A Debt of Honour
He knew it would be almost another two hours until the dawn as Ben slowly made his way down into the empty room. He felt the deep chill in the air and knew that the morning would be arriving far sooner than he was ready for. The fire had been carefully banked the night before and he pulled a couple of logs from the woodbox and pushed them into the coals. It didn't take long for the dried wood to catch and soon flames began to illuminate the darkened room.
Ben pulled his robe around his chest again and slid into his favourite chair, all the while staring into the fire as he tried desperately to calm his thoughts. It was the dawn of a day he had been quietly dreading for weeks. Deep in his secret thoughts, he had prayed for a miracle for this day. After all, it was supposed to be the day for miracles. If any day could be deemed that then surely Christmas Day could. It was supposed to be a day of festivity and celebration, but he didn't think he could muster the energy to care, let alone celebrate anything.
In spite of himself, Ben barely managed to look up towards the ponderosa pine that graced the room and he swallowed a silent sob as he looked at the decorations adorning it. If it weren't for Hoss, the tree would not have even been cut down. None of them had any kind of festive spirit and he had balked at the idea of trying to pretend they did. But somehow, Hoss had convinced them otherwise and he and his older brother had trudged out into the frigid morning a few days earlier and made their selection before dragging the tree home again. Each one of them had made a concerted effort to try, more for each other than for themselves, but they had all known they could not sustain it.
Christmas had always been Little Joe's favourite day of the year, even ahead of his own birthday. The angel that topped the tree had been his mother's and he had often remarked how it made her feel just a little closer when he looked at it. Ben felt the warmth of tears trail down his cheeks as he stared at the porcelain angel. His son was now with his mother and had no need of the delicate angel to feel close to her. As much as he had tried to deny it, Ben finally knew he had succumbed to the truth. Not that he was ready to admit that to his other two sons yet, but he knew his youngest son would never grow beyond his seventeenth year. His eighteenth birthday had passed quietly as the broken family tried to keep up hope. But that hope was done. Instead, his son would remain forever caught in that moment between child and man, beyond the reaches of time and age. The cheeky grin and wild laugh would only live on in their collective memories.
The broken-hearted father felt himself beginning to tremble as he recalled the last words he had spoken to his son. It had been a jest about behaving himself as he waved off the stage that carried all three of his sons to Sacramento. Why couldn't he have said something else? Something that told his boy how much he loved him. Or how proud he was of the man he was becoming. Instead he had chastised him in front of his older brothers. It was meant to be loving, but in the cold pre-dawn darkness, he saw it for what it really was. It was that constant reminder that his son was not yet seen as grown up or responsible. It was the family attitude that had pushed his son to assert himself and insist he be allowed to go to Sacramento too. It was Joe's reminder that he had successfully delivered on his word and broken a string of horses for their latest army contract that had forced the issue and Ben recalled as his son had argued passionately that he could help with both the timber and army negotiations. In the end, he had relented and agreed that at the least, Joe could learn a lot from the experience. How he wished he had not given in to Joe's arguments. Even if it meant his son stayed angry at him, it would be better than having lost his boy altogether.
Ben looked up and glanced across at his desk. An image of his feistiest son arose in his memory. Joe had stood across from that same desk, hands on his hips and his chin jutted out as he argued his case. Once again, Ben dropped his head into his hands as he remembered Joe's plea to be treated as a man. If only he had stood his ground. If he had not agreed, then his son would be safely asleep upstairs with his brothers. He would soon be bounding down those stairs, eager to see what Hop Sing had made for their festive breakfast and joking with Hoss and Adam about what they had stashed under the tree for him. Instead, his son's body lay somewhere unknown. He shook his head as once again ugly images filled his thoughts of wild animals and decaying corpses. At first, he had tried to take some comfort from knowing his son would be with his mother, but there was no comfort for the grieving father as yet another bleak dawn arrived unwanted.
Hop Sing silently made his way across the room and placed a tray with coffee and a cup onto the table. Ben glanced up and he saw his faithful friend's face. The man who had helped raise his son was as broken as he was. He barely managed a thank you before turning back towards the fire. There were still no answers there about how he was supposed to face the coming day.
Or the next.
Or any of the days after.