It had been a lovely evening of music at Piper's Opera House, however, Ben was feeling a bit guilty. His sons had missed the outstanding performance of a beautiful and talented operatic vocalist having left earlier in the day for Placerville to purchase some new stock. Ben lingered a while following the concert to converse with a number of friends and acquaintances and in the end was one of the last to leave. He paused to button his suit jacket as he stepped out of the warm hall into the night air. It was unusually chilly for October and later than he cared to make his way back to the Ponderosa alone; so Ben decided to take a room at the Palace Hotel for the night. He stopped in briefly at the Silver Dollar for a drink. As midnight approached, he bid his drinking partners goodnight. The heels of his dress boots echoed on the boardwalk as he made his way toward the hotel. He lurched forward when his long strides came to a sudden and abrupt halt. Ben was certain that he had felt someone slip an arm under his elbow. The scent of lavender filled his nostrils. HIs head jerked around in all directions, but there was no one, only the sound of raucous voices coming from the saloon across the street.
Ben tugged at his jacket sleeves and his shirt collar. "Whoa, Cartwright. You must be getting soft in your old age if you can't even manage a couple of shots of whiskey anymore."
Chuckling, he shook his head and continued on his way. At the hotel, he registered and received his key. Ben climbed the stairs and found his room. When he pushed back the door and stepped in, the fragrance of lavender was unmistakable.
The unexplained perceptions made him ill at ease, and yet, he was beyond ready for sleep.
He stripped down to his drawers and crawled into the inviting bed. Ben tossed back and forth several times, punched the pillow, and sniffed the air once more before settling into an acceptable position. He focused his thoughts on the lyrical strains of music from earlier in the evening and the sleep he desired soon came. Later, in the wee hours of the morning, he was startled from a sound sleep by an apparent dream. He woke to find himself naked, panting, and with the bed linens in total disarray. Ben felt a mix of panic and great physical relief. Once again, the room smelled of lavender.
"Jumpin' Jehosaphat!"
Ben turned up the lamp and thrashed about trying to find his drawers. He eventually located them on the floor near the bed and hastily pulled them on. Feeling exceedingly discomfited, he donned his shirt as well and buttoned it in a haphazard fashion. He dropped into the chair beside the wardrobe and let his head fall into his large hands as he tried to get his bearings.
Scraping back his disheveled white mane, he chastised himself. "If you need a woman this badly, you best be planning more business trips out of town!"
However, as bits and pieces of his dream came to mind, his breathing quickened once more. He envisioned a nude woman with flowing blond hair and an alluring figure straddling him. Her head was thrown back as she clutched his hands and moaned in delight. It had been years since he had dreamed of Inger. The image he was seeing was not her familiar and comforting form. This did nothing to calm his jangled nerves. Ben pressed the heels of his palms into his bleary eyes and whispered into the dim light.
"I'm not sure whether to be terrified or grateful."
His hands dropped to his lap when suddenly the scent of lavender filled the room. A violent shiver coursed through Ben Cartwright's warm body.