Elizabeth’s Keepsake

August 2005

By Sadiespinner

The little girl played along the beach. Some wispy strands of her bouncing dark curls pulled loose from the deep red ribbon to swirl out and around her face. Her distinct laughter rose as the salt spray kissed her cheeks. Turning she looked out over the angry dark forbidding waves that crashed willfully against the beach, relentlessly, as if to devour the very sand itself or any creatures that dare to defy its power. Standing tall against the wind buffeting her, she raised her head.

“Go ahead and try, I am not afraid of you old Poseidon, even if you are God of the Sea!” A strong gust further whipped the white caps to a wildly roiling froth. With a great roar they pounded forth, reaching for her. The gust was so strong it forced her to step back and sit down with a surprised “Ooff!’. . . Okay so you are powerful, I am still not frightened,” her big hazel eyes grew wide as a voracious wave surged suddenly all the way up the beach to splash foaming fingers around her, soaking through her skirt, tugging un-mercifully back towards the sea.

“Whoa!” Digging the heels of bare feet deep into the cold wet sand and palms of her hands planted at her side to resist the tide as it retreated leaving deep troughs behind in its wake; she frowned tossing her head. “Is that the best you can do?”

“Elizabeth! Girl what are you thinking!”

The deep voice boomed out over the sound of the wild surf, a bellow even the sea seemed to respect for its fury quelled for the moment. The big bear of a man with thick chin whiskers and dark stormy eyes, strode down the beach to his daughter. Able Morgan Stoddard, Ship’s Captain and most formidable master on the sea, his most intimidating scowl and ferocious growl rolled off his face. He reached down and pulled his daughter to her feet. Hands on his hips he stared down at her, she laughed and threw her arms around him, hugging tightly.

“Oh, Father you worry too much.” Elizabeth released him only to pull him down planting a saucy kiss on his cheek. Having done so she skipped merrily away, stopping only to pick up her cape, stockings, shoes and three other small items. She tucked her treasures into the pocket of her soggy skirt, then Elizabeth grinned impishly back at him, as she blew a kiss on the wind in his direction.

Raising his fist he shook it, his face dark as thunder, but underneath, there was no denying it, Able would move heaven and earth if Elizabeth desired it of him. “Aye child, but ye are my Daughter.”

************************************************************************

The young woman sat in the bed, dreamily twisting the long dark curls around her finger, her mind far away. There was a sudden flutter inside her calling her back from her childhood, tomorrow and her future. When the flutter subsided, she gently and lovingly ran her hand over the swell that held her unborn child. “You are the mischievous one aren’t you, how do you know when I am dreaming?” She laughed out loud, at the absurdity of her words, and the child almost as if in answer seemed to flip-flop.

Mrs. Callahan, the kindly middle aged lady who was called upon to watch over her smiled as she placed the tray containing a bowl of hearty chowder a few dainty gingersnaps and a cup of sweet tea, on the bedside table.

“Is that child giving you trouble again my dear?” Straightening up she continued smiling gently, her sharp eyes gauging from the girls features more than her words, how things were going.

Elizabeth Stoddard Cartwright had been confined to bed. She was expecting her first child in a few weeks. Having suffered a fainting spell, the doctor in precaution prescribed total bed rest. Elizabeth ever strong willed and stubborn, at first refused to give in, but the pleading and badgering by her handsome brown eyed husband, his worried face and at times fear filled eyes were the reason she relented. Setting her dissatisfaction at being held captive aside instead let her dreams and thoughts float in any and all directions.

Now as she scooted up in her bed, her face glowing with excitement she confirmed.

“I declare Mrs. Callahan this child is as willful and stubborn as his father, what will I ever do with both of them?” Then laughing she added. “I suspect he will have a fair share of Stoddard hardheaded attributes to help him along, but don’t you ever tell Ben, I said that!” Her laughter held a childlike quality, her dark eyes sparkled, smirking she giggled again.

“Young lady,” Mary shook her finger sternly but laughter twitched her lips, her own blue eyes lighting with delight, so pleased to see the pale face once again holding some color.

“You Elizabeth Cartwright are incorrigible! I declare.”

Liz pretended to pout looking up under her long black lashes, but in the end gave in and accepted the tray to obediently begin her nourishing meal. When she had eaten all but the cookies, she leaned back, holding her cup of tea she found herself once again daydreaming. Her eyes strayed to the open window and masses of fluffy white clouds that floated lazily past. With a small shout she sat up spilling the tea. “Ohhh, my gracious, look!” she animatedly cried, “That cloud! It . . . looks just like a Sea Horse, don’t you think?” before Mrs. Callahan could move she was almost off the bed.

Quickly the older woman caught her and firmly by ever so gently got her settled back in bed, with a stern warning that she would most certainly tell Dr. James Byron and not only he but her Father and Ben.

A great deal of huffing and pouting went with Liz, as she slid down, her face despite her best effort, took on a whiter complexion. After the standoff diminished, her eyes suddenly turned cloudy, filled with tears.

The intensity in her voice as she made her request came as a surprise, Mary was startled by the almost desperate plea, those shimmering Hazel eyes.

“Please, there is something very important, in my Armoire, I need to see it.”

“Why of course, dear, don’t get yourself upset, remember you have a precious little life you are carrying, who needs you to get stronger.” Softly and with great tenderness she pushed an ebony lock back behind the younger woman’s ear. “Whatever it is I will fetch it for you, if you promise to lay back quietly for a few moments first.”

Elizabeth anxiously played with the counterpane over her middle as she watched the older woman begin to search the innermost depth of the huge piece of furniture.

Slightly out of breath, Mary pulled herself back out shaking her head, “I’m sorry dear, I don’t seem to be able to find what you described. As Elizabeth made as to move she quickly protested.

“No, now take it easy, I am not giving up, I just need a few moments to rest, my, oh my, you do have a quite an assortment squirreled away in here.” Adjusting her dress she ducked back into the dark recesses. Liz waited impatiently listening to the muffed complaints coming from within knowing they were really just for show. At last Mary Callahan pulled herself from the interior, a tiny coral shell box appeared as she untied the satin ribbon and the silk shawl slipped away. She sat on the side of the bed and carefully handed the treasure into the waiting hands.

Their eyes met, Mary nodded and picking up the now empty tray, she began to leave, then, remembered the spilled tea. She slipped the damp coverlet off and replaced it. Elizabeth was lost in another world as she stared out the window while stroking the lid and sides of the box. Slowly the little pink box cupped in her hands came to rest in her lap.

Not uncommon in first time mothers, especially one having to be careful, Elizabeth from time to time, although refusing to admit it, had foreboding feelings, fleeting as they were. This was one of those unexpected moments.

Looking down at her round tummy, she envisioned her child. A frown wrinkled her brow. With a slow sigh she reluctantly opened the lid to expose its contents. There resting on a bed of velvet lay her treasured keepsakes, found on a beach long ago after a great Nor’easters gale. She paused, taking each out in turn, to study them, marveling once again at the exquisite design. She pressed each to her lips then placed them in a row on her stomach. Taking each up in turn so they were silhouetted against the blue of the sky outside her window, in a soft melodious voice she began to whisper.

To my Son, Adam.

Here is a Starfish my little man,

To hold, within your tiny hand.

To remind you of my never ending love,

So like the ones that shine above,

To the ones that swim beneath the Sea.

May it help you keep within your heart,

A special place just for me.

That you open by a tiny Starfish key!

Here is a Sea Horse my little man,

To hold, within your tiny hand.

So your dreams can ride.

Searching traveling, far and wide.

I’ll be right there at your side.

Here is a Sea shell, my little man,

To hold, within your tiny hand.

As you place it next to your ear,

The Ocean’s whispers, that you hear,

Are of my never ending love!

A star, a horse, a shell.

May they always, serve you well.

For what the fates hold in their hands,

No one can tell my little man.

Life is so like the tides and sand.

So Adam my little son, always know.

We must trust in Him what will come.

Until, our time on earth is done!

Your, devoted, for always and forever,

Loving Mother,

Elizabeth

Elizabeth reached over to her bedside table and picked up her notepaper and her quill pen, carefully resting the open ink well next to her on the bed. Then using her beloved copy of “Paradise Lost” to hold the sheet of paper, wrote down what she had composed. When she had it down and the ink dried, adding a gentle kiss after her name she folded it carefully, then placed it on top of her gifts having kissed each lovingly before she reverently returned them to their rest.

Later that evening just before Ben came home she called Mary into see her. Handing her the precious box once again wrapped in silk tied with satin, she made her request. “Please keep this for me, and see Adam gets it.”

“But. . . Why? Child. Besides how do you know you are having a boy?”

Elizabeth refused to answer just shook her head, “Please,” she whispered. Mary very puzzled and a bit un-nerved promised and took the box with her. “But of course I will my dear, now don’t you fret.” She eventually put it down to just pre-baby jitters. They never spoke of it again.

************************************************************************

Adam sniffled, he was feeling particularly and rather unusually sorry for himself. His baby brother Eric, whom he doggedly worked at naming Hoss, was feeling poorly, the people on the wagon train were all fussing over him. He wasn’t jealous, not really, but since Mama Inger was killed, Pa was hard to talk to. He was worried about Hoss too, but when Adam asked one too many times if, and when he was gonna get better, Pa had snapped at him and sent him to the wagon.

Now, alone and dejected he lay looking up at the canvas covering, remembering how his life was while Inger was with him. One day she had shown him a keepsake, it was just before the . . . No! He would not think of that day, he did think of the keepsake though, and how she had explained what it meant, how, it was old and from her homeland. She said Hoss was too little to understand, so they had put it away in Pa’s special trunk, the one Adam was forbidden to touch. He still missed her something awful, no one told him anything or wanted him near Hoss, fearing he too might get sick. Pa was either tending Hoss or off thinking, and did not want to be disturbed. So there he was. Angrily he wiped at the tears that glistened in his eyes. He was not a baby, but boy oh boy, he sure wished someone would come to hold and hug him.

The pain of losing Inger was almost too much. Adam felt his heart was breaking. Getting up slowly he peeked out the back of the wagon, then the front and out under the canvas on each side, no one was around as far as he could tell. Silently as possible he crept over to the place Pa kept his special trunk, it held all kinds of things, and most special was his journal. Quivering all over, his little hands shook as he swallowed and dared touch the trunk. The latch was undone. Slowly he lifted the lid.

The inside of wagon was dim so he had to move things around. Breathlessly he lifted out the journal, reverently placing it by his side. Cautious as a mouse in a maze, he began to search for the keepsake. After a few minutes, perspiration dotting his brow, trickling down his face he came up empty. He sank back dejectedly, it was no use, it seemed even she had deserted him.

Then with one last try, driven by his stubborn streak and need to find refuge and comfort he tried again. With utmost care, Adam slowly methodically lifted out each item his fingers touched. One or two he held for just moment, the music box being one. Desperation settled over him as he felt along the bottom of the trunk. To his amazement he felt an object that seemed to be covered in a smooth almost slippery sort of material. Kneeling up and using both hands he ever so slowly lifted it out and carried it gingerly to near the opening at the rear of the wagon. Placing it down in absolute awe he wiped his hands on his pants legs before he dared touch it again. For a long time he just stared at it, he had never seen it before and was full of wonder about where it came from and why he had no knowledge of it. After all he and Pa were partners, right? Why then didn’t Pa tell him about this, and where it came from?

He gulped. Of course, this was in Pa’s private trunk, the one he was strictly forbidden to touch. Mesmerized he watched it until he could no longer stand not knowing what it contained. With false bravado he began to open the ribbon, the sweat popped up on his forehead again, this time it ran in rivulets down his face and tickled its way down his back.

The ribbon did not want to give at first, and although his fingers trembled, he managed to pull it open, laying each cross piece back his heart hammering with every breath. Measured movements befitting this wonder steadied his hand to ever so slowly, unwrap it. The silk slid away like butter down a stack of hotcakes. Adam sat back transfixed.

As if on cue the sun chose that moment to slide down the sky just enough to send a brilliant shaft in through the opening. The little box began to glow with a soft pink light. Stunned Adam backed away. So many wild thoughts raced through his head. He almost shoved it back in the trunk and ran as fast and as far as he could. At the last minute he remembered Pa and why he was in the wagon. Fear warred with desire in his mind. Despite being fully aware of the consequences of his action, he pressed on, for even his father’s anger was better than the emptiness in his heart. Creeping back he dared to lift the lid, the small sheet of paper began to unfold as if on it’s own, eager to be free of its prison. Waiting for it to stop moving, Adam licked his lips, his brow rose to almost disappear behind the dark wavy locks falling there, his eyes darted to the world outside his haven, nothing moved. Immense relief flooding his chest, the hammering slowed down but the excitement mounted.

Rash as his action had been he could not turn back now. Lifting the paper, which was ever so perfectly folded. Adam caught a sweet unfamiliar sent emanating from the paper, slowly spreading out, then floating up rising on the air. Twitching, his nose sniffed all around to catch every wisp.

Once unfolded he placed it on his lap, the writing was in flowing airy script, he did not really know how to decipher script yet, Mama had started to teach him, Pa had promised, before … No, not that again!

Off in a glade not far from the wagons where he had retreated seeking solitude Ben was slowly coming out of his fog of grief, although tired beyond endurance, he forced himself to stand tall and begin to resume his life, starting with checking in on his youngest son. Finding the little boy had rounded the corner the huge weight on his shoulders was lifted. Fever broken he was now smiling and obviously hungry. Tears, tears of relief, gratitude, love and thanks, rained down. Clutching his baby he choked out a thank you, only to be told no thanks were warranted. Martha detached the baby from his unwilling grasp.

“Now, Ben, be reasonable, he is still a sick little boy, he needs nourishment, leave him with me for tonight, and go tell Adam his little brother is going to be just fine. That poor lad has been so worried, and I’ll wager, hasn’t had it very easy either. He cares so deeply about this tyke, and his Pa. Go to him Ben, tell him everything is okay.”

Silently Ben looked around at the smiling faces of his friends and travel companions, the compassion and understanding overwhelmed him. With an embarrassed dash at his eyes and cough to clear the lump in his throat, he simply nodded and with one last gentle kiss to the little blond hair and touch to his baby backed away to seek out his older son. Guilt filled his heart and eyes.

How could he not have seen, felt, known what Adam was going through? Muttering all kinds of self reproach he half ran to their wagon, surprising himself to find he was worried about the way Adam would receive him. Adam could be very hard headed and it often took him a long time to get over things like this. The butterflies in his stomach grew as he stopped just outside to draw a deep breath and plaster a warm, hopefully well received, smile on his weary face.

Pushing back the canvas he began to haul himself inside.

Frowning deeply the boy focused all his energy on the words, following each with his little finger as he sounded out what he thought they might be. Stumbling along, he would pause to shake his head in frustration when he felt he had the wrong word, completely absorbed, in his endeavor.

The sight that greeted Ben for the moment confused him. He shook his head as he climbed the rest of the way in. Adam while engrossed in the paper backed up enough to accommodate him, but otherwise seemed impervious to his presence.

Ben’s eyes traveled to the open trunk, never missing a single thing reverently placed outside it spoke volumes. Adam had committed an act of bold disobedience, and Ben found it hard to believe. The evidence was clear, and yet the boy sat oblivious to him, alarmingly unfazed by his misbehavior.

Easing all the way in he struggled for control and the right approach. Right now their worlds were tilted way off their axis for both of them.

“Adam?” he got no response, Adam failed to heed his name being spoken.

Scooting closer Ben tried again.

“What have you got there? Son?” “Can I see?”

Slowly the head came up eyes widened to enormous size his face dropped going three shades of white.

Ben studied his face for a long silent moment, his eyes going over every inch of him. With slow inviting movements he reached out. In answer, little arm, trembling so the paper looked to be fluttering in a breeze, Adam placed it in his fathers out stretched hand.

Carefully never taking his eyes off the boy, Ben brought the paper into focus, his_ expression unreadable to the boy, for he was as lost as Adam as to where it had come from.

Without warning, like a kick from a mule to his middle it hit him. The handwriting jumped out at him. His first instinct was to crush it, and rage at life’s unfairness. He felt it unwittingly begin to crinkle in his hand. The strangled cry and little fingers grasping his caught him off guard. Adam was looking up at him his face horror stricken.

“N-noo-P-a-… Please-it-it’s -gulp! Fr-r um-m-my m-m-”

Ben collapsed back into the side of the wagon with such force it shook. Gradually he recovered enough to clearly see the child clinging to his hand, and his_ expression. Ben closed his eyes; visions of Elizabeth swam before him. No, this was not possible, please God, not now, was he not suffering enough.

The little hand shakily caressing his cheek suddenly punched holes in his inner visions. In an action he had not taken for a while Adam crawled into his father’s lap and wrapped his arms around him hugging his head to Ben’s chest, feeling the rapidly beating heart, and hearing the ragged uneven breaths rushing in and out.

“I’m s-s-orry Pa, please, please be alright.” He fervently whispered.

In spite of the fact he was often wise beyond his years, at this moment Adam truly felt his father was in danger of dieing due to his actions in opening the trunk.

Feeling the quaking little boy desperately clinging to him, Ben hugged back, looking up and all around the confines of his wagon. How? How on earth, could he ever explain to his son, her son, the effects that paper had on his mind heart and soul. This being so, one thing he did know, Adam needed him right now, and that was his priority nothing else mattered. With trembling arms he hugged tighter and preyed for the right words to come. It took an eternity but at last they did.

Gently prying the arms from around him, he sat the boy back and wiped the tears away with his thumbs, and then finding his handkerchief finished the job. A small smile on his own face, he ventured.

“Feeling better now son?”

Adam nodded but dared not look up. With one finger Ben lifted the small chin so he could look into Adam’s face.

“First, Adam I am not in any immediate danger of dieing, at least not from what you think.” A soft chuckle slipped from his lips. Continuing in that same soft even voice, he proceeded with his inquiry.

“You know you aren’t supposed to go into that trunk, don’t you?”

Adam swallowed and looking his father in the face, hard as it was, truthfully answered.

“Yes sir.” It was barely audible.

“I see, then why did you?”

Adam seemed to shrink, as he searched for the words, he did not fully understand himself, but Pa was asking, so Adam did his best to answer.

“Pa, I-I- Hoss, he…”

Ben stopped him right there, “Eric, um-Hoss,” he smiled at the light the word brought to the dark little eyes. “Your brother_ Hoss is going to be alright, his fever is gone and he is hungry! so no more worrying alright?”

Adam’s smile shot up to his eyes his dimples blossomed until his face fairly radiated joy, then it fell, he still had to deal with his disobedience, and the consequences sure to follow.

Ben did not have to guess what brought the sudden drop to his son’s face. Shifting to get more comfortable he moved Adam in his lap so he was sitting on one knee. “Adam we have a lot of talking to do, and some things we have to deal with, do we not?”

Adam nodded, plying with is fathers vest buckles, very much like little Hoss did.

“Okay, then, now that you know Hoss is doing better, lets move on to the next item.” Pointing to the open chest and its contents surrounding it Ben waited. Adam ducked his head, he could not look he already knew what was there.

“I asked before, and I ask again, what were you doing?” This time there was the familiar and unmistakable firmness that went along with the softness in the voice that prodded him for an answer.

“I-I.” He hated when he stuttered. “N-needed ta- ta find Mama’s kee-p-ake.” He startled himself and his father with the hiccup that came out with the word.

“I see, and?”

“Oh Pa,” Unable to go on he turned and pressed his face into Ben’s shoulder. Ben ran his hand down the back of his silky hair, gently squeezing his neck before moving down to rub soft comforting circles between his shoulders. Making soft soothing noises, he placed his own head down on Adam’s.

It took a while. Getting things out of Adam often as not was harder than getting water from a rock. As the sun declined Ben wearily managed to put the puzzle together. Looking over at the paper he lifted Adam on one arm and with the other hand refolded then placed the paper back into the box with the cover on, he wrapped it in his hand. Carefully he emerged into the waning day, the sky was streaked with baby blue, peach and pink. Walking over to the fallen log they used as a seat, he wondered if he could go through with this, a vague memory wavered in his head. Was it something about Mrs. Callahan? He thought it might be the day she left them to return to tend her failing sister, Adam was almost two at the time. What was it she had said? He was only half listening as they stood at the stage depot. Slowly, item-by-item she was running down all the lists she had made for him in regards to Adam. Fuzzy as it was it pricked his memory until it stood out.

************************************************************************

“Ben, Ben . . . Are you listening to me at all?” The young man holding the little boy in his arms blushed, then smiling sadly he nodded trying to look like he had been listening.

“What I was saying was, there is something I tucked away in the bottom of your trunk . . . Oh, I know this is your personal trunk, but it is the safest place I could think of. Please give it to Adam when the time is right and you have a quiet moment. It is a keepsake for him, it’s in a little box covered with silk and tied with a deep red ribbon.” Her voice was firm at the same time gentle and sad, to see such pain still bright in his eyes drawing a frown onto his handsome young face.

“Please Ben, she entrusted this to me, and now I have to leave it in your hands.” The stage pulled in, she tearfully hugged Ben and Adam, the quiet little boy, did not understand her leaving or the tears. He reached and touched her face. “Good by sweet boy, God be with you Ben, I know you will find your dream, please write if you get the chance, I shall miss you both terribly.” Turning, she climbed quickly into the coach, the door shut and she exited their lives.

His chest seemed to fold in on him robbing him of air in his lungs. Ben sat down, Adam on his lap. With his arms encircling their son, Elizabeth all around and inside him, he placed the box in Adam’s lap. Together they slid off the lid, just as before the paper as if by magic slowly sat up. The same distant long forgotten scent of lavender floated up. Fighting the urge to flee, Ben helped Adam open the paper all the way, then paper in one hand he reached in and delicately lifted out each precious item, wondering himself at the meaning of each, and the beauty of Gods creations, even now dry and faded from the years. He could not help but wonder when she had found them, how, and where, was she a child, like the one in his lap? One so much like her, intelligent, sensitive, full of questions, seeking answers to all matters of things. Stubbornly refusing to give up until those answers were satisfied to her liking. He looked down into the expectant face, dark ebony hair, bright inquisitive eyes, and when he let them show, deep wonderful dimples.

Careful of the fact these items were by now so very fragile, he placed them tenderly, one at a time in Adam’s open hand. Gathering all his courage and willpower he held the paper so Adam and he could see it together. As he began to read, he felt like he was suffocating but refused to give in, a few times his vision blurred to the point he almost could not see.

When he had finished they both sat silently looking upon the gifts Elizabeth had left for them to share, talk about and remember her by. Tears in both sets of eyes told of love, comfort and pain of loss.

“Can you r-read it again P-pa, so-so I can learn it, and read it myself?” Adam hopefully looked up. Ben was not sure he could do it again but he could not in all good conscience deny his son for to do so was to deny her. How then could he refuse? Once more as he began, voice hoarse and trembling, Adam stopped him. “Can you go slower Pa, so I can know them?” He put his little finger on the word he knew was his name, he recognized the letters, even if they were in script. “All right boy.” Ben whispered, holding Adam a little tighter they began again, Adam repeating each word and committing it to memory.

It was after supper when Ben approached the subject, Adam had been wondering when he would get to it, and hoping under the circumstances Pa just might forget. He knew better, when it came to this kind of thing, Pa never forgot. Ben wrestled with his conscience, despite the reason behind his son’s actions, the fact remained, Adam, had done something he had been forbidden to do. In all fairness to Adam it had to be dealt with now. . All manners of suitable punishments were weighed; he had no room to confine him to; no yard for that matter. Adam did more than his share of chores, giving him more was not an option. With a heavy heart and sigh he knew what he must do.

“Adam come over here, we still have the matter of my trunk to deal with, right?”

Adam stood up he had been lying on his blanket beside the wagon, his keepsakes lined up in front of him as he imagined them in all kinds of adventures under the sea between reciting his poem over and over, sometimes softly out loud sometimes just in his head. Dreading what he knew was coming he hesitated, giving them one last longing look he walked over to his father. “Yes sir.”

“Son, you know I love you, don’t you? I do understand this has been a very hard day for you, in fact I know it is closer to weeks, perhaps a month or even two, but that dose not excuse what you did. I truly understand your need, and as I said I am heart-fully sorry you had such a hard time, but now that things are better, I am afraid I can not let this pass, do you understand Adam?” The boy put his hands behind him, and nodded.

“Very well.”

It was over in a few minutes Adam offered his father his tearful apology, Ben, lovingly enfolded him in his arms and accepted it.

Adam returned to his treasures, he had paid the price for his actions, and would be reminded for the rest of the night and tomorrow, but it was okay, Pa had not taken them away to be locked up in the trunk. The fear of this was far harder for him to deal with. His being allowed to keep his very own keepsake to help him know his mother loved him, along with the warmth it brought his heart, helped cool the warmth his father left in his bottom.

Adam was not sure what year his treasure box of keepsakes was lost or Hoss’ either. From time to time he would wonder about it, even to the point of thinking it might never have existed at all. Then on the eve of his leaving for College back East, Ben went up in the attic at his youngest sons demands that he find something for Adam to take so he would not forget him. No amount of convincing and declaring, promises or threats made one bit of difference. It was this last ditch effort to see Adam off without added stress, driving Ben’s rummaging around in the stuffy attic. Unexpectedly he came across an old carpet bag, long ago discarded in the deepest corner. He hardly recognized it as belonging to any of them. Sitting down on a chair, he placed it on his knee, it was filthy, so much so you could not tell the color or design on the faded material or the warn strap so cracked and dry.

Sneezing multiple times from the dust Ben almost tossed it aside as empty but something moved inside, with a curious snort he undid the buckle, to reach inside. Shock registered on his face as his fingers felt the familiar form so long ago assumed lost in the travel years. He drew it out slowly, the silk was faded and almost paper thin, the dark satin ribbon now pale brownish.

Cupping the item in both hands his heart racing, he rushed to the attic crawlspace tucking it inside his shirt he took the lantern and climbed down the ladder. He had found an unexpected treasure, but not what he had been searching for.

Adam looked up startled as his father swung open his door, “Son, you will never guess what I just discovered in the attic!” he excitedly cried. In an attempt to conceal his hold on his emotions Adam quipped, “Let me think …oh, but of course.” He snapped his fingers. “The attic is full of cobwebs!” His eyes twinkled and teased. Ben looked up to see his hair covered in dusty remains of cobwebs. “No, no, well, yes, but . . . ”

“Look!”

At the sound of an obvious commotion mixed with raised voices Hoss and Joe raced upstairs into the room fearing they were fighting. Adam struggled to his feet from the floor where he sat surrounded by piles of things he was trying to categorize as take or leave. Slowly and with a slight limp, as his legs folded under him for so long had started to go numb came over to his father. “I don’t believe it.” He breathed. “My keepsakes?” His eyes devoured once again, the treasure long thought to be lost

Joe only half listening as usual, began to jump up and down; “Me-me-me!” he yelled “Let meeee-let mee.”

Ben grabbed the bouncing bit of energy by the shoulders and holding him to himself, eventually halted the movement and covering Joe’s mouth muffled the volume.

“Shush! Little Joe calm down and be still, stop yelling we have no idea what you are talking about.” Joe’s struggle petered out ending with a pout as Ben removed is hand.

“There, now Joseph what are you so all fired up over?”

Joe eyed the three of them, sure he was being set up, and he crossed his little arms over his chest and glared. “It ain’t”, Adam and Ben flinched. “Fair,” Joe complained, “Why can’t I get a chance to mind them?”

“Mind What?” Ben pinched the bridge of his nose, so much for a peaceful last night.

“You know what!” Joe shot back, but the look he got made him quickly change his tune, “S-sorry Papa, didn’ mean ta talk fresh to ya.”

His hands moved behind him fingers spread wide.

“Well see you mind your tongue, young man, I don’t want to spoil Adam’s last night with your bad behavior.”

The little boy hung his head, after all he was only five, and he couldn’t help if he got excited, but the chance to do this was very important to him.

“Yes, sir, I’ll member,” “but can I?”

‘Here we go again, circles, always circles. Gosh I will miss these crazy conversations, Little Joe so sure of what he is saying and Pa and the rest of us scrambling to make sense of his jumbled lightning fast thoughts.’ Adam tore his eyes from his box to smile gently at the tiny boy standing feet apart hands on his little hips as he stared all the way up at his father’s face, his determination as good as written in stone. ‘Not unlike
Ben Cartwright’s oldest son.’ He continued to think, not noticing the slight blush that bloomed on his cheeks.

His patience drained, Ben used his special voice to put and end to this merry-go-round.

“Joseph, I have no idea what on earth you want?”

Joe looked so shocked, he blinked then scratching his head he sighed, “Papa I jes’ wus want-tin ta gets a chance ta mind Adam’s snakes, when he goes to col-col- school, that’s all . . . So? Can I Papa can I Pleeezzz, cuz I an’t fraid of em, less theys a ol’ rattle kind, they ain’t is they?”

Ben tossed his hands in the air, then covered his face sinking down on the chair by the bed, shaking his head in wonder, at this child’s imagination.

Suddenly Hoss who had been quietly watching the goings on, began to chuckle, then it grew into one of his deep contagious laughs, his big blue eyes watering so he had to wipe it away and gasp for air.

“Hoss!” Ben’s face now held a fierce scowl. “What in tar-nation is the matter with you now?” he bellowed. Poor Hoss stood up straight, the merriment vanishing. With a big gulp, he glanced at both his brothers, before offering his Pa an apologetic little grin and shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry Pa, but don’t ya see?”

“See What!!! See that, this, your brother Adam’s last night at home is turning into a – a..

“No sir, but gee wiz Pa, ya got ta admit it’s funny.”

It suddenly dawned on Hoss, neither Ben or Adam realized Joe’s misunderstanding only hearing what he thought was keeping snakes, instead of Keepsakes.

A few hours later after dinner the family had finally settled down, much to his disappointment Joe understood there would be no snake keeping in relation to Adam’s leaving.

The little boy wandered into Adam’s room, scrubbed and ready for bed. Adam had promised to come tell him a special story. Joe was restless and did not want to wait.

In his room Adam was himself lost in his keepsake box.

Coming up to the bed where his big brother sat Joe leaned his head on Adam’s arm as Adam held the box between his hands staring at it.

“Adam are ya gonna come n’ read ta me?”

He picked his head up to peer at Adam. “Sa matter Adam? Are ya fraid?” The little hand patted him.

Adam turned and looked into Joe’s deep emerald green-sparked eyes, for the moment he could not speak, then without a word he swept him up into his arms, right hand firmly gripping the little box. Standing quickly he spun around and around, till Joe’s high pitched giggle resounded all through the house.

Both dizzy he staggered back and sat on the bed, hugging his baby brother he asked.

“Tell you what, how about I let you mind my keepsakes for me, and when you get lonely and missing me, like I will miss you. Tell Pa to take them down and let you hold them. In fact I have a great idea. How would you like it if I make up a very special poem just for you all about them? Then by the time I get home, you will be able to read it all by yourself to me, and practicing it will make the time go faster . . .What do you say?”

The dark eyes studied the little face, as the thoughts clearly danced in the green ones and were gratified by the big smile and luminescent shimmer that shown back.

“Wow, Adam do ya mean it fer real?” He flung his arms around Adam’s neck and hugged for all he was worth, then for good measure he planted a kiss on Adam’ cheek.

“For real little buddy, have I ever lied to you?”

Ben stopped dead in his tracks he was coming down the hall to tell Joe it was bed time. As he neared Adams room he heard the voices of his oldest and youngest sons.

His heart swelled with pride and love as he listened before entering.

When he did he found Joe in Adam’s lap they were in the big stuffed chair, it had been pulled next to the nightstand and the lamp had been turned up. Adam was placing a small object on Joe’s open palm. The look of awe and wonder on the little boys face no money in the world, not all the gold and silver of the Comstock, could match. The feeling generated in him at that moment language had yet found sounds exquisite enough to explain. When Joe had all three in his hand Adam began to recite the poem that had been building in his head ever since he had been re-united with his treasures. Ben stood there in the doorway as the words washed over him spoken by that rich newly deepened baritone, wove a bit of magic for a little boy to keep him from missing his big brother to deeply over the next long four years. Buried in that same magic was hope, so when he returned, that little boy would still need and love him as he did right now.

Ben had slipped away and retreated to the end of his porch to look up into the darkening sky. “Elizabeth, My Love,

You would be so proud of him, and your keepsakes though lost and now found have served him well over the years. With great trepidation yet filled with enormous pride, I send him on his way back to his birthplace to learn and grow even more, to quench his need for knowing. To fill his head with all the wonderful things he has missed while we searched for our dream. However he leaves your precious keepsakes in another pair of little hands, just as you did, to help his little brother to remember his_ never ending love. Thank you, my love, please watch over him while he is so far from me, after all, he is my greatest keepsake, from you.”

Another round of giggles floated down on him from the open window, the time had come for Joe to be in bed, Hoss would soon follow. Then when the house settled in for the night came his and Adam’s special time together more meaningful then ever, a time for sharing, talking, and true companionship. Yes he would miss Elizabeth’s keepsake, but would hold him deep in his heart until he returned.

The End.

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