BOSTON

Return to Ithaca

(Part 3)

"Hm."

Ben leaned his shoulders against the wall and shifted with poorly concealed impatience.

"Mm hm…"

He folded his arms over his chest and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything.

"Well…"

His eyes snagged Abel's, who rolled his expressively in response. Ben almost smiled.

"Hm," the doctor repeated. He returned to his bag and rooted around inside.

Ben lost his battle with forbearance and cleared his throat in an explosive cough. "Well, doctor…?"

The doctor found a bottle he liked and pulled it from the bag. "Well, Mr. Cartwright," he countered pleasantly.

Good God, he's as bad as Paul, thought Ben sourly.

"I think things are looking much better here."

"How much better?" He rubbed a hand over his mouth, fought to produce a civil smile. "Forgive me, but I've had a very long, difficult journey, and I've worried every step of the way. What can you tell me? Will he be all right?"

"Well, that's hard to say."

Ben fought the urge to shake him. Abel was right - politician.

"I think he's beaten the typhoid - it's just a matter now of avoiding any complications. He'll need a careful, attentive convalescence - in his current state he's vulnerable to a number of things. Of course I know he has a very good nurse," he smiled at Mrs. Longworth.

"How long?" Ben knew he was being rude, but he couldn't help himself.

The doctor didn't seem to notice. "Hard to say - depends on him. He been awake?"

"Sort of. He hasn't spoken, but he opened his eyes. Half opened them, anyway."

"Well, that's something. Probably hasn't got the strength for more yet." He indicated the bottle in his hand. "This tonic will help build him up - and I'll give Mrs. Longworth some dietary instructions. Let him sleep as much as he likes, don't rush him. If his fever jumps let me know, but I think it's on its way down. " He looked genially from Ben to Abel. "You two might consider some sleep yourselves. And hire some help if you need it - no reason to wear yourselves out nursing him."

Ben wiped the palms of his hands on his trousers. "Doctor, I - I want to thank you - "

The doctor accepted the hand he offered and smiled puckishly. "Oh, don't thank me - I can only do so much. Mrs. Longworth did most of the work, the Captain did most of the worrying, and your son fought like a wolverine. It's a hard combination to beat. I'm glad your journey had a happy ending, Mr. Cartwright. When will you be heading back?"

Ben looked at Adam, shook his head. "I don't know yet. I want to see him on his feet, first…"

"Mm. Well, like I said, don't rush him. I'll stop in to check again tomorrow morning, but don't hesitate to send someone around for me if he seems worse."

"I'll see you to the door."

"That will be fine, Mrs. Longworth - I can write out those dietary instructions downstairs…"

Ben listened to the retreating voices, then let out his breath slowly.

"You know," Abel offered conversationally, "you're welcome to take my bed and get a real sleep."

"That's all right. I'd rather be in here. It's not like this is the first time Adam and I have shared a room."

"I'm sure that skinny little cot is very comfortable, too."

"It's fine. Besides, you're at least twenty years my senior! I hope you don't think that I'd let you sleep on it! And from what Mrs. Longworth tells me, you've barely left this room - time you got some real sleep of your own."

"Woman's a confounded blabbermouth. Suppose you'll be setting up alliances with her too, then you'll all gang up on me."

"I think she seems like a very sweet woman."

"Well, that shows something about your judgment, doesn't it?"

Ben sank down into the chair by the bed, one hand automatically reaching out to grip Adam's arm. "I need to send some telegrams, too - let Hoss know, and Hop Sing…"

Abel nodded, easing himself into the spindle backed chair. "Write them out and address them, and I'll give Timmy Bryant a coin or two to bring them around to the telegraph office."

Ben pushed himself from the chair, yawning, and rummaged around Adam's desk for paper and a pen. He opened a drawer and paused, staring. "What's this?" he asked after a moment, lifting out a pair of eye holes on a handle. "Looks like a mask of some kind."

"Hm? Oh, that?" Abel gestured casually. "Called a stereopticon. He does love his gadgets."

Ben looked through the eye holes from one side and then the other. "But what is it for?"

"It's for - there should be a box of pictures in there someplace - drop one in."

Ben found the box carefully nestled in a corner of the drawer and flipped up the lid. On top were two beautiful color sketches of the Roman Coliseum, side by side on a card. Curious, he fit the card into the wire rack in front of the eye holes and looked. "Well, I'll be. Look at that." The images had merged and the Coliseum leapt to life, as real as if it was standing before him in the distance. He reached for the next card, this one depicting the Sphinx, and tried it. "Amazing." He put that one back, inserting a view of the Parthenon instead. "Where on earth did he get it?"

"Won it in a wager of some kind, I think," then, at the look on Ben's face, "Oh, don't tell me I've gotten him into trouble now! I don't believe he makes a habit of it - sport, is all. And he probably couldn't resist that silly toy."

Ben glanced at the recumbent figure, chest rising and falling just barely, and the thundercloud growing on his brow diminished in spite of himself. "I'd be interested to know what he put up for collateral of his own, though," he finished more mildly.

"I didn't ask. A young man deserves some secrets of his own. And sometimes I think I'm better off not knowing everything."

Ben grunted in agreement, changing the card for a glimpse of Notre Dame before setting the stereopticon aside. He found the inkwell and pen and was about to continue his search for writing paper when his hand lighted on something else on the desktop. He picked it up and pulled it to its full length, squinting through the small end. "Doing some star gazing, is he?"

Abel opened one eye, nodded. "Mm hm…drags it up to the roof to look some nights. Don't think anybody's been up there since Meg or Elizabeth used to stand there and wave a handkerchief to me as the ship came in."

Ben turned the small telescope in his hands. "We used to do a lot of stargazing when he was small, especially nights we slept out - taught him to name all the constellations. Think it was a comfort to him to know that no matter where we went or how much things changed from one place to the next the stars were always the same."

Abel stretched out his legs. "Probably why he liked to do it here - same stars over the Ponderosa as over Boston."

Ben nodded. "Of course, I tried to explain to him that if he ever went to the Southern Hemisphere there would be a whole new set of stars, but I don't think he believed me for the longest time. Was sure I was pulling his leg. It was always so hard to get him to take my word for anything - just had to see for himself."

Abel snorted a laugh. "I know. Wrote me and asked me about it."

Ben replaced the telescope, looking indignant and amused. "Oh, fine - he'd take your word for it, but not mine!"

"Think he wanted a second opinion. Corroboration."

"Should have gone into law." He pulled open another drawer. "What on earth are these?"

Abel cracked both eyes open again to look. "You still looking for paper, or are you just plain snooping through his drawers?"

"Looking for paper," Ben answered quickly. Then, seeing Abel's sly smile, "Both. He's been away for nearly two years and I just…what did you say these were?"

Abel forced himself to sit up. "May find out some things you'd rather not know about. Those are those Chinese puzzles - you fool around with them to get them undone? No, I can't show you - don't have the patience myself, though they remind me a little of a sailor's knots. He'll show you when he's up to it - after you confess to him about going through his desk."

Ben poked at the puzzles curiously. "A father deserves to have some secrets of his own too," he answered primly. Abel's responding cackle made him glare. "I'd forgotten how annoying you can be."

"It'll all come back to you. You do this in his room at home?"

"Of course not. Wouldn't dream of it. This is different. It's not as if I'm - " he straightened suddenly as something caught his eye. "Where'd he get the guitar?"

Abel's amusement abruptly faded. "Oh. He - hm." He coughed.

Ben strode over to the instrument in the corner and picked it up to study it, but Abel's discomfort made him pause. "Not part of another wager was it?"

"No, no - " Abel shifted uncomfortably. "He - " He appeared to lose a brief struggle with himself. "I bought it for him," he finished sullenly. "Well, you said he played."

Ben nodded, smiling a little as he ran his hand over the bright wood. "I miss it," he confessed. "I'm glad he has one here. I knew he'd be feeling the lack but there was no way to carry it with him, and shipping it would be almost as expensive as buying a new one. What made you think of it?"

Abel harumphed. "Weren't you looking for paper?"

Ben raised his brows at his tone, but simply said, "I guess I was."

He pulled out the last desk drawer and saw a stack of writing paper resting on top. He picked it up and was about to slide the drawer back when he saw what the paper had been concealing. He sat back on his haunches and studied the clear glass bottle carefully stowed there and the tiny ship being meticulously crafted inside. He was about to draw the Captain's attention to it when he noticed a name painted in minute letters on the bow: The Wanderer. Captain Stoddard's last ship. If Adam were preparing a surprise for his grandfather then he would not be the one to spoil it. He tucked a few sheets of paper around the bottle and eased the drawer closed, thinking.

He unfolded his legs, spread out the paper on the desktop and noticed that he had left the stereopticon lying out. He couldn't resist one more peek at a picture - a beautiful view of the Swiss Alps this time. He sighed a little, fingering the contraption in his hand. That was his son - always wanting to get a clearer view - to see a little better, a little farther, a little differently. He was so deep in his own thoughts that he actually jumped when the bedroom door opened.

Mrs. Longworth stood in the doorway, carrying a small urn of hot water and a cup of shaving soap, a towel draped over her arm. She looked keenly from one to the other. "I'm going to clean Adam up now - why don't you gentlemen take a walk, and I'll have a nice lunch ready for you when you get back?"

Ben's brows twitched together. "No, I don't want to go anywhere."

Mrs. Longworth set her burdens on the table by the bed and smiled her serene smile. "Oh, I know you don't, but a walk will brighten you up, and if Adam wakes up I know you'll want to be awake and alert for him." She lowered her voice so that only he could hear. "And I'd appreciate it if you could get Abel out, Mr. Cartwright - he hasn't had any fresh air in I don't know how long."

Ben gazed at the dove grey eyes looking so earnestly into his. Despite their softness there was something - compelling - about them.

"Oh, leave 'em alone…" Abel's lazy voice drifted from his chair. "Can't you see he's busy with Adam's toys?"

Ben looked at the stereopticon still in his hand, a certain heaviness in his chest.

Adam's toys.

He put it gently back in its drawer. "I guess I could use a little fresh air at that," he said abruptly. He shoved the drawer closed.

Abel was right. He'd found out something he'd really rather not know about.

Served him right.

TBC