How Could I Forget?

By Marion

Ben sat by Annie's bed. Hop Sing had assured him it was just a fever that children sometimes get, but still he was worried. He smiled slightly. Worry was a parent's prerogative. Everyone else was asleep and the house was quiet except for Annie's occasional moans. He leaned over and wiped her forehead with a cold cloth and then he sat back and looked at the book on his lap. The leather-bound journal was full; it was his diary of the time that Annie came to live on the Ponderosa. He opened it and began to read . . .

Dear Journal:

I have been traveling several days since I heard of my brother's death. God willing, I shall reach Santa Barbara and my brother's ranch tomorrow. My thoughts are, as they have been these many days, with the poor child I shall meet. I remember how disconsolate Joseph was upon Marie's death, and he had his father and brothers to comfort him. Poor Annie must feel truly alone. How frightened she must be to know that a man she has never met is coming to take her to a place she has never seen. If only Eddie and I had visited, at least she would know me.

Ben's thoughts moved from the page to that day when he first met Annie. He had reached the ranch shortly after 2 pm.

The house was a few miles off the main road, and I was surprised by its size. Ed certainly had done well for himself. The house was larger than our cabin on the Ponderosa. It was white adobe and all on one level. The rooms surround an open courtyard, which I am told is typical of Mexican architecture. How Adam would love to have see how it was built! I rode toward the house and was greeted by a Mexican.

"Senor Benjamin Cartwright?" I dismounted and nodded.

"Yes, I am Senor Cartwright." I held out my hand to shake his.

"I am Jose, the foreman of the ranch. We have been expecting you, Senor." He turned and shouted something in Spanish. A boy, about nine years old, came running from the stables.

"Eduardo, this is Annie's uncle, Senor Cartwright. Take care of his horse."

"Si, Papa." The boy reached out to take the reins, but not before his father reached out to caress his head. Jose looked at me almost apologetically.

"Sometimes Senor, it takes someone else's lose to know how fortunate we are." How well I knew that! "Now you will wish first to see Annie. This way please, Senor. We will talk later, you and I, of the things that need to be done."

We headed towards the door, which was opened by a tall, dark haired woman. This must be Concetta, my brother's housekeeper and Jose's wife.

"Buenos dias, Senor Cartwright. Annie is in the courtyard waiting for you. She knows you are here. I think it would be best to see her alone." She and Jose escorted me to the doorway and I looked out. A tiny figure in a dark dress sat on a bench surrounded by beautiful flowering bushes. She looked up at the sound of the door closing behind me.

She stood up as I approached her. I could not believe how small she was. I think she was even smaller than Joseph. She barely came to my waist. She was so much like her father that it took my breath away. She had her father's dark eyes and dark hair. Her hair was neatly braided and hung almost to her waist. If I looked closely, I could see the image of my mother in her face, too. I knelt in front of Annie.

"Annie, I am your Uncle Benjamin."

She tried to smile. "I am very glad to meet you, Uncle Benjamin." Her polite lie almost broke my heart. She had no wish to meet me under these circumstances and we both knew it. "I have heard a lot about you from Papa…" Her voice faltered and she started to tear up. I started to reach out to her, but she stood up straight and smiled bravely. Oh Eddie, I thought, she was trying so hard to be brave. I sat on the bench and patted the seat next to me. She sat ramrod straight next to me.

"Did you have a good trip?"

"I came as soon as I could, Annie. I'm sorry it took so long."

She nodded. "I knew you would come as soon as you could. Papa always said you would if he needed you." We sat quietly for a few minutes; neither knew what to say next. She looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. "You've come to take me away."

Her tone was so flat, so unemotional that I wondered what people had told her. I decided she needed me to be forthright, to not hide anything. "Yes, Annie. Your father left you in my care, and you will come to live with your cousins and me on the Ponderosa. I know it will be hard for you to leave your home here, but you need to be with family now." I asked my next question with some trepidation, as I did not know how she would respond. " Is there someone with whom you were hoping to stay?"

She thought a moment. "No, sir. I understand why I have to move, although I will be sad to leave my home and Concetta and her family. Papa knew best, I must do as he decided."

We talked a while longer until Concetta came to the doorway. "Annie, it is time to do your chores." Suddenly the Annie I would come to know quite well flared to life.

"But, Concetta, I am talking with my uncle. I'll do them later." Her tone bordered on insolent and I was about to say something when Concetta responded in a tone that brooked no nonsense.

"You will do them now." She pointed towards the kitchen. "Go, now. You do not want your uncle to know how naughty you can be, do you?" A smile tweaked the woman's lips and Annie smiled back.

"I'm never naughty, Concetta. You know that." She stood and looked at me. Suddenly she kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you for coming, Uncle Ben." Before I could respond, she turned and ran into the house.

I was surprised when Concetta sat next to me. "Senor Cartwright, I apologize for taking her from you, but I think it is best for Annie if she continues her day as she always has."

"No apologies necessary, I agree with you. This is a difficult time for the child, and she needs as much to stay the same as possible."

"There are some who do not agree with you. They would take this child from her home before you came; they feel that it is not right she stay here only with Jose and me. But, it was written in your brother's will that she stay with us until you could come to her. I tell you, Senor, if you did not come, I would have been happy to keep her all her life."

My brother had often written of Concetta and Jose in such glowing terms that I felt I knew them already. Now I understood why he respected them so much. They were as much a part of his family as Hop Sing is of our family.

"My journey here was easier knowing that she had you and Jose to watch over her. Thank you."

"Senor, you are most welcome. Now, Eduardo has brought your bags to your room. Would you like to rest, or would you like to see your brother's papers? Senor Levy, the attorney of your brother, left them in the study for you to see. We have sent word to Senor Levy that you have arrived and he will come to see you in the morning."

I stood. "In that case, I had best start reading them now."

My brother's study was a comfortable one. The desk was large, perhaps made of mahogany, with four carved legs. Sitting here I felt like my brother was with me and I resolved to find a way to bring it home. Ed's will was on top and the ranch books were right underneath those.

I read the will. I was named executor and guardian and I was instructed to sell the ranch and the contents of the house and use the proceeds to raise Annie. A handsome legacy for her, I thought. I was glad to see that Ed had made provision for his vaqueros, although I would have given something to each of them before we left. He often credited them with the success of his ranch. He was especially generous to Concetta and Jose, leaving them each $1000.

I looked through the books. Ed was doing well, although he did not have much cash on hand. He seemed to prefer to reinvest his money in the ranch. Smart move, I thought. He had some money invested in other business endeavors as well. I would have to speak to the attorney about retaining him to supervise these investments in the future. I saw no reason to cash them out. Annie would be very well off, indeed.

I was surprised to see a letter at the bottom of the pile. It was addressed to me and it was in Ed's hand. I stared at it for a few minutes before I reached for the letter opener.

My dearest Benjamin,

If you are reading this, it means I have joined my beloved Katie in our immortal rest. I have left you my most precious Annie because I know you will raise her with love, as you are raising your own boys. I regret that I will not see the beautiful woman that I know she will become.

Annie is a very spirited child. She is generally good and obedient but she is occasionally willful, stubborn and in need of discipline. I am sure she gets this from her mother as we Cartwrights are not known for stubbornness. I know you will be fair to her and give her the guidance with which we were raised.

I have told her about you and your sons. She and I have read your letters together and she thinks she knows you already. I have told her so many stories of our boyhood that she feels she was raised with us.

You will meet, if you have not already done so, Jakob Levy, my attorney. He is a good and honest man and you may trust him to give you wise advice. Trust also Jose and Concetta. They will want only what is best for Annie and will care nothing of profit for themselves. I have remembered them in my will, as I have remembered all who have worked for me. I know I would have amounted to nothing but for their efforts.

Do not grieve for me overly much, dear brother. Remember me in your prayers. Surely we will all be reunited in God's Glory in God's own good time. Tell John I loved him always, even when it seemed that I did not. Love and protect my beloved child. I thank you for all that I know you will do.

With greatest affection, your loving brother,

Ed

It was a good thing I read the will and the books first. I was quite undone by the letter and for the first time I allowed myself to weep for the brother I had lost.

Supper was very quiet. Annie apparently had been eating with Concetta and Jose and their family in the kitchen. Concetta was surprised when I insisted on joining them, but graciously acquiesced. The children were very quiet. I'm not sure if they were intimidated by me or if they did not speak much English. I suspect it may have been the latter. I was surprised to hear Annie converse with them in Spanish - apparently she speaks it fluently. Ed had never mentioned that. As far as I could tell, she spent much of her time with the children. They were well behaved and respectful.

Annie asked to be excused shortly after supper was over. She asked Concetta, which I thought was only natural, but Concetta nodded towards me. Annie looked puzzled until Concetta said something in Spanish. Annie frowned, but then looked to me for permission to leave the table. Concetta and her daughter, Angelina, cleaned the dishes while Jose and I sat in the courtyard discussing the ranch.

"Senor Levy thinks he may have someone to buy the ranch. I do not know the details but there is a man in town who is interested. Senor Levy speaks highly of him."

"How about you, Jose? Are you interested?"

"Me, Senor? No, your brother was most generous, but I do not have the money for such a ranch as this. Concetta and I are deciding if we should move back to Mexico. With your brother's gift to us, we will be able to buy a small ranch. But I would stay on here until the new owner is comfortable running the ranch."

"My brother spoke very highly of you, Jose. Now I understand why."

"Your brother was an honorable man, Senor. He treated us with respect and dignity. There are not many men who would do such a thing. Many of the Anglos have taken advantage of the Mexicans, especially now that the war is ended."

We talked some more about Ed. Jose could tell a story in such a way that I felt I was there, and some of his stories left me in tears, I was laughing so hard. My brother may have been honorable, but he was apparently not a natural rancher! I in turn shared stories of Ed when we were boys and young men at sea.

We both stood as Concetta came out with a tray of coffee and cups. We sat back and enjoyed the quiet for a while. Concetta's voice broke the silence.

"Senor Cartwright, I hope you do not mind what happened at supper. Annie has become used to looking to me for permission. I will speak with her again in the morning."

"Concetta, please, I am not angry. I understand that you have been responsible for Annie and I think it is only natural that she looked to you, rather than to the uncle that she has only just met."

We talked some more about the impending move. Concetta had already been preparing Annie mentally, and they had started to pack some things that Annie wanted to keep. Jose suggested I take one of the ranch wagons and a couple of the horses to pull it. He also told me that Annie had her heart set on taking Jove, my brother's prize stallion. Jose felt that Jove would be up to the trip and that he would be an excellent addition to our herd. Before I said good night, Concetta confided that she was worried about Annie. "The child has not cried as she should. She holds it inside of her and it will make her sick." I assured Concetta that I had all too much experience helping grieving children.

I checked on Annie before I retired for the evening. As I tucked the blankets back around her, I felt a wave of homesickness. I missed my boys and I hoped they were doing well without me. I knew that Adam and Hop Sing would keep an eye on everything for me. I just hoped Joseph would behave himself.

The next morning came all too soon. Annie and I ate breakfast in the dining room and we talked about the Ponderosa. She was full of questions about her cousins and the ranch and where she would sleep and what she would do. I tried to answer them as best I could, but I think the questions were just hiding her nervousness. After breakfast we went into her father's study.

"Annie?"

"Yes, Uncle Ben?"

"Have you given thought to what you would like to take with you when we leave? We'll have to leave by the end of the week." I think that surprised her, but I tried to explain that I could not leave the Ponderosa for too long a time. I also did not think dragging out the time before she left would help Annie at all, but I did not say that.

Annie looked at her hands. I would eventually learn that this meant she was nervous or upset. "How much may I bring?"

"Jose has a wagon and horses that we will take. You can pack two, maybe three trunks. I don't want to take anything heavier over the mountains. I do intend to ship your father's desk, and perhaps if there is more you want, we can ship it then. I should warn you, the house is small. There's no room for a lot of furniture."

She smiled. "Papa would be glad to know you want his desk. He loved that desk. I don't want the other furniture, Uncle Ben. I think it was here when we moved into the house. I'd like to bring some of Papa's books, if I may, and my books and clothes and maybe a few other things. I think I can fit it into the trunks." She rocked slightly, another trait I would soon realize meant she was nervous. "Uncle Ben? May I ask you something?"

I stilled her by putting my hand on her shoulder. "Annie, I want you to know that you may always ask me anything."

"Mr. Levy explained that Papa left money to Concetta and Jose. I was wondering, would it be all right to let them take some things from the house? Papa had a few sculptures that I know they admired greatly, and it would mean a lot to them if they could keep them."

I told her I thought that would be a wonderful gift and I was proud of her for thinking of them. She was so solemn and serious that I had trouble remembering she was only 12. But then I thought of Joseph after Marie's death and I understood that she was overwhelmed by her grief.

We were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Senor Cartwright? Senor Levy is here to see you." Concetta opened the door to admit a tall, thin dark haired man. Annie jumped up to greet him and he bent down to give her a hug. Then Annie remembered herself and turned to me.

"Uncle Ben, this is my father's attorney, Mr. Jakob Levy. Mr. Levy, this is my father's brother, Mr. Benjamin Cartwright." We shook hands and sat on the two chairs by the fireplace.

"Mr. Cartwright." I was surprised by Mr. Levy's accent. He sounded as though he were from Germany. "Mr. Cartwright, I am very pleased that you were able to come so quickly."

"He came to take care of me, Mr. Levy." I started to reprove Annie for interrupting, but was surprised to see Mr. Levy frown at her.

"Liebchen, I need to speak with your uncle now, not to you. Concetta has invited me to lunch and we will have plenty of time to spend together. For now, I am sure you have things to do." Clearly this man was indeed very close to my brother and niece. Annie blushed, apologized for interrupting and then asked to be excused. I suggested she go start packing.

Mr. Levy waited until she had left the room. "You intend to leave soon, then?"

"Yes. I am anxious to not leave my sons too long alone, and I do not think a drawn-out good bye will be good for Annie."

"I think perhaps you are right, Mr. Cartwright, but I would be lying if I said I am looking forward to her going. She has become like a niece to me and I will miss her terribly." He opened his briefcase. "Now then, we should get to business. You have read the will and looked at the books, yes?"

We spent the next few hours discussing my brother's affairs. Jose was right and Mr. Levy did have a buyer interested in the ranch. He assured me the man was honest and that he would treat the workers well. Mr. Levy thought the offer a fair one and so did I. I asked him to draw up the contract.

We had just finished our discussions when we heard a soft knock followed by the sight of Annie peeking around the door. "Uncle Ben, Mr. Levy, Concetta says lunch is almost ready." I waved her in and she opened the door wider. She stood in front of Mr. Levy. "Uncle Ben told you we'd be leaving soon?"

"Yes, liebchen, he is taking you and a piece of my heart. You will write, yes?" She nodded and threw herself on him again. He returned the hug. "No tears, Annie. You know what your Papa would say to that." She sniffled and started to wipe her nose with the back of her sleeve. I cleared my throat and handed her a handkerchief.

After we ate and saw Mr. Levy off, I turned to Annie. I squatted down to look her in the eye. "Annie, I have something important to do. Would you like to come with me to see your papa?" She nodded solemnly.

Jose gave me directions to the cemetery and Annie rode in front of me on Buck. Somehow just having my arms around her brought me some peace, peace I knew I would need. Annie pointed to where her father was buried, then surprised me by saying "I'll stay here with your horse, Uncle Ben, so you can say good-bye to Papa by yourself."

I took a deep breath and walked towards the grave. I knelt by the side and looked at the stone. "Edward Cartwright. Adored Father. He Has Joined His Beloved Katie." I touched the stone. So few words to sum up such a man. Images jumbled in my mind – three boys scrambling on the dunes of Cape Cod. Two boys looking worried, the younger whispering "Father will not be happy, Bennie." Three boys again, facing a father who was obviously not happy, then another day playing with Father on the beach, Mother watching and laughing at their antics. The boys were young men now, standing around two stones where their parents lay. The oldest held the two youngest close as they wept. The two younger boys lying in the Captain's room, the youngest confiding that he was frightened and the older one trying to reassure him. How the years have flown! Ed telling me he was going to a different ship, the sorrow of our parting, Ed introducing his bride to us in New Orleans. Was it really 13 years since I had seen my brother? We had remained close through letters – we must have written five or six times a year, but I wish I had been able to see him one last time. I touched the stone again. Losing Eddie was losing a piece of myself, of my youth and I choked back a sob. I could not fight the tears and they washed over me until I felt a small hand touch my shoulder. I looked and there was Annie. "Uncle Ben, I want my Papa." I reached out, gathered her in my arms and the two of us cried together, clinging to each other.

When we returned to the house, I was surprised to see a carriage at the front door. I heard Annie groan and I looked at her in surprise.

"It's Mrs. Thompson. She's the one who was upset that I was to stay with Concetta and Jose. She thought I should stay with her. She thinks you should leave me with her, too. She thinks it's wrong to take me to the wilds of Utah." Annie took a deep breath. "I don't like her Uncle Ben."

I took her hand and squeezed it. "I have no intention of leaving you anywhere. C'mon, let's go see what she wants."

Mrs. Thompson was waiting in the parlor and she introduced herself before Annie could speak.

"Mr. Cartwright, you are making a terrible mistake taking this child to the wilds of Utah. She needs to be with a woman and you are a widower. How can you expect to raise a little girl?" She went on for several minutes before I could get a word in edgewise.

"Mrs. Thompson, Annie has been raised by her father alone for nine years. Yes, I am a widower, but I am Annie's uncle. Her father decided that I will raise her and I will honor my obligation. I am Annie's family and that is that. Now if you will excuse us, I think Annie needs some rest right now. I will see you to the door." That was as rude as I had ever been to a woman, but I was in no mood to deal with that nonsense.

The next few days flew by quickly. Several of my brother's friends came by the house to say good-bye to Annie and to meet me. I was overwhelmed by the wonderful things I heard about my brother. Certainly I heard enough stories to fill in some of the years that I had not seen him.

I helped Annie pack and we arranged to ship some of the things she wanted but could not carry in the wagon. Jose and Concetta did take some personal mementos. They were touched that Annie had thought they would want some of Ed's things. I continued to learn about my niece. Although she was quiet in her grief, she would occasionally show flashes of what I expected was her true nature. She was a true Cartwright and she would have no problems holding her own with her cousins.

Finally the last morning came. Jose and I loaded the trunks on the wagon while Concetta, Angelina and Annie packed food for the trip. Although I would never admit this to Hop Sing, I really enjoyed the food Concetta cooked while I was visiting. It was my first taste of Mexican food and with any luck, it would not be my last. Concetta assured me that Annie was turning into a good cook.

We loaded everything onto the wagon and I told Annie it was time to say good-bye. All the vaqueros had gathered and she hugged each one. She even hugged Eduardo and Angelina before she turned to Jose. She spoke to him in Spanish, then kissed and hugged him. He kept his arm on her while she turned to Concetta. Annie started to cry and Concetta spoke to her softly. Annie replied, all in Spanish and then kissed and hugged Concetta. Jose helped Annie onto the wagon. I thanked Concetta and shook hands with Jose. "Remember," I said, "if you ever wish to move to Utah territory, you know where we are. It would be a privilege to work with you."

"Gracias, Senor." I climbed onto the wagon and flicked the reins. I called softly to the horses. "Walk on."

We made one stop before we left Santa Barbara. I gave Annie some time alone by her father's grave. She placed the flowers she had brought and I heard her say that Concetta would plant new ones in the spring. "Good-bye, Papa. I know you're not here, but watch over me. I'll be with Uncle Ben and he's going to take good care of me." I placed my hands on her shoulder and said my own good-byes to my beloved younger brother. Then we turned and headed home.

We had been on the road several days before I first encountered Annie's fiery temper, and she first encountered mine. We had stopped for the evening and I had gone in search of wood for the fire. I had given Annie strict instructions to remain by the wagon. I was gone for about 15 minutes and when I returned, Annie was not to be found. I had to fight down the feeling of panic. I looked for her footprints and found them leading away from the camp. I felt a slight relief to see that hers were the only footprints going in that direction. I hurried down the hill and met her coming back. She had a bucket of water in her hand. All my worry turned to anger; my boys know that is a bad thing to face.

I grabbed her arm and gave her a shake, which sloshed the water out of the bucket. "I told you to stay by the camp."

She looked at the bucket then glared at me. "You spilled the water!"

Was this slip of a girl talking back to me? I gritted my teeth. "I told you to stay in the camp."

"I just wanted to help. I was getting the water!" She stamped her feet angrily.

This slip of a girl was definitely talking back. "Little girl, I do not tolerate disrespect any more than I tolerate disobedience." My sons would have understood the warning signs and apologized immediately. Annie, unfortunately, did not.

She threw down the bucket. "I just wanted…"

But what she wanted was lost as I turned her around and gave her two quick smacks to the bottom. They were not hard, but they got my message across. I pointed up the hill. "You will go to the camp and you will not move from it until I return. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Uncle Ben." She turned and fled up the hill. I could her sobs as she ran away.

I slowly picked up the bucket and walked down the hill. Lord, how I hate to punish my children. I wonder if they know how much it hurts me to do that. But I knew that it would be easier for us both if Annie knew the limits from the very beginning.

I filled the bucket then sat by the brook for a few minutes. I thought back on all the times I had had to punish the boys. It never got any easier. I suppose I had punished Adam more times than the others; for some reason fathers are always hardest on the oldest. I remembered the last time I had to tan Adam. He was 16 and it was just before we left New Orleans. Some of his friends had decided he needed to visit a sporting house before he left. One of the fathers got wind of it somehow and told me. I went to the place and dragged Adam away from the woman on stage who was slowly removing her clothes to the beat of the music. He had had a couple of whiskeys and struggled and argued all the way home. I threw him into his bed. I was unable to sleep, knowing full well what was to come the next morning. I gave him a lecture such as he had never heard before and then I gave him the worst tanning of his life. It had hurt me greatly, but I would not allow him to throw away all that he had been taught for a few hours of cheap pleasure. He apologized to me later, and assured me that he knew better, but that he was curious. He realized he was wrong to go, but he wanted me to know he would not have done anything more than he already had. He also apologized to Marie for treating a woman so disrespectfully.

I shook myself back to the present, stood and picked up the bucket. By the time I reached the camp, Annie was done crying, although she looked so forlorn that I wanted to hug her. She stood as I entered camp.

"Uncle Ben, I am sorry that I disobeyed you. I really was just trying to help, but I knew I was not supposed to leave the camp." She sniffled. "Papa would have spanked me, too."

I rubbed my forehead wearily. This was a conversation I had postponed too long already. "Annie, come here please." She came towards me slowly, worried perhaps that she would get another spanking. I held out my arms and she came to me. "Annie, you need to understand something. I am not your father and I am not going to try to be. I may have different rules and now that you are living with me, you will have to mind me." I smiled a little. "Having been raised by the same parents, I suspect your father and I are similar in the way we raise children, but we might not be. You must understand that I expect you to be respectful, obedient and honest, and if you are not, you will be punished. I do not like to spank children, but I will if I think it is necessary. I told you to stay here for your own safety. You had no idea what wild animals might have been at the creek, you had no idea how fast it was running, there were many ways you could have been hurt. You must learn to mind what I say."

Annie sniffed again and nodded. "Yes, sir. I understand."

The rest of the trip passed without major incident. We were joined by a few mountain men on our trek across the mountains. They were crude men, but honest and I was glad for the safety in numbers that they presented. They fascinated Annie and I caught her more than once mimicking their speech and I even caught her trying to spit like them. I suggested that young ladies should not behave so, and, although she rolled her eyes, she listened to me.

No sight was ever so sweet as the sight of home and of my sons waiting to greet us. As Jose had said, sometimes it takes someone else's lose to understand how fortunate we are.

Ben glanced out the window. The dawn was just starting. He heard a faint noise and he looked down to see Annie looking at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired and hungry, but not as hot as I was. Were you here all night?"

"Well, some of it."

Annie rolled her eyes. "You mean all of it, don't you?" She reached out and touched my hand. "You know, Uncle Ben, I think I had a dream last night about when you first came to Santa Barbara. Do you remember?" I nodded.

"Of course I do. How could I forget?"

The End