The late February skies had been gray over the past weeks and they had expected more of the same, but that morning dawned sharp and clear, the sun rising in a blaze of winter glory over the Ponderosa. Joe uttered a teary cackle at the brightness and slugged Jamie's shoulder as they exited the big house for the funeral.
"Guess we know what Pa thought of all them clouds, huh?"
Guess so.
Now the ceremony was over, and all the many friends and neighbors and wives and children had returned to the main yard to put on last minute touches and set out the funeral meal. The three brothers alone remained around the fresh-hewn headstone beneath that winter brilliance—four brothers, really, for Hoss was there as surely as the others, his own weathered stone a bulwark at their father's side in death as the man himself had been in life. Jamie suspected that Joe and Adam must be thinking something similar, for his brothers had been touching Hoss's stone every time they passed it—brief, quick pats and rubs of which he suspected they weren't even aware.
Yes, it was only right that they were all together here, on this of all days.
They shared a few memories as they framed Ben Cartwright's grave, one at each compass point—a few laughs, a few tears, a few rolled eyes and shrugs, all seasoned with a healthy dose of respect and love for this man who had been rock and guide to each of them. The air was thick not so much with grief but with the weary acceptance of a long life well-lived, a life which had been at last brought to its logical conclusion. Their pa had been ready, there at the end, to join his loved ones who had gone before. How could they wish otherwise for him?
"We should go."
It was Adam, of course—not that he was ready to leave this spot any more than Joe or Jamie, but he would be the first to think of the crowd awaiting them at home. They could have lost hours, the three of them, coats draped across the nearby grass and shirtsleeves rolled to their elbows despite the crisp February breeze that ruffled hair and reddened cheeks. Time stood still there for the sons of Ben Cartwright, and without that gentle reminder they might have stayed until the sun dipped down behind the western horizon and never even have noticed the day's passing.
"Yeah." Joe dragged a sigh from his depths. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Green eyes surveyed his father's grave, then turned on them both. "Anybody want to say anything else before we go?"
It had been there for hours—for days now—swirling just beneath the surface, and he knew suddenly it was time. Ben Cartwright had been the turning point in his life. Without the man's generosity, without his love, without his steady influence during that time of great upheaval in a young boy's life … No. He didn't want to think of it. Jamie stepped forward and laid a calloused hand on the chill stone. "Pa … God only knows what I'd be without you."
A sharp indrawn breath, and then suddenly Joe was there at his right, warm heavy arm wrapping around his shoulders. "God only knows what any of us would have been."
Adam was there too, encircling them both from Jamie's left. "Amen."
Amen indeed.
A/N: Jamie doesn't seem to exist in the list of character choices, poor guy ...
Hello all! I haven't disappeared entirely, no ... and sorry for the lengthy wait on my WIPs. But I am slowly picking up a little speed on the writing again. I am currently working on something for a challenge on Bonanza Brand (due July 31st). My plan is to hopefully (hopefully!) finish up 'The Depths of Dorcanis' after that, through August and maybe September, and then turn back to 'The Fine Art of Middle Management' and see if I can can help Hoss dig his way out of his 'misery of his own teenage construction' (as Iniga so rightly puts it ;-). Anyway, that's my current plan. At present. Stay tuned ... :-) And thanks as always for reading!