Father and Son

By Marion

Thanks to Nancy – as always – for her beta read of this story.

Boston, October 1820

Ben Cartwright raced up the hill, never pausing as he usually did to gaze at the harbor, and the ships bobbing at anchor. He was late, and he needed to get home before Father did, or he would catch it but good. He dodged the carts and buggies as he darted across the street, ignoring the curses of the deliverymen as he ran in front of their horses. He could hear the church clocks toll the hour, and he redoubled his efforts. Father would be home shortly.

He stopped as he reached the Cartwright backyard. Panting, he opened the gate and hurried in, taking care to close the gate securely behind him. He threw his books on the back step and grabbed the ax.

"Father’s not home yet."

Ben spun around. His younger brother was standing in the barn door. "Glory, Eddie, you scared me."

The boy shrugged as he stepped into the yard. "I’ve done your other chores, but I didn’t want Mother to look out the window and see me chopping the wood when it’s your week. Then she’d ask questions and I figured the answers would get you into trouble."

A wave of relief swept over Ben. "Thanks, I owe you." He grabbed a log, and with a swing of the ax split the log in half. He knew Eddie would help if he could, but neither brother would lie for the other. Father did not care for dishonesty, and his sons did not care for the consequences.

Eddie shrugged again. "Figure you’d do the same for me." He stepped over Ben’s books, paused, and stepped down again. He bent and picked up the books. "I’ll take these in for you. Mother’d have a fit if she saw the way you tossed them just now."

Ben nodded and turned back to his chore. As he chopped wood, he thought about his schoolmaster. All Ben had done was allow his mind to wander during the afternoon lesson. Mr. Copp had overreacted when he scolded Ben and made him stay after school for an extra hour. Ben shook his head. He had done so well in the six weeks they had lived in Boston. True, this wasn’t the first time Ben had been in trouble in school, but he had managed to stay out of trouble at home.

Of course, Ben thought as he picked up the last log, if Father had known of Ben’s and Ed’s explorations since the Cartwrights had moved to Boston from Plymouth, he would have been displeased. But, what Father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt Ben.

He set the log against the wood box and bundled the wood into the bag to carry it into the house. Mother wasn’t in the kitchen when Ben filled the wood box, but he found her in the parlor, where she was watering a plant.

"Hello, Mother." He grinned as he bent to kiss her cheek. Being taller than her was a new experience for him, and he enjoyed it immensely.

Kit pushed a strand of graying hair from her eyes before she touched her son’s arm lightly. "Benjamin, I’m glad to see you home." Ben squirmed at her emphasis on home, and he wondered if she knew he had been late. But Mother said nothing, only pointed to the bag. "Is that for the dining room?"

"Yes, ma’am." Ben turned to the wood box. "Looks like we need some in the parlor, though. I’ll go chop some more." He dumped the wood into the wood box and hurried from the room before she could ask how his day had been at school.

He was almost done chopping the remainder of the wood when he heard the gate close. Ben swallowed hard, then turned. "Good evening, Father."

Joseph Cartwright nodded as he walked up the path. "Benjamin." He glanced at the ax. "Are you just doing your chores now?"

Ben shook his head. "No, sir. I filled the kitchen box already, and I was going to fill the dining room box, as you told me to do this morning, but I saw that we needed wood for the parlor, so I put the wood I meant to put in the dining room into the parlor box, and now I have to chop more to fill the dining room box." He took a breath.

Joe stared at his son for a moment before he shook his head. "Very well. Be sure to wash up before coming to the table."

"Yes, sir." Ben blew out a sigh of relief as his father closed the kitchen door behind him. He hastened to finish his chores before washing up and joining his family at the supper table.

Ben slid into his seat next to Ed, and folded his hands while Mother said the blessing. Fortunately neither Father nor Mother asked how Ben’s day was; in fact, they spent most of the meal discussing the news of the day. Of course, neither Ben nor Eddie ventured a word. One of Mother’s firmest rules at the table was that children were not to speak until spoken to and never had Ben been so happy to obey his mother. He finished his supper and set the fork on his plate.

"Benjamin?"

"Yes, Father?"

"If you are done with your supper, you are excused. Please wait for me in my study. I have something I wish to discuss with you privately."

How had Father known about the trouble? Ben glanced at Ed, who looked at him in pity. Ben turned to his mother and excused himself. He left his napkin beside his plate as he trudged from the room.

Ben had only been in Father’s study once since they moved to Boston. The room was small, big enough only for a desk, a tall bookcase and two armchairs. It was Father’s private place, and it was not a room the boys wished to enter, for typically the only time they were invited in was when they were in trouble.

Ben leaned against the leather side chair and thought about the one time he had been in this study. Shortly after he and Eddie had returned from the Cape, but before John had left with Captain Stoddard, Ben had asked to speak with Father alone. When Father had closed the door behind them, Ben had stood, staring up at his father. Father wasn’t as big as Uncle John, but he was still more than a head taller than Ben. He had frowned as he had looked at his son.

"Is something amiss, Benjamin?"

Ben had wiped his hands on his trousers and then blurted out his confession that he had eavesdropped on Father and the doctor and that he knew why Mother had been ill.

Father had nodded slowly before settling into this very side chair and inviting Ben to sit across from him. The two had spoken at great length about Mother’s illness, and how she had recovered during the summer that Ben and Eddie had been with Uncle John. Now Father was counting on Ben to help see that she did not overly exert herself.

When Ben had confessed that he had been afraid Mother would die, Father had sat back, shoulders slumped. "So was I, son, so was I." Ben had been struck at how weary his father had looked, and he had resolved that he would not add to Father’s cares.

Now he stood in front of Father’s desk, berating himself for breaking his resolution. He had stood before that desk so many times in Plymouth, while Father sat behind it, demanding to know what Ben had been thinking, or demanding to know why Ben had so obviously not been thinking. The only thing worse than listening to Father’s lecture was what Father did after the lecture was over.

This time Ben was determined to show Father that he understood what he had done wrong, and that he had accepted the consequences. When the door opened and Father stepped in, Ben stood straight, hands resting behind him, chin up so he could look his father in the eye.

"Father, I can explain."

Father’s eyebrows rose, and he closed the door behind him. "Indeed, Benjamin?"

"Yes, sir. I know I am to pay better attention in school, but the day was so fine that I allowed my mind to wander. Mr. Copp has punished me, and I regret my inattention."

Father covered his mouth quickly with his hand, and he turned his back to his son. When he turned to face Ben again, he stood with one hand resting his hip. He gestured toward Ben. "And you feel that Mr. Copp’s punishment should be sufficient."

"Yes, sir. I had to stay after school for one hour, which is longer than my attention wandered." Ben tried to read his father’s face, but the man’s expression was blank.

"I see." To Ben’s amazement, Father settled into one of his armchair and indicated that Ben should sit in the other one.

"Benjamin, I did not ask you in here to discuss your trouble at school. Until you spoke, I had no idea that you had been in trouble." Father’s brief smile was quickly replaced by a stern frown. "I will allow Mr. Copp’s punishment to suffice this time, but I suggest there not be another incident."

Ben nodded quickly. "Yes, sir." He hoped his relief did not show as he hastened to ask, "Why did you wish to speak with me, sir?"

Father leaned back and ran his fingers through his graying hair. "You are thirteen, Benjamin, and you have entered your last year of school." He smiled slightly. "Despite today’s minor transgression, I have been pleased with your behavior these past two months. You have worked hard to help your mother, and you have behaved yourself, even if you and Edward have trouble understanding the boundaries I have set for your exploration."

Ben blushed at his father’s praise, but squirmed when he realized that Father knew that he and Eddie had not always heeded Father’s instructions about how far they could wander. He was relieved that Father seemed to be excusing that, even if Ben had no delusions that further wanderings would be overlooked.

"Son, I need to know what it is you wish to do with yourself, once you have finished school. If you wish to enter a trade, I know of several masters to whom you could be apprenticed." Father smiled. "I suspect you do not wish to further your education in school."

When Ben hesitated, his father leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Benjamin, when I was a little older than you, my cousin Charlie decided to go to sea. I’d always enjoyed school, but I knew that my uncle couldn’t afford to send me to college. If I couldn’t go to school, I thought I would prefer to work in a shop. But, I was convinced that Uncle John expected me to go to sea, and so I followed Charlie.

"I was miserable for that year. I was a terrible sailor, and I was forever getting into trouble with Captain Stoddard, for although he was only first mate at the time, he was our master. When we finally returned to the Cape, he was the one who told my uncle I was not cut out for the sea. Uncle John was furious with me when I explained that I did it because I thought he expected it. So, I am asking you, what do you wish to do, not what do you think I would wish you to do?"

Ben’s thoughts flitted upstairs, to the book on the table beside his bed, and he looked his father in the eye. "I think I should like to go west, like the Corps of Discovery." He watched his father sit back, mouth agape. Obviously that had not been the answer Father had expected. "Of course, I can’t do that until I’m older. It’s not like anyone would take a boy with them."

Father apparently recovered from his shock, for he rolled his eyes. "No, I don’t suppose anyone would. What would you do to pass the time until you’re older?"

"I thought I might sail for a while, like John."

The next morning was cold. The first frost had come during the night, and Ben’s bed was farthest from the chimney. He snuggled deep under his blanket and tried to think warm thoughts. When his mother called up the stairs that he would be late for chores, Ben merely pulled his blanket over his head and rolled over. He ignored her second shout, but leapt from bed when Father called upstairs.

"I’m up!" Ben hurried to pull on his trousers. It wouldn’t do for Father to come upstairs and find Ben still in bed after Mother had called twice. Father’s method for rousting lazy slug-a-beds – his words, not Ben’s – was a decidedly painful way to begin a day.

Ben dashed some water on his face and tried to tame his hair. He sighed as he looked in the mirror and saw the curls sticking every which way. Father was going to tell him to get a hair cut, and then Father was going to chuckle and tell him that while Ben was at it, he should get all his hairs cut. Ben dunked his brush in the water jug and tried wetting the hair so it would stay in place. He sighed more loudly as he realized there was no way to keep the hair down. There’d be no postponing this haircut until Christmas time.

It wasn’t that Mother did a bad job on cutting hair, Ben thought gloomily as he trudged down the stairs. But he hated having his haircut, and Mother was never patient if he shifted his weight even slightly whilst sitting on the stool. She would scold, and if she were really upset, she would whack him with her spoon. Aunt May was so much more patient, and she never used a wooden spoon, at least not during haircuts.

Sure enough, Father made the comments about Ben’s hair, and Mother volunteered to cut it for him. Eddie snickered until Mother pointed out that as long as she was cutting Benjamin’s hair, she could do Edward’s as well. Both boys groaned when she promised to cut their hair right after they were done with chores.

Father chuckled as he sipped his coffee. "In case you two lads were thinking of dawdling over your chores so as to postpone the inevitable, you might be interested to know that I do not have to work this afternoon. I thought we might have a bit of an adventure, we Cartwright men." He winked at Mother as he pushed back his chair and stood. No amount of cajoling by the boys could get Father to say more. He merely shrugged and suggested that if chores were not done, or if hairs were not cut, there would be no adventure.

Both boys hurried out to the yard. Ben didn’t really think it was possible to call the small bit of land a yard, anyway. It was a strip of dirt only eight or so feet wide between the back of the house and the small barn that housed the Cartwright’s cow and some tools. Nothing like the yard that they had had in Plymouth, although they hadn’t owned that house either. Ben glanced to his left, to see if Eddie had already fed the chickens. Satisfied that his brother had already done that chore, he headed into the barn to clean the cow’s stall. Eddie was already in the stall fastening a rope to the cow’s halter. Ben was envious of his brother, for it was his turn today to take the cow to graze on the Common.

Eddie stopped at the stall’s entrance. "What’d Father do last night when he found out you’d been in trouble in school?" Eddie had fallen asleep before Ben had come to bed.

"He didn’t know I was in trouble until I said something." Ben looked around. "Where’d you leave the pitchfork?"

Eddie pointed to the far wall. "You told on yourself? I guess he didn’t thrash you, I didn’t hear nothing." He led the cow from the stall. "What’d he want then?"

"He wanted to know what I wanted to do when I was done with school this year. He said he could apprentice me if that’s what I wanted."

Eddie tugged on the cow’s rope. "Stupid thing, come on!" He gave another yank and the animal moved slowly toward the barn door. "Didja tell him about the Corps of Discovery?" He grinned as Ben nodded. "Bet ya didn’t tell him about Lizzie wanting to go, too."

Ben stepped toward his brother, menacing him with his pitchfork. "You’ve been eavesdropping."

Eddie smirked, and made kissing sounds, but when Ben stepped closer, he scowled. "Hey, watch it. That thing can hurt"

"You better hurry or I’ll jab your arse! Then you won’t want to sit and eavesdrop."

Eddie hurried to stand behind the cow. "Let Father hear you talk like that, and I won’t be the one who has trouble sitting."

Ben watched his brother leave before turning back to clean the stall. The barn was dark, and Ben glanced wistfully toward the lantern, wishing he could light it. But Father had made it very clear that any boy who sparked a flame in the barn could expect a very severe punishment. He had repeatedly reminded his sons that the houses in Boston were very close together, and that a fire in one yard could quickly spread and engulf the entire neighborhood. It had happened before, when his grandfather’s father was a boy.

While he worked, Ben thought about what Eddie had said. True, Liz Stoddard was the person who first piqued Ben’s interest in the Corps of Discovery, and of going west, but she wasn’t the reason he wanted to go, even if she did want to go, too. He jabbed at the dirty hay. Eddie and those stupid noises. It’s not like Ben had kissed Lizzie, or that he even wanted to. But he liked talking to her. They were interested in the same things, and she didn’t laugh at his ideas, the way his brothers did sometimes.

Funny that he hadn’t seen Liz since they moved to Boston. They saw each other every day when they were all on the Cape, he thought for sure that they’d see each other once in a while. Then again, he hadn’t realized how big Boston was.

He finished his chores, slowly stacking the wood and picking up the kindling. When he realized he could no longer delay the inevitable, he headed into the kitchen. Mother was closing the oven door, no doubt baking her bread for the day. The warmth of the fire felt good; Ben didn’t realize he was so chilled from the autumn air.

Mother smiled as he put the basket of kindling beside the fireplace. "Are you done with your chores?"

"Yes, Mother. I figured I’d better get the haircut over with."

Mother scowled. "You say that like I hurt you when I do your hair."

Ben nodded. "Yes, ma’am." He thought for a second. "I mean, no, ma’am. I, uh, I just don’t like getting my hair cut."

Mother shook her head as she pointed to the stool nearest the table while she picked up her shears and a cloth. "Take that outside, Benjamin. I don’t want to make a mess in the kitchen."

Ben followed his mother into the backyard and settled onto the stool. She draped the cloth over his shoulder and began to tug at his hair with her comb.

Ben sat as still as he could, considering it felt like his hair was being ripped out by its roots. He knew from experience that it would get worse before it got better. He decided if he distracted his mother, she might be gentler.

"Mother, I wonder why we haven’t seen the Stoddards since we moved to Boston."

"Hmmm?" Another tug brought tears to Ben’s eyes. Maybe distracting her wasn’t a good thing.

"It’s just I was hoping to see Li…I mean, I thought perhaps we’d see Mrs. Stoddard and her daughter."

Mother stopped pulling on his hair. "Didn’t you see enough of Liz this summer? From what Aunt May wrote, you saw her every day. She said you and Edward and Liz were inseparable."

Ben shrugged and immediately regretted the movement when Mother nicked his ear with the shears.

"Hold still, Benjamin."

"I guess we saw her a bit." Ben licked his lips "I, uh, felt sorry for her, on account of there are no girls her age near her aunt’s house."

"Sorry for her?"

Something in Mother’s tone told Ben that she didn’t quite believe him and he decided to change the topic. "What do you think Father’s surprise will be?"

"If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?" Mother’s tone was amused. "Now hold still! I’m almost done."

Ben survived his haircut with only a few nicks on his ears and neck, and by the time she was done, Eddie was home.

Mother sent Ben in to check the bread and to stir the soup; when he stepped outside to let her know that the bread was done, he was surprised to see Father standing beside her.

It was a treat for Father to have a Saturday afternoon free. This was the first such Saturday since coming to Boston, and he looked as excited as the boys when they set out on their adventure after lunch. Mother declined their invitation to join them, declaring that she would rather read in the parlor while the house was quiet.

Ben struggled to match his father’s long stride; Eddie practically ran beside his older brother. Both boys badgered Father with questions until the man finally stopped and turned to face his sons.

"No, I will not tell you where we are going. Yes, I wish to surprise you. Yes, I know that Faneuil Hall and the market are to the left, but that is not where we are going. Perhaps if we have time, we can go there later, and mayhap I shall take you to the docks." Father’s smile belied his cross tone and he wrapped one arm around each boy. "Now, then, let us continue."

They walked for ten minutes or so when Father stopped in front of a brick building. "Do you boys know what this building is?" When neither boy answered, Father said, "This is the Old State House. The spot on which we are standing is the very spot in which the Boston Massacre took place." Father pointed to the balcony on the front of the building. "Do you see that? My father and Uncle John stood here and listened while the Declaration of Independence was read from that balcony for the first time on July 18, 1776, and they were here that night, when the lion and the unicorn statues were ripped down and burned."

Ben stared at the balcony for several moments after Father and Eddie moved on. He was surrounded by history in Boston. Everywhere he turned was a spot on which a famous person had stood, or some notable event had taken place. Father reveled in telling the boys the history of the city, which in so many ways was tied with the history of his own family. Ben admitted that he enjoyed the stories, but sometimes he felt that he was suffocating in the past. Maybe that was why he wanted to go west, to make history, not to hear about it.

"Benjamin!"

Ben shook himself from his reveries and looked up. Father and Eddie were half a block away, and Father stood with his hands on his hips. Ben raced to catch up, stopping only when he stood in front of his father.

"Sorry, Father. I was thinking."

Eddie snickered. "Hear that, Father? Ben was thinking!"

Father’s hand on Ben’s chest stopped the boy from lunging at his brother. "That joke is older than me, I think. C’mon boys, let’s keep going. We’re almost there."

‘There’ turned out to be an imposing marble building. Both boys stopped short as Father walked through the opening in the stonewall that separated the building from the road.

"Boston Athen…What’s that word, Ben?"

Ben shrugged. "Athenaeum. I don’t know what it is, though."

Father laughed. "If you boys will come with me, I think I can answer your questions."

They followed Father through the front door, their footsteps echoing on the marble floor. Ben almost knocked Eddie over as he plowed into his brother. Eddie had stopped in the middle of the huge room, his mouth agape as he stared at the walls lined with bookcases; every shelf was filled with books.

"Gol-ly!"

Eddie’s voice echoed around the room, and Father touched his finger to his lips. "No talking above a whisper here, lads. Wait a moment, I’ll be right back."

Eddie and Ben continued to look around the room until Father returned. He led the two boys to a table in the corner of the room. When they sat down, he leaned close to his sons.

"This is the Boston Athenaeum. It is a library, and we have become members. This means we are allowed to borrow the books that are in this room."

Ben almost laughed at the look on his brother’s face. Eddie loved books, and he had read most of Father’s books already. Judging by the gaping mouth and wide eyes, Eddie was ready to work his way through this collection, too. Ben had to admit that the idea of having new books to read appealed to him, even if he wasn’t as scholarly as Eddie.

Father gestured toward the shelves and told the boys they could each pick a book, but before Ben could go look, Father stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

"Find a book that Mother can read to us in the evening, won’t you, Benjamin? And also pick a book for yourself."

Ben nodded before quickly adding "Yes, Father."

A short while later Ben joined his father at a table near the front desk. Father held out his hand and Ben gave him the two books. "The Irving book is for Mother to read. The other is mine, if it’s all right."

"The Sketchbook of Geoffrey Crayon by Washington Irving." Father looked up at Ben. "We haven’t read this yet?"

"No, sir."

Father nodded and turned his attention to the other book. "Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus" by Mary Shelley. I can’t say I am familiar with her name." He grinned at his son. "Are you sure you want to read a book by a girl?"

Ben squirmed a little before he pointed to the book. "I looked at it; it doesn’t seem like a book a girl would like."

Father’s grin grew wider. "All right. But we’d better go fetch Edward. I think if we leave it to him, he’ll be here all night."

The man behind the desk questioned Father about the choices the boys had both made, for Eddie had chosen a collection of John Locke’s works. Father merely shrugged and said that he allowed his sons to make their choice. If the books proved to be too difficult, the boys would learn to make better choices in the future.

When they left the building, Eddie skipped ahead, the precious book clutched close to his breast. Ben turned to his father.

"Are we allowed to come alone, Father?" The Athenaeum was technically outside their boundaries, unless they were taking the cow to the Common.

Father nodded. "I think so. But I cannot guarantee the librarian will allow you to borrow what you wish if I am not there. If he says no, I expect you to be respectful and choose another." Father placed an arm around Ben’s shoulder. "Now, as Edward has chosen to run ahead, I wish to speak to you about Elizabeth Stoddard."

Ben stopped in his tracks and stared up at his father. The man looked down at him, his face unreadable, and Ben quickly squirmed under his father’s gaze. He vowed to pound Eddie for telling tales just as soon as he got his brother alone.

Father’s next words startled Ben, for the boy would have sworn he had not spoken aloud. "Edward has said nothing to me. Your mother mentioned it, and both Uncle John and Aunt May spoke to me the last time we were at the Cape." He raised his hand to silence Ben’s protestations of innocence. "I know you haven’t done anything wrong, Benjamin. But I wish to remind you of the behavior I expect from you when you are around young ladies."

Ben blushed furiously, and he wished he could sink into the cobblestones. He looked down. "I know how to behave, Father."

Father forced Ben’s chin up. "Knowing and doing are two different things, son, especially when women are involved." To Ben’s surprise, his father smiled. "They have a way of confusing a man, making him forget his name even." Father’s smile faded. "But a young man must always act like a gentleman. And a gentleman is never alone with a lady."

"Aww, Father, it’s not like I get to see her much."

"Benjamin!" Father’s stern tone startled Ben. "I will not tolerate your disobedience on this. And when I have finished with you, Captain Stoddard will have a thing or two to say, I am sure. I’ll have your word that you won’t try to be alone with Miss Stoddard."

Ben sighed before he looked into his father’s shimmering blue eyes. "You have my word, Father. I won’t disappoint you."

Father’s smile returned. "I have every faith in you, son. Now, let’s catch up to your brother."

December 1820

Ben leaned back and hoped the rocking of the stagecoach would lull him to sleep. He hated riding with his back to the horses, for it made him feel ill, but Father insisted that Ben sit beside Mother, and she was sitting behind the driver. Father himself was on the other side of Mother, and Eddie was sitting next to Ben, by the window. Ben had thought it a great injustice that he, the older brother, was not given the window seat, but one look at Father’s face had convinced Ben not to pursue the matter.

This trip had been pure misery. Eddie had managed to annoy Ben almost every minute since they had left Boston that morning. He had tripped Ben before they got on the stage, and Ben had been the one scolded for clumsiness. Then Eddie had hummed off key for the better part of an hour, not loud enough so that an adult would hear, but loud enough to aggravate Ben. When Eddie sneezed, he was sure to face Ben every time. Eddie fidgeted and pushed into Ben, claiming more of the seat than he was due, but when Ben complained, Mother told him to hush.

Finally Ben closed his eyes and had almost drifted to sleep when a sharp jab in his left side caused him to jump.

"Benjamin." Mother’s remonstrance was soft.

"I’m sorry, Mother. Eddie startled me, that’s all." Ben glanced at the old woman sitting across from him and imagined she clucked her tongue at him in disapproval. She should be clucking at Eddie, he had been causing problems for the past half hour, kicking the seat, wiggling, making rude noises.

Father leaned forward to look at both boys. "I expect you both to be on your best behavior, Benjamin, Edward."

Ben started to protest that he was the wronged party, but thought better of it. Father hated stage travel, but sailing to Cape Cod in winter could be problematic, or so Father said. Ben wasn’t sure sailing would be so much worse than Father’s mood whenever they went by stage. He had learned years ago to be quiet and obey his parents quickly, lest the stagecoach seat be made even more uncomfortable.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Eddie grin and he winced as his brother jabbed him again in the side. "Eddie, cut it out."

"I didn’t do anything. Father, Ben’s trying to get me in trouble."

Ben felt his mother’s hand on his knee and he turned to her. She shook her head slowly.

"Edward, I saw you poke Benjamin."

Ben tried not to gloat as his brother shrank into the seat. He shouldn’t be pleased that Eddie had been caught in a lie, but Eddie had been so annoying the entire trip that Ben couldn’t help himself.

Whatever Father had been about to say was lost as the stagecoach shuddered to a stop and the door was unceremoniously thrown open. A man leaned through the doorway.

"Stoppin’ for the night." The man turned slightly toward Ben’s mother and he tipped his hat. "Got lodgings for the Cartwright family." The stranger stepped away as Father rose from his seat and hurried off the stage so that he could help Mother and the other ladies disembark.

Ben and Eddie had to wait until all the adults had disembarked and by the time they finally stepped down, the last of the other passengers had hurried onto a waiting wagon or buggy, leaving only the Cartwrights to stay at the inn. Ben recognized the place; he had stayed there once before at the end of last summer.

"Benjamin?"

"Yes, Father?"

Father nodded toward the building. "Do you remember this inn? Good. Please escort your mother inside and get the key to our room. I wrote ahead, so you shall have no problem. Our luggage will be taken there presently." Father gripped Eddie by the arm. "Master Edward and I will join you in due time."

Ben watched his father and brother for a moment before he offered his arm to his mother. She smiled slightly before taking it, and the two Cartwrights walked up the hill to the inn. Lights glowed through curtains on the second floor, and candles in all the windows gave welcome to weary travelers.

Ben was surprised when his mother stepped back as they approached the desk. She gave him a little push, and reminded him that his father had asked that he, Benjamin, get the key. He stood a little taller as he signed the register and took the key from the clerk, a youth not much older than himself.

Mother and son settled themselves into the small room. While his mother checked the bed, Ben pushed the luggage against the wall so that he and Eddie would have room to sleep on the floor After making sure his mother had everything she needed, he stood by the window, gazing to the yard below. He could hear Mother’s skirts rustle as she stood beside him.

"Benjamin, come away from the window."

Ben didn’t move his hand away from the curtain. "I’m just looking for Father and Eddie."

Mother pulled Ben’s hand away. "I do not believe your father would like to know you have been spying on his private conversations with your brother."

"Aw, I didn’t see them." The young man shrugged as he allowed himself to smile. "And it’s not like I don’t know what kind of discussion they’re having."

Mother grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. "It’s a wise boy that learns from his brother’s mistakes, Benjamin. Angering your father when he is traveling is not wise."

Ben tried to jerk his chin away from his mother’s hand, but she held firm until he nodded slightly. When she let go, he turned toward the bed so he wouldn’t have to look at her. Mother in a temper could be as formidable as Father.

Ben didn’t think he had spoken aloud, but apparently he had. He winced at his mother’s sharp tone.

"What did you say, young man?"

He turned to face her, not wishing to add to his disrespect by keeping his back to her. "Nothing, Mother." Ben shook his head and hoped she would let the subject drop, but she crossed the short distance between them and stood inches from him.

"I will not ask you again, Benjamin."

Ben began to recognize his predicament. "I’m sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again."

Mother raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. She tilted her head back slightly and looked at her son from the bottom of her eyes. She waited.

Ben shifted his weight from one foot to another, and he ducked his head. "I said, Eddie’s gettin’ what he deserved." He looked up to see Mother’s reaction. Her hands were on her hips and she was frowning. "Well, you didn’t have to sit next to him today." Ben shrugged meekly.

To Ben’s surprise, Mother smiled slightly. "Poor Benjamin. It’s not easy being the mature brother, is it?"

Ben blushed furiously at Mother’s teasing. "I guess when you say it like that…" He scuffed his foot lightly on the floor. "I’ll mind my business."

She reached out and caressed his cheek. "That’s my young man." She brushed a loose hair from her forehead. "Now, please go downstairs and ask that our supper be sent up. I am too weary to sit in the common room tonight.

Ben nodded and hurried to do her bidding, feeling guilty that he had caused her grief when she was unwell. When he reached the common room, the same young man who had given Ben the register to sign was standing inside the door. Ben explained what he needed, and the man bustled away. A woman returned a few minutes later with a tray of food and drink.

"You sure you can carry this?" She looked doubtful.

"Yes, ma’am." He held out his hands to take the tray from her. She shrugged and handed it to him.

Ben thanked her and turned back toward the stairs. He was so surprised to see his father and brother behind him that he almost dropped the tray. Father smiled slightly.

"Is everything set with the room? Have you been helping Mother?"

Ben felt his face grow warm, and he looked down in hopes that Father wouldn’t notice. He nodded but Father said nothing. Ben looked up quickly, and answered, "Yes, sir. She, ah, said she was too tired to eat in the common room, so I have fetched our supper."

Father’s eyes narrowed but he said nothing as he gestured for Ben to precede them on the stairs.

Mother had a side table cleared for the tray and she set about dishing the stew into the bowls.

"Edward will not be joining us for supper this evening." Father’s tone was sharp, and Ben stole a look at his brother. He had noticed when they were downstairs that Eddie’s eyes were red and now his brother kept his eyes downcast. Father cleared his throat and Eddie looked up.

"Uh, I’m sorry, Mother for my falsehood." Eddie glanced at Father, who waited none too patiently. "I’m sorry, Ben, for annoying you." That last bit was spoken quickly, and Ben sympathized. He hated apologizing to his brothers, too. Father nodded and pointed toward the blankets.

Ben and his parents ate in silence while Eddie crawled into the makeshift bed. Father must have really lit into Eddie, and Ben resolved to get into no trouble on the trip.

As soon as they were done eating, Ben carried the tray and dirty dishes downstairs. The same woman who had given him the tray was waiting in the common room to take it from him. Behind her, Ben could see men drinking and laughing, and he longed to stay and listen to the stories he knew they were telling. But Father’s instructions had been explicit. Deliver the tray and return to the room, and no dilly-dallying.

By the time Ben returned to the room, his parents had both readied themselves for bed, and he quickly did the same. Mother smiled as she bent over her sons to kiss them goodnight. She did that every night; Ben pretended to be embarrassed, but he secretly enjoyed it.

Ben lay on the blankets near the stone chimney. Eddie had fallen asleep even before Ben had returned the tray, but Ben didn’t feel tired. He saw Father blow out the lamp and he heard the bed creak as his parents slipped under the blankets. He felt, rather than heard, Eddie roll over, and Ben held tight to the blankets, knowing full well that his brother would steal them before the night was out.

"I hate stage travel." Father’s voice was low, and Ben could hear the man’s exhaustion. "But I hate it more when one of the boys misbehaves on the stage."

"I know, my love. And I reminded Benjamin of that, too."

Ben held his breath, waiting to hear what Father would say.

"I thought he looked guilty, when I saw him downstairs." Father sighed deeply. "Why was it necessary for you to remind him?"

"He was looking out the window, hoping to see you and Edward."

To Ben’s surprise, Father chuckled. "No doubt hoping to see his brother ‘get his.’ I remember doing the same thing more than once, when Charlie or Will got into trouble with Uncle John." Father chuckled again. "I didn’t spank Edward, although the boy deserved it."

"Oh?"

The bed creaked. "No. I was tired and cross, and it wouldn’t have been fair to punish the boy when I felt that way. Mind you, I burned his ears for him, and I warned him I would not look favorably on one hint of mischief during the trip tomorrow."

Ben couldn’t believe his ears. Eddie had caused trouble the entire day and he had lied to Mother, and all he got was a lecture. Eddie was without doubt the most spoiled boy that Ben knew. He was sure that had he misbehaved, Father would not have hesitated to punish him. Ben rolled so his back was toward his brother, and he gave the blankets a fierce tug. Eddie could shiver for all he cared.

Ben woke early the next morning. Eddie had managed to steal the blankets, despite Ben’s efforts to keep hold of them during the night. Too cold to sleep, Ben sat up, momentarily confused by his strange surroundings. A noise caught his attention and he turned. Father was standing by the bed, buttoning up his trousers.

Ben scrambled to his feet when Father beckoned him. He leaned close, and when Father whispered that Ben should get dressed, he hurried to pull on his own trousers and button his shirt. Neither spoke again until Father closed the door softly behind him.

"What are you smirking at, Benjamin?" Father pretended to be annoyed, but Ben saw the smile lurking. He grinned.

"Mother would scold you for stepping out of the room without your tie or jacket, sir."

Father laughed softly as he guided Ben toward the stairs. "I’m afraid your mother has given up making me a Beau Brummel."

"Sir?"

"A man of fashion, Benjamin. I have never been one for buying new clothes simply because my old clothes are no longer in style. Seems a waste of money." Father looked down. "You disagree?"

Ben shook his head. "No, sir, but I wear what Mother tells me I should."

Father nodded as the two walked into the tavern room. "A wise choice indeed, Benjamin."

The room was nearly empty; two men sat at a table and the servant who gave Ben the tray the night before was busy stacking mugs on the sideboard. Ben and his father sat on a deacon’s bench near the fire.

Ben was surprised when his father ordered a cup of coffee for himself, and a cup of hot chocolate for Ben. Hot chocolate was a rare treat, and Ben reveled in the fact that he, not Eddie, was sitting next to Father in a tavern room drinking. Father was certainly in a better mood than he had been the day before.

They sipped in silence for a few minutes until finally Ben spoke.

"Father, may I ask you something?"

Father looked down at Ben. "I hope you may always ask me questions, Benjamin."

"Yes, sir." Ben crossed one leg over the other, and rested his cup on his knee. "I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but I was wondering something." He waited until Father gestured for him to continue. "It’s, just, well, I don’t think you like stage travel very much, so I was wondering why we go to the Cape every Christmas."

Father sipped his coffee for so long that Ben worried he had offended his father. But finally the man set his cup down on the end table and turned to Ben.

"Do you not enjoy the Cape?"

Ben shook his head. "No, sir, I mean, yes, sir, I enjoy it very much."

Father nodded gravely. "I thought as much." He raised a hand to catch the servant’s attention, and after she had refilled his cup, and he had requested a second cup of chocolate, he sat back. "We spend Christmas at the Cape because it is important to Uncle John and to Aunt May." He crossed his leg and sat in a pose very similar to his son’s. "You know, of course, that when my father died, Uncle John took me in to raise as his own. He didn’t have to. He could have sent me to an orphanage, or sent me to work on some farm, and people would have understood. After all, he had three sons of his own, and he was not a wealthy man. But he did not, because that is not what Cartwrights do. We look after our own."

Ben nodded earnestly. The importance of family had been drummed into him since he had first understood what the word family meant.

Father picked up his cup again. "God does not tell us how many years we have on this earth, son, and I do not know how many more visits I shall have with my uncle. My sacrifice of riding in a stagecoach, if indeed I can even call it a sacrifice, is nothing compared to the gifts my uncle and aunt have given me. I think you can understand that, Benjamin."

The young man nodded slowly, but said nothing as his father rose. "Finish your chocolate. Time to roust your mother and brother so we may eat breakfast before we leave."

The stage rolled into Eastham in the late afternoon, and Uncle John was waiting with his wagon to take them to the Three Sisters. Father helped Mother into the wagon while the boys loaded the baggage into the back before climbing in and seating themselves behind the adults.

"You’re looking well, Kit." Uncle John urged the horses on with a flick of the reins.

"Thank you, Uncle. Really, I’m feeling much better." Mother tucked the blanket under her legs and pulled her coat close against the cold.

"Well, May is ready to spoil you, so be prepared. She’ll not let you lift a finger whilst you’re here."

Aunt May never let Mother do any work, Ben thought idly.

"And you, boy, how is Boston suiting you?" For a moment, Ben thought that Uncle John was talking to him, so he was surprised to hear Father respond.

"Very well, sir." Father rested his arm around Mother’s shoulders. "It’s a good shop, and I’m given the freedom to run it. The Captain was right about that."

"Abel is usually right, though I’ll thank you for not telling him I said so." Uncle John glanced over his shoulder. "And you two? How do you find Boston?"

Eddie grinned. "We like it very much, Uncle John. Lots of books!"

The old man laughed. "Have you managed to stay out of trouble, Ben?"

Ben shrugged. "Mostly."

Father looked toward his uncle. "The boys have had some problems remembering their boundaries for exploration, but they’ve learned that when their father manages a chandlery, he has many acquaintances who frequent the docks."

Uncle John laughed again. "They wouldn’t be your sons, Joe, if they didn’t test the limits now and again. But I trust you’ve set them straight."

Father nodded. "We’ve come to an understanding."

That understanding had left Ben and Eddie uncomfortable for several days, but it hadn’t ended their explorations. Fortunately Father didn’t know that.

Uncle John snorted. "Is that what you call it, an understanding? But, here we are."

Ben’s heart gave a leap as Uncle John stopped the wagon in front of the house and he jumped from the wagon, Eddie close on his heels.

"Boys?" Father had climbed down and was helping Mother from her seat. "Bags inside first, and greet Aunt May. Then you may explore ‘til supper."

"She’s in the kitchen, lads, and there might be a bit of a treat for you." Uncle John’s words were all the boys needed to hurry and bring the bags inside and to the rooms waiting for them.

By the time they reached the kitchen, Mother and Father were already greeting Aunt May. Ben stood by his brother in the doorway and took a deep breath.

"Snickerdoodles!"

Aunt May turned, hands on hips, and scowled at Ben. "Is this how I am to be greeted? Is my name now ‘snickerdoodle’?" Ben crossed the room, his arms outstretched.

"I’m sorry, Aunt May. But your snickerdoodles are the envy of Massachusetts, or didn’t you know that?" He bent to kiss her cheek and to return her hug.

Aunt May rolled her eyes as she turned to Mother. "A charmer that one is, just like his father. Kit, I don’t know how you live with them all under the one roof."

Father grinned as Mother slapped his arm.

"I don’t either, Aunt May." Mother wagged her finger at Ben while Aunt May smacked Father’s hand as he reached for the cookies.

"Those are for supper, Joseph, and the next time I see you’re trying for one, I’ll get my spoon out." Ben could see she was struggling to look stern. When he laughed, she turned back to him.

"Goodness, boy, but you’re taller even than you were this past summer."

He ducked his head and looked at her from the tops of his eyes. "I’m a growing boy, Auntie. That’s why I need that cookie."

"Go on with you, boy." She looked past Ben, toward Eddie. "And are you not going to plead for a cookie?"

"Not until I’ve said hello to my favorite auntie." Eddie crossed the room and kissed Aunt May on the cheek.

"Another one! Take your cookies and then go on, the three of you, outside! I’ve had enough of the Cartwright boys for a while. Let me visit with Kit alone."

Ben was surprised to see Tom standing outside talking with Uncle John. Apparently Father wasn’t expecting his cousin, either, for he gave a whoop of delight. The three adults were quickly catching up on news, pausing only long enough to give the two boys permission to walk along the cliff.

"Don’t be late for supper, lads, or your aunt will have your hides."

"We won’t, Uncle John." The two boys raced toward the cliff, only to stop short at the edge. They assumed a more leisurely pace, walking in silence, stopping only to look out at the ocean.

The water was hard to see in the gathering gray of twilight, but Ben didn’t need to see the ocean. The pounding of the waves and the smell of the salt were as familiar to him as his own name. He sighed deeply.

"Something wrong, brother?"

Ben was startled when Eddie spoke, but he quickly shook his head. "No. I just like being here."

Eddie reached down to pick up a stone. He threw it toward the water, but they were too far away, and it landed short. "I know what you mean. But I keep expecting to see John."

Ben nodded and turned back to the water. He loved the ocean in winter, the churning foam, and the sound filling his ears that made him feel at home. He doubted he could live far from the ocean.

"Hello, lads."

Both boys jumped at the sound behind them.

"Charlie!" Eddie threw himself at Father’s cousin. Ben grinned at the sight of Charlie Cartwright. He was one of the boys’ favorite adults, for he scarcely seemed to be an adult. He joked and teased, and he never admonished the boys to behave themselves. He was one of the few adults the boys were allowed to address by first name. Best of all, Father was more indulgent when Charlie was around.

"We weren’t expecting you, Charlie." Ben laughed as the man slapped him on the back.

"No one was, lad." Charlie grinned. "I’m a Christmas surprise. C’mon, let’s go to the house before Tom spoils it." He leaned toward the boys. "He never was good at keeping things from Father."

Tom managed to keep the secret, and everyone was surprised to see Charlie. Ben thought he saw a glimmer in Aunt May’s eyes when Uncle John toasted the surprise Christmas reunion during supper. He knew that Mother was thinking of John, and he guessed that Aunt May’s thoughts were wandering to Will, but no one was going to spoil the mood by mentioning those who were absent.

The day before Christmas Eve was clear and sunny, and Uncle John told the boys to run and play on the beach for the morning, and to let their parents sleep.

"But stay in sight of the lighthouses, and stay out of the water. I’d hate to have to wear you out so close to Christmas."

Ben tried to not roll his eyes, but judging by his great-uncle’s scowl, he wasn’t successful.

"Go on with you, impudent boy, before I decide I need help in the lighthouses."

That was all the boys needed to hear and they ran off in case Uncle John wasn’t joking. Both had spent more time than they’d liked hauling whale oil to each of the Three Sisters.

The brothers headed for the edge of the cliff, and shimmied down the rough ladder that Uncle John had built to get onto the beach. As they raced down the sand, they discovered a wreck of an old ship, no doubt exposed by an early winter storm. They spend the rest of the morning exploring the wooden skeleton, only slightly disappointed to find no pirate treasure chest. The distant sound of a clanging bell attracted their attention, and Eddie pointed to the sky.

"It’s noon. That’s Aunt May calling us for dinner."

Aunt May was standing, arms folded, staring as the boys raced toward her. "There you are. I thought I was going to have to send your father after you."

Ben puffed a bit, somewhat out of breathe from his climb. "No, ma’am. We came as soon as we heard the bell." He brushed some sand off his thick sweater.

She smiled then. "I know you did. I was teasing." She opened the door. "I’ve got a good fish stew. You boys wash up now."

They did as they were told and slid into their seats moments before Uncle John said grace. Ben stared at his stew; his great-aunt and uncle ate a lot of fish, and normally Ben didn’t mind, but this stew was different. It was made from dried cod and Ben had seen enough of that when he and his brothers had to tend the fish flakes. He had developed an aversion to dried cod ever since.

"Ben, is something wrong?" Aunt May’s voice startled Ben and he stared.

"Ma’am?"

"You’re not eating. Is something wrong with your stew?"

He wanted to say that he hated cod stew, but he felt Father’s eyes on him, and he knew what Father’s reaction would be. "No, Aunt May. I, uh, I was thinking about the old wreck that Eddie and I found on shore." Ben squirmed as he was sure Father saw through his falsehood, but Ben avoided looking at either parent. "May I have some milk?" At least that would help wash down the stew.

But Aunt May shook her head, as he knew she would. "Milk will fill you up so you can’t finish your dinner."

"Benjamin." Father spoke softly, but there was no mistaking his tone.

Ben glanced over at the man, nodded slightly and picked up his spoon. He ate as quickly as he dared, being careful to not slurp or spill. Both Father and Mother were stricter at Aunt May’s and Uncle John’s than they were at mealtimes at home, for, as he once overheard Mother saying, the boys’ table manners were reflections of how they were raised. Neither Aunt May nor Uncle John cared about manners when Mother and Father weren’t around, unless of course the brothers became too rambunctious, but all three boys had learned at a young age that Father cared, greatly.

Fortunately for Ben, the adults ignored the boys and talked about Tom’s latest voyage. Ben ate his stew, washing it down with water as often as he dared. He had just finished the last of his bowl when the meal was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Uncle John excused himself and hurried out of the dining room. Ben could hear the old man’s loud "Well, I’ll be blessed!" quickly followed by "Kit, your Christmas present is here!" Mother fairly flew from her chair when Uncle John came back into the room, followed by Captain Stoddard and Ben’s oldest brother, John.

"Let me look at you!" Mother alternated between hugging John tightly and holding him out at arm’s length. "You’ve grown taller." She hugged him again, and then reached up to brush her son’s hair from his eyes. "You’ll need a hair cut."

Ben and Eddie snickered as John rolled his eyes, but Mother was too busy hugging her eldest son to pay any of them any mind. Finally Father stood beside her.

"Kit, my love, perhaps someone else would like to greet John."

Ben didn’t have a chance to be alone with his brothers until the three of them were in bed that night. First Mother had fussed over John, and then John and Father had gone for a long walk, and then everyone had wanted to hear John’s stories. Captain Stoddard had not stayed any time at the house. He merely had told Father that he would return the next morning, and they could talk. He would, he had said, bring his family for a visit.

Ben’s ears had perked up at that. He hadn’t realized that Lizzie and her mother would be on the Cape for Christmas, and he had grinned at the thought of seeing Liz the next day. He hid his grin quickly, lest anyone see it, but Father had noticed, and had taken Ben aside to remind him how Ben was expected to act. Fortunately neither of his brothers had noticed Father and Ben talking.

The three brothers lay in bed – Ben in the bunk above John, Eddie on the single bed. John regaled his brothers with stories that he hadn’t dared tell in front of Mother – stories about learning to play cards from some of the sailors, trying whiskey when the Captain wasn’t around, swimming with dolphins far out to sea. Ben wasn’t sure he believed half of what his brother said, but he enjoyed the stories. Ben and Eddie, for their part, filled John’s ears with stories of life in Boston. Ben took special care to tell John that Mother was getting better and to assure his older brother that they were taking good care of her. The three talked until Father tapped on the door to tell them to sleep.

Christmas Eve day was colder than the day before, and Ben was aggravated with John, for his older brother insisted on spending the day in front of the fire, "doing nothing." Ben’s mood picked up considerably when the Stoddards arrived. Father and Captain Stoddard left almost immediately for a walk, while Mother and Aunt May whisked Mrs. Stoddard to the kitchen. Before the women could disappear, though, Ben asked for permission to go skating with Eddie and Liz.

Liz had never been skating before, but she caught on quickly. The three had a grand time skating over the kettle pond, only stopping when Father and the Captain found them. Father was angry to find them in the woods with Liz and no adults, and Ben scrambled to explain that they had Mother’s permission to be so far from the house, and to be showing Liz how to skate. Christmas Eve or no, Ben knew what the consequences would be if Father didn’t believe him.

Fortunately for Ben, Father did believe him, and to the boys’ surprise, even joined them on the ice. Liz sat on a rock with her father while the Cartwrights played bandy – the two boys against their father. Despite being outnumbered, Father had the distinct advantage, or he did until Eddie accidentally slammed into Father, sending the man flying back. Father lay on the ground, winded, while Eddie hovered over him. Ben stayed back, not wanting any part of what he knew would happen next.

Sure enough, as Eddie leaned closer to be sure that Father had not sustained permanent damage, Father quickly grabbed Eddie with one hand, and crammed snow down the front of Eddie’s shirt with the other. The snow flew as Eddie hollered for Ben to join him, and soon all three were rolling around in the snow.

Finally, after one last snowball in Ben’s face, Father called a stop to the game. "If one of you gets hit in the face with a skate, or if we catch our death, Mother will be angry with me." He looked down at Ben and winked. "I’d rather not risk your mother’s ire today. I understand she wields a fierce wooden spoon."

Ben nodded slowly as he pulled off his skates. "Yes, sir, so Eddie’s told me. I wouldn’t know from my own experience, of course."

Father guffawed at that as Ben ducked Eddie’s snowball. He looked over his shoulder. "Did you hear that, Abel? Benjamin never gets into trouble."

"Indeed? Then I look forward to him sailing with me next summer."

Startled, Ben spun toward Father. Father nodded. "The Captain is agreeable that you should sail with him, Benjamin, if you are still so inclined." He brushed snow from his sleeve. "It might be prudent if we do not mention this to your mother just yet. I will talk to her when the time is right."

Ben was very happy to leave that conversation to his father. Mother would not be well pleased that another son was heading to sea, but she would still have Eddie. His youngest brother had already told Ben that he had no intention of going to sea; he confided to Ben that his deepest desire was to attend college some day. But, if he could not do that, he would be content to be a merchant.

Ben lay in bed that night thinking that Christmas could not get any better. He was going to go sailing next summer, he had spent the day with Lizzie and she and her family had joined the Cartwrights for Christmas Eve dinner. True, Eddie had been the one to find the penny in the pudding, but Ben wasn’t sure if his brother had felt particularly lucky. Ben had almost laughed aloud at the look on Eddie’s face when his younger brother had realized he had swallowed the coin, and he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation to lean over and tell his brother, "Well, you’ve still got it, you’ll just have to wait a while to spend it." Glory, that spoon had hurt when Aunt May had cracked it over Ben’s head! But Father had laughed, and Captain Stoddard had even winked at him.

Christmas itself was a quiet day. Uncle John read from the Bible, and the boys opened their small gifts – new scarves and mittens from Aunt May, a few coins from Uncle John, oranges from Charlie and Tom and a book each from Father and Mother. Captain Stoddard came in the late morning to fetch John, and the rest of the day was spent exploring the beach with Father and his cousins.

Ben woke before dawn the next morning. The moon had not yet set, and Ben could see the ring around it. It would snow, and soon. Sure enough, when dawn did come, it brought to mind Uncle John’s favorite weather rhyme. "Red sky in morning, sailors take warning." Ben hurried outside to help the men with the chores. Father told Ben and Eddie to chop wood and get as much into the house as they could, but the brothers hadn’t been at it too long when the wind whipped up. Father took the ax from Ben, and told the boys to get the wood into the house. Ben was sure he had never seen Father swing an ax so quickly; it was all they could do to keep up with him. Charlie was nailing down the shutters on the barn. Uncle John and Tom were busy stringing ropes from the house to the lighthouses, for they would need to keep the lights burning bright when the storm came, and the ropes would be their lifeline to the lighthouses.

Ben heard Aunt May and Mother talking quietly when he brought wood into the kitchen. Aunt May was trying to convince Mother that the Wanderer was already in Boston, and that she needn’t worry about John. Captain Stoddard was an experienced sailor, Aunt May kept saying, and not one to risk the lives of his wife and daughter. Ben prayed Aunt May was right, but he had lived in New England all his life, and he knew how unforgiving the ocean was.

The storm hit shortly after the noon meal, and it howled around the small house all afternoon. The boys were forbidden to go outside and they quickly grew tired of being cooped up. Father and his cousins took turns helping Uncle John to check on the lights, and for once Ben wished he could haul oil up the winding stairs. At least it was something to do.

But for now he and Eddie were stuck trying to amuse themselves. The whole family was gathered in the parlor. Father and Tom, who had just come in from checking the lights, were seated near the fireplace, hunched over a game of chess. Uncle John and Charlie were reading, and Aunt May and Mother were closest to the fireplace, talking quietly as they knitted. Ben and Eddie were lying on the floor playing nine-man morris.

Ben made his move, certain he would win within another move or two. Eddie scowled at the board. "You’re cheatin’!"

"Aw, you just hate to lose." Ben glanced worriedly toward the adults.

Eddie swept the pieces from the board as he threw himself at Ben. "You’re cheatin’!"

Father fairly flew out of his chair and grabbed Eddie by the arm. Ben cringed at the sound of his father’s hand on his brother’s backside.

"That can be the first, or that can be the last. The choice is yours." Father gave Eddie a slight shake.

Ben felt sorry for his brother. Eddie’s face was flush with shame.

"The last, please. I’m sorry, sir, for my outburst."

Father pointed to the ground and stood, arms folded whilst Eddie picked up the game pieces.

"You need some time alone." Father escorted Eddie from the room and Ben could hear the two climb the steps.

"Glory, what a temper that boy has!"

Ben turned at Charlie’s voice, only to hear Tom laugh.

"Apple didn’t fall far from that tree, to be sure."

Charlie set the paper on his knee and turned to his father. "Did you ever hear of a boy saying he wanted a swat to be the first?"

Uncle John’s eyes flicked to Ben and he leaned toward the table to pick up his pipe. "I did, once." He shook his head. "’Oh, yes, sir. I’d love that to be the first.’ Said in as snot-nosed a tone as I ever heard from an eleven year-old." He scooped some tobacco from his pouch.

Tom and Charlie stared at each other and shook their heads at the same time. "Who was that stupid?"

"Let’s just say I’m glad my sons are smarter than I was." Father stepped into the room and winked at Ben. Ben stared, unable to picture his father being so disrespectful. He turned to his great-uncle.

"What did you do?"

Uncle John shrugged as he leaned forward to light a thin stick from the fire. "I obliged him."

Charlie and Tom hooted and even Uncle John smiled. Ben could hear Mother as she leaned toward Aunt May.

"That explains much about my sons."

Aunt May nodded as she dropped her ball of yarn into her basket. "Joe had his moments, to be sure."

Father shook his head as he lowered himself to the floor to sit by Ben. He took the black pieces, and pointed to Ben to take the first move.

"I’ll thank you to not fill my son’s head with tales of my supposed mischief."

"Would you listen to him! ‘My supposed mischief.’" Tom stood and refilled his glass with brandy. "Father, do you remember the time we were cutting the grass and Joe got the bright idea to make his work easier?"

Father moved a piece. "Boy’s heard that story already. You’ll have to try again if you wish to tell tales on me." He moved a piece to make a mill, and he took one of Ben’s pieces from the board.

Ben frowned at the board. He had been distracted by Tom and hadn’t noticed that Father had made the row of three. He was torn between wanting to win and wanting to hear more stories.

"What about the time he knew where the Whydah’s treasure was."

Ben had heard that story. He moved his piece and made a mill. He tried to not grin as he took Father’s piece. Father glared at Charlie.

"I wasn’t digging alone that day."

"Weren’t alone in the shed when Father found out, either." Tom smirked. "You were all in trouble that day."

Uncle John grunted. "Thomas, you make it sound like you were never in trouble."

Tom drained his glass and refilled it. "If I got into trouble, it was usually because of something the three of them did!"

Father took his turn before he looked at his cousin. "We got into trouble more than once because we listened to you." He pushed his hair from his eyes. "Seems to me that girls were usually involved."

Charlie sipped from his glass. "Joe, do you remember the time Tom made us pretend to be sick."

Tom moaned slightly as Father grinned, and Ben turned to Charlie. He could tell this was going to be a good story. Charlie settled back in his chair and winked at Ben.

"Tom was, oh, seventeen or so, and old enough to be left alone with the three of us, or so Father thought."

Uncle John coughed lightly. "I was mistaken."

Charlie smirked as he looked at his older brother. "Father had a friend in Brewster, a captain he had known in his sailing days. The plan was for Mother and Father to go visiting for a week. The mill was slow then, and Tom could manage. Of course, Father left strict instructions about how we were to help Tom, and that we were to stay out of mischief, and that if we did not help Tom, or if we did not stay out of mischief, we would regret it when Father returned."

Ben’s father laughed. "Pity for Tom that he wasn’t given the same instructions. Would have saved him some grief."

"Hush, Joe. Are you telling the story, or am I?"

Father waved toward his cousin. "Be my guest."

Charlie leaned forward, to be closer to Ben. "When Tom was seventeen, he thought himself quite the ladies’ man. He was always flirting with the girls, every chance he got."

Ben couldn’t picture his father’s oldest cousin flirting. The man was tall, his hair mostly gray. His face was worn from years of harsh sea breezes, and he walked with a slight limp.

"Mind you, lad, Tom did nothing improper." Ben fought the urge to roll his eyes at Father’s reminder. He had no wish to join Eddie in their cold room.

Charlie raised his eyebrow at Father’s interruption, and Ben blushed. Charlie made no further comment, but continued his story. "At this time, Tom was interested in two young ladies, both new to the area, and before he knew what he had done, he had asked them both to the church picnic. He was in a dilemma, and he knew it."

Tom slumped down in his chair, studying his hands. Ben wondered what had happened almost thirty years ago to warrant such a response from his normally unflappable cousin.

"He decided that if we were sick, he would not be able to attend the picnic. So he sent his regrets to the girls, to tell them that Joe and I were both quite ill. And because he knew they would be concerned, and would want to help him care for us, he told them we had some sort of infectious illness."

"Measles."

Ben snickered at Tom’s admission. Certainly measles would keep people away.

"Yes, it was measles. The girls each sent word – separately, of course – that they understood, and that they were touched at his thoughtful care-giving, or some such sappy sentiment." Charlie chuckled. "And so Tom was off the hook, or so he thought. Everyone would stay away if they knew we had the measles."

"Almost everyone." Father was laughing so hard that Ben had trouble understanding him.

"You weren’t laughing then, Joseph, or have you forgotten?"

Father looked sheepish at his uncle’s admonition. "I surely was not, Benjamin. You see, Uncle John wasn’t so far away that he did not hear news that his sons and nephew had contracted a possibly fatal disease. Not a day after Tom sent his note, we heard a wagon hurrying down the road. Uncle John and Aunt May had raced home."

"Raced home to find this foolishness." Uncle John sounded disgusted. "It was a good thing for the four of you that Tom was too old for a thrashing, for I was sorely tempted that day."

Charlie picked up his newspaper. "I remember thinking the thrashing wouldn’t have been as bad as the lecture and the weeks of chores afterward."

Father sat back in his chair and set up the chessboard. "We led you on a merry chase, didn’t we, Uncle?" He gestured for Tom to take the first move.

Uncle John chuckled. "I wouldn’t change a moment of it, Joseph, no more than you would now."

Ben stretched out and closed his eyes. He was drifting toward sleep when he heard Father’s voice, full of affection, agreeing. "No sir, not a moment."

May, 1821

"Ya think you’re so smart. We’re tired of you showin’ off for the teacher."

Ben heard Ephraim Dobson but he didn’t give the bully any thought until he heard Eddie’s querulous voice.

"I’m not showing off. I can’t help knowing what I know."

Ben hurried around the corner, only to find his brother backed against the wall, Dobson and his cousin Thomas blocking Eddie’s path.

The Dobson cousins were in Eddie’s grade, but they were as big as Ben, which meant they were a head taller and at least a stone heavier than the slight Eddie. Ben didn’t care for his brother’s odds if the Dobsons decided to start a fight. He glanced around, but no teacher was in sight.

"Leave my brother alone."

Ephraim Dobson didn’t even turn around. "Ooo, Tommy, it’s Benny Cartwright. I’m scared. We’d better stop teasing his widdle bwother." He poked Eddie in the chest.

"I said, leave him alone." Ben had a fleeting thought of Father’s admonition against fighting in school before he closed the distance between himself and the bullies in a few strides. Reaching out, he grabbed Tommy Dobson by the jacket collar. Catching the boy off guard, Ben was able yank Tommy and push him aside. He wasn’t so lucky with Ephraim, however. The younger boy landed a punch on Ben’s shoulder and almost knocked Ben off balance. Ben recovered quickly and he grunted in satisfaction as his fist made contact with the bully’s eye. Ben landed a few more punches, and had the pleasure of bloodying Ephraim’s nose before he felt himself grabbed from behind. He twisted around and saw he was held fast by a very angry headmaster.

"Cartwright. I should have known." The man’s tiny eyes narrowed even more.

"He started it, Headmaster. My cousin and I were talking to Edward, asking him for help on a math problem. Ben just came from no where and started pounding us." Ephraim moaned as he dabbed at his nose with the handkerchief proffered by Mr. Elias, the teacher of the youngest boys.

Ben started to protest, but the headmaster gave him a quick shake. "Hold your tongue, boy. We’ll send for your father, and then we’ll hear what you have to say for yourself."

Eddie gave Ben a sorrowful look as Mr. Elias shepherded Tommy and Eddie back toward the classroom. Ephraim grinned at Ben as they walked down the corridor, Ephraim to the washroom, and Ben to the school office.

Ben tried to focus on his surroundings, but he was only marginally aware when the headmaster shoved him toward a chair outside the man’s office. Father was going to kill him. Father was going to have his hide. Ben’s only prayer was that Father would wait until they got home before he thrashed Ben.

Ben slumped down in the chair, his hands dangling between his knees, his head bowed. He stifled a sigh and tried to block out the thought of Father’s anger, but the more he tried to block it, the more he could picture Father standing over him. He wasn’t sure how long he sat like that; the chimes that signaled the end of school sounded, but he paid them no mind.

Ben jumped at the sound of his father’s voice. Glancing up, he saw Father, hat in hand, standing by the clerk’s desk. The clerk looked back at Ben, and stood. Father followed the man to the headmaster’s door, and Ben cringed at the look Father directed toward him. Ben would be lucky indeed to get home before Father decided to punish him.

Ben strained to hear what was going on behind the closed door. He could hear Father’s voice, and then the headmaster’s. Someone crossed the room and Ben could hear Father say, "Now we’ll hear what my son has to say for himself." The door opened as the headmaster replied that the boy had broken the rules and he must be punished.

"Nonetheless, I will hear my son’s story first before I punish him." Father poked his head out the door and looked at Ben, who scrambled to his feet. Father stepped back to open the door further, and Ben hurried in. As Father closed the door, Ben stood straight, with his hands behind his back, his feet slightly apart.

"I am told, Benjamin, that you attacked two fellow students. Did you start the fight?"

Ben couldn’t read the expression on Father’s face, but he wasn’t deceived by Father’s conversational tone. He took a deep breath.

"Yes, sir, I did." Ben winced as his father stepped closer.

"Why?"

"They had backed Eddie against the wall, and they were threatening him."

Father tilted his head slightly as he continued to stare at Ben. "And you were defending him?"

"Yes, sir. The Dobsons are in his grade, but they’re almost my age and they’re as big as me."

Father nodded as he turned back to the headmaster. "Your message did not mention that my youngest son was being threatened."

The headmaster pushed his greasy hair away from his eyes. "The boy is lying, anyone can see that. He must be caned, those are the rules." The man pulled himself to his full height.

Father’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw ground to the right. That expression Ben could read, and he was glad it was not directed toward him. Father pointed toward Ben.

"My sons do not lie, Headmaster, they have been raised to know better. And if you ever cane one of my boys, I will wrap that cane around your neck. Am I clear?" Father towered over the man.

"There are school rules, Mr. Cartwright. Rules that must be enforced, and there must be consequences when a boy breaks the rules." His voice squeaked as he stepped away from Father.

"If my son breaks a rule, tell me. You may be sure he will suffer the consequences. But I will not fault him for defending his brother from two ruffians." Father turned toward the door before glancing back over his shoulder. "I suggest you look to the real culprits in this fight, Headmaster." Father jerked his head toward the door and Ben followed him out dutifully. Neither Cartwright spoke until they reached the street and Father turned to look at Ben anxiously.

"Are you hurt?"

Ben shrugged. "A bruise, maybe, but that’s all." He chewed on his lip as he looked anxiously up at his father. "Thank you, sir, for believing me."

Father put his arm around Ben and led the boy up the street. "You’ve not lied to me in a good while, Benjamin, not since you’ve learned better. And brothers should stand up for brothers."

Father must have felt Ben puff up at his words, for he stopped suddenly and turned to his son. "I don’t want you to think you should settle all your problems with your fists, Benjamin. I’ve punished you enough for fighting when you shouldn’t and I won’t hesitate to do so again, if necessary. But sometimes a man needs to stand up for some one or some thing, and he needs to be prepared to back up his words with force."

Ben nodded gravely. "Yes, sir, I understand."

Father patted Ben’s back. "Good boy. Now then, I must go back to the shop and you must go face your mother." He grinned at Ben’s wince. "She’ll fuss over you, but you may assure her you are uninjured." He thought a moment. "Please remind her that I will not be home for supper this evening, that I am going out with some ships’ captains. I don’t know what time I’ll be home, but she needn’t wait up. And Benjamin? I do not have to work tomorrow, so perhaps we should have an adventure, you and Edward and myself."

Ben’s grin split his face. "Yes, sir, I’d like that!"

Father was right, and Mother did fuss over Ben, but in truth he enjoyed it. Eddie had gotten home long before him, and had told her all that had happened. Mother was proud, she said, but she wasn’t surprised that Father had taken Ben’s side. After all, she said, Ben was a good boy.

Ben’s only regret was that Father didn’t come home before bedtime for he was anxious to thank Father again for believing him. As he lay in bed, he heard the front door open and he scrambled out of bed. The bedroom door squeaked slightly as he slowly opened it. As he crept down the stairs, he could hear Mother and Father in the parlor.

"Joe, you’ve been drinking." Ben didn’t recognize the tone in Mother’s voice, but it sounded like she was trying not to laugh.

Father’s words were slightly slurred. "Come and guess what I’ve been drinking."

Ben almost missed a step as Mother giggled. He had never heard his mother giggle like a schoolgirl. Then he heard nothing until she spoke again.

"Port?"

Ben wondered how she had known.

"Clever Kitten."

Kitten? Ben had never heard his father call Mother that.

"Joe, really! What if the boys were to come down?"

Ben froze, worried they might hear him. But Mother sounded more amused than concerned – in fact, Ben thought she sounded giddy, although that wasn’t a word he would have ever used to describe her.

"They’ve seen me kiss you before."

"You are incorrigible, Joseph Cartwright and your sons are just like you!"

"My sons are fine boys, Mrs. Cartwright, so I thank you for the compliment."

Ben flushed at his father’s praise. He leaned against the wall as he sat on the stair. Eavesdropping was wrong, and he knew his father would take back his praise if he knew Ben was sitting there, but Ben couldn’t help himself.

"I know one son who was quite happy today."

"Benjamin?" The chair creaked; Father must have sat down. "He seemed pleased that I believed him, as if I didn’t know he was an honest lad. He was protecting his brother, Kit. I couldn’t fault him for that." The chair creaked again as Mother giggled.

"I hope you gave that headmaster what for, threatening to cane Benjamin."

Father grunted. "I suppose the boy told you that I threatened the headmaster if he ever laid a hand on one of the boys."

Ben shook his head. He had promised not to say anything.

"He never said a word." Mother sighed deeply. "But I’m glad you did."

"I don’t know, Kit. I don’t like that school. I’m thinking of sending Edward somewhere else next year. Benjamin will be out, and I think Edward could use a bit more of a challenge. I met a man a few weeks ago, Benjamin Gould. One of the captains I know introduced us. Gould is the headmaster of Boston Latin, and I think Edward would do well there."

The chair creaked. "But not Benjamin?"

Father laughed softly. "That one, he’s not meant for school, Kitten. He’s already got his eye set on adventure."

Mother huffed. "That’s Lizzie Stoddard, filling his mind with the Corps of Discovery. He’s quite smitten with her, you know."

Ben felt his face burning. He had no idea his parents spent so much time talking about him and his brother.

"I know. And I’ve spoken with him about her. He knows how to treat a young lady."

Mother’s giggle was low. "Another way in which he takes after his father?"

Ben couldn’t understand the noises coming from the parlor until Father spoke again.

"Enough talk about our sons. They’re in their beds and it is time we went to ours, Kitten."

Ben’s eyes went wide as he realized what his parents were up to, and he turned to hurry back to his room. He would have to talk to Father in the morning. He crawled into bed, and closed his eyes. His final thought before dozing off was of Lizzie Stoddard.

Ben woke early the next morning, anxious for his day of adventure with Father and Eddie. As it turned out, though, Eddie had to stay home, as he had awakened with the beginnings of a spring cold, and Mother wouldn’t let him leave his bed.

Father must have been as anxious for the adventure as Ben, for as Ben was doing his chores, Father joined him. Ben was startled when Father picked up the rake and started shoveling the soiled hay from the cow’s stall.

"You look surprised, Benjamin. Did you not think I knew how to clean a barn?" Father’s smile took some of the sting from his words.

"I’ve never seen you do it, Father."

Father stopped briefly. "One of the advantages of fatherhood is having sons to do the dirty chores. But I did this until John was old enough to use the rake without injuring himself."

Ben allowed as that must be true, but as he had been doing these chores since he was seven or eight, and John was two years older, that meant that Father hadn’t done the chores in almost ten years.

"Well, if you think I’m doing something wrong, you may take over, Benjamin."

Ben winced. He hadn’t meant to anger Father. But one look at the man showed Ben that Father wasn’t angry; he was leaning on the rake as he grinned at his son. Ben shook his head slowly.

"No, sir. But if you don’t slow down, you’ll make a mess with the hay. Rushing through chores doesn’t get them done faster, it only makes more work."

Ben surprised himself with his temerity; he had never teased Father like this before. Father’s eyes narrowed and he threw the rake aside. Before Ben could react, Father grabbed his arm and threw him over his shoulder. Ben bounced like a sack of potatoes as Father strode from the barn and he yelped as Father stopped by the rain barrel next to the kitchen door.

"Let’s see if a good soaking will make the chores go faster, Benjamin!" Father slung Ben around and held him by the waist, the boy’s head dangling just above the water. Ben laughed as he begged his father to set him down.

"Joseph! Benjamin!"

Ben glanced at the door. Mother was on the stoop, one hand on her hip, the other waving her wooden spoon. She looked so silly upside-down that Ben giggled.

"Joseph, set him down. He’ll catch his death if he gets wet in this spring air."

Father snickered, no doubt as amused as Ben by Mother’s comments. Mother was forever worrying that boys could catch their deaths if they got wet. The world spun as Father set Ben on his feet, and Ben would have fallen had not Father grabbed his elbow.

Mother continued to scold. "It’s a good thing the boy hasn’t eaten yet, or you’d be the one in need of a bath, Joe." She tapped her foot. "Breakfast is almost ready, but there will be none for boys who do not finish their chores.

Father grinned. "Yes, ma’am." He nudged Ben. "I woulda been done, but Ben was foolin’ around."

Ben’s jaw dropped as Mother waved her spoon in Father’s face. "I know which of you is the troublemaker, Joseph Cartwright." She shook her head as she turned back to the door, and he heard her mutter, "It’s no wonder my boys are the way they are." Neither father nor son moved until she closed the door behind her.

Father pushed Ben slightly. "I know for a fact that Mother is making fritters for breakfast. And she has maple syrup. What say we finish our chores so we can have some?"

The two worked quickly and soon were sitting at the kitchen table, a hot plate of apple fritters in front of them. Apple fritters were a treat in the spring; usually the apples didn’t last this long, and Ben felt sorry for his brother, who was too sick to enjoy the food. Ben thanked his mother as she handed him a plate piled with the tasty treats, and his listened to his parents talk as he poured the syrup over the fritters.

Father had decided that he and Ben would still have their day of adventure even though Eddie was sick. After all, Father opined, he and Edward would have time together once Benjamin started sailing. Mother frowned; the Wanderer was due in port any week now, and Ben knew she wasn’t happy about losing another son to the sea.

Ben and his father walked through the streets of Boston, stopping occasionally so that Father could point out "the places where America was born." Ben listened politely as Father showed Ben the house in which Paul Revere had died only a few years ago, or when Father once again told Ben the story of how Father’s father and Uncle John had stood in front of the Old State House and listened as the Declaration of Independence was first read in 1776. Ben didn’t speak much until father and son found themselves atop Breed’s Hill. Father sat on the grass, and Ben stretched out beside him.

Ben lay on his belly, kicking his legs aimlessly behind him. The grass, still damp with morning dew, was chilly, but the early May air was warm. The spring that had seemed long in coming was in full bloom that morning. Ben had noticed the daffodils and tulips as he and Father had walked through town. Now, sitting above Boston, he could see the hint of blooming trees on the islands that dotted the harbor. The ocean breeze blew gently, and Ben breathed deep to smell the salt in the air.

Ben turned expectantly when Father rested his hand lightly on his shoulder. He was taken aback by his father’s wistful smile.

"You will be leaving us soon, Benjamin."

Ben scrambled to sit up. He pulled his knees close to his chest, his arms hugging his legs close to his body. He had been so caught up in the excitement of sailing that he hadn’t thought much about the fact that he would be leaving his home and his family. He swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat remained.

"I’m not leaving forever, Father."

Father stretched his arms behind him, and leaned back. He smiled slightly. "No, not forever. Your home will always be here." Father moved again, and if Ben didn’t know better, he would have said Father was fidgeting.

"You will find that Captain Stoddard does not tolerate much." Father frowned. "That eye-rolling, for one thing."

Ben had been sure that Father had not been looking at him when he rolled his eyes.

"And he has a quicker temper and harder hand than I."

Ben wouldn’t have believed his father, but John had said the same thing at Christmas time. Ben stole a glance at Father. "You sound as though you know from experience, sir."

Father nudged his elbow into Ben’s side, knocking Ben over. "I will allow that I might." He helped Ben sit up again. "I also know from experience that while he may be strict, he is never unfair. He treats his men well, and you will learn as much as you want from him.

"Not all men are like Abel, Benjamin. Some men will take advantage of your youth and inexperience." Father pulled his legs to his chest, and sat like his son. "Abel will watch out for you, and you would do well to listen to him."

Ben could hear his father’s anxiety and hurried to reassure him. "I’ll be all right. John will be there, too, and he’ll watch out for me as well."

"Of course he will. That’s what brothers do."

Father and son sat in silence for several minutes. Ben watched the ships sailing from the harbor, still in awe that he would be sailing on one of those ships in a month’s time.

"Why do you wish to go west, Benjamin?"

Father’s question took Ben by surprise. He stared across the harbor, trying to figure out an answer that made sense to someone other than himself. His father waited patiently. Finally Ben nodded to himself, and turned toward Father.

"I want to be the first to do something." He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected from his father, but Father gestured for Ben to say more.

"Everything I’ve done, all my life, John’s done before me. He went to school before me, he learned to read before me, he went to sea before me-"

"He is older than you, Benjamin." Father’s voice was solemn, but Ben could see the hint of a smile in his eyes.

"I know that." Ben’s answer was impatient, and Father’s smile faded. Ben quickly apologized for his tone.

"I’m sorry, Father. It’s just…" Ben waved his arm. "When I look around, I see places where people have walked for two hundred years. When we walked through town, everywhere we looked, someone had done something famous there. We’re sitting in a place in which your father and uncle fought. I want to do something that no one has done before. I want to see a place that no one has seen before, to walk where there is no road." Ben flushed as his voice cracked, something it had done all too frequently in the past months, but a glance at Father showed no hint that the man would tease him about it.

"And you think you’ll find this place in the west, among the savages?"

Ben leapt to his feet and paced in front of his father. "Yes, sir, I do. I’m not even sure I believe they are savages. I’d like to see the grasslands, and the mountains and animals that look nothing like the animals here." Ben flung his arms wide in his excitement. "I read about the buffalo, Father. Immense creatures in herds so large that they stretch across as far as the eye can see. I’d like to see the Pacific Ocean."

Father grinned at his son’s enthusiasm. "Think you it will be so different from the Atlantic?"

"Aw, Father, it has to be."

Father patted the grass beside him. "Sit. I’m getting a crick in my neck trying to look at you."

As soon as Ben settled next to his father, the man wrapped his arm around Ben’s shoulder and drew the boy close. Ben rested his head on his father, taking advantage of the unusual closeness.

"Promise me something, son?"

"Of course, Father."

"When you see the west, write to me and tell me about it."

Ben turned to look at his father. "Why don’t you come with me?"

Father’s laughter filled the air. "Can you see your mother going across country on horseback? No, Benjamin. I was born a man of New England, and I will die a man of New England. You’ll have to see the west for us both."

To Ben’s amazement, Father kissed him lightly on the forehead. "I have every faith in you, Benjamin. If you have determined that you will see the west, I know you will. Of all my boys, I believe that you will do what you set out to do." Father rested his head against Ben’s for a minute. "I know I don’t say this as often as I should, son, but I am very proud of you. Mother and I both are very proud of you."

Ben flushed. Father had never said he was proud of Ben, not in so many words anyway. In fact, Father had never acted this way, and Ben wondered briefly if Father had spoken and behaved so with John, before John sailed. Probably not, for John wouldn’t have allowed himself to be so close to Father. The lump in Ben’s throat grew again, and he felt homesick, even though he had not yet left. He rested his head on Father’s shoulder again. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sound of Father’s soft breathing. He never realized that Father had a scent about him, the leather and rope from the shop, the hint of tobacco from his pipe, and even the herbs Mother used when she washed the family’s clothes. While Ben had never noticed the scent, he knew he was going to miss it desperately when he left home. He concentrated, determined to remember every moment of this day, so that when he was sailing, he could close his eyes and picture it.

"C’mon, Benjamin." Father’s gentle shake startled Ben. "No time for sleeping." Father stood, and held his hand out to help Ben. "Time to go home, Mother will have lunch ready."

Father and son headed down the hill, Father’s arm resting lightly over Ben’s shoulders. The lump in Ben’s throat was easing, and the fit of homesickness was fading. Ben knew no matter how far he roamed, he would always have his memories of home.