A Cartwright Christmas Story

By Bakerj

He was still miles from home on Christmas Eve, but he couldn’t return empty-handed, not again.  His family depended on him, and the thought of facing them with failure on his lips. No. He couldn’t, wouldn’t do it.  Not again. Bad enough the specter of starvation in his children’s eyes, but Mary was too good a woman.  She never looked at him with disappointment or said a word of reproach.  Somehow, that made it worse.

He pulled his horse up when the ranch house came into view.  Why was he here?  He wasn’t sure.  No.  That wasn’t true. 

On his way back from his futile trip to find work in Placerville, the conversation overheard in Virginia City returned to him.  The men, laughing and joking how the Cartwrights had been to town and bought up half the store for their Christmas party.  That’s when he’d turned his horse toward the Ponderosa.  Rich men in a big house.  Rich men with money he didn’t have.  Yeah.  He knew why he was here.

*****

“Dadburn you, Little Joe.  You throw another snowball, and I’m liable to knock you into next week!”

Joe’s merry laugh got louder seeing the grin Hoss couldn’t keep from his face.  He turned back to the job of shoveling while contemplating how long to wait before getting Hoss again.  A pile of snow descended on his head.  He let loose a yelp!  Falling on his butt, he squirmed as frozen sludge slipped past the woolen collar of his coat and down his neck.  Behind him, Hoss roared with laughter.

Joe spun around.  The look in his eyes backed Hoss away fast.  His hands held out in front of him.

“Hold on, little brother.  Don’t go doing something you’ll regret.”

“Oh no.  I’m not gonna regret this one bit.” 

The smile that accompanied these words had his brother searching for an escape route.  Escape didn’t come.  Instead, he found Pa on the porch with his arms crossed.  That familiar look on his face warned them they were heading for trouble.

“Oh, hi, Pa,” Hoss uttered with a feeble smile.

“Aren’t you two a bit old for snowball fights?”

Joe scrambled up and brushed off the snow before standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Hoss.  When dealing with Pa, brothers stuck together.  He gave him a brilliant smile.  “We’re almost through clearing the snow to the barn.  Look … see?” 

With his best cherubic look on his face, Hoss nodded in agreement and asked,  “How’s Adam?”

Little Joe glanced at Hoss with approval.  Mentioning older brother was the perfect distraction.  Adam had been laid up for two weeks with a chest infection.  Today was to be his first day out of bed. 

“Good.  His chest is still clear, and he’s downstairs.  So you two hurry and finish.”

“Anything you say, Pa,” came the united reply.

Hoss set down his shovel and announced, “I’m done.  You coming?”

“I’ve just gotta tidy a couple of things in the barn.”

“Don’t be too long.  Hop Sings been baking those special Christmas cookies all morning.”

“Don’t you eat them all!” Joe called and turned, racing to the barn like a kid again. 

Joe loved Christmas, and he wasn’t too old to admit it.  Everything about the season excited him.  He enjoyed the anticipation of what he was to receive and the expression on his family’s faces when they opened his gifts.  He reveled in the family traditions he’d taken part in ever since he could remember.  Bringing home and decorating the tree, nailing the socks over the fireplace, and tonight, they’ll all be listening to Pa read the Christmas story.  The only difference?  He’d settled down to hear it with a glass of brandy rather than a mug of hot chocolate. 

He especially enjoyed the tradition of their annual Christmas party, which had been held two nights ago.  He leaned on the rake and bit the corner of one lip, letting the memory return.

     He welcomed their friends and neighbors and heard their ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ when they saw the great room transformed.  Conifer boughs decorated with colorful paper bells and stars hung from the mantle, rafters, and banisters.  Thinking ahead, Joe had made sure to entwine mistletoe within their spiky fronds in strategic positions.  The Christmas tree stood decked out in finery, like a princess attending her first ball.  Strung with popcorn and shiny ornaments, it shone from the glow of the candles.  The smell of the pine mixed with the heady fragrance of the rum from Pa’s best punch, which sat on the table groaning under the food Hop Sing had spent the last three days preparing. 

     The room filled to bursting point, and Joe soon shed his jacket in the heat.  Conversation and laughter rang in the air.  They’d pushed back the furniture to allow space for dancing, and the thuds from the boots pounding on the wood floor almost drowned out the musicians.  Old Jake gave him a wink every time they were about to play a waltz, and Joe swooped in on another pretty girl.  He encircled her slim waist with his arm, holding her close while they spun around the floor before making good use of his mistletoe.  He didn’t need the punch for the intoxication of the event to capture him.

What a party it had been.  But, the idea of those cookies disappearing off the plate brought him back to now and powered Joe through his chores. 

The creek of the barn door caught his attention.  He turned to look.  No one was there.  He stood and watched for a moment before dismissing it with a shrug.

Joe picked up the bridle.  The supple leather ran through his fingers only to stop when they came across the piece of encrusted dirt he’d missed.  He grabbed a cloth.  The rough material worked at the clump until it crumbled away to dust. 

Satisfied, he went to hang it on the peg when the noise brought his head back around.  His eyes narrowed when they rested on the wooden doors that hung motionless.  There was no mistake.  He’d heard something this time.  Staring, he scoured the gap for a movement, a shadow, something to reveal someone was lurking.  He smiled.  Was it Hoss trying to sneak up on him? 

The vision of his brother relaxing on the settee, stretched out to warm his toes on the fire, popped into his mind.  Who was he kidding?  Once settled, nothing could move that Missouri Mule.  He’d be chowing down on Hop Sing’s cookies for sure.  Breathing in, he could almost smell those baked circles of deliciousness, the sharp tang of ginger, the spicy comfort of cinnamon, and the sweet enticement of molasses.  The thought made his mouth water and drove everything else from his mind.  

Joe hung the bridle on its hook.  Glanced about to give the barn one last check, then gave Cooch’s rump a triumphant pat when he headed past him out the door.

“Don’t move, and keep your hands where I can see them.”  Finding the business end of a gun pointing straight at his chest, Joe did as he was told.  “Back up.”

The man wore rough work clothes and a shabby coat.  His muffler wound around his face hid his features.  He’d pulled his hat well down for good measure, but that voice was familiar.  Joe frowned in the effort to place it.

“What do you want?”

“We’re going to the house, and you’re gonna do exactly what I say.  Y’hear?”

Joe’s gaze fixed on the only visible part of the man’s face, his eyes.  It couldn’t be!  Bob Rickles was one of the miners at the Ophir Mine when Adam got buried in a cave-in.  He’d worked alongside Hoss to dig Adam out after everyone else had given up.  Pa had made sure to meet all the men, and Joe had been right beside him to thank them.  But whether right or wrong, Joe decided now wasn’t the time to speak out.

“Whatever you say.”

*****

The wall of hot air hit Joe when they burst into the house.  Frigid wind swept through the door past them, but that wasn’t what froze the looks of horror on his family’s faces.  It was the muzzle of the pistol pressed against Joe’s chin.

“Don’t move!”

It was a needless instruction.  Once on their feet, none of them intended moving.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Pa demanded.

“Hand over your money.”

Hoss stiffened.  His fists curled into tight balls.  “Mister.  You don’t wanna be doing this.”

Terrified his brother would try something and get himself killed, Joe almost gasped with relief when Pa put his hand on Hoss’s shoulder.

“That’s right.  You do like I tell you, and nobody gets hurt.”

Pa gestured and said, “The money’s in the desk.”

Joe’s captor dragged him back so he could view the office.  “Get it.”

His father moved with caution.  Cold sweat trickled down the man’s face onto Joe’s cheek, stress tightening the muscles in the arm wrapped around his neck.

The tin box clattered on the desk.  Pa grabbed the bundle of notes and moved back, proffering the money.  “Here.”

“How much is that?”

“Three hundred dollars.”

“What?  I heard you Cartwright’s had thousands.”

Pa’s hand dropped a fraction in dismay.  “I don’t keep that kind of money on the ranch.  This is all I have.”

There was a beat when everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath.  Then, the arm around Joe’s neck jerked. 

“Take it.”

Pa edged forward, allowing Joe to reach.  He did his best to return the reassuring smile his father gave him.

“What shall I do with it?”

“Put it in my pocket.”

Joe fumbled around to slide the money inside.  His fingers touched something else – a small wooden animal. 

His captor snapped, “Hurry up.”

Pulling out his hand, they backed toward the door.

“We’re leaving.”

Shock surged through his family.

“No!  Wait.  I don’t care about the money.  You can have the money.  I give it to you.  Just don’t take my son.  I promise we won’t come after you.  Just leave him here.” 

Joe dared not move.  Would Pa’s heartfelt words work?  The man’s muscles eased.  Joe’s gaze shot to meet Pa’s, excitement growing in his chest.  Then hope died. 

“More cookies!”

The thief whirled to face Hop Sing, who appeared from the kitchen.  His arm tensed and cut off Joe’s windpipe.  The muzzle against his skin twitched.  Joe’s heart leaped to his throat.  This guy was wound so tight he’d pull the trigger by accident.

“It’s only my cook!”

The fear in Pa’s voice halted Hop Sing and pacified Joe’s captor.  Although allowed to breathe again, Joe knew his chance of release had passed. 

“We’re going.  I’ll let him go soon as I’m clear.”

“No, please.  I meant what I said.”

“I ain’t taking chances.  The kid’s coming.”

Pa’s face darkened as he pulled up to his full height.  “All right, but you get one thing straight.  You harm my son, and I’ll find you.  There won’t be any rock small enough on this earth for you to crawl under where I won’t find you.  And, God help me, when I do, I’ll kill you.”

Joe knew Pa would never kill a man in cold blood, but, damn, at that moment, he believed it.

When they backed again, Joe glanced at Hop Sing to see his stricken expression.  His heart went out to the man.   No way was he leaving his friend thinking all this was his fault.  He mustered up a smile and a wink. 

“You come after us.  I’ll kill him, y’hear?”

On those parting words, they left the house.  Pa’s gaze stayed with him until the last second.  This was turning into one hell of a Christmas.

*****

Riding two-up, Joe found himself crushed into the saddle horn in a position that went beyond uncomfortable.

Life could sure turn on a dime.  Yesterday had been the best of days. He’d been enjoying a sleigh ride with his girl.  That morning had been just as beautiful. 

     Turned to crystal by the sun, the snow dusting the trees sparkled.  The air was heavy with the scent of wood and pine needles.  So sharp you could almost taste it.  The sleigh cut a line through the pristine snow.  As it whooshed along, the air rushed past, turning their cheeks rosy red.  Joe didn’t mind the chill since Milly cuddled closer, allowing him to steal some kisses.  The blanket spread over their knees hid her hands, and they roamed places they wouldn’t normally dare go.  Joe had to work at focusing on his driving.  Pulling up to admire the view, he tied off the reins and gathered Milly into his arms.  Now, he’d make good use of his free hands-

The sharp jab of the gun muzzle in his back shattered his reverie.

“I’ve gotta rest this old nag.  He ain’t used to carrying two.”

Covered by his captor’s gun, Joe dismounted and moved to a handy rock to seat himself.  The fresh pile of snow provided a cushion between him and the granite.  He perched himself with care, keeping his coat between him and his pants.  The last thing he needed was a wet butt during the long walk home.  Joe turned up his collar and waited for the other man to climb down.  Not that he was about to try anything.  Three hundred dollars wasn’t worth risking his life over.  But this was his chance to do some talking.  Bob wasn’t a bad guy.  He’d taken a wrong turn, that’s all.

“Why’d you do it?”

“Huh?”

“Rob us.  Why?”

“What do you care?”

“Guess I wonder what makes a family man take to thieving.”

“What makes you think I have a family?”

“That toy animal in your pocket.”

Bob’s hand closed around his coat where the wooden object nestled.

“I got tired of watching my kids go hungry.  That’s why.”

“Why the heck didn’t you tell us that?  My pa’s never turned away a hungry man.”

“Easy ain’t it, for rich folks to hand out charity.”

“A helping hand ain’t charity.”

“Some of us won’t be beholden.”

“You’d rather steal than accept a little help?”

“I’ve got some pride left!”

“Pride!  C’mon, Bob, that makes no sense.”

“You know me?”

Shit! 

Bob jumped up and stared at Joe.  “You know me?” he demanded again.

“Yeah.  I know you, and I know you’re a decent man.”

The hand that yanked down his scarf shook, and his voice filled with panic.   “This weren’t supposed to happen.  You weren’t supposed … I can’t let you tell the sheriff.  Mary and my kids would find out … ”  The light in Bob’s eyes hardened and turned to stone-cold murder.  “I can’t have you telling.”

Now he’d done it.  They’d gone beyond the theft of three hundred dollars.  This was about a man keeping the respect of his family, and Joe stood between him and that goal.  He doubted promising to keep his mouth shut would make much difference. Hands raised to his side Joe inched upright.  The gun leveled at him wasn’t one of the new Colts like his, but an old Smith and Wesson.  Big, clumsy, and inaccurate.  Jumping aside would likely get him shot as standing still. 

“I was wrong about you.  What does it take to turn a man from thief to murderer?”

“You gotta understand.  I don’t wanna shoot you, but you ain’t given me no choice.”

“You be sure and remember that when you kiss your kids goodnight.”

Joe stared into the soul of his would-be murderer.  The breath in his throat slowed as the air around him crystallized.  Nothing moved while he waited for the finger on that trigger to squeeze and send death to greet him.

*****

His father turned first.  When he saw them come around the barn, he cried out his name before leading the stampede toward them.

Joe wasn’t surprised to find his family about to mount up, although he wondered how Adam had persuaded Pa to let him come too.  He slipped from Bob’s horse and found himself grabbed and pulled into his father’s arms.

“You all right, boy?”

“Yeah, Pa, I’m fine.”

On Bob in an instant, Hoss yanked him from his saddle and shook him like a freshly plucked turkey. “Bob Rickles!  You did this?  Why you no good- ”

Joe pushed Hoss back.  “Don’t!  Bob brought me back.” 

Puzzled, his brother let go. Bob hung his head and looked shamefaced at Ben.  “It’s true, Mr. Cartwright.  I had to come back.  What I did was wrong, real wrong.”

Before his father could reply, Joe jumped in, “Pa.  Bob’s been telling me what a tough time the miners are having.  The men not installing that new square-set timbering are out of work.”

“But … Adam, didn’t you say they were to be paid while that was done?”

“That was the idea.”

Joe shook his head.  “It’s taken longer than expected.  The owners got together and agreed they couldn’t afford to pay men for sitting around.”

Bob carried on the story, “Most of us haven’t had a wage for over three months.  We can’t buy food.  There are no critters left to catch.  Families are at the end of their rope living off roots they grub up.  I’m sorry, Mr. Cartwright.  I don’t know what came over me when I decided to rob you.  The thought of my family starving at Christmas was too much.  But I’m shamed at how close I came to doing something terrible.”  The man held out the money he’d stolen.  “If you want to turn me over to the sheriff, I’ll understand.”

“What do you think, Pa?  Can we forgive and forget?”

“He broke into my home and took you at gunpoint!  You expect me to forget about that?”

Omitting any mention of Bob’s intention to shoot him (Pa had his limits), Joe pleaded, “He was desperate.”  Then he played his trump card.  “I know that’s no excuse.  But it’s Christmas.”

Pa cut him a look.  Joe basked him with a persuasive smile, crossed his fingers, and gave his father time to take a breath.

“You say your family has no food?”

“Yes, Sir.  But Joe’s right.  I know that ain’t no excuse for what I did.”

“And there are other families in the same position?”

“Yes.”

The hope in Joe’s heart bloomed.  His crossed fingers tightened.

“Put the money back in your pocket.  See to it, everyone has food on their tables this Christmas.”

“But… ”

“Say you won it in a poker game.  Just make sure everyone gets food.” 

Bob’s hand trembled when he folded the notes.  “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Do as I ask.  That will be thanks enough.”

“You don’t have to worry.  I won’t let you down.”

Climbing back on his ancient horse, Bob touched his hat and rode out. Behind him, the four Cartwrights came together. 

Joe smiled when his father’s arm wrapped around him.  “Thanks, Pa.”

“Every man deserves a second chance, and if you can’t give him that at Christmas, when can you?”

Joe slipped his arm onto Pa’s shoulder.  His father was a man among men. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside and tell Hop Sing you’re all right.”

“I hope there are some of those cookies left.”

Hoss ruffled his hair.  “If there ain’t, I reckon Hop Sing will cook you up a fresh batch special.”

Joe laughed and ducked away only to be pulled back into his bear-like grip.  Sandwiched between Pa and Hoss, they followed Adam toward their home.  The warmth of the fire awaited them.  But nothing warmed Joe’s heart more than the generosity and love of his family.  It was going to be a great Christmas.

  The End 

December 2021

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