A Problem Shared

By Marion

Rating: PG

The Ponderosa and the Cartwrights are not mine (except for Annie, of course) Thank you to Mr. Dortort for allowing me to play on the Ponderosa for a little while. This story is purely for entertainment and is not intended to infringe on the rights of anyone else involved with Bonanza and Ponderosa.

The cool breeze woke me, not that I had been sleeping well. Neither Annie nor Adam had been particularly talkative all evening, and while that wasn't unusual for Adam, his expression led me to believe he had something serious on his mind. Silence was unusual for Annie, however, and I had to refrain from asking her if there was a problem. If something were troubling either of them, I would have to wait for them to come to me. In the meantime, all I could do was wonder, and if I am being honest, worry.

I climbed out of bed, grumbling as I stood. I certainly wouldn't get any sleep with that cold air blowing through my window. Just as I was about to close it, however, I heard the click of the front door and the sound of footsteps on the porch. I smiled. Would it be Adam or would it be Annie? Regardless, this was the best time to get them to talk. I pulled on my pants and boots and hurried out of my room and quietly made my way to the front door.

Annie was sitting on the bench near my window, her shawl wrapped tightly around her to ward off the autumn air. She looked up at my approach, smiled slightly and scooted to one side of the bench. I sat beside her and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. We sat in silence for several minutes. I had learned in the past two years that getting Annie to talk about what was bothering her could be as difficult as getting Adam to talk. In some ways, she was like each of my wives. Problems would often fester until I asked the wrong question or said the wrong thing and then the explosion would occur, or even worse, complete silence. If I had learned anything during my three marriages, it was when to listen.

Annie's sigh broke the silence. I watched from the corner of my eye as she drew her legs up so that her chin was almost resting on her knees. She tucked her nightgown around her legs so that only her stocking covered toes were sticking out.

"Uncle Ben, may I ask you something?"

I was as cautious as I would be around a skittish colt. "Always, Annie." I didn't dare look directly at her. Whenever she asked that question, she knew that whatever she had to ask would not make me happy.

"Uncle Ben, did you mean it when you said what you said about punishing me if you ever caught me sneaking off with a boy?"

It took me a minute to figure out what she was asking, and a little while longer to recall our conversation. I looked at her. Her pose was rigid and she continued to stare straight ahead. Please God, don't let her confess what I think she's about to confess. I had promised to take my strop to her. I had only used such a harsh punishment once on a child of mine, on Adam, and the experience left us both shaken for weeks. I did not want to go through that with Annie. But, I have never broken a promise, either. I nodded.

"Yes, Annie. I did mean it."

The moon was bright enough that I could see her face, and I saw her lick her lips nervously. She nodded.

"Adam told me once that you did." She was silent again as she stared toward the corral. I waited for the confession, wondering what I would say, how I would react. I thought that as the father of three boys, I had faced every possible problem a youngster could present, but having a girl in the family meant new challenges almost every day.

"Uncle Ben, may I ask another question?"

I bit back my angry answer. If she thought I was going to let her drag this out, she was sadly mistaken. "Yes, Anna."

I saw her look at me, and I was aware that I did not keep my growing anger from my voice. She swallowed a few times nervously.

"Uncle Ben?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Uncle Ben, if two people love each other, if they want to get married, why do they need to wait until then to be…alone together?"

The anger welled inside of me. She knew better than this! She understood the reasons, she knew…An ugly thought jumped to mind.

"Annie, is that you asking or is that Mitch asking?"

She sat up straight and put her legs in front of her, her toes dangling just about the porch floor. She wouldn't look at me and I had my answer. Devil take the boy, no, Devil take the young man! He was old enough…when I got my hands on him…he'd rue the day he ever said that…

I leaned back against the wall and ran my fingers through my hair. I needed to forget Mitch for a minute – he wasn't here and Annie was. Once again I missed Marie. This was a conversation that a girl should have with her mother or her aunt, not with her uncle. I had, in the past, asked Margaret Green or Martha Devlin to speak with Annie about the things that a girl should know, but this was different. Ed had charged me with the moral upbringing of his daughter, and as uncomfortable as this conversation would be for both Annie and for me, I would not pass this duty to someone else.

I set aside my anger and touched her chin lightly so that she would turn toward me. "Annie, have you gone off alone with Mitch?"

Her eyes went wide. "No, sir. No, sir, I sure haven't."

I relaxed only slightly. "But you're thinking about it."

She looked at her hands and shrugged. "I guess. A little. I don't know."

I forced her chin up again. "Please look at me, Annie. Is Mitch asking you to be alone with him?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "Yes, sir."

Once again I had to check my growing anger. I would be speaking with that young man in the morning. "Annie, did Mitch tell you it didn't matter if you were alone with him because you would be married someday?"

Again she bit her lip and nodded. "Yes, sir."

It was getting harder to quell my fury. I needed Annie to understand something, and if I let my anger go, I would frighten her. The poor child was frightened enough.

"Annie, how old are you?"

My question seemed to surprise her. "I'm fourteen, Uncle Ben, almost fifteen."

I nodded. "You do understand that there can be consequences when a man and a woman are…alone." She tilted her head slightly. "I mean, in addition to the consequences from me, should I ever catch you."

I fancied I could see her blush in the moonlight as she took my meaning. She didn't say anything, but she nodded.

"You're fourteen, Annie. You are growing into an amazing young woman, but you are still young. Are you ready to face the consequences of your actions?"

She didn't hesitate. "No, sir. No, I know I'm not."

I waited. I had never envisioned myself having such a direct conversation with Annie, but it was better to have this conversation now than to see Annie and Mitch stand before a preacher years before they were ready.

"Do you want to be alone with Mitch?"

She nodded but then she turned to me. "Yes, sir, but I know it's wrong and I won't do it."

I relaxed. Good girl. But if she had already decided that, why was she out here? I put my arm around Annie and drew her close. Her body was tense and I thought I could hear her sniffling. "If you know that, why are you up so late? What's bothering you?"

I could definitely hear sniffling and her voice was so quiet that I had to lean close. "He said if I loved him, it wouldn't matter…"

My jaw tensed and I had to restrain myself from riding to the Devlin ranch that minute. "Is that why you're out here in the middle of the night? You've quarreled because Mitch asked you to be alone with him sometime soon?"

"Tomorrow."

My head shot up. "What?" My voice was louder than I intended and I prayed I hadn't wakened the boys. I could feel Annie shrink down.

"He wanted…he said he knew a place…"

My blood boiled, and I vowed this young man would have a very different day than he had planned.

"And you're thinking of going? That's why you're out here?"

Annie stood and she turned to me. "No, sir. I just told you that I knew it was wrong, and not because I knew you'd give me an awful whipping, and probably Mitch, too. I was sitting out here because I didn't think I knew how to answer Mitch's question, about what did it matter." Now Annie was getting angry, although with me or with Mitch, I wasn't sure. I pulled her onto my lap for a hug.

"Annie, I think you knew the answer all along, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir, I guess I did. But he said that if I loved him as much as he loved me, it wouldn't matter." She hesitated. "But it seems to me, if he loved me, he wouldn't say something like that, would he?"

I should have known better than to worry. Annie was an intelligent young woman. I took considerable pride in the fact that she felt she could speak with me when things were bothering her.

I could feel her stir, and I looked down just as she reached up to kiss me on the cheek.

"Thank you, Uncle Ben, for listening." She hesitated. ""You're going to Mitch's tomorrow, aren't you?" I nodded, and she smiled wistfully. "I think I'm real angry with Mitch right now, Uncle Ben. But I know you are. I feel kinda sorry for him."

I almost laughed as I stood. "C'mon, morning will be here too soon."

Annie paused at the door. "Uncle Ben, are you sorry I'm a girl? Would it be easier if I were a boy?"

I grinned. "Don't you believe for a minute that boys are easier than girls, Annie." I ruffled her hair. "And no, I'm not at all sorry you're a girl. I like you just fine the way you are."

I didn't sleep much more that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I thought of how I would speak with Mitch. If I ever found that one of my sons had behaved so badly, there was no doubt that I would punish him severely. But I knew that my sons were raised to treat women with respect. Of course, before I spoke with Annie, I would have thought Mitch had been raised that way as well.

As I paced my room, I tried to regain control of my anger. No doubt I would throttle the boy if I ever approached him in this mood. Marie had taught me that I should never confront anyone in anger; anger would lead to actions that I would later regret. I certainly knew that was true for I had many things to regret. I sat on my bed and leaned against the headboard. Mitch was sixteen. When I was sixteen, I was sailing. I closed my eyes. No, when I was sixteen, I was desperately in love. But I would never have tried to arrange a secret rendezvous with Liz.

I laughed suddenly. When I was sixteen, I was terrified of Liz's father. If I had convinced her to be alone with me, he would have flayed me alive. I knew the old man thought of me as a son, but I also knew that if he even thought I had hurt Liz, he would have had me over a barrel. And then he would have handed me to my uncle, who would have made short work of whatever was left of me.

Sixteen. A lifetime ago. I conjured a picture of Liz at that age. That wasn't hard because I see her every day at the table when I sit across from our son. I remembered the stolen kisses, the burning passion that I felt. I thought I would live and die by the sight of her. When I was on shore, nothing mattered but being near her.

As I remembered my first love, I could feel my fury with Mitch ebb away, replaced by a quiet anger and profound disappointment. I almost understood how he felt, and I no longer had the desire to throttle him. Punishing Mitch was his father's responsibility. But I could no longer trust the young man the way I once did, and there were consequences of that lost trust.

I woke the next morning to the sun streaming in the window. My back ached from sleeping propped against the headboard, and my head hurt from the lack of sleep.

I pulled on my pants and shirt and eased the suspenders over my shoulders. Splashing some water on my face revived me a little; no doubt Hop Sing's coffee would wake me up.

Annie had a cup ready for me as I left my room. I gave her braid a little tug and looked around for Adam. I only saw Hop Sing carrying food to the table.

"He's outside, Uncle Ben." Annie sounded more awake than I felt. The advantage of youth, I suppose.

I turned to her, confused. "Who's outside? How did you know who I was looking for?"

She giggled. "Actually, they're all outside. Adam's in the barn, Hoss is checking on the horses and Joe's feeding the chickens. I'm just setting the table, but I heard you moving around, so I thought I'd get your coffee ready."

She no sooner finished her list than the door banged open and all three sons tromped in.

"Sorry about that, Pa." Hoss is always sorry about slamming the door open and closed, but he never remembers to be gentle. Maybe I should make him responsible for fixing it when it breaks.

"Adam?"

Adam had sat at the table but wasn't looking at anyone.

"Adam!" I raised my voice slightly to get his attention. Joe just rolled his eyes, so I guessed that Adam had been like that while doing chores as well. I crossed the room and tapped my eldest on his shoulder. He jumped.

"Adam, I've called you twice."

"Sorry, Pa. I was thinking about something."

I wish I knew what was bothering him, but I had other problems today. I had to trust that Adam would come to me when he was ready.

Hop Sing called us all to breakfast. As we ate, I looked around the table.

"Adam, I have an errand to run this morning." I could see Annie blush slightly and look at her plate. "While I'm gone, I need you and Hoss to take care of that beaver dam we found." Adam and Hoss nodded. "Joseph, I want you to go help them." I looked directly at my youngest son. Lately we had had some problems with Joseph completing his tasks. The last time he did not, I warned him that I had been as tolerant as I planned to be, and that there would be even more unpleasant consequences than he had already faced if I had to speak with him again. Apparently the boy had gotten the message, for he nodded quickly.

"Hop Sing, do you require Annie's help today?"

My friend bobbed his head. "Yes. We must harvest garden before frost."

Annie smiled at that. She enjoyed being outdoors this time of year. We all did, for that matter. The winter months were quickly approaching, and we would be cooped up inside for much of it.

Good. Everyone would be busy, which meant I didn't have to worry about mischief at home. I noticed Adam pushing his plate away, still looking as though he were lost in thought.

"Adam?" No response. I spoke a little louder. "Adam!"

Hoss moved slightly, and Adam jumped. He looked at me as he reached down to rub his shin.

"Sorry, Pa."

"Son, if you're done, please go saddle my horse." I watched him grab his coat and hurry from the house, carefully closing the door behind him. I turned back to the table.

"Does anyone know what's bothering him?"

Annie, Hop Sing and Joe shook their heads. Hoss shrugged.

"I dunno, Pa, but I know Miz Orowitz gave him a letter yesterday when we were in town."

A letter? Well, I was going to have to wait until Adam decided to confide in me. I sighed; I had delayed the inevitable long enough. I rose, thanked Hop Sing, reminded everyone to do their chores, and I headed out the door.

I had just mounted Buck when Annie came running from the house. She jumped down the stairs and came to a stop by my left stirrup.

"Uncle Ben?" She shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up at me.

"Yes, Annie?"

"Uncle Ben, please don't kill him?"

I almost laughed at her earnest expression but I only shook my head slowly.

"Annie, I won't kill him." I gathered the reins and she stepped away. As I started to ride off, I turned and looked back at her. "I'll leave that to his father." With that I urged Buck on and headed toward the Devlin ranch.

I spent most of my ride wondering how I was going to tell George. No man likes to hear that his son is behaving badly; that's why I always told my sons that it was better for me to hear such things from them. And there were Annie's feelings to consider, too. Much of what she had told me, she was telling me in confidence. I would not betray her trust.

My thoughts wandered to Adam and his problem. Who could be writing to him? The only people who ever wrote to us were my brother and Annie's uncle Pat, when he could find someone to write for him. My cousin Charlie wrote sporadically, as did Abel. But Adam always shared the news from his grandfather's letters. Perhaps it was Isabella? Adam had had no word from her in the years since she had gone to Mexico, but I could not imagine anyone else upsetting my unflappable eldest son.

I rode into the Devlin yard. No one was outside and I hoped I would not be interrupting their breakfast. I hadn't visited in a while. I noticed George was already adding on to the barn that we had rebuilt a month or so ago. I dismounted, looped Buck's reins around the rail in front of the porch, and hurried up the steps. I was just about to knock when the door swung open. I don't know who was more surprised, me or Pete Devlin.

"Mr. Cartwright! I'm sorry, I didn't even hear you ride in. "

"Good morning, Pete." The young man stepped aside to let me in, but I shook my head. "Is your father here?"

George stepped up behind his son. "Good morning, Ben. C'mon in. What brings you out this early?" Pete excused himself and hurried toward the barn. I could see Martha and the rest of the Devlin children finishing their breakfast.

I didn't move. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your breakfast, George, but I wonder if I might have a word with you…outside." George looked at me curiously but nodded. "And perhaps Mitch could join us, please?"

George frowned as he reached for his coat. He turned to the table and jerked his head toward the door. Mitch licked his lips nervously and stood. His face had gone white. I saw his mother shake her head slowly.

Mitch and his father followed me down the steps and over to the corral. I stood with my back to the fence, crossed my arms and frowned at Mitch.

"What you were thinking when you invited Annie to go to a secluded place with you to be…alone?" I spoke each word with great deliberation. If I were not careful, my anger would take over again.

Mitch swallowed and opened his mouth, but no words came out. His father grabbed him by the arm and gave him a shake.

"Mitchell!" George Devlin is not a big man; he doesn't come much past my shoulder. But he is powerfully built, and not to be taken lightly. I did not think it were possible for Mitch to look more nervous than he had been, but when his father grabbed him, I thought the boy would faint.

Mitch stared at the ground. "I…did she say…I'm sorry."

"Then perhaps you could explain to me and to your father what you were doing when you tried to convince her it was all right for the two of you to be alone." My words were clipped.

Mitch's response was drowned out by his father's roar. George turned to his son. "What in blazes were you thinking, boy?" George turned back to me. "Ben, I'm real sorry about this. The boy's been raised right; he knows better'n to act like this." I nodded, not really sure what to say, but George kept speaking. "I'm gonna give him a real good reminder, too. Unless you want to, Ben."

I shook my head. "No, George. I'll leave that to you." I've always believed that if my boys are in trouble, any punishment should come from me, not someone else. George nodded and then pointed to the barn. Mitch looked from his father to me and turned to go.

George watched the boy shuffle into the barn, and then he turned to me. "Ben, I really am sorry. I just can't think of what got inta that boy. Is Annie upset?"

I leaned against the fence, grateful that I had gotten through the confrontation with Mitch without losing my temper. "Yes, she's upset. But she had enough sense to not listen to him." George shook his head, too angry to speak. For Mitch's sake, I hoped he would take a walk around the barn several times before going in. "George, I hope you'll understand that Mitch isn't welcome around the Ponderosa right now."

The man nodded. "He won't be goin' anywhere when I'm done with him. And when his ma gets wind o' what happened…" I almost smiled at that. Martha Devlin had, from the moment she met Annie, become one of my niece's fiercest champions. I think Mitch had no idea of the consequences his actions would reap.

I held out my hand, and George shook it. "I'll leave you then, George. I'm sorry to start your day so badly, but I didn't feel this was something I could overlook."

George walked me back to my horse. "No need to be sorry, Ben. The boy's the one who did wrong, not you. I'm just sorry he upset Annie. You tell her that, won't you?"

I nodded as I swung onto Buck. The door opened and Martha stepped onto the porch. I tipped my hat to her, and turned to go. As I glanced back, I could see George slowly walk to his wife.

I rode by the lake on my way home, to visit Marie. I don't know that I thought of anything as I sat on the bench that Adam had fashioned. It was times like this when my heart ached for her, and not just because I wished she were there to speak with Annie. Somehow, problems with the boys always seemed easier to bear when I could talk to her.

Annie was in the garden as I rode into the yard. She hurried over to see me, wiping her hands on her apron as she came.

"You didn't kill him, did you?" Her voice was anxious. To think this was the girl who had been so angry with Mitch the night before.

"No, Annie, I didn't kill him." I started to lead Buck toward the barn. Annie kept along side of me. "I didn't kill him, but I can't make any promises for his father." Annie nodded sadly, and I stopped to look down at her. I raised her chin so she would look me in the eye. "You do understand that Mitch is not welcome here right now?"

"Yes, sir." She shrugged slightly. "I figured as much."

I bent over to kiss the top of her head. "Go finish your chores then."

I watched her run back to the garden, and then I led Buck into the barn. As I unsaddled the horse, I thought back to a night long ago, when Abel had caught me kissing Liz in the Burying Ground. After a lifetime, I finally understood how the man felt. Not just his anger at catching us, but also the sadness of knowing that his little girl was being taken from him.

I spent the day doing chores around the ranch. I was hoping that the hard work of preparing for winter would help me shake my melancholy, but the thoughts of the cold and the snow only worsened my mood. I was quiet during supper, only speaking enough to make sure the chores I had assigned that morning were completed. Neither Adam nor Annie spoke unless spoken to, and everyone was glad to go to bed early, to escape the gloom that appeared to be settling over our heads.

Once again I found myself unable to sleep. I thought perhaps a brandy might help settle my mind, and so I headed into the main room. I was surprised to see Adam sitting on the sofa, staring into the fire. He turned as I approached.

"Hey, Pa. Couldn't sleep either?"

I shook my head as I poured two glasses of brandy. Perhaps now I might find out what was bothering Adam. He nodded his thanks as I handed him one glass, and I settled into the chair on his right.

Neither of us spoke for several minutes and I was beginning to think I would never find out what was troubling my son, when he leaned forward to pick up an envelope from the table.

"Yesterday, when I was in town, Mrs. Orowitz gave me this letter." Adam held it slightly aloft. "It's from my grandfather." Adam leaned toward me and handed me the letter. "Go ahead, read it."

I put down my drink and pulled the thin sheets of paper from the envelope. Leaning toward the fire for light, I opened the letter and began to read.

My dear grandson:

I hope you are well. I find myself thinking more frequently of you and I pray daily that I will see you again before I die. I have recently completed my seventy-fifth year, and while I enjoy excellent health, there can be no doubt but that I will join my beloved wife and your most excellent mother sooner rather than later.

Adam, I know that you wish to attend college. I propose that you place your application to Harvard for the fall semester, one year hence. I shall pay all your tuitions and fees, and you may live with me. You may work in the chandlery to earn money for your incidental expenses.

You are your father's son, and are right now saying that you do not accept charity and that you will make it to college on your own. But, remember this. You are my sole heir, and all that I have will be yours. Spend this money now, when it will bring us both pleasure. Allow me the presence of my only grandson during my declining years.

Please convey my regards to your family. I remain your most affectionate grandfather,

Abel Stoddard

Judging by the tone of the letter, the sly old fox had not changed one whit. I almost laughed. His "declining years" indeed. The man would outlive us all!

I looked up from the letter to find Adam watching me intently. "It's a generous offer, son." He nodded, but didn't speak. "You want to go, don't you?" I knew the answer. I had known it since before Adam had learned to read.

"Yes, Pa. I want to go." I could hear the catch in his voice.

"Then why have you been so pensive since you received the letter?" I knew the answer, but I needed him to understand why he was wrong.

"How can I leave? You need me here."

I moved to sit next to him. "Adam, we've had this conversation before. You must live your life, not mine. You've wanted to go to college since you first knew what it was."

He stared into the fire. "But the Ponderosa…"

"The Ponderosa will be here in four years if you go to college and it will be here in four years if you do not go to college. I have your brothers and Annie, and we can hire more ranch hands during the summer months. I need you Adam, but not to work for me. Right now, I need you to think only of yourself." I knew that would be hard for him. He had been thinking of others his entire life. "Adam, you're twenty-two years old. If you don't go soon, you'll never go, and someday you'll regret that. Abel's offer is a wondrous gift. And he's right, it's not charity."

I stopped talking. He needed to make up his own mind. All I could do was support whichever decision he made. I purposely didn't look at him until I could feel him stirring next to me.

"You're right, Pa. I'll never have another opportunity like this, will I?" I saw his slow smile reach his eyes, and his shoulders looked like they no longer carried the weight of the world.

Adam stood and looked at me. The excitement in his eyes reminded me of a younger boy. "I'll write to Grandfather in the morning. I'll need to get the admission information from Harvard…" I watched him walk toward the bunkroom, already deep in thought. He stopped abruptly and turned back to me.

"Pa, I think I'd better not say anything to anyone else right now." I nodded. That was going to be a hurdle when his brothers and Annie found out Adam was leaving for four years…if he returned at all. No use borrowing trouble as my mother always said.

"Good night, Adam." But he had already turned back to the door, once again making his plans.

I sat in front of the fireplace, my thoughts lost in the flames. When Adam had handed me Abel's letter, I had a brief, foolish thought that Abel was dying. When Abel died, the last adult of my youth would be gone – except for my father's cousin, Charlie, who we never really considered to be an adult because he was so irresponsible. When Abel died, I would be the old man…

I don't know if was the coming of winter, or hearing my niece speak of marriage, or even just falling asleep in a bad position, but I had been feeling every one of my forty-three years all day. My father was five years younger than me when he had died. Then again, my great-uncle was twice my age when he had died, and Charlie was well into his seventh decade. I glanced back at the letter lying on the table. Abel had just turned seventy-five! That was unbelievable.

I rolled my eyes. From the sounds of Abel's letter, he was no nearer to meeting his maker than he had been the last time I had seen him, almost twenty years ago. And if he were here right now he would have my hide for the maudlin mood I had been in all day. I could hear his bellow. "Benjamin! I will not tolerate this foolishness any longer!"

Funny how Abel had been in my thoughts these last few days. I suppose, watching Annie worry about Mitch, I now understand how Abel felt when I started courting Liz. I should write to him, tell him. He would appreciate the irony.

I glanced at the now closed bunkroom door. And what will he think of Liz's son, when they finally meet again? He will be as proud of his only grandson as I am, of that I have no doubt. That's how I feel when I look at each of my children. I am so blessed. They are each of them healthy and smart. Adam has grown into a fine young man, steadfast and brave. Looking at him is like looking at Liz again. Hoss is almost grown. He is so much like his mother, kind and strong and loving. Joseph…I have a ways to go with that young man but despite his penchant for trouble and his desire to avoid chores, he can make me smile on the worst days. He truly is his mother's son. And Annie…I am so proud of her after our conversation last night. Like Adam she has developed a maturity beyond her years, and she is a joy to have in my life.

I woke the next morning once again feeling stiff, but in a decidedly better mood. As it was Sunday, and unseasonably warm, and the minister was out of town, I decided it was the perfect day to spend by the lake. I told everyone at breakfast that they were to do the minimal chores. Annie and Hop Sing volunteered to make a picnic lunch, although Hop Sing also informed me he would stay behind. I'm not sure if he feels that he is intruding at these times, or if he simply enjoys the solitude when we are all away. I suspect it is the latter.

We were almost to the lake when Adam caught my eye. He nodded at his brothers and Annie, winked at me, and shouted, "Race ya!" He was several lengths ahead of us before anyone reacted, and when we did, it sounded like a band of wild horses stampeding through the woods. Using strategy and, I will confess, a little trickery, I was able to maneuver past Hoss, then Joe, then Annie. Adam and I were neck and neck for the rest of the way, until, just before we reached the lake, Adam bent low over Beauty's neck and spurred her on to victory. I looked back at the others in dismay, but Hoss just shrugged.

"You know the rules, Pa."

I did, but that wasn't the point. I listened to the good-natured ribbing of my younger two and, sighing, I turned back to Adam. I braced myself as he grinned, made a fist, and punched me in the arm. Glory, but that young man is strong!

We spent the day eating, resting, playing whatever games we could invent, and generally enjoying what would probably be our last picnic for several months. As I watched Annie and Joe trying to knock each other off as they rode on Adam's and Hoss's shoulders, I wondered how I could have ever felt old yesterday.

We were all exhausted that night at supper. I reminded Annie and Joe that they would be staying home from school for the next couple of weeks. I hated to have them miss school, especially when they would probably miss a lot of school because of snow, but I needed their help to get ready for the coming winter. It took all of us to stock the house with enough food and wood and meat to survive. The lessons that I learned rescuing the Donner survivors are never far from my mind, and the thought that my family might suffer such a fate, as unlikely as that may be, forces me to action. Adam, after learning about the Donner rescue, once told me that he finally understood why I became such a slave driver every autumn.

We were at breakfast the next morning when I heard a knock at the door. I noticed none of my children leaping to see who it was, so I placed my napkin on my chair and hurried to answer the knock. I was surprised to see Mitch Devlin standing on the porch.

"May I speak with you, Mr. Cartwright?" Mitch stood stiffly, hat in his hand, looking straight at me. He didn't try to peer around me, to try to see Annie.

I nodded and stepped onto the porch, closing the door softly behind me. I gestured towards the bench. "Have a seat, Mitch." I had to hide a smile when I saw Mitch frown.

"Thank you, sir, but I'd just as soon stand."

I was sure he would. I noticed his stirrups on his horse's saddle were pulled rather higher than they should be for a young man of his height, too. Obviously whatever Mitch had to say to me was important enough that it couldn't wait until he could ride in comfort. I suggested we walk to the corral, and he stepped aside to let me lead the way. I stopped at the fence, leaned an elbow on the top rail and waited patiently.

The young man took a deep breath. "Mr. Cartwright, I've come to apologize to you, sir."

I nodded and waited. When Mitch didn't say anything, I waved my hand toward him, to prompt him.

Mitch squirmed. "Mr. Cartwright, what I said to Annie was wrong and I am sorry I did it. I know I've no right to it, but I've come to ask your forgiveness."

I appreciated Mitch's forthrightness, but I was determined to not make this easy for the boy. He needed to understand that his actions had far-reaching consequences, and he also needed to understand that it would be some time before I could trust him again.

"Does your father know you're here?"

Mitch looked startled. "Yes, sir, I asked his permission, but I'm not here because he told me to come, if that's what you're asking."

It was. I wanted to know that the apology was Mitch's, not one his father told him to make.

"Mitch, you are a man, and it's a man's responsibility to protect a woman. If Annie had listened to you, and I had found out, she would have been severely punished for her disobedience." I had to work to contain my temper. Mitch had been punished, and was facing the consequences of his actions. Yelling at him would not help.

Mitch flushed red and he studied his boots. He looked at me. "Yes, sir. My father told me the same thing." He closed his eyes briefly. "Mr. Cartwright, I would like to know how I could make this right between us. It's…it's important to me."

"Why?"

"Sir?"

I gestured from him to me. "Why is it important to you to make this right between us?"

Mitch ran his fingers through his hair. "Mr. Cartwright, I have great affection for Annie…"

"I should hope you would have great affection for a girl that you were trying to seduce." I stood straight and looked down at him.

Mitch blanched as he twirled his hat in his hands. His voice took on an almost pleading tone. "Mr. Cartwright, I'm asking for a second chance."

My tone was clipped, and I jabbed my finger at him to emphasis each word. "Mitch, that was your second chance."

Once again, an image of myself at sixteen flashed in my mind. I knew exactly how it felt to stand in Mitch's boots, how much courage it took for Mitch to come here to speak to me. Did I really want to frighten him the way that Abel had frightened me? I relaxed and reached out to touch the young man's arm.

"I won't bite you, lad, but you need to tell me. Why is it important to you to make this right between us?"

Mitch seemed startled by my softer tone, and he glanced away. I watched him take a deep breath, stand tall and look me straight in the eyes. "Because, Mr. Cartwright, I hope someday to speak to you concerning Annie's future." The young man held my gaze, not with defiance, but with respect. I wanted to tell him that he had earned my forgiveness but I had to wait. He was like any of my sons, and I needed to see him work this out for himself.

I nodded slowly. "I see. Mitch, you understand that that conversation must be a long time coming. Annie is too young to even think of marriage." I raised my hand and pointed straight at him. "That is why I am so angry with you for trying to lure her away with you. What you wanted to do can have serious consequences." He blushed, but he continued to look my in the eye.

"Yes, sir. I…my father reminded me of that after you left, sir."

I was sure George had reminded Mitch of that, and of a few other things. "You must know, young man, that I trusted you with Annie, and you abused that trust. I am very disappointed in you right now."

Mitch looked as though I had struck him. He was as forlorn as any of my sons when they knew they had disappointed me. Good.

He took a deep breath. "Yes, sir, I understand that, too." He licked his lips nervously. "Mr. Cartwright, I am hoping that you will accept my apology, and that you will give me a chance to earn your trust again, even though I've already used my second chance."

"How do you plan to do that?" I thought perhaps he was hoping that I would just forgive him and tell him I trusted him again. If so, he was sadly mistaken.

But I was the one who was mistaken. Mitch had obviously thought quite a bit about how to regain my trust.

"My father told me that I wasn't welcome at the Ponderosa right now. I only came today so that I could talk to you, not so I could see Annie. I won't try to see her, or even speak to her until you say I may." I could tell by his wistful expression that he was hoping that I would grant my permission sooner rather than later. But I said nothing, so he continued. "Mr. Cartwright, I'm hoping that if I abide by your rules, that you'll learn to trust me again, and that I'll be welcome here again." When I said nothing, he blurted out, "I don't know what else to do, sir."

I nodded slowly. "I think that's a good start, Mitch." I held out my hand, and Mitch shook it gratefully. "Don't expect permission to call on Annie soon, though. I believe some time apart might be good for you both."

Mitch nodded. "Yes, sir." He looked at his feet and then glanced at me. "I can't pretend that I'm happy about that, sir, but I know I've only myself to blame." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "Mr. Cartwright, I didn't think you'd let me see Annie to apologize to her, so I wrote her a note." He shrugged. "I'm not real good with words, so I don't know if she'll like it." He held it out to me. "Would you give it to her, sir? I didn't seal it, in case you wanted to read it."

I took it from him and slid it into my pocket. "I don't need to read this, Mitch. I don't think you will jeopardize your last chance." I gestured to his horse, and he took the hint. As we headed toward the house, I assured him that I would give the note to Annie.

We had reached the porch when I noticed a movement in the window, and the curtain falling back into place. No doubt Annie was making sure I wasn't killing her sweetheart. I sighed. This was one time that I thought boys might be easier to raise.

I watched Mitch ride off before walking up the steps. I opened the door and all eyes turned toward me. I could see that the boys were curious, although they knew not to ask any questions. Annie looked like she was about to cry. Hop Sing said nothing, he just bustled about clearing the breakfast dishes. I looked at the boys.

"If you don't have any chores to do, I'm sure I can find something." I had barely finished my sentence before the door closed behind them. Annie stood and headed after them.

"Anna, I'd like to speak with you, please." I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee and sat at the table. I gestured to the seat next to me, and Annie sat. I heard the sound of the back door closing softly, and I knew that Hop Sing had gone to give us privacy.

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. Annie sniffled and rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. She spoke so quietly, I wasn't even sure she had said anything.

"I wish I hadn't told you."

"What?!" I was so startled that I almost spilled my coffee.

Annie gulped. "I shouldn'ta said anything. Now Mitch hates me. He didn't even want to see me."

If she only knew…I smiled as I drew his note from my pocket. "On the contrary, he left a letter for you. He knew I wouldn't allow him to see you, so he wrote a note of apology."

Annie smiled shyly as she reached out to take the note. "He did?" She glanced at it before slipping it into her apron pocket. "Is that why you wanted to see me, Uncle Ben?"

"No, not exactly." I rubbed my hand over my eyes, trying to think of what to say. "I've told Mitch that he may not call on you, he may not even speak with you, until I give him permission. That goes for you as well."

Annie reacted as I expected she would. Her look became quite indignant, and her eyes narrowed. She would do well to mind her manners.

"And when do you plan to give your permission?" Annie's tone was impatient, and bordered on insolent.

So much for minding her manners. My anger flashed as quickly as hers, and I set my coffee cup on the table as I stood. "When I choose to, young lady, and not one minute before."

Annie's face turned scarlet, her eyes opened wide and she almost knocked over her chair in her hurry to stand. "I'm sorry, Uncle Ben. I didn't mean to sound disrespectful."

I suspect she really meant that she didn't intend to get caught sounding disrespectful, but I decided to accept her apology and let it slide. I do that more with Annie and with Joe than I ever would have done with Adam.

"I accept your apology, Annie, but I hope you realize that I mean what I said about Mitch."

"Yes, sir. I won't disobey you." She started to clear the table, but set the plates down and turned back to me. She looked at me shyly. "Uncle Ben? I'm not sorry I told you."

I pulled her toward me for a hug. "I'm glad to hear that. Don't ever be afraid to tell me what's bothering you. I can't help you if you don't let me." I kissed the top of her head. "You know, Adam's mother always told me that a problem shared is a…"

She returned my hug. "…a problem made lighter. I won't forget, Uncle Ben."

I was unrelenting in my exile for Mitch for several weeks. I had to give the boy credit; he did not try to see Annie when I wasn't around, he did not loiter in places in which she might be, and he didn't even try to speak to her after church. Annie, too, obeyed me, although I could feel her unspoken question every Sunday as we socialized after services.

Finally, one Friday morning shortly before Thanksgiving, I was surprised by a visit from Martha Devlin. I was the only one home; the others were off doing chores or attending school. I invited Martha in for coffee and we sat at the table.

She got right to the point, as I knew she would. "Ben, I've come to speak to you on behalf of my boy."

I grinned. "No surprise there."

She set the coffee cup down. "I know the boy did wrong, Ben, but I think he's been punished enough. His pa lit inta him real good, and then he heard from me. I know for a fact that facin' you was just about the hardest thing he's done." She smiled slightly. "I think knowin' that he disappointed you was harder on him than knowin' we were disappointed in him." She hesitated. "Ben, he adores Annie, and he's miserable not bein' able to speak to her."

I thought a minute before I nodded. "You're right. Tell the boy he can speak to her after church Sunday."

Martha stood and smiled. "Thanks, Ben."

Annie was by my side Sunday morning after church when Mitch came to us. He held out his hand, and I shook it. "Thank you, Mr. Cartwright."

I just nodded and turned to Annie. "I'm sure you two have some things to say." I pointed to where Mitch's parents stood. "I'll be talking with your parents."

I couldn't help feeling a little pang of jealousy when Annie's face lit up as she smiled at Mitch. I started to walk to his parents when I felt her tugging on my sleeve. I turned and she threw herself into my arms and kissed me soundly. "Thank you," she whispered.

I hugged her a minute and then looked at Mitch. "You're welcome to join us for supper, Mitch."

The End