Cactus and Sand
By ImpalaGal67
Description: Blue gets a letter from home.
Author's Note: An AU story based on the episode Generation. What if Blue left at the end of the episode.
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. Just playing with them.
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He stared at the envelope in his hands. It was easier and faster to send a telegram but there was a romanticism in sending letters the love and effort it took to pen all your feelings onto a paper and the long journey that it took to get it to where it needed to be, and beyond that this letter was special. The writing was unmistakable.
"Blue Cannon" was painstakingly written across the front in carefully controlled and slightly childish writing. Billy Blue smiled his sky blue eyes shining with emotion. His thoughts taking him back three long years and so many miles from here.
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Uncle Buck was not stupid, especially in Blue's eyes. He knew all the smartest and most important things about life and ranch work and people and he was the best story teller. Even as a kid, Blue knew that if had a problem Buck could always find a way to fix it.
There was one thing that troubled Blue. It was in the way his uncle would always ask him, "Wha'cha reading?" but never read any of the books that his little nephew offered him. It was in the way he held a newspaper but only ever seemed to be interested in the pictures. No one ever really talked about it. There was seldom free time on a ranch like the High Chaparral, but one day Blue had come in early from fence mending. The ranch hands sitting around the bunkhouse passing around a newspaper talking about the articles.
Ebenezer's paper had been a big hit with the locals.
Blue plopped down next to his uncle and gave him a friendly shove nearly knocking him off the bench. Not to be outdone by his nephew, Buck jammed his elbow into Blue's stomach making him woosh in surprise and laughed. As they listed to Reno read the "newest happening back east." Blue glanced around at the guys before his eyes came back to his uncle and didn't miss the look on his uncle's face before Buck quickly schooled his features and gave his nephew a small smile.
He didn't say anything that night or the next day or the day after. It was on the third day that he managed to catch his uncle alone.
"You know," he started hesitantly not making eye contact as they stood side by side while their horses drank from the watering hole. "I could teach you."
Buck snorted. His nephew teaching him? The young man at his side was still naïve in so many ways. "Teach me what?"
"To read," he said softly. He'd offered before, so many years ago, an eager six-year-old wanting to help the man he considered his best friend in the world, but the answer had always been the same, a resounding "no" without ever saying the word. "Aw, Blue, I'm too old to learn anything new" or "I like the way you read much better" or "It ain't that important, Blue boy." So many times that he'd finally stopped offering.
"Aw, Blue…"
"Come on, Uncle Buck," Blue quickly cut him off. This was just a bit frustrating. He ran a hand through his blond, sweat moistened hair. "It ain't that hard to learn."
"Blue…"
"We could go as slow as you want," and he saw that "no" coming the second his uncle looked pleadingly up at the clouds.
"It's the same concept as tracking," Blue said hopefully and brown eyes looked his way with a "I really doubt that" expression.
"Ok. Look… You know how before you can learn how to track, you first have to memorize the different tracks that animals or people or things leave in the ground. That's how it is with reading. You memorized the different letters and the sounds they make and then when you put them together you get words and sentences and stories."
Buck looked at the ground for a long moment and Blue held his breath. At least he hadn't said no, not yet anyway.
Truth be told, Buck was tired of having to eavesdrop on other people reading papers and posters to find out what was going on. He saw people write their names in big, scrawled fancy letters and always felt a tinge of jealousy. He had to push down on his embarrassment when he signed his name with an "X," but he could fight and ride and drink with the best of 'em, and he'd helped raise a boy that he was damn proud of and that was something. And this was Blue's way of trying to give back to him a little of what he'd been given. So, Buck nodded his head and quietly said, "Ok."
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He hadn't left home under the best of circumstances and after three years, he wondered if he'd really be able to call it home. Yes, he was probably missed but most likely he didn't belong there anymore.
This was the first form of communication that he'd gotten from home. He'd sent telegrams to his father several times that first year. There was never a response but it was a big ranch. There was a lot of work to do or maybe the wires were down, he told himself. But after the fifth un-responded telegram he'd realized that maybe things had changed. And as much as he pretended it didn't hurt. Damn! It did.
He stared at the letter in front of him either a lifeline back home or a farewell note from his uncle and he half-considered throwing it in the trash, but he opened it because all things aside. It wasn't just his uncle, it was his childhood best friend, it was his mentor, it was his second dad.
Blue opened the letter.
Blue Boy,
Things is bizy here at the ranch. Victoria sez to say hi. I miss you to. So you know that you can come home when you ain't so bizy. Take care of yourself.
Uncle Buck
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Try to leave a light on when I'm gone, something I rely on to get home, one I can feel at night, a naked light, a fire to keep me warm.~ Light On by David cook