Authors Note: This story is dedicated to Ella. A very special friend and fellow Author, Who has shared her time and vast talent whenever I ask. 

Joyeux Noel

By Sadie Spinner

Dec. 2004

Adam Cartwright yawned deeply, and felt a shiver convulse down his spine. He stood at his bedroom window too restless to sleep. That funny nauseous rumble stirred in the pit of his stomach.

The moon outside made everything look like blue diamonds. He could still see the remains of the snow angels his littlest brother and step-mother, Marie, made late this afternoon. For someone who lived all her life in the deep South, it always amazed Adam how much Marie loved the snow. His thoughts turned suddenly from her to his father, a deep frown cut his brow. Ben was not going to be happy with his eldest son when he returned from Carson City. ‘I’ll be lucky to escape with my hide, and make it to Christmas at the rate I seem to be going.’ Adam thought.

It all started two weeks ago.

Marie, his step-mother, had been working very hard since( her arrival unannounced as his father’s new wife,) to win over this strong-willed stubborn young man. That was three, almost four, years ago. Now things were so much better. Adam had finally let her gentle yet fiery heart touch his and he came to understand how deeply she did love him, and in spite of his fear that once he let himself love her, he would be sorry, Adam Cartwright loved her with all his heart. On that day he had gotten into an argument with his younger brother, Hoss, and she sent him to his room. Adam was furious, he felt he was too old to be treated in such a manor, ignoring the fact he was just 14.

He had things to do, things his father had told him needed doing, now he was here in his room and none of the chores were accomplished. His father did not take disregard for his instructions lightly, and in view of his situation the likely hood of a stinging lecture or worse loomed large and dark over his head. An apology to Marie and Hoss might smooth things over, then again, that in his mind, was admitting he was at fault. The sound of Marie’s soft footsteps approaching drew his mind out of the circles in which it was spinning. The tap at the door just before she asked permission to enter gave him time to set his face, to hide his rebellious desire to sulk and scowl.

“Adam.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You had chores and other things your father expected you to accomplish today, did you not?”

“Yes,” he answered softly, looking down, to keep himself from letting her see how angry he still was.

“Look at me when I speak to you young man, just as you do when your father speaks to you.”

The bite in her voice caused him to catch his breath in his throat and raise his head quickly to meet her fiery emerald eyes.

“Sorry.”

She nodded her acceptance. “I think you have had enough time to think on your actions of earlier, I suggest you go do your chores. Your father will be home and it will soon be too dark to do all of them.” With that she stepped back and indicated he should go do as he was told.

With great effort he managed to maintain his temper and with only a quick glare for her, he headed out and down the stairs.

‘Mon Deu.’ That one, is just about the most stubborn child I have ever seen. No wonder he and his father clash so, they are so alike, and I fear my own little one will be as bad if not worse. At that she hurried out and down the stairs remembering she had left him with poor Hop Sing.

In the barn Adam felt his eyes sting, Why was it lately he found the desire to cry, almost overwhelming.

“I’m not a baby . . . I . . . Don’t . . . Cry . . . ” He snarled, as he was forced to drag the sleeve of his jacket across his eyes to disperse the blurry water threatening to trickle out and down his chilled cheeks. ‘Stupid,’ but there was no denying it Adam just felt like crying.

Hoss peeked in around the door, unsure he would be welcome. He was a gentle child, and the fact he had driven his big brother to where Adam had been banned to his room by Mama, hurt him. “Uhm, A-Adam, d-do, yah, um, need help?”

Adam whirled around, his face clearly showed the telltale signs. He opened his mouth to spew out a long blistering detail on how he felt. One look at the pale round face and the clear worried blue eyes, made short work of his rebuttal. Shoulders sagging he muttered, “Nah. it’s okay, Hoss. I’m not mad, at least not very. Right now, I gotta figure out how to get all these things done before pa returns and nails my hide to the barn door.”

“Awww, Adam, pa ain’t never gonna do that? . . . Is he?” A great swallow made Hoss grimace.

“Maybe not, but what little of my hide he leaves, won’t be much comfort at the dinner table.”

Adam shook his head and rolled his eyes, picking up the bucket and moving toward the door. Hoss took it from him with a small apologetic smile. Adam released it and smiled back. “Thanks little brother.” All was well again, for now.

When Ben did get home, it was well after dinner and the boys were all in bed. Marie had been sitting in the blue chair, waiting for her husband, her mind on today and how she should approach it. Should she say nothing, or minimize it? Or should she simply tell Ben how she had handled it? Ben was very clear in his feelings for his boys and how he expected them to respect each other and her, he would not tolerate a breach of this rule. It was, she decided just a winter, pre-Christmas, flare up, and nothing more need be made of it. ‘Ben my darling they are just boys, and testing, always testing, you, me, each other and especially our eldest son, himself.’

Yes, that is how she would leave it. Sighing, she pulled the afghan around her shoulders as she snuggled down reaching for her cup of tea, the book on her lap slid down. Just as she went to retrieve it the front door opened and Ben entered, dusting off a powdery showing of new snow.

“Benjamin, darling you look frozen, here, come let me warm you.” She jumped up, and in doing so, kicked the book under the chair unnoticed in her hurry. She reached her small warm hands up and gently cupped them around his cold face. Her bright green eyes studied his handsome features, worry shown in their sparkle. Shaking out of his warm coat he swept her into his arms. She shivered from the cold radiating from him, but his embrace and subsequent deep passionate kisses thawed both of them. With the ease of lifting a child he scooped her up and carried her to the chair she had just vacated, and sat down pulling her onto his lap. “I missed you today my love.” He huskily whispered as she lay her head on his broad chest and listened to the thump.

“And I you.” She purred.

Ben yawned, and at the frown it brought, his dark chocolate eyes twinkled into pools of contentment and love.

“Benjamin, shame on you! You find me boring? ”

“Ha.” He laughed mischievously. “Whatever else I find you, my darling, boring, is never one of them, not by a long shot.” And he kissed her nose. They sat for a long while in silence, neither speaking, just reveling in one another, the warmth of the fire, the beauty of their home and blessings of their three sons.

The rest of the family had gone into Virginia City for supplies and shopping. Adam found himself alone in the great room the next afternoon. His father had made it very clear that his tolerance for quarreling and other improper behavior had reached its stretched limits. They had enough to do around the ranch, without finding things to fuss over. He knew winter made everyone more touchy. However, Ben left nothing to the imagination, in regards to the ramifications if no immediate improvement in behavior occurred. With a deep sigh, Adam, wandered over to the fireplace and added a new log.

‘How is it I am always the one who catches the grief?’ He placed the big poker back in its place and settled on the large plank table, his feet resting against the hearth. Adam let renewed warmth of the dancing flames as they devoured his gift flow over and around him. His eyes crawled from the hearth to the mantel, ever so slowly his head tilted all the way up to the rafters as he studied the beams. His eyes followed what looked like a deep crack, and without thinking, he leaned back, and continued to follow the line with his eyes and head, until suddenly he crashed backward off the table, landing in a hapless ball. Legs thrown ungracefully up over his torso, his head was nearly under the blue chair, and his arms were spread out on either side, flapping helplessly. It was not without a good deal of twisting and bumping his ear on the leg of the chair that he was able to extricate himself, but not before he managed to pull the book out from under the chair and struggle into a sitting position. Rubbing his stinging ear and side of his head, Adam furrowed his brow turning it over in his hands. He opened it, then curiously flipped through the pages. A few of the words he was able to make out as he was just beginning to study Latin, and he recognized a few that he knew from Marie as French. This seemed to be a song book, but also contained what must be prayers. Upon realizing this belong to Marie, Adam began to feel he was prying, so he put it back under the chair. His face slightly flushed, he got himself straightened up and went back to the kitchen where he was under Hop Sings watchful eye as his payment for yesterday.

“What yo do? Hop Sing hear big bang. I look. No see number one son . . . Why ear all red?”

The little Man grabbed Adam by the sore ear and tugged him over to the window for better light.

“Owww, hey, that hurts” Adam yelped.

Hop Sing snorted, “Not hurt like fatha’ if he find out you rude to Hop Sing.”

Adam scrunched up his face and wrinkled his nose as he bit his lower lip and endured Hop Sings examination of his ear. Shaking his head, Hop Sing let go and muttered, “Too much foolishment.”

“Hop Sing, uh,” Adam fingered his ear. “D-don’t.” His beautiful dark hazel brown eyes never failed to touch the little man. He had often seen how Adam gave up his own plans or let his little brothers have their way. With a fierce glower and shaking of his finger, he gave his ultimatum.

“You no more fooling around, Hop Sing no tell.” Then he smiled and patted the young shoulder.

“You good son, Hop Sing, see many things you do for fatha,’ brothers, and missy Marie.”

Adam blushed deeply, it was not Hop Sing’s way to be lavish with praise. He nodded and bowed his head.

“What uh, Ahem, “ his voice broke “What do you want me to do now?”

Without turning around the little cook directed “You go cellar and bring up turnips, onions and beets.”

Adam rolled his eyes and made a face sticking out his tongue, shaking his head in disgust. He never refused to eat what was put in front of him, a lesson he learned long ago, but that did not mean he had to like all of it. Down in the cold, dark root cellar, Adam loved to experiment with his voice. The construction and multitude of jars, cans and jugs seemed to have a special effect on the tones. So, Adam, began to sing at first softly, then louder, as he worked. One of the old folk tunes called “Greensleeves,” came easily, a lovely, haunting, melody that did not demand any reaches or strains to hit the notes. A tiny spark caught hold in his mind. Adam had unintentionally begun to create a plan.

Sunday was full of promise and question, the day dawned grey and cold. Ben almost chose to stay home and not make the long cold trip to church. But Hoss explained how the Sunday school teacher was going to tell them something special about a Christmas program she was planning to go along with the annual school program. It was not like Hoss to willingly take part in anything that drew attention to himself. He was very shy and aware of his size. This made Ben raise his brow and look at Marie for any help. She just shrugged her shoulders and continued to wipe the food off Joe’s face and hands.

“My, little one, how is it you always wear more than you eat?”

Little Joe giggled, slumping back into his chair. “Uhhhhh.” He rolled his head back and forth wiggling his tongue. His Mama, tisked her own tongue at his actions.

“Joseph!”

Ben’s voice brought the boy up straight instantly, along with both older boys.

The bright hazel green eyes looking innocently out from the raised brow almost hidden by the mass of curls. He shrugged his little shoulders and lifted his hands to the sky. A mischievous twitch at the corner of his lips. Adam covered his face, ‘How on earth, can he get away with that stuff? By now, I would have been sporting about a half dozen, red hand prints, and standing in the corner, not that standing would be bad, compared with sitting.’

“Something the matter Adam?” called Ben.

“Huh, oh, ah, no-no sir.” His cheeks felt hot. Ben stared hard at him for another minute. “Then I think you should go with Hoss and finish the barn chores and get the wagon ready to go to church. Pushing back, his chair Adam nodded. “Yes sir, May I be excused?”

After Ben returned the nod, he sprinted to the door and out.

“I wanna help tooo” Joe pouted.

“No, it is too cold, and you will get in the way.”

“Nuhuuh, I’ms big now . . . I” He loudly protest. When both parents looked at him in the way they did he shrank into the chair, lowering his chin to his chest.

Ben spoke then as if he and Marie were the only ones in the room. “Well, I sure hope one of the Magic Christmas elves aren’t around don’t you Mama?”

“Yes Benjamin, I surly do, it would be very sad, should none of our boys get but a lump of coal and a switch for their Christmas.”

Little Joe gasped, scrambling down off his chair to climb into his Papas’ lap grabbing Ben by the sides of his face, his own little face pale.

“N-N-ooooPapa, Nooo-We’s good, hon-es-, pleezzze Papa, d-don tellded Santa.”

Big tears made their way down the little face. Ben waited a few seconds then wiped the tears and hugged his little boy.

Feeling the need to be at peace with her God at this most Holy time of year, Marie decided to join Ben and the boys.

“Would You mind waiting until I can change? I wish to come with you today.”

Ben looked up from Joe surprised, yet ever so pleased. Marie did not often go with them, as there were still a few members of the congregation, whom haughtily frowned, when she did.

“Of course my love, we will be thrilled, won’t we Joseph?” He hugged the little boy once again, assuring him he was no longer in trouble.

“Uhuh,” He nodded eyes sparkling.

Within the hour the Cartwright family was headed for town, they were in the wagon as it had not snowed all that heavy yet. The cold air and dove grey sky held the promised that nature was not going to wait much longer. Ben drove, Joe chattered excitedly as he snuggled between Ben and Marie. Adam and Hoss huddled in the back, leaning against the back of the seat, both shaking their heads at the speed Joe could talk.

Arriving at the church yard, Ben let his two older boys spend a few minutes with respective friends before they entered. Joe longed to be set free, but his fathers warning quelled his asking.

When the time came, they filed into their usual pew, Adam first, then Hoss and Marie. Joe in his fathers arms, would end up in his lap or Marie’s depending how long or tiresome the service.

They were in luck Reverend Thomas, aware of the weather and season, kept his sermon short, instead they sang more hymns than usual. It was during one of the more solemn tunes Adam happen to glance over at her. There was a look in her eye and they held a misty glitter. Marie had a beautiful voice, and he found her encouragement toward his own developing voice wonderful. Here in his church she did not accompany them in song, as her pure, unmistakable voice, had raised more than a few eyebrows and snorts no matter how carefully the owner tried to conceal them.

Today was no different. Her love of music and song became the center building block for Adam, his thoughts turning to that book. Just before the last hymn, Mrs. Campbell the Sunday school teacher announced that the children would be preforming a special program, Christmas eve day, for all the parents and parishioners. Weather permitting. It would be as she described it “A gift of love, song, and thanks.”As they shook hands with the Reverend, and exited the building Adam began to let his mind form an idea.

Hoss was mildly disappointed, but put up a brave front. He dreaded the thought of having to sing.

“I can sing, huh, Mama.” “Wanna hear me?” and without waiting, Joseph, launched into a rather unbecoming little ditty. His high baby voice, rang loudly, as he forced the words up and out into the clear cold air of the church yard. Heads turned, Ben covered his mouth and the family raced to the wagon and beat a hasty retreat out of town.

With his face rather red, Ben plunked Joe down on the bench and drove toward their home. No one dared say a word. Until, half way home, Joe folded his arms and demanded. “Why’d ya stop me, I wassn’ finish–.”

“Oh, yes you were, and when we get home little boy, you and I are going to have a serious talk.”

Joe buried his little face in his mittens, soft sobs floated up.

Adam wanted so badly to help, but sensing his fathers anger, he decided to hold off, until the cold air had a chance to douse the flame.

Marie pulled her baby into her lap, her own anger already gone, she sent her husband a warning look.

The next few days Adam kept a sharp eye out for Marie and Ben. He had to get his hands on that book, but had no idea where to find it. Other than his parent’s bedroom, which was strictly off limits, but with frustration running high, he dared to take that chance. Holding his breath, he tiptoed in feeling very much like a thief. He quickly swept the room with his eyes. Luck so far was on his side. He spotted it. Glancing over his shoulder sure he was being watched, he snuck it under his shirt and bolted out and down the back stairs.

“Adam, is that you?”

“Oh, ah, yes pa.”

“Well, come in here please. I do not wish to shout.”

Adam came around the corner, one elbow tucked close to his side preventing the book moving and becoming obvious. “Yes sir.” He did his best to not appear nervous or as guilty as he felt.

Ben narrowed his eyes, running them up and down his son. ‘Something’s going on with this one, and it better not have mischief attached. This close to Christmas, or not, he will not be happy when I get through with him. I haven’t had to resort to my hand lately given his age, but, unless he treads lightly, he just may end up, end up. Before Christmas day.’

Adam felt his face grow warm. ‘Dang, how dose he do it? I swear he gets into my head, without my knowing it.’

Ben sat back in his green desk chair, a pencil twirling between his hands, deep brown eyes under darker brows, his expression said more than most people with voice.

“Pa? You wanted me for something?”

“Yes, I need you to come with me this afternoon.”

It was Adam’s turn to look questioningly at his father. ‘How am I gonna get this thing put in a safe place now?’

“Please go saddle our horses, I will tell Hop Sing to let Marie know you are with me, when they return from the Smiths.”

Adam nodded and left, glad to be out of Ben’s sight, and happy to have the chance to hide his crime. When Ben entered the barn Adam was just finishing his chore. “All ready pa, might I ask where we are going, sir?”

‘Hummm way too polite, another clue. When will he ever learn, that I can read him, his actions and body language, but I must admit he can sure hide things when the need arises.’

“I have to go see Mr. Wallace. You remember him?”

“Yes sir, he’s the man with the wood working shop in his barn, right?”

“Yes, I have arranged with him to build a writing desk for,” He hesitated, irked, by the fact there were times Adam still made him feel uncomfortable when referring to Marie.

“Oh, well, I am sure it will be beautiful, I can hardly wait to see it.” The boy jumped in, mounting and waiting for Ben. “What kind of wood did he choose?” Adam has such an affinity for building and a very good eye for fine wood. Ben smiled, this was the Adam he loved, so bright, inquisitive, eyes dancing with anticipation. All his foreboding and suspicions wiped away, Ben let his own eyes dance as Adam chatted away, more like Little Joe, then he would ever want to admit. It was a long cold ride and they both soon fell silent as the air stung their nose and their breath made ice form around the mufflers they wore around their faces.

They could smell the wood shop a long way away, the strong, sweet, wood smoke, curling up and spreading out. Ben and Adam dismounted, and tied their horses up at the rail. Feet crunched over the hard ground as they crossed over to the barn. The doors of the big barn were shut, so Ben knocked.

“Aye, cum in whoever ye be. But be quick, its mighty chilly ta’day.”

Ben opened the door and ushered Adam in first, pulling it shut quickly as possible after them.

The warmth imeaditly tingled their icy faces. Calvin Wallace rose from his work and greeted them, hardily, pumping their hands and almost knocking Adam over with his back slapping. Ben saw the boy wince, but being Adam he did not let it show. As they unwrapped themselves and opened the front of their jackets, they encouraged the heat to draw out the cold that had seeped in. Calvin boomed. “Ben and Adam, how gud’ to see ya!. . . Laddy, yer growin like a summer sapling.” He held the boy by the shoulders and gave him a good once over. “Ahh, this one is coming along just fine, strong and tall. Good stock that’s for sure.”

Adam was still rocking from the man’s shaking him fondly. Changing his direction to face Ben with an exaggerated wink, he asked. “So ye come ta’ check out the gift fer the misses, now have ye? Brung the real expert too, I see, don’t trust ol’ Calvin?”

Adam was already lost to the conversation. He was slowly roaming the shop, eyes wide and full of deep respect for the wood and the man’s hand. Mr. Wallace was a master craftsman; there was no denying it. Gently and reverently, Adam let his fingers sweep feather softly along the various pieces being assembled and then to the table containing the intricate drawings. His eyes glowed with admiration and understanding. Even in his youth, Adam, felt the same when he worked with wood. In the corner stood a delicate ladies writing desk, slender legs and graceful lines, it was almost complete. Needing only a touch more stain and polishing with wax, to highlight the deep luster of the cherry wood.

Calvin squirreled that cherry wood away years ago, waiting for just the right project to do it justice. Once he met Ben Cartwright’s beautiful, delicate, passionate wife, he knew he finally had found a person worthy of this gift. A person who would share his feelings for its beauty. When Ben had approached him, he had no intentions of purchasing such a work of art, not having the financial stability for such a lavish gift. Calvin, however was so impassioned in his demand to let him design this for her, Ben had no choice but to agree. Adam now stood in awe of the desk, with its shiny brass nobs, the rich deep color, the carefully crafted hinges, the perfect little boxes to hold things, the felt to hold the ink well. Open mouthed he turned and breathed rather than spoke his feelings.

“Pa, it-its beautiful, just beautiful,” his face told what he found hard to describe.

“Oh, then it meets with your expert approval?”

Adam felt his face go deep red. Calvin saved him by offering them both a warm toast of hot mulled cider, which had been simmering over on the old wood stove. The delicious cinnamon and spice, mingling with the smell of wax, lemon oil, and newly turned wood chips, created an almost for Adam mystical realm. Being included as a man swelled young Adam’s heart.

All the way home Adam extolled the talents of Calvin Wallace and how he would like to learn from him. Ben had to tell him to slow down, least he freeze his lungs and mouth, open. Adam shot his father a sideways glare clamping shut his mouth and urging his horse Sport into a faster gait. Ben shook his head and sighed. ‘Well, here we go again.’

Catching up with Adam, Ben, caught the reins slowing, then stopping Adam in his tracks.

“Just what was that all about?” The tone in Ben’s voice was as icy as the wind now whispering in the tops of the tall pine trees.

Adam hung his head, a great sigh escaping his own lips, lifting his head and looking away he shrugged, “Dunno . . . ”

“Adam, don’t mumble when you answer me.”

Closing his eyes Adam reset his hat and slumped down in his saddle. Ben waited, but not long.

“Well?”

“I’m sorry pa. ”

Ben released his grip, moving Buck forward without replying. ‘That boy will drive me to my wit’s end’.

With no further conversation between them, both slipped into their private world. At first Adam thought of the beautiful desk, the exquisite lock, the warmth of the wood under his fingertips. Mama Marie, will surely love that, but with this came the knowledge he was sorely lacking in the special gift department. With only a few weeks left, Adam went back to his plan and examined every part and angle. No matter how he tweaked it, he was not going to pull this off without some degree of damage to his hide, but in the end it would be more than well worth it, wrinkling his nose at the double meaning of the word ‘end’ in this instance.

It was not for a few days Adam had a chance to get back to the book, holding his breath every time Marie or Ben called him. ‘Whew,’ ‘so far so good.’ Now came the hard part. Adam had three people he needed to contact to get this going.

Careful of his thoughts possibly being mirrored on his face, Adam steeled himself and plowed into what he hoped was not a quagmire of questions and suspicions or being found sneaking around with things only half in place, what a disaster that would be. And the worst of it all would be his very special gift ruined.

He had already decided to enlist his little brothers but not until the very end. Neither could hold a secret any better than a sieve held water. Deciding what part they would play was easy enough and they would not need much in the way of prompting.

So, on a cold and clear morning he set off for school without waiting for Hoss, telling him he had an important errand to run for pa.

Hoss being a trusting soul nodded and rode out on his own, being careful not to let his mother see Adam had left him behind. Hoss always felt both proud and worried whenever Adam did this, for a youngster he had a very keen sense when it came to trouble, wether it is Adam or Joe leading him astray. It was awfully close to Christmas and he dearly wanted to help Adam who must be planning a surprise for either pa or mama, or maybe Little Joe, but instinct and self preservation rang in his ears like a warning bell.

It was colder than Adam expected, a raw wind tingled his face as he stood in the alley shadows between the buildings. Hopping from one foot to the other, blowing on his gloves, Adam prayed no one was about. “I wonder how early Miss Babbett arrives . . . should have checked first.”

Down the far end of the street, just emerging for his early morning rounds, Sheriff Coffee drew his bushy brow together, “Goll’dang,’ well I’ll be . . . what in the world?” He quickened his pace. The cold made sounds echo more than one might think, and Adam his senses on full alert, heard the fast approaching boots. Scooting behind the building, he silently crouched under a wooden crate, hands covering his nose and mouth to insure not giving himself away.

When Roy rounded the corner, he halted, puffing streams of white breath up to hang in the air.

“Adam Cartwright is that you?” Came the stern question.

Adam ducked is head and shut his eyes. Every nerve in his body screamed, show yourself, before it’s to late. But his stubborn streak and determination to see this through won out.

Roy crept down the alley sharp eyes watching for any sign, he peeked around behind both buildings, nothing but the cold air stirred. “Huh” He took off his hat and scratched at his hair, shrugging he turned and retraced his steps. “I was sure that was young Adam Cartwright, musta’ been the shadows, no way Ben would hold with this kind of thing.” Roy reached the end of the Alley, just as Miss Babette approached.

“Bon Jour.’.”She greeted then hurried inside.

Roy tipped his hat and still chewing on what he saw, headed in the other direction to complete his first stroll of the day.

Adam slunk along the wall, sticking his nose out to be sure the coast was clear. With a last guilty look over his shoulder he whipped inside the still darkened shop. A mistake he would correct, but not before he paid a heavy price for not thinking things through.

As Babette, the owner of the Ladies Fine Apparel shop came from the back room she was startled and frightened to see a figure standing in the dim light.

“Ahhhh” her scream pierced the still air. Adams’ scream matched hers, both sets of eyes wide and frightened.

Sheriff Coffee, like a dog on a trail, not satisfied he was wrong in his first suspicion, headed back, now upon hearing the scream, he ran to the shop gun drawn. By the time he entered both people inside were no longer frightened, but neither knew what to do. Sheriff Coffee made the decision. Grabbing Adam by the collar he shook him and pulled him to the side. “Adam Cartwright! I gotta mind to put you over my knee right here, the very idee’ you scaring poor Miss Babette like this, and I know,” he paused to look up at the middle aged, rather stout woman regaining her composure. He continued in a low voice, “I know for a fact, yer pa, ain’t gonna like hearin’ this, you got questions, you go ask him, you don’t go sneakin’ round ladies’ privates, personal,” he found himself, now blushing, standing there in the midst of all those frillys and under things.” “Uh, now you git!”

Adam, his face now flaming red, realizing what Roy was referring to, and the way, it looked. Back stepping to the door, he turned and fled down the street, legs pumping, breath coming in gasps. Reaching the far end of the street, he bent over hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Oh, God.” He groaned.

As the school spilled out, Adam hurried to his horse, Hoss hot on his heels, he had seen how pale and distracted Adam was all day. The teacher, also took note, planning to speak to the boy the next day.

“Ada-Adam,” Hoss asked, all his senses telling him Adam was in some kind of trouble, and he dearly wished to help.

“Yeah.” Adam drew tight his cinch.

“You in trouble er’ somtin’?”

Adam lowered his head and half turned. “You might say that, but nothin bad.” ( God, please help me). “Well, not that bad, so don’t worry, little brother, and thanks for covering for me. I will see that pa don’t get mad at you, com’on, we gotta get home, looks like it might snow.”

Hoss looked up and nodded. He was so worried, his normal attention to how the world around him worked, had gone unnoticed.

“Yeah, sure dose.” “Hope we beat it home, cause I think yer gonna need all the help ya ca’an git, here comes Sheriff Coffee, and he don’t look non too pleased.”

Hoss shivered, fidgeting with the reins of his pony, Sugar. The little white mare nuzzled him as he played with her forelock, while casting quick glances in the direction of the sheriff, stern faced as he shook his finger at his older brother. They had walked a few paces away and Hoss was just as glad. The less he knew, the less he would be responsible for, when pa questioned him.

When the sheriff left, Hoss hurried over to Adam, who stood shoulders hunched shaking his head. Silently Hoss offered Adam his reins and they road for home. The soft tic’ tic’ of the first snow flakes went unnoticed. The barn was in front of them, and Adam had no idea how he got home.

He had succeeded in putting the Sheriff off for now. He knew he had to go see Miss Babette at least once more. Entering the barn, they found Ben checking out Buck’s hoof, straightening up, he felt the tension as his boys led their mounts into the stalls.

“Afternoon boys, how was school today?” The question was innocent enough but he eyed them carefully, watching the facial expressions, or any other hint, in case a diversion was coming.

“Pretty good pa, we got to read some real good stories ta day. Huh Adam?”

“What? Oh yeah, Mrs. Grant read Hansel and Gretel, wasn’t what I would call a Christmas story.” He shrugged and continued his chore. Ben drew in a deep breath and resumed his check of Buck, tucking away every thing he had observed. Hoss hurried with Sugar and came to bend down by his father, worried blue eyes watching Ben as he ran his big strong hands down the horses hind leg. While Hoss had Ben occupied, Adam hurriedly left the barn. Ben stopped to look over his shoulder than at his younger son who ducked his head.

Things went all right for another few days. He even managed to return the book with no one any the wiser. Adam was pleased when his father sent him into town for the supplies by himself. He had a feeling Ben was either offering him silent help, or setting him up to get caught in his web. Entering the main street, he pulled the team to a halt. Eagerly he searched the crowded streets with his eyes. None of the people he needed were to be seen. A determined line formed on his brow. “Well, I have no choice, I’ll drop the list off with Mr. Cass and hopefully be back in time to help him load them, wouldn’t do good for pa to find out I was not there to help.”

Adam steered the wagon in front of the General store. Tying up the brake he hopped down, flapping his arms around himself to get warm after the drive. Removing his hat he entered the store pleased to feel the warmth radiating from the potbelly stove in the center kiss his ruddy cheeks.

“Hello, Adam, what brings you out on this cold day?”

Adam smiled at the man. Politely he returned the greeting. “Hello, Mr. Cass. Seems, Hop Sing has already run through all the baking supplies we picked up last week.” His eyes bright, his dimples sparkled with mischief.

“That wouldn’t have anything to do with your brother Hoss, now would it?”

“Mr. Cass, you did not hear anything like that from me.” He laughed merrily.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot, Santa Clause, is listening much closer, these last few weeks.” His own face wrinkling with a wide grin. Adam blushed, handing over his list. “Aww, Mr. Cass.”

Will Cass just chuckled at the boys face. “Well, I must say you were right, along with the other things here, it will take at least an hour to get it all ready.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I have a few other errands, but I will be back on time to help load it all, sir.”

Will nodded knowingly, this time of year most young folks had special things they held secret.

“Sure son, go on.” He waved the boy out of the store.

Once on the sidewalk Adam had to pull the folded papers out and decide which way to go first. It was cold so he opted for the church, it was a good walk from the store but the church its self was sheltered by a hill and grove of trees. Adam hurried up the steps to the parsonage, next to the church. Removing his hat he smoothed his thick wavy black hair. “Looks like I’m needing a haircut, before Christmas.” No sooner had he spoke then the Reverend opened the door.

“Well, hello young man, come in, come in.” He looked past Adam for a moment. “Are you alone?”

“Yes sir.”

“Oh.” The man frowned slightly. “Is there something wrong, Adam?”

It was not the average thing for a young man Adam’s age to come calling on the

Preacher, unless he was delivering a message, or invitation from his parents. Neither case seemed likely.

“Wrong sir? N-no.” Adam cleared his throat, and fished in his jacket for his papers. “I - I just thought you might be able to help me, with, uh, sort of Christmas present.”

“I see, and just how do you think I might do that?” The kind man ushered the boy into his warm living room, to sit next to the merry crackling fire. After opening his jacket Adam took a seat waiting for the man to sit in the chair opposite him. Pulling on his ear nervously, he was not sure how to begin. Matthew Thomas smiled encouragingly at the obviously reluctant boy. The mantel clock ticked the minutes by. Biting his lip Adam opened his papers and offered them to the man.

“H-here, sir, I -I need to know what these words mean, and if they are prayers, and if they are. . .

Reverend Thomas studied the hand written words, then glanced up, to see Adam chewing on his finger nail, slightly squirming in his chair.

Sitting back up he let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he worked out how to precede.

“Do you mind telling me how you came by these?”

Adam at first blushed and ducked his head, then shrugged. “Um, th-they were in a small black book my, um, m-mama, reads.” He stammered.

Reverend Thomas pursed his lips, “Yes, I thought so. You see Adam these are Latin, and yes some are prayers, and some are hymns, some of this is also French, different then we sing but very beautiful.”

Adam shook his head up and down. His face showing his reaffirmation to what he had already surmised.

“Is there something else you need?” He watched the boys face closely.

Adam stood then sat back down. His eyes met the man, questions and need of assurance flittered all over his face. Rubbing his now sweaty hands on his thighs, once again on his feet, his hat dropped by the chair, Adam paced back and forth, turning suddenly to stand right in front of the man. With a great breath sucked in all the way to his toes he gushed out. “We-ell you see sir, I - I wa-was wonderin -if- um -if it might be- be- a- a. . . Sin, er,’ something, if- if someone was to- to um, sort of sing, some of them in-in our church?” He finished heart pounding, eyes shut tight, in case the reverend intended to box his ear. To his relief all he felt was a gentle hand on his shoulder, a warm smile when he opened his eyes to an expression of understanding.

“And this has to do with Mrs. Campbell’s Christmas program, I am guessing? ”

Adam nodded quickly. “Y-ess sir.”

“Okay, Adam, I will not pry into the reasons, may I ask that you let me help you? I am very good friends with Father Walker, who just happens to be stopping over in Genoa, in fact I was planning a holiday visit to him this week. Perhaps you will let me take this to show him and ask his help in your project? With your permission of course.”

Wide eyed, Adam swallowed a great gulp. “Y-you will sir, I — mean - What will it cost?” As the words slipped out Adam realized how silly he sounded, compounding his already embarrassed self.

“No, no charge, only cost is that you do your best, and promise to help with the program. I understand you are a very responsible and talented young man.”

Adam hung his head, all this praise was getting the better of him, considering how he planned to be sneaking around in the days to come, making his brothers partners in his deceit.

Adam pulled at his ear. Not looking up he let his eyes go everywhere but in the direction of the man’s face. Eventually he nodded and replied softly. “Thank you, sir, may I call on you again, to- see how I need to go.”

Reverend Thomas patted his shoulder, “That would be fine, and perhaps you will bring your youngest brother . . . I would be very interested in hearing the end of his song . . . ” Brows raised high on his forehead the man let lose with a hearty laugh at the expression on Adam’s face. “N-nooo, sir, you would not want me to bring him, here . . . and as for his song, I really don’t think he will EVER sing that again, at least not until he is 100, and my pa, is on the other side of the country.” Adam rolled his eyes and laughed himself. Shaking Matthew’s hand Adam placed his hat firmly and confidently, on his head buttoning his jacket he moved toward the door. “I have to go see Mrs. Campbell, and” he paused. “Uh, Miss Babette.” A weak smile tried to form then failed. “I also have to be back at Cass’ store to help load the supplies pa sent me for. Good morning sir.”

Reverend Matthew Thomas watched as the young man hurried down the street, his feet crunching on the snow. Slowly he closed the door, standing behind it he looked heavenward. “Well, Lord, this is the season of love and coming together to celebrate the birth of your son, sure hope everyone see’s it that way. . . .” Shaking his head he returned to his parlor and searching his bookshelf until he found what he wanted he settled in to better acquaint himself with what Adam had proposed.

Adam just happened to be passing the bakery, as Miss Babette, emerged, eyes making contact. He swept his hat off as a gust of cold air, swirled his dark hair down into his eyes. “Uh,” He pushed it off. “Miss Babette, c-could I carry those things for you? I need to explain the other day, Ma’am.” There was such remorse in his voice. She smiled. “But of course, Adam, come.” She led the way as he replaced his hat and followed carrying her packages. Instead o going to the shop she led him to her small home on a side street, Adam was embarrassed enough without

having to go back in there. It did not take long for him to apologize and tell her his intentions that day.

“Oui’ I will help, gladly.” She reached out and touched his face, he instantly went red. “Your Mamier, will be so pleased, it has taken her a long time, No? For you see how she loves you.” Suddenly aware of how she just hurt the boy, she hurried on. “But do not despair of this, she always knew you would understand, all it took was patients. And, by now you know, that is something my dearest friend Marie, has a short supply of most of the time. No?”

Adam had to smile. Miss Babette the local dress maker was also French, and she made a real effort to befriend Marie, when Ben first brought her here. Babette made dresses of the finest material, and quality. Ben spared no expense where he could, to insure Marie happiness, so it was more friendship and deep understanding that she and Marie shared than the items she purchased, or the clothes Babette made for her, and occasionally for his baby brother, much to the child’s dismay. Managing another block in his building, Adam bid her good day and resumed his travels. Stopping in at the Sheriff’s office as promised, to report he had indeed apologized to Miss Babette. Glancing at the clock on the office wall, Adam rushed through his speech, to be back at the store at the proper time. He made it by a hairs breathe.

“Well, thought for a minute, you might have gotten lost.”

“No. Sir, sorry if I’m late.” Adam slung a big flour sack over his shoulder and moved toward the waiting wagon. He was mildly shocked to realize he had worked up a nice sweat when the entire order had been secured in the back of the wagon. Following Mr. Cass into the store he found Sally, Mr. Cass’ daughter behind the counter. Both blushed, her cheeks demure pink, his ears bright red. “Uh, Hello, Miss Sally.” He stammered quickly pulling his hat off his head.

Eyes downcast she replied, “Hello, yourself Adam.”

The silence that followed felt smothering, finally Will rescued them. “How about Sally you get a few choice pieces of candy for Adam to take back to those little brothers of his. Sort of a pre Christmas gift from us, what do you say Adam?”

“Yes sir, that would please them so much. My pa will thank you when he comes in. But, please, don’t make it too big, I mean, Joe is active enough right now without helping him along,” he grinned. “And besides, you are here in town, I have to live under the same roof with him, except when I manage to sneak into the loft for quiet time to read.” Sally’s bright girlish giggle, brought yet another blush to the young man’s face. As much as he hated the embarrassing thought, he knew he would need to ask his father if this was just normal part of growing up?

Sally broke his thoughts. “Here you go, Adam, peppermint sticks, molasses chews, some rock candy and two barley sugar suckers, oh, and,” her turn to blush, “Um, a few lemon drops.”

Their hands touched as he accepted the treats, they both quickly looked away.

Will cleared his throat, “Ahem, so Adam, are you and your brothers going to be doing something for the Sunday School program?”

“Uh, yes sir, at least I hope to get my brothers ready with something.”

“Not you?”

Adam shrugged, “ I’ll be helping them,” was all he was willing to admit.

“Oh, I see, I thought you.”

But Adam was at the door hand on the latch. “Thank yo sir. By Sally see ya.” And he was gone.

Driving home he began to worry, the more people who knew of his intentions the more the chance to slip up, and spoil all the hard work he planned. “Just gonna have to be extra careful is all.” Having set his mind at ease Adam took in the beauty of the land he loved so. Over the last few days more snow had fallen and the ground was now covered in a good four to five inches, not enough to hamper travel, yet deep to the point it created a wonderland. Sitting up straight Adam let his lungs fill and a song floated out onto the still air, accompanied by the jingle of the harnesses and creak of the wagon.

Over the next week, Adam managed, by the skin of his teeth to keep on schedule with his plan.

It was only by Saturday things fell apart. A few nightly trips out his window, missed chores, trouble concentrating, were just a few of the complications that plagued him. After another argument with Hoss for not paying attention to the song he was working on with both his brothers, grabbing his jacket and wool cap Adam had stormed out of the house, slamming the door. His angry tirade bouncing off the walls of the barn, startled the milk cow. Flossy gave an equally angry response and barged past him, as he had neglected to shut the barn door. She lumbered off into the late evening, leaving a stunned Adam looking after her tracks as they disappeared covered by the falling snow.

“Great, just great!” He stamped his foot, pulling his woolen cap off he slammed it into the snow. Within seconds his black hair was now snow white, and the flakes were coming fast and hard. With a growl that would have done a wolf proud, he bent, snatching his cap yanking it down on his snow-covered head. Fists balled up at his side, marched after the deserter.

Hop Sing heard the yelling and went to the kitchen door just in time to see the flying tail of his beloved milk cow as she headed for parts’ unknown. A loud excited stream of Cantonese went with his jumping up and down, shaking his own fist at the figure standing there staring after the beast.

“You bad boy!!! You scare Hop Sing’s cow, now, no give milk! Little boy need much milk, Missy Marie need milk for tea, what you do!!! No milk, no cheese, no butter, you velly bad boy! Hop Sing no can make Clissmas cakes. . . I tell Fatha,’ you no pay attention, what you do!!”

Slamming the kitchen door he continued to rant as he chopped potatoes for dinner. A long half mile walk, complicated by falling on his seat three times in the wet snow, completely sodden, a bedraggled Adam made it back to the yard dragging the reluctant cow.

When he finally came through the front door, one look and Marie insisted he take a hot bath before he took sick. Miserable and ornery, he made yet another error, he let his temper flare. Rudely and non too quietly, he told her she had no need or right, telling him when to bathe. Emerald eyes blazed, as she advanced on him, he was too preoccupied with muttering, pulling off his wet coat to notice. Joe and Hoss sitting on the settee, turned to watch the goings on, Hoss’ eyes went wide, he opened his mouth.

‘Crack!’ The sound reverberated through the great room, as the huge wooden spoon she was holding met the seat of Adam’s pants as he bent over to pull off his wet boots. Hoss and Joe stared silently at each other. Adam had jumped two feet and came imeaditly up ramrod straight. The fire in his bottom enhanced by the fact he was ice cold and very wet.

“You WILL take your bath now? Or do I need?”

Adam slid sideways past her, out of his eye he caught Hoss and Joe staring open mouthed, he refused to give in and rub at the intense stinging. When he had distanced himself enough, he spoke. “Yes, ma’am, I think a bath, would be a good idea,” his voice barley able to conceal the tremor.

As Adam made to slip gingerly into his seat at the table, squeaky clean, black hair shining like ebony, curling in a few places, he had attempted to quell, but given up on, he was stopped cold.

“You can just get right back up. Your dinner is on a tray in your room . . . Good Night.”

Adam took quick peek at Hoss and Joe, Hoss had his head down, Joe looked from Mama to Adam and scrunched up his nose. “Ut-oh.”

Adam slowly stood. Without another word, he turned and crossed the great room and went up to his bedroom. Once inside he looked for something to hit, finding nothing he pounded his fist into his palm, over and over. His eyes sparkled and burned, “Damn” he whispered, fearful to speak out loud, and drawing in a shuddering breath, fought to hold back those ever threatening tears.

Ben Cartwright woke early on Sunday morning. He groaned. He had gotten in very late last night from Carson City. He did not plan to go to church this morning. Those plans were to change. Getting up quietly, he dressed, washed and shaved, then while putting on his vest and folding down his shirt collar, he arrived at the top of the stairs. He had taken the first step, then almost tripped. There sitting on the settee, was his little son, Joseph, blanket in his hand thumb in his mouth, his ragged toy rabbit under one arm. Slowly Ben came down the rest of the way, wondering for all he was worth what brought this on. Joe looked up, eyes watery, little lip all a quiver. “Papa, (sniff) i-if a boy iss naughty, will Santa be cross wif all the boys, what liv in a house?”

Ben came and sat, gently lifting the worried little boy into his warm lap. Softly he asked while lifting the little chin, feeling the quivers. “Did you do something? That you think might make Santa cross Little Joe?” he pushed away the curls. He was careful not to sound angry, for the boy was so upset. “N-noo-p-papa, I be-ed-ed vwery good, I pwomis.”

“Well, then, you have nothing to worry about.” Joe nodded dubiously, not at all convinced. “B-but- Papa, it- it wuz Ad-um. . . not Joe.”

“Adam? . . . What did Adam do?” Ben played this very carefully. He did not want Joe to think tattling was something he approved of. However, whatever it had been, was serious enough to upset Joe and have him up at the break of day, worriedly twisting his blanket in his little fingers.

Ben shifted and made the child more secure in his arms, glad Hop Sing had already stoked the fire. “Perhaps, you best tell Papa, what this is all about. . .okay.”

“Sniff, kay, papa” “W-ell, Ad-um n’ Hoss n’ me was prack-sin for the Chrsmiss show, Hoss keeped fergetin what he aposta’ say. Ad-um gots mad, then he runnded out an banged th’ door. En’ then he yellded, then Hop Sing yellded, bout’ Flossy, what runneded away cus Ad-um yellded, at her, then Ad-um getted her, an hims getted wet cus a’ th’snow, he comeded in an mama sayed he gots to get a baffth, then Ad-um getted mad gain’ an hollared at mama, then she getted mad an’ smacked Ad-um, wer-ite on his bottom! wiff her big spoon, then Ad-um getted his baffth, then mama sayed he can’t have no supper wiff us, an’ he had to go to his room.”. . .

“Papa will Santa be mad?” At the look that came over his fathers face, Joe swallowed, now sorry he told, tattling was not nice. . . Adam was gonna be mad. Ben removed the boy and with a little pat on the bottom he sent him off to the kitchen. “Little Joe, you go into the kitchen now, and ask Hop Sing to fix you some nice warm cocoa, all right?” “Papa has to go speak with Adam.”

Joe sucked in his bottom lip and hugging his rabbit he did as he was told, now very sorry, Adam was in big trouble, he worried yet again, that his tattling might be seen as naughty.

Adam had not slept well at all. Just now he was splashing cold water on his face, as he looked up into his mirror to examine his looks, the door behind him swung open. The footsteps he had tried to block out, carried his father into and right up behind him. A very precarious spot at the moment. Standing there hands on his hips, deep brows furrowed, dark brown eyes like fire arrows. “One question.” Came the clipped demand.

Adam turned to face him, his voice, over worked, his throat strained, the huge lump in it making breath a chore much less swallowing.

“Yes sir.” He tried to keep eye contact, and steady his voice. He just had to hold on, for a few days more. Next Friday was the Christmas program.

“Did you and your Mother?” His voice hard and stern, emphasizing the word Mother. Ben was not going to play this game. “Did you and your Mother, have words last night? . . . Just yes or no. I am not interested in any long winding round about tales.”

Adam nodded. “Yes sir, we, had, um, words.”

“I see.” Ben half turned away to get a hold on his thoughts, it was way too early in the day for this, he was tired and had not even had his first cup of coffee. Swinging back on his son he shook his finger at him, “You, are very lucky young man, that it is so close to Christmas, and your mother is still sleeping, or else, you and I would be having a VERY serious discussion right about now. . . but . . . And you mind me boy! . . . This is your last warning. . . .One more slip up and I don’t care how old you think you are, I will, give you a spanking, you will not forget, well into the next year. . . do I make myself clear Adam? Or must I give you a sample?”

The hot tears that gushed up into his eyes, the tremor that vibrated his entire body, his face drained of all color after flushing bright red. All these signs punched holes in Ben’s initial anger. There was obviously much more going on behind the scenes with his son. Anger now gone, Ben pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. Opening them just in time to catch Adam quickly swipe at his face.

With a much quieter, and warm, tone he asked “Adam, son, is there something you might need to talk about? . . . this isn’t like you, son, to be disrespectful and yell at Marie. Or any of the other things I have noticed, that just don’t go with the Adam I know.” He reached and pulled the trembling boys slender shoulders close, rubbing between the shoulders gently, comfortingly. “As I was saying, the Adam, I know and love! Even when he is about the most stubborn child on this earth.” To Ben’s relief, a soft giggle, muffled in his own chest replied.

“No sir, that honor belongs to that other most stubborn, exasperating, son of yours.”

“Who? Hoss?”

Adam drew back his head and looked up into his pa’s twinkling eyes, letting his lip curl just a little, he forgot where he was standing, smugly and rather flippantly replied. “Boy, pa, you sure are getting old . . .I” “Ow www.”

He stepped back both hands covering his once again stinging bottom. Ben merely rose one brow looking at his hand. He turned, when he reached the door, he looked back over his shoulder. “You were saying young man?”

Adam found himself grimacing, then with a great sigh, he gave in. “Nothing, sir, I was just about to say good morning pa. I will be down in a minute.”

“Fine, son.” “Oh, and be sure to bring your dinner tray when you do.” As Ben closed the door behind him he came face to face with Hoss, his big blue eyes all crinkly and worried.

“Good morning, son.” Ben placed his arm around Hoss’ broad shoulders and guided him down the stairs. Not giving him the chance to ask about what he had heard, he asked “Are you as hungry as I am, mum-um, that Hop Sing makes the best breakfast, huh?”

“Y-es-sir, “ Hoss agreed still confused but knowing he was being sidetracked.

Joe and Marie stayed home, the weather had turned sharply. Ben did not want to have them take the long trip, he and the boys would go in by horseback, so Hoss and Adam could take part in the second to last practice. Ben was still wondering what the boys had decided on, as he was not around much these last weeks, with the cattle, wild horses and growing timber business. He was sorry he had to depend on Adam for the home chores, he knew the boy missed being part of the mans’ work of the ranch. But in spring he would be needed far more, this he explained to Adam, and somewhat satisfied the lad pointing out the added advantage of more reading time. Today after church while Joe napped, and Marie and Hoss helped get the house ready, Ben would find reason to take Adam with him and they would make the last trip to see Calvin Wallace.

It seemed far colder than the last time they made this trip, and with that, a lot longer also having to go by wagon. Ben had explained they were going to check on the cattle in a field that might not have enough good grass. So they had loaded up a mound of hay and tied it down under a tarp. Adam could not help but smirk, regarding pa’s decision. It was almost too delicious, to let pass, but in light of his earlier attempt at humor and the results, Adam went with the saying discretion, is the better part of valor, not to mention self preservation. Still the chance to tease his father about not being totally truthful to Marie, was mighty hard to resist. Christmas was the one time of year when, little sidesteps to the truth, regarding love, and gifts, hopefully God let slide.

Adam almost three times, gave in and told his father about his idea, but he wanted it to be a gift in a way for Ben as much as Marie. He wanted to tell his father how he really did come to love this beautiful woman, and how grateful he was to have her as a mother, but even more so a trusted friend.

Calvin’s place never looked so good. Both Adam and Ben, felt frozen to the bone. Adam was particularly glad to be standing and not on that rock hard cold wagon bench. After the greeting, and a taste of Calvin’s wonderful mulled cider, Ben and Calvin went over the desk. The artisan showed Ben the special extra touches, he had incorporated in the piece. One being a secret little compartment. Ben smiled his dark chocolate eyes lit with the glow of a child, picturing the expression on his wife’s face when he uncovered this treasure. Adam, as usual, wandered around inspecting various items, leaning his elbows on the desk, to pour over the intricate designs and prints scattered there.

All of a sudden he was aware of the silence, straightening up he turned around to see the amused faces watching him.

“Laddy, have ya found anything amiss, over there? Ye be very deep in thought, and” Calvin gave a tip of his head to indicate the drafting paper containing some drawings he had been sketching for another of his clients, tightly grasped in Adam’s hands. Adam blinked then let his own eyes fall to his hands.

“What? Oh, I-”. . . For about the millionth time, in the last month, Adam found himself blushing and fighting the urge to run away and find a place to cry.

Swallowing he slowly turned to gently, and reverently, replaced the print with the others. Calvin took the chance to wink at Ben and both went back to the desk in preparation to move it into the wagon. Also, giving Adam the time to himself. The bitter cold that whipped in as they opened the doors stung his cheeks, bringing him around. Adam shot past and scrambled up into the hay strewn wagon bed, retrieving the blanket Ben had under the seat. When Ben and Calvin gently placed the desk in the hay, Adam carefully as if he were wrapping his baby brother, draped the desk in the thick woolen blanket. With him guiding, it was soon snuggled into the hay, covered by more hay and the tarp fastened tightly over all.

After one more taste of the wonderful cider, and struggling back into heavy jackets, mufflers and thick leather gloves, tugging down their hats, they bid Calvin Merry Christmas. Ben thanked him yet again, to which Calvin snorted. “Ben, one more thank ye, and I might take that thing back.”

It was Ben’s turn to blush, which did not get past his eldest son. “Ye both have a blessed Christmas, and tell the Missus ta’ drop me a note, come spring ta’ let me know ifn’ it pleased er,’ ya here.”

Ben grinned.

“Oh, and Bucko’ ye be a good boy!” “Else ole’ St. Nick, might not git ye narry a toy, but a lump of coal an a.”

“I know, a strong switch!” Adam finished automatically.

“Good Advice. . .and never hurts to remind yer self.”

Before any more could be said the cold wind drove Calvin back into his warm shop. Ben and Adam set forth in a good clip back toward the Ponderosa. When they were back inside the barn Adam rubbed his hands together, out of nowhere a great sneeze rocked him on his feet.

Ben looked up startled, just in time to see Adam shake his head, eyes all watery, he searched for a handkerchief under his coat in his pants pocket. Ben caught his face in his large hands even though they were cold they felt good to his son. “Boy, are you coming down with a cold?” Ben began to put clues together, this, must be why Adam had been so irritable, and out of sorts. How wrong he was, almost spelled disaster for Adam. “You go on in the house, get undressed and into bed, I’ll finish here and have Hop Sing fix you one of his special teas, it is far too close to Christmas and I don’t want you sick, son.”

Adam backed away from him shaking his head wildly. “N-n-n-nooo pa, I ain’t, I ain’t - ge-gettin sick, I- “ his chest heaved and Adam found himself wheezing. Ben caught his arm and propelled him toward the house. “Inside Now!. . . No arguments. . .”

Adam had no choice but to stumble forward. Ben waited making sure he went all the way, then finished his job in record time. Only thing he did not have time for was, getting the desk out and into the tack room for safe keeping, he would have Hoss help him. On second thought, Ben decided to get Charlie, or Hank, anyone but Hoss, he loved the boy with all his heart, it was just Hoss was so tender hearted. He had a hard time keeping secrets, when it came to giving gifts.

Entering the house he found Adam reluctantly heading up stairs, Hoss following, firing questions at him about his being in trouble, “Was he bad, was pa mad, why was he sent to his room, did pa spank him, was this gonna stop Santa from coming?”

“Hoss, for heaven sakes, stop hounding your brother, and even if he was in trouble, which he is not, not yet anyway. Adam go on. You young man, have no business asking that of your older brother, would you like it if the roles were reversed?”

Hoss stood on the landing, looking up as Adam turned the corner and could be heard shutting his door, then back at his father. Not sure what the last part of his stern words meant. However, the tone did get his attention. “N-no, pa, I wuz jes . . .Adam, looked kinda pale like’ an I . . .”

Ben raised his one brow to let Hoss know he was not fooled.

Marie rounded the corner and Joe appeared at the top of the stairs, sleepily rubbing his eyes, Marie glared at her husband. “Well, Benjamin. . . he is all yours. Hoss and I have work to do in the spare room. “Did you have a good nap, precious? . . . Papa is going to play with you for a while until mama finishes her chores.” She sweetly announced beckoning Hoss to follow. He hurried down the stairs, and she closed the door behind them, as the Cartwright whirlwind

hurled himself down and into his father’s arms. Ben still standing open mouthed a glare of his own deepening the brown to almost black in his eyes.

“Hiya Papa,” Joe gave him a huge hug, then kissed his cheek. Little warm body snuggling up close, “Papa yous’ vwery cold, was ya outside, can we go outside, I wanna see the horses, I beended inside all to vwery mush today.” He had Ben’s face in his hands. His big, sparkling eyes studying the man, most sincere and hopeful.

Ben just groaned, this was her way of punishing him for waking Joe early. “No, little Joe, we have to go see Adam. Papa is worried he might be getting a cold, and that would be sad, if Adam was sick for Christmas, don’t you think?”

“Oh, oh, uhuh.”

They detoured into the kitchen where Hop Sing had already gathered his collection of remedies cures, and poultices.

“Hop Sing tell number one son, not good, be out without hat, get all heated up, not good stay out late, get up early, no eat right, all a time make strange words, bad for throat. . . him just boy, to much foolishment, Holy day, be special for family, need be together, no need one boy sick.” He continued to rant as he led the way up the stairs. Ben followed, Joe in his arms, both looking at one another, over the confusing words spilling out of the little cook.

Adam had done as he was told, non too happy however, he had his arms folded determinedly, over his chest. He was not going to put up with any nonsense, there was too much riding on him right now. His mouth set in a thin line his brow all dark and drawn together, a fierce scowl on his face greeted the expected entrants, the only one he did not expect was Joe perched on Bens arm, wide eyed and a little nervous.

When Adam let his eyes, travel over to what Hop Sing had placed on his desk, his face darkened ever more. He pulled the counterpane up to his neck, then holding it down with all his strength, he emphatically, refused to have anything to do with any of it. Joe sat at the end of the bed, looking from onto the other. The three squared off against each other. The air in the room seemed to be charged, the stalemate went on for one more minute. Ben, between clenched teeth leaned down so he was right next to Adam’s ear, in a deadly voice he hissed. “Adam, you have two choices, one, you drink Hop Sings, tea, and let him wrap your throat, and rub his mix on your chest, willingly. Or two, I pull you out of this bed, over my knee if front of little Joe and when I feel I have made a sufficient impression, as I mentioned this morning, you, Will do as you’re are told. . . of that I am sure!. . . Your choice.”

Only Adam could hear him, but the look on his face fascinated his baby brother, he had never seen Adam‘s face, that many shades, or his eyes go that big and get that color.

Adam, suffered, through two days of Hop Sings torture. When it became clear Adam was right, Hop Sing had threatened to go back to China.

School was filled with activity, the children spent the majority of the time, making and decorating the hand made invitations to be sent home. Also, the hand made programs listing all the children and their selected offerings. Energy was high, and everyone was working happily. Adam had volunteered to be the runner and coordinator, giving him the freedom to go about his own plans unhampered by questions and suspicions. He was able to meet with Miss Babette, and she went over certain words with him and explained in a little more detail, the songs that might have been song in the church in New Orleans for Christmas. He was also very grateful to Reverend Thomas, for ferrying the information between he and Father Walker. Reverend Thomas passing on the good Priest’s commendation for such a thoughtful gift, stating he was only sorry he would be in Sacramento at the Mission the night of the program.

Mrs. Campbell was very helpful, she was just a little unsure as to how this would go but the boy’s face and his sincerity, in addition to Reverend Thomas taking her aside and explained the background, she found herself getting choked up every time she thought of it.

Adam enlisted Pete, and his best friend *Ross, promising them it would not jeopardize either’s chance for a good Christmas.

When Christmas Eve at last arrived, Adam was a bundle of nerves. Now not quite sure he could pull this off. The jitters made his queasy. At one point Ben found him in the barn, pale and looking very like he was going to be sick. “Boy, are you alright?” He pulled Adam up so he had to look at his father. “Adam, for the last three weeks at least, you and I have been going round and round. . . It stops right here and now. . . I want an explanation. . .And, I want it without any trimmings.” His grip on Adams chin tightened, Adam winced.

Pools of deep chocolate, so deep, one felt as if you might be lost forever if you fell into them, met with pools of glittering, golden brown, deep, rich, flecked with touches of amber, ringed with such ebony black, almost shamefully lush lashes. Puffs of breath obscured the view for a few moments.

“Pa, please, don’t, don’t ask me, I can’t tell you, you have to trust me.” Whenever any of his boys asked for his trust in this way, Ben was defenseless, and it was doubly so when the request came in this soft spoken, plea, from his eldest son, Adam. For another long uncomfortable time for Adam, Ben remained silent. Releasing his hold, he stepped back. “Alright, son, I trust you, you have never given me any reason to doubt your request in the past, and I won’t now. Just promise me, if you are getting sick, or there is anything, seriously wrong, you will come to me, and let me help. That’s what I am here for, its part and parcel, of being a father, it’s in my job description. Some day, not too soon though, I hope, you will understand.” He gently tousled Adam’s hair. With one last loving and warm look he left Adam to himself, hurrying across the yard to assist Marie inside in her battle to get Joe and he self dressed, on time. Leaving room for any unexpected problems that might pop up on the long drive to town.

Hoss had struggled with his shirt and tie. Standing before the huge hearth, the poor boy was close to tears. Now, very sure, he did not want to preform before all those people. It was Wade Porter, who played on him. Wade had a nasty nature, and he was devious enough to be very sneaky in his attacks on the other children. As the holiday program grew closer, he had seen Hoss Cartwright, grow more uncomfortable, he wasted not time getting to the younger, but much bigger boy.

“Pa, I-I think, maybe I jist better not go.” Hoss spoke with a tremble, blue eyes cloudy and worried.

“Why son?” Ben did not want his son trying to back out now of what for weeks was all they worked on thought about and practiced for. He pulled the boy down on the settee beside him and wrapped his strong arm around the hunched shoulders. Hoss played with his fingers, sighing.

“Aww pa, I an’t no good at them kinds a things, golly, Adam, dun’ hollered at me, more in these last weeks, then he ever dun,’ in mah’ en-ti-re. . . life!”

Hoss shook his head woefully. Ben hugged him closer, “Ahhh, come now, Hoss.” “It can’t be that bad you know your brother Adam, gets very intense over things like this.” “But, I’m sure he is as proud of you, as I am, and he has all the confidence in the world you will do just fine.” “Besides, Joe will be there helping, right?”

Hoss turned and gave his father a look of such incredulous shock. “Pa, are you serious? Are you and me talkin’ bout’ th’ same Little Joe?. . . pa, where ya’ been? That un’ gonna be bout’ as much help as a snowball in the middle of Death Valley in the summer, fer’ heven sakes.!” The passion and description, never mind the facial expressions Hoss just related, took Ben by complete surprise, just about knocked his socks off.

“Son, Hoss, I- I don’t know what to say. . .” Ben opened then shut his mouth. Shrugging his own shoulders he stood up. “Well, Eric, this is something you just have to do, so make up your mind and lets have no more talk about backing out at the last minute. You are a Cartwright, and your brothers are depending on you.”

“Yessir,” Hoss hung his head, pa had called him Eric, and to make it worse he conjured up in his mind, all kinds of awful scenes, in response to his up coming performance.

Little Joe on the other hand, was just bouncing off the walls with excitement. Babbling wildy he spoke his part, and whenever he felt he did not have everyone’s total attention he increased the volume. The threat of being left home finally restored the normal chaotic preparations. Adam came in to see Hoss sitting morosely on the settee vainly trying to repeat his part, and wiping away the tears that came with each word he forgot or stumbled over.

Adam slid down next to him, “Sa’ matter Hoss?”

“Adam I cain’t do it, n’ pa says I gotta, cause I’m a Cartwright, but I-I d-o-n’ feel like one, he- he,(Gulp) eveen called me Eric . . . pleazze, Adam, I d-o-n’ wanna do this.”

Adam drew him into a hug, a rare thing lately with Adam. “Hoss, come on. That’s no kinda’ way to talk, of course you’re a Cartwright, just as much as me, and Joe, and I know why you are scared.”

Hoss pulled away an angry pout on his lips his eyes blazed. “I ain’t a- sacred!” He shot up and made a fist. “Don’t you never, say that!”

Adam grinned. “That’s the spirit, brother, and don’t even think about sneaky old Wade, I ‘ll handle him.”

Hoss lowered his head and smiled, he should have known, of course Adam would know what had been going on, hadn’t Adam been watching out for him all his life.

As Adam began to help Hoss with his tie, the brotherly moment was shattered by a loud wail. Joe came hightailing it down the stairs. His beloved tattered one-eyed rabbit clutched in his arms. He forced himself into Adam’s lap.

“Hold on there, little buddy, whatever is the matter?”

Joe swallowed “Mama sayded, I can’t take squire, it ain’t fair.”

“Isn’t fair.”

“Uuhuh, hims, never seed a chrssmes show, Ad-um.” Joe protested. Ben showed up at the top of the stairs fumbling with his string tie. “Joseph. You come back up here right now!” he barked.

“Ut oh,” (Gulp)

Adam leaned in and whispered for a long few minutes into the little ear, Joe sat perfectly still, his face all wonder and awe. Slowly, he looked down at his very best friend, and then back into Adam’s warm eyes. “Okay Ad-um.” He solemnly agreed, heading back up stairs. Ben towered over him when he reached the top. Joe put his hand behind him and keeping a keen eye on any movement his father might make, returned to his room. Carefully placing his best friend on the window sill so he could keep watch over the yard, Joe picked up his little jacket. With one last look back he sighed, carrying it to his mother. Marie gave him a hard look, as she slid his hands into the sleeves.

“Ims, n-not takin squire mama, he’ aposta’ guard, case some bad mans twrys to steal th’ cookies Hop Sing, and me, bakede fer Santa.”

“Oh?” She questioned, taken back by his sudden turn about. A wink and tip of Ben’s head told her something or someone, downstairs had changed his mind. At first she assumed it to be Hoss, then realized, it could only be Adam, who could get such a response so quickly. A small smile crept up her face.

She straightened his jacket and lovingly attempted to control those abundant curls, they almost covered his ears, and came near to ringlets over his forehead, a veritable crown of gold and brown. “Very well, my precious one, now go wait with your brothers while mama and papa finish up.” She hugged him gently and he scampered out.

When Ben and Marie reached the bottom step all three boys sat on the settee, what a picture they made. Marie almost wept, Ben’s chest swelled with pride. Hop Sing brought in the hamper containing his wonderful gingerbread men and brandied peaches. The Cartwright contribution to the celebration.

It was a cold clear day, but not frigid, Ben had decided to take the big sleigh, as there was enough snow. The air rang as they all merrily joined in singing Jingle Bells, until the four older members ears screamed for relief from the shrill yet with gusto little voice. Once again it was Adam to the rescue, he leaned up and explained that if he kept up the singing he would not have any of his beautiful, (inside he cringed, hope Santa isn’t listening right about now. ) special voice, left for the program. It worked like a charm, the rest of the ride was enjoyed in silence as they marveled at the beauty around them. Along the way they met with other families also heading for the little church, and a happy festive atmosphere accompanied the jingling sleigh bells, clopping hooves, and swish of the runners, as they all glided along the road. Laughter and merry wished could be heard all around as more and more families reached the church yard and bid each other good tidings. Filing into the Church beautifully decorated with love and care by the children, the scents of Pine boughs, baked goods, hot mulled cider, and wood smoke, greeted each and everyone.

Ben and his family were soon greeting new and old friends. The older boys went off to chat with school mates, and eventually back to their parents. Adam caught Mrs. Campbell signaling him he asked his father to excuse him and he hurried over to her. They went over a few things she was still worried about but Adam assured her all the kids were ready, and now would be a good time to get started, a few little ones were becoming restless, his own baby brother in particular.

“Ahem, may I have your attention all, first Merry Christmas, and welcome one and all, parents and friends, relatives and fellow worshipers. Please be seated. There are extra chairs along the wall, complements of the International House Restaurant. Refreshments will be served at the end of the program provided by Miss Daisy, and Mrs. Willow’s Cafe’s and the generous donations from all the families participating here tonight. One more thing, thanks to Reverend and Mrs. Thomas for donating time and effort to help with some of the set designs and program completion.”

She was just about to add another thought when out of the corner of her eyes she saw the dark haired young man give her a slight negative shake of his head.

“Well, then with no further ado, we shall begin. . . Please open your program to page two, where you will find out first presenter, Miss Mary Wilson.”

Over the next few hours, tears of joy, gales of laughter, merry giggles and grins of pride, a few tears of nerves, a stumble over a word, a slightly off key, wobbly song. A carefully practiced poem, a loving letter, an essay on Christmas and what it meant. There were a wide variety to be applauded and congratulated, all around from proud parents aunts’ uncles and some grandparents. The room was filled to over flowing with Christmas spirit. Ben and Marie had patiently and kindly offered their applause and encouragements to all the children, but they both were becoming edgy, their own sons had yet to preform, and Ben was beginning to fear Hoss might have really skipped out, and Adam had left to find him. And he was more than a little, skittish, wondering just where in the word, and what was Joseph up too. In the long lull between the last act and the next, Ben leaned down and whispered into his wife’s ear. “I fear I better go see. . .”

But Mrs. Campbell called for quiet as she announced the last family’s presentation. Adam walked out from the vestibule with a chair and placed it in the middle of the isle, resting his guitar on his knee, he took a deep breath and with a slight nod he began to strum softly. Hoss shyly shuffled out holding onto Joe’s hand. Joe, bright and animated as always his wave enthusiastic, a big grin splitting his face, eyes glittery and glowing like his mother’s, the deep emerald color vibrant. He was about to say something but the sharp look and tiny frown from Adam, brought him back, he wiggled a little and rubbed at his nose, but his eyes were now trained directly on the cues coming from Adam. Afer a few more bars, Adam nodded, and softly, Hoss, never looking up, face pale, hands clenched, his voice rose wavering, but grew stronger, as Adam smiled and encouraged with his eyes and nods.

“Jesus, our brother kind and good.”

The words hesitant but sweet.

“Jesus our brother kind and good,

wuz humly borned in a staple of wood.

Jesus our brother kind and good.”

Adam sucked in a long breath and tried not to grimace, as he concentrated on playing and keeping Hoss from bolting. Pasting a wide smile on his face, it was Joe who in truth had him worried the most. He was already wiggling more, and scratching his hair, looking out over the audience and mugging. Ben shifted in his seat, muttering under his breath,(what idiot thought this up. Any minute now he is going to. . .) Joe wrinkled his nose and trotted down to Adam . . . “I fink I gotta, pee.”

Adam stopped playing, pulling on his ear blushing. “Can’t you wait?”

“You said I was aposed’ to say I gotta pee” Joe looked earnestly into his brother’s face. Adam pulled him close. “Not now. . . “ he grumbled into Joe’s ear.

“O, sorry,” He went back to stand by Hoss. Waving to the crowd, he called. “Its okay, Ad-um sayded not yet.”

A jolly chuckle swept over the audience, Adam ducked his head shooting a slight glance in the direction of his parents, the way his fathers jaw was working, made him slip his finger along the string, the guitar twanged loudly in protest.

The friendly beets around him stood.

Jesus our brover’ kind and good.

Hoss licked his lips, every second brought him closer to panic, but Adam doggedly kept playing and urging him to keep at it with his eyes. The answer and saving grace that turned the disaster around, however, came with a price tag. There were already around the room sniggers, and guffaws, at Hoss’ expense most parents did their best to shush them, with sharp glances or whispered warnings. Ben felt his face grow red, how dare they. He and his family had listened and cheered on all the others, now these same children had the audacity to laugh.

Marie looked at him and placed her hand gently on his, squeezing tightly, she moved her head almost imperceptibly. Her eyes on her sons.

Joe Cartwright, who was to be known as many things, as the years passed, shy was never one, anyone ever thought of when describing Joseph.

With a go ahead from Adam the slightly shrill, high, voice of a young child, filled the church. His lungs filled to capacity, Joe sang his little heart out. Adam scrunched his face, closing his eyes, and began to think Hoss was right.

Hoss continued to mumble along, now completely flustered, unable to keep the tune or words clear in his head. The results were a soft gravely mumble, the sweet gentle notes of the guitar, and the brave if not slightly off key, baby treble, blended together in what could only be a rather unorthodox melody, flavored nevertheless with love, and at least on the part of one of the singers, great zeal, gusto, and pluck.

.

“I sayed the dunk- eeey, shabby an’ round!”

“I carried his mama, uphill, and down.”

Each new part was accented with great hand motions to illustrate his point.

“I carried her savef to beth’s ham down”

“I sayed the Dunk- eeey shabby an’ round”

Hoss looked at him, and then at Adam, who just smiled and played on.

“I sayed the cow what’s name was Fred.”

“ I gaved him my hey for hims mangy ole’ bed.”

Joe spread his arms wide to indicate a bed.

“On my hay he lay (Deep breath and swallow) Grinning he continued.

Hims head”

.

“I sayed the cow what’s name was Fred.

There was nothing to do but try to follow along, as Joe continued to mangle and twist the intended gentle Christmas song into a comedy act, with hand, face and eye movements.

“I sayed the man who’s curls was long.”

“I gived him my wool fer his blanket warm.”

“He wareded my goat on Chrismas morn”.

“I sayed the man who’s curls was long.”

Taking another deep breath he looked up at Hoss and grinned, tugging on his brothers hand. “Ya jes’ gotta sing loud, Hoss, that’s what they like . . . Watch.” And he increased the sound he created as music.

“I sayed a dog wiff rats what fly.”

“I glued him to sheep so he can’t cry.”

“ We glued him to sheep, my glove an I.”

Hoss, jabbed him gently with his elbow, Joe leaned away, wiggling his bottom.

“I sayed a dog wiff rats what fly.

Joe swallowed with a big sigh, he was getting tired using all his energy to sing. But he would not give up. He was bound to do his part.

“I sayed the Cam-els, Able and Jack”

“All the desert was on his back.”

“I sayed the Cam-els Able and Jack.”

“I carried his stuff in them guys sack”.

“I sayed the Cam-els Able and Jack.”

With one last great sigh, he finished the song, with style, as only Little Joe Cartwright could.

“Then all them beets by maggets smell,

“In the stay-bull dark wuz glad to tell,

“The gifts he gots, a man so well!”

“THE, GIFTS, HE GOTS, A MAN. . . . SOOOO WEELLLL!”

When he finished, amongst hilarity, and great clapping, Joe took a deep bow, then again and again and again. Until Hoss, in a non-brotherly way, removed him from the steps at the front of the church and dragged more than brought him to his mortified parents. Who were in the middle of a crowd, people wiping their eyes, holding their sides, clapping Ben on the back and patting Marie’s hands in both glee and sympathy.

“Ben, that has to be the best rendition of that old carol, I have ever, heard.” Dr. Paul Martin claimed. Martha Devlin, patted her shoulder, “Don’t worry dear, he is young yet, there is still time.” To herself she thought, ‘but I sincerely doubt it.’

Adam stood and quietly put the chair away and slipped behind the altar, how was he going to

face his father and mother, and he still had the real present to concentrate on. ‘Oh Little Joe,

what was I thinking, letting you, get up infront of all those people, poor Hoss, he will never

forgive me. I wouldn’t blame him if when we get home he takes whatever he has intended for

me and beats me over the head with it. And I would deserve every lump.’

Joe fought his way through the crowd as Marie sat there in the pew, covering her face.

“Scuse me,” he pushed his way past Mrs. Gordon, who caught him and pinched his cheek. “You are so cute, you little thing.” He glared at her and rubbed his face. When he reached Marie, he chimed loudly.

“Did ya here me mama?” I singed vwerry loud so’s God cud here me all the way to heve’n, an baby Jesus too.” Looking all around at the smiling faces, he climbed into her lap.

“Y-yess precious, you certainly did sing loud.” Marie weakly answered.

The little boy fairly beamed as he settled into her, turning his face up to see his father.“ Did ya hear me tooo Papa?”

“Oh, yes Joseph I did, son, very well in fact.” (Only too well) Ben also tried to smile at the happy little face.

“See Hoss I tellede ya, they liked- ed it.”

Hoss sank down next to Marie looking so heartbroken and unhappy, there he had stood frozen in front of all those people, and his little baby brother pulled the whole thing off with such ease and charm.

“Ahem, may I have just a moment more of your time.”

Mrs. Campbell had once again taken front stage, when everyone had quieted down, she smiled her eyes twinkling at the last two entertainers. Joe resting back on his mother thumb in his mouth, twisting his curls with his other hand. Hoss face still tinged with red, leaned into his father’s warm and reassuring side, Ben’s strong arm around his shoulder, hugged in a sympathetic and understanding way. “I think you did a wonderful job Hoss,” he leaned down and whispered.

“The refreshments will be ready in a short while, in the mean time, I have a special addition to the program. The contents have been left off, at the request of the presenter. There was a quick look around the room, as everyone tried to be the one to figure out who the mystery person was. As this was going on Ross and Pete assembled and set up a three-fold screen at the top of the two steps leading to the altar platform.

There was a ripple of anticipation and wonder, as the minutes ticked by and no one had shown up. After setting up the screen, Pete and Ross went around lowering the wicks in the many lamps around the room. “Mama, I gotta pee.” Joe whispered. As Marie made to move, Hoss touched her arm, “No, mama, I’ll do it, I kinda got an inklin’ fer’ some fresh air, if ya don’t mind, I’ll watch um’ promise.”

She looked into his face barley visibly as the room darkened, and felt his shame, she touched his warm face, and whispered back. ‘Yes, I know you will son, thank you son. But be careful and hurry back.” Hoss smiled then for the first time, and she felt a tingle glow all over her.

Joe did have to pee, but he managed quicker than Hoss expected. They slipped back into the church’s back door, and met Reverend Thomas and Mrs. Campbell waiting for them. With her finger to her lips she led Joe behind the screen sitting him on the lower step where he would not be seen from the other side. Very carefully she handed him the tiny silver triangle and little hammer, cautioning him not to play it until she gave him the signal. He nodded, all silly-ness gone, his little face was all serious and concentration. Hoss went with Reverend Thomas to the stairs off to the vestibule where the ropes to the bell tower hung.

Slowly a glow grew behind the screen, until it highlighted a silhouette of a tall young boy, head down on his chest. As the light grew, he raised his face until he was looking up at the unseen heavens. There came a pure ting’ of a silver triangle, three single chimes rose and echoed away, the strands of the church organ, slowly filled the room. It halted. His shoulders straight, the boy slowly with a small tremor began, a sweet, reverent, song, so full of feeling and depth, it caught everyone off guard, many felt their skin tingle, at the purity, of a voice, destine to have power and command, a deep baritone voice, not yet matured, holding such promise, in its unsullied state it echoed out to float over the captive audience.

Ave Maria gratia plena,

Maria gratia plena,

Maria gratia plena.

Ave ave Dominus.

Dominus te-cum

.

Benedicta tu in mulieribus.

Et benedictus.

Et benedictus fructus ventris,

Ventris tui Iesus.

Ave Maria.

The triangle tings once.

Ave Maria Mater Dei.

Ora pro nobis pecatoribus.

Ora ora pro nobis.

Ora ora pro nobis peccatoribus.

Nunc et in hora mortis.

In hora mortis nostrae.

In hora mortis mortis nostrae.

In hora mortis nostrae.

Ave Maria.

The triangle tings twice more.

Ave Maria gratia plena.

Maria gratia plena

.

Maria gratia plena.

Ave ave Dominus.

Dominus te cum.

Benedicta tu in mulieribus.

Et benedictus.

Et benedictus fructus ventris,

Ventris tui Iesus.

Ave Maria.

Ave Maria, gratia plena,

Dominus, tecum,

benedicta tu in mulieribus

et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus.

Sancta Maria, sancta Maria,

Maria, ora pro nobis nobis peccatoribus,

nunc et in hora, in hora mortis nostrae.

Amen! Amen!

When the last notes died away, the tiny triangle sounded sweetly.

Marie, felt her chest tighten, her eyes went wide, if it wasn’t for Ben’s arm around her, she would have fainted, she felt herself shaking, every fiber in her trembled. She looked up at Ben, her eyes glistening in the dark, but it was not over yet.

Once again the audience was called, this time with the sound of the church bell ringing loud and clear in the still, late afternoon, three times its dong heralded a new song.

Adeste Fideles

Laeti triumphantes

Venite, venite in Bethlehem

Natum videte

Regem angelorum

Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Dominum

The bell’s rang out again.

Cantetunc io

Chorus angelorum

Cantet nunc aula caelestium

Gloria,

Gloria in excelsis Deo

Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Dominum

And again the church reverberated with the bells tole.

Ergo qui natus

Die hodierna

Jesu, tibi sit gloria

Patris aeterni

Verbum caro factus

Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Venite adoremus,

Dominum.

By now almost every soul in the building sat silent, almost as if they feared to breath would break the spell.

Marie Cartwright, silently wept tears of joy, not in all her young years, had her heart felt these songs go so deep into her soul. These most holy and sacred songs, sung with such reverence, passion and deep feeling. And knowing they were sung just for her, words that meant more to her, than someone who did not understand where she came from, or the meaning in them to her, their beauty and precious symbolism could never be grasped.

The organ softly called and the tiny triangle tinged, the bells had ceased. One last time the voice rose with a tremble, and hesitantly began.

Minuit, chre’etiens,

C’est l’heure solennelle

O l’Homme Dieu descendit jusqu’ a’ nous

Pour effacer la trache originelle

Et de son pere arreter le courroux.

Le mode entier tressaille d’esperance

En cette nuit qui lui donne un sauveur.

Peuple a genoux,

Attends ta deliverance!

Noel’ Noel’

Voici le Redempteur!

Noel’ Noel’

Voici le Redempteur!

Le redempteur

A brise toute entrave:

La terra est libre

Et le cie! Est ouvert.

Il voit un frere

ou n’etait qu’ un esclave;

L’amour unit ceux qu’enchainait le fer.

Qui lui dira notre reconnaissance?

C’est pour nous tous qu’il nait.

Qu’il souffre et murt.

Peuple debout

.

Chante ta delivrance!

Noel’ Noel’

Chantons le Redenpteure!

Noel’ Noel’

Chantons le Redempterue!

The very last notes hung in the air, as the little triangle, tinged softly three more times, then the room went silent. The light behind the screen dimmed a little and the silhouette turned toward the hidden audience. He held out his arms to his side and on each side appeared another, one quite small the other almost even, but bigger in frame.

“As the eldest of your three sons, I have elected to speak for us.”

The words were carefully spoken in flawless French.

“Mother, we your sons, Adam, Eric, and Joseph, wish you a joyous Christmas, We say thank you in a way we knew would make you see just how much ALL of us love and cherish you. We know you long for the traditions of this holy day, that you have missed since coming into our lives, and from the bottom of our hearts,” a new quiver shook the timber of the voice. “Especially mine. . .We hope this gift, given in love, and unending devotion, may help you to enjoy the birth of the lord Jesus, to the fullest. Merry Christmas Mama.”

The light was snuffed out. Marie turned to look up at Ben he had tears streaming down his face, his voice caught, his throat so tight he almost suffocated, he looked down on her, the lights were now being turned up. No one seemed inclined to move, or speak, a hush stood over the entire assembly there in the little church. Slowly people shook of the spell woven by the voice. Smiles creased every face, even those that tried not to let them, eyes sparkled, a sniff or ahem, could be heard as everyone moved in the direction of the glorious smells of cider, coffee, cocoa and treats.

To Ben and Marie Cartwright they were the only one’s there. At last he dragged himself into action, pulling her gently to her feet alongside him.

“Did you know of this?” She whispered, dabbing at her teary eyes, still sobbing softly.

“I had no Idea.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the young man slowly approaching, his eyes shone, his dimples lighting his face like a Christmas tree.

He was carrying his little brother who had actually fallen asleep on his feet during Adam’s Christmas wish. Hoss was at his side, Adam’s guitar in his hands. A smile brighter than the milky way over his face, his blue eyes, no longer sad, sparkled like blue ice in lake Tahoe.

When they reached their parents, Ben took Joe from Adam and the unashamed tears still showing, he touched Adam’s face. With a slight nod, he turned to gently guide Hoss back toward the refreshments, with everyone else.

Adam and Marie were left in private. Their eyes met, up until this moment, he had not truly looked at her. She reached out and taking his soft face in her hands, he felt them, tremble as he was.

“Thank you, my son.” Was all she could say. Then, she gently folded him to her heart, he wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her shoulder. She turned her head slightly and placed an angel soft kiss on his hair.

The End.

I only wish I could have sent the music along with the lyrics, so you could all hear what I envisioned in my head. MERRY CHRISTMAS, and may you all, experience all the peace, love, and joy that come to each, and every one of us, on Christmas morning.

*Miss Babett Appears in the Episode “Calamity over the Comstock”

*Ross Appears in the Episode “The Dark Gate”

Mrs. Gertrude Willow is from my story “A Problem with Engineering.”

*Miss Daisy Appears in the Episode “Rich Man, Poor Man”

*Ave Maria, the Latin for the Hail Mary.

Music for this Latin Prayer was written by Franz Schubert (1797-1828)

He first published it in 1826 as Op52 No.6

*Adeste Fidels, Latin version of O’ Come All Ye Faithful.

Thought to be an anonymous Latin hymn, John Wade put text with music in 1751 probably by John Reading (English) 1853). The familiar Translation first appeared. Attributed to Rev. Fredrick Oakley

*O’ Holy Night, the original French version. Cantique de Noel

Written by Adolphe Charles Adams (1803-1856)

Put to music by Placide Clappeau 1847. Translated a few years later.

Information from http://www.carols.org.uk/

Sadie.

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