Walking down the stairs favoring his bandaged ankle, Ben wondered where his sons were. He expected to see them around the tree with Joe gazing longingly at the presents. He knew his youngest would have gotten up earlier than anyone for the only time that year. Next to him would be Hoss with a cup of hot cider and a plate of cookies enjoying a pre-breakfast treat that Hop Sing would only allow on a special day like this. Sipping a cup of coffee, Adam would likely be sitting with a book and a bemused expression. Instead, none were there until he reached the bottom of the stairs. Suddenly, Joe stuck his head in the door and yelled for him to come outside quickly.
Two weeks ago a spooked carriage horse had run Ben off the street in town. He had been forced to leap out of the way and severely sprained his ankle. Basically housebound since then and out of his regular routine, Ben had been out of sorts for many days. Whether it was his foul mood or just being laid up, somehow he had neglected to send the usual invitations for Christmas dinner to friends. This had only served to increase his grouchiness.
Ben limped toward the front door, but then stopped to peer out the window behind his desk. He was certain there was snow on the ground from the bright light shining in. Yet, he was not prepared to see a foot of snow on the ground when he threw the door open. At that precise moment a huge snowball fight commenced. There was a flurry of ranch hands racing about the yard pelting each other with snowballs. Adam, Hoss, and Joe enthusiastically joined in the fray.
Joe took a second to glance at his father and was rewarded with a snowball square in the back.
"Isn't it great, Pa! Just in time for Christmas!"
Ben stood with a wide grin. It felt good to smile. He chuckled until he was forced to dodge an errant snowball.
"Hey! Watch it!" He bellowed. "No shooting an injured, unarmed man!"
"Sorry, Mr. C." The culprit shouted over the commotion.
Eventually the action died down with the players out of breath and covered in white powder. Smokey trudged over to the porch and produced a small pouch from his pocket.
"What's this?" Ben asked.
"Just a little somethin' from me and the boys, Mr. Cartwright. Want ya ta know that we 'preciate the extra pay ya always give us at Christmas."
"You're welcome, Smokey."
Ben peeked into the bag. He brought a pinch of the dark substance up to his nose and gave it a sniff.
"My favorite tobacco. I thank you."
He raised the pouch to the other ranch hands that were looking on. It truly warmed Ben's heart that the hands had remembered him.
"We appreciate your steady, good work, don't we, boys." Ben nodded to his sons. "Thanks, I will enjoy some of this a little later today."
Ben offered Smokey his hand in gratitude. Adam ambled to the porch with his left hand tucked surreptitiously behind his back and gave Smokey his right hand as well. Then Adam uncharacteristically threw his arm around his father's shoulder.
"Brings back memories of years ago, doesn't it, Pa? It's been a long time since Hoss, Joe and I could have a snowball fight like this here at the house."
Ben sighed. "Yes, many years."
Not much for sentimentality, Adam dropped his arm and quickly jumped from the porch. "One, two, three!" He shouted.
Suddenly three snowballs exploded on Ben's chest spraying snow all over him. His jaw dropped and he glared at his mischievous, grown sons. The ranch hands erupted with cheers and applause.
"Merry Christmas, Pa!" Adam, Hoss, and Joe chorused.
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Cartwright!" The ranch hands added.
Ben waved to his ranch hands. "Merry Christmas!"
As Adam, Hoss, and Joe made their way toward the door, Ben groused in mock annoyance.
"Merry Christmas, you hooligans. Now let's get inside. We all need to get dried out and get something hot to drink. Maybe I should go retrieve some of the gifts from under the tree."
Three heads turned and were met by Ben's arched brow and scowl. As touchy as their father had been the past week, they were not sure whether to take him seriously. Ben held the ruse for only a moment, then laughed and slapped Hoss and Joe on the back.
Within minutes, Hop Sing supplied them all with steaming cups of hot, spiced cider. The boys stood by the fireplace to get warmed up and sipped their drinks.
Ben had settled himself in his chair and was musing into the cup that he cradled in his large hands. "Well as soon as you three decide you're thawed out, you can light the candles on the tree."
The three younger Cartwrights drained their cups and set to work lighting the many candles on the twelve-foot pine. When their task was complete, Hoss lumbered to the shelf to fetch the Bible while Adam went for his guitar that was propped against the chair by the stairway. Once the boys were seated, Adam gently strummed his guitar and led them in the melodious strains of "Silent Night."
Before opening the Bible, Ben felt the need to say something. His brow creased. "Boys, I just want to say I'm sorry for putting such a damper on the Christmas spirit around here this year. And it's my fault that no invitations were given out for today. Holidays are meant to be shared with family AND friends."
His sons dropped their heads and then Adam looked up and spoke. "Well, Pa, we had hoped to surprise you, but I think that the snow has prevented our plans from working out."
"Yeah, Pa, we invited Roy and Doc Martin ta join us today, but now it looks like you're stuck with just us after all." Hoss added.
Ben eyes grew soft. "First of all, I'm never stuck with any of you boys. I'm very thankful to have all of you here to celebrate Christmas. And secondly, I'm grateful to you for trying to set things right and do what I should have done."
"Guess it'll be like old times. I can race around and act crazy if it'll make you feel better, Pa!" Joe winked at his brothers."
Ben frowned momentarily and then burst out laughing. "Yes, we did have some lively Christmases when you were younger." Ben sighed and lifted the Bible toward his sons. "Shall we begin?"
As the boys listened to their father read the Christmas story from the Book of Luke, each examined him closely. His wonderful voice sounded almost the same as in years past, maybe just slightly deeper. The words of the age-old story flowed seamlessly from Ben's lips in poetic fashion. In his mind, Adam recited the words, having heard the scripture for so many years.
"And the shepherds returned, glorifying and …" Ben paused and they all looked toward the door when they heard sleigh bells.
Joe jumped up and threw open the front door. Adam and Hoss were soon by his side on the porch with mouths agape. A beautiful, matched pair of black Friesian horses snorted clouds of steam; their stomping hooves sent puffs of snow into the air. They were harnessed to a magnificently ornate red sleigh that was covered with delicate gold filigree. Two heavily bundled men sat in the shiny leather front seat and a woman was shrouded in blankets in the back seat.
By the time Ben had hobbled to the doorway, Doc Martin was disembarking from the sleigh. "Paul! What on earth?"
"Ben…boys, Merry Christmas to you. Sorry to interrupt your holiday plans, but I'm afraid we are going to need to impose on you." Dr. Martin motioned to the man still seated in the sleigh. "You remember Mr. Tipton. This poor woman and her child were stranded along the road. They could use some time by a warm fire and a hot meal."
The Cartwrights looked more closely at the woman. She threw back the blankets to reveal a baby in her arms.
"Here, ma'am, let me have your little one." Hoss offered.
The woman tentatively passed her child to Hoss. He scooped up the child and held it close. Adam held out his hand to the shivering mother to help her down from the sleigh.
Ben motioned toward the door. "Let's get everyone inside
where it's warm."
Once inside, the brothers brought the woman and the child near the fireplace to get warm while Ben pulled Dr. Martin and Mr. Tipton aside to get the full story of what had transpired.
"Tipton and I were headed here to the Ponderosa. I had been on a call to deliver his daughter-in-law's baby. John said he hadn't had his sleigh out in years and offered to bring me here. Anyway, we found Mrs. Danvers and her baby standing by the road. She had apparently left her place this morning traveling over a mile to get to road. Her husband left a week ago to do some hunting because they had no meat. He was due back three days ago, but yesterday she ran out of food. She was just desperately hoping against hope that someone would be on the road in this weather. I know it's an imposition, but I knew you would have plenty of food and a room for her and the baby."
Ben had been watching the woman tenderly cuddling her daughter. His eyes grew soft with empathy. "They're not an imposition at all, Paul. You know our door is always open to those in need. Poor woman. No wonder she looks so tired and sad…Hop Sing should have dinner ready shortly."
Mr. Tipton declined Ben's invitation to stay for Christmas dinner since the trip to the ranch had taken longer than expected and his Christmas celebration at home would be an especially happy one with the recent arrival of his grandson.
Though Hop Sing's Christmas feast was outstanding, and Ben and his sons heartily encouraged Mrs. Danvers to eat her fill, it was difficult for her to do so. She was filled with worry for the welfare of her husband. She did express her heart-felt gratitude to Ben and the boys for their generosity. Having Dr. Martin's presence at the table helped the conversation to be less awkward. Ben and the doctor reminisced about old times. Their stories helped to distract Mrs. Danvers from her worries for a time.
After the meal, Mrs. Danvers, little Abigail and Dr. Martin retired early to the guest rooms so that Ben and the boys could open their gifts. The situation with Mrs. Danvers made them quiet and thoughtful. Even Joe kept his usual joking in check. Their hearts were full, thankful for their many blessings. Out of that gratitude they formulated a plan to search for Mr. Danvers just as soon as the weather broke.
After the boys went on up to bed, Ben sat smoking his pipe and enjoying some of the new tobacco he had been given. Staring into the fire, he was soon lost in his thoughts. The cries of the baby broke into his reverie. Moments later, Mrs. Danvers appeared on the stairs carrying little Abigail. She was surprised to see someone in the livingroom.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize anyone was still up." Abigail fussed mildly as she spoke.
Ben smiled warmly. "No need to apologize. Please come join me."
Mrs. Danvers came down and took a seat on the settee. "I think she's just upset being away from home and all." She looked at her child fretfully.
"You must be exhausted. Why don't you let me hold her for a bit. I was pretty good years ago at getting my sons to calm down and go to sleep." The woman eyed him strangely and Ben answered the question that she was hesitant to ask. "I had to raise my older two on my own and my third son from the time he was five."
"I'm very sorry." Mrs. Danvers dropped her head, thinking that she might soon find herself in the same situation. Abigail continued to squirm and complain in her mother's arms.
Ben reached out for the baby. "Truly, I would love to hold Abigail."
The woman bit her lip, however Ben's comforting smile allowed her to trust that he could handle her child.
With Abigail securely in his arms, Ben rose and began gently rocking the six month old back and forth, despite his gimpy ankle.
Mrs. Danvers gave him a weary smile. "Looks like you still have the touch."
"Certain things you just don't forget. Please, cover yourself with the throw and try to get some rest."
Mrs. Danvers nodded. She watched in relief as Ben spoke sweet comforting words to her child. Within minutes, both mother and child were asleep.
Ben sat down carefully in his chair trying his best not to wake the sleeping child in his arms. He reveled in the sounds of the baby's quiet breathing and the way she had snuggled into his chest. He glanced up at the angel that sat atop the Christmas tree. His thoughts went to the child that was the reason for this day of celebration. It had been a very different Christmas for him and his family. He thanked the Lord that he and his boys had been privileged to be instruments of peace and comfort and he prayed for Mrs. Danvers and Abigail and that Mr. Danvers would be found safe and sound. After his sullen attitude of the past few weeks, being able to help the Danvers family had been just what his heart needed to bring him into the true spirit of Christmas.
Ben slid down in his chair to allow Abigail a more pleasant sleeping position. He tenderly placed a light kiss in the baby's fine brown hair. As he gently rested his chin on her head, the words of the carol they had sung earlier in the day came to mind.
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin, mother and child
Holy infant, so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace