-head myself, but now that Candy’s left, yet again, I don’t
feel right leaving Jamie in charge; what with his first child coming soon.
“
Ben was now cajoling. “So you will bring me to
the rail station in Carson City tomorrow? Otherwise I’ll ride there
myself and put my horse up in the livery.”
“Are you asking me or giving me an order, Pa?”
Ben smiled sweetly. “Now since when do I give orders
to the boss?”
Joe made a face and sighed. “Mm-hmm. You
and I know, even if we’ve got everybody else fooled, that Benjamin Cartwright
is still the real boss around here. I’ll bring you to the rail station
tomorrow.”
When Joe reflected back on it later, it had been a hurried
and unemotional leave-taking. They had got a late start to Carson City
and only had a few minutes at the station before the train pulled in.
Joe’s parting words to his Pa were, “Remember to take the digitalis the doc
gave you!”
~~~~~~~~~
Joe was saddling up to ride out to the lumber camp when
he heard the buckboard come barreling into the yard. “And you are always
telling me to slow down! I thought you two were going to the cabin to
visit with Kate after you escorted Clay to school.” Joe reached up
intending to help his wife and daughter descend from the wagon, but Millie
remained seated, reached into her skirt pocket, and wordlessly handed Joe
a telegram.
He unfolded it and read:
JOSEPH CARTWRIGHT VIRGINIA CITY NEVADA STOP PA DIED IN HIS SLEEP LAST NIGHT
STOP I AM SO SORRY STOP I WILL BRING HIM HOME BY FASTEST POSSIBLE RAIL CONNECTION
STOP WILL WIRE WITH ARRIVAL TIME WHEN KNOWN STOP ADAM CARTWRIGHT BOSTON MASSACHUSETTS
STOP
“Pa died. In Boston. With Adam.” Joe
whispered. He was silent for a minute. “Marie, could you please
go in and let Jean know what’s happened? I’ll ride out to the north
pasture and tell Eric and Jamie. Millie, would you mind riding over
to the cabin yourself to tell Kate?”
~~~~~~~~~
A week later a solemn quintet waited at the Carson City
rail station next to a buckboard that was backed up close to the platform.
Joseph Cartwright stood still and stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.
Jamie Cartwright kept looking down the track and pacing. Marie stood
next to her older brother Eric. She reached out to try to put her arm
around Clayton, but her younger brother squirmed away and stood by himself,
absent-mindedly kicking at the floor of the platform with the toe of his boot.
Then the train was there. A tall, distinguished-looking,
nearly bald man in his sixties, with a thick gray beard, came slowly down
the steps from one of the passenger cars, leaning heavily on a cane.
He looked around, then directed the two porters who were behind him to place
the coffin they were carrying on the waiting wagon. A third porter deposited
two carpetbags at the gentleman’s feet. The gentleman handed them generous
tips from his jacket pocket. Only then did he turn to greet his waiting
relatives. This was a long-delayed reunion between Adam, Joe and Jamie,
and Adam’s first meeting with Eric, Marie and Clayton. Adam shook the
hands of his brothers, nephews and niece. He said softly, with some
amazement, “Marie, Pa told me you looked like your grandmother, but I had
to see you to realize how much.”
At hearing that one word, “Pa”, Joe laid his hands and
forehead against the coffin. He blinked his eyes several times, as if
hoping that he could change what he saw. Jamie stood with his hands
in his pockets, shuffling from foot to foot, weeping silently but unabashedly.
Here lay the man who had taken him in as a troubled youth, accepted him into
his family, and turned him onto a good and straight path through life.
“Joe, Adam. I promise you right here to always try to act in a way that
would make him proud he made me a Cartwright.”
Joe straightened up and briefly placed his hands on his younger brother’s
shoulders. “You’ve already been doing that for years. Pa
said so often,” he reassured him. Then Joe turned to his big brother,
who had stepped back and was looking uncharacteristically awkward and unsure
of himself. Joe reached up and engulfed him in an embrace. “It’s
good to see you, Adam. Let’s all go home now.”
~~~~~~~~~
The funeral was well attended. There were neighboring
ranchers and miners, former and current ranch hands, townsfolk and country
folk, and more than a few Paiutes and Shoshones. Ben Cartwright was
buried next to his third wife. The young minister did a passable job
of eulogizing the man who had settled in the area before there was a Virginia
City, and had been so much a part of the history and prosperity of this region.
Many people approached the family after the ceremony with stories about how
Ben Cartwright had helped them or their parents or their grandparents over
the years.
~~~~~~~~~
That night after everyone else went to bed, Joe and Adam
sat together in the great room, much as they had twenty-four years previously
at a similar, sad occasion. They spoke about the funeral and the
turnout and marveled over all the old friends and acquaintances who had been
there. Joe took a deep breath and came out with it. “Adam, now
that you’ve retired from your business, why not come back here to stay?”
“You sound like Pa. I’m sixty-seven years old,
and pretty much a physical wreck. What would I do here? I get
along fine in Boston, but I would be next to useless on a working ranch.
Anyway, I have plenty to keep me busy.”
“Believe me, Adam, if I needed someone to herd cattle
and muck out the barn, some old Yankee would not be my first choice for a
ranch hand!” Joe replied. “But you belong here. You helped Pa
build up the Ponderosa when Hoss and I were too young to do much more than
be in the way. You designed this house. I could use help with
the business end of things here and that’s the truth, especially now that
Pa is gone. Does Boston really have such a hold on you?”
Joe had been rehearsing variations on this speech in his mind for years.
Now all he could do was hope that he had made his point and convinced his
stubborn and lonely older brother that it was time to come home. But
he was about to be disappointed.
“Joe, I like my life. Sure, I miss the Ponderosa.
Memory doesn’t do justice to how beautiful it is. But it is your place
now, yours and Jamie’s and your families’. “
Adam went on. “I was afraid you might not welcome me here after my
long absence, especially after what happened to Pa. He deserved to finish
his days here, on the Ponderosa. I shouldn’t have dragged him to Boston.”
“Adam, Pa said over and over these past few years that
his true legacy is not the Ponderosa, but his family. As deeply as he
loved it, the land was a means to an end. I’m pretty sure that was not
what he had always felt, but he came to believe it wholeheartedly. So
I am sure he would have considered it fitting, if he had to die, to die in
the company of his first-born son, in the city where that son was born.”
“It’s a comfort to hear you say that. How did you
get so wise, Joe? Or rather, who are you and what have you done with
my wild little brother?” Adam was smiling now.
“I have been blessed with the love of a good woman and
worn out by the trials of raising three children,” Joe replied.
“Ah yes, your children. They’re wonderful.
Pa told me that Clay could be considered your comeuppance.
Eric seems as steadfast as his namesake, if not quite as big. Marie
is charming. And Joe, Millie is really something. She may not
be the woman I would have imagined you marrying, but I can see that you are
perfect together.”
“You mean that you remember my courting delicate china
dolls and exotic older women and here I am married to the hard-working daughter
of the local dairy farmer whom I have known since childhood but managed not
to take notice of until I was thirty-three years old?”
“Something like that. I didn’t mean any offense
Joe. She is just right. You have something I never found.
I should have told you this a long time ago, that I’ve admired the courage
it took for you to pick yourself up and start again after your devastating
loss.”
“Adam, Pa told me something years ago, after Laura White
died, and I relied on it even more after I lost Alice. It’s something
your grandfather told him when your mother died. He said to keep a warm
spot in your heart for her but not to let her memory take over your life.
The lesson is that a person has to move on. Pa did it. I did
it too. I’ve never regretted it. Your life isn’t over either,
Adam.”
Adam tried to lessen the impression he knew he had given
that he was lonely. “My life hasn’t been totally devoid of female companionship.
But somehow after watching Pa weather his losses, and experiencing several
youthful disappointments of my own, I never met anyone with whom I dared to
risk marriage. At my age it is a little too late for regrets.
So I am content to spend the rest of my days a bachelor.”
“Did you enjoy running the shipping business, Adam?”
“Enjoy? I don’t know. I got a good
deal of satisfaction making and fulfilling contracts which yielded me a decent
profit. I enjoy the privileges and comforts those profits purchased
for me. And while I was pretty hardheaded, I pride myself on having
been honest and on having treated my employees well. In that sense,
it wasn’t so different from running the Ponderosa. I trust my cousin
to continue running the business in the same spirit.”
“Your letter to Pa said you had pretty much retired.
I know you are painting now, but couldn’t you do that here? You can’t
deny we have some spectacular scenery.”
“I wouldn’t try to deny it. Who knows, maybe my
destiny is to come back here and record this country on canvas. But
I’m not ready yet. There is still so much I want to learn now that I
have the leisure time to do it.”
“If I can’t persuade you to stay permanently, how long
can I keep you here?” asked Joe, who was remembering the extreme brevity of
Adam’s long-ago last visit. “I want to show you everything we’re doing
here now.”
Adam smiled again. Even as a gray-haired man of
fifty-five, Joe was still capable of sounding like the eager youth he remembered.
“I guess the art world will survive if I stay here a month or two. Can
you stand me for that long?”
“Heck yes, Adam. We’re becoming so civilized out
here in Nevada, I don’t have nearly as many run-ins with bushwhackers and
renegades as we used to. I could use a challenge.”
“Very funny.”
Adam and Joe stayed up until dawn, sipping brandy and
reminiscing. They were both beginning to doze in their chairs when Jamie
burst through the door. “Hurry!” he yelled. “I’ve got to get
back to Kate! The baby is here! It’s a boy!”
~~~~~~~~~
Later that day two bleary-eyed uncles and a dazed father gazed down at a
tiny swaddled bundle lying next to his mother in bed. “Welcome to the
Ponderosa, Master Benjamin Cartwright,” Adam intoned solemnly and tenderly.
The three bothers stood side by side, a study in contrasts:
the tall, distinguished eldest, the shorter middle brother with the laughing
eyes and bushy gray hair, and the lanky, red-headed youngest.
Eric stood just behind them with his hands in his pockets. Millie
came in with a pile of neatly folded diapers in her arms, and her granddaughter
Dorothy holding onto her skirt. Marie and Jean followed, carrying
more baby essentials. Even Clay had been allowed to skip school, and
had taken a quick peek at his new cousin before retreating to the kitchen
where he was now foraging for a snack.
Shattering the quiet of the peaceful gathering,
the newest member of the family let out a piercing wail. His voice was
loud and demanded attention. His mother looked a little desperate.
“Should I feed him? Change him? What does he want?”
Millie proceeded to shoo all the visitors out of the room. “Kate,
if you’d like I’ll stay and help you tend to the baby.”
“Better listen to her, Kate. You won’t find a better teacher.”
Jean remarked as she gently pushed her husband and his father and uncles out
the door. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the wails of
the newest family member.
Kate nodded in relief. She and Millie had
to smile when they overheard Joe loudly address his little granddaughter as
he shut the bedroom door behind them. “Doesn’t that figure, Dorothy?
The one who’s really giving the orders around here is still named ‘Ben Cartwright’.”
End
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