That Cartwright Charm

By Ella

Author’s note: Special thanks to Kathryn, for her proofreading.

Shelby Sterrett stood beside Ben Cartwright, watching his three boys escort Ruth Orowitz back to the Trading Post. Moments earlier, Ruth had caught both Council members in front of Shelby's saloon, to deliver a hurried message from Eli, postponing their planned meeting until later in the week. When Ruth insisted she must get back to the counter, Adam tipped his hat gallantly, then he and Hoss each looped an arm through hers. As Ruth's delighted laughter filled the air, Joe ran after them, passed the trio, then turned around to walk backwards, all the while chattering, gesturing wildly, to fill Ruth in on every detail of their recent horse round-up. Ruth's laughter over Joe's dramatics floated back toward the saloon.

As Shelby started up her steps, she turned her head to catch the broad smile splitting Ben’s face and the unmistakable sparkle of pride in his eyes.

"Your boys have that Cartwright charm, Ben.(1)"

Ben’s mouth dropped open as he turned to stare at her. He wondered for an instant if he was hearing things, not realizing he was swaying slightly on his feet.

Brow furrowing, Shelby reached out to grab Ben’s upper arm, steadying him. Her voice climbed in concern. "Ben? Are you all right?"

Giving his head a quick shake, as if to clear the cobwebs, Ben looked back toward the worried eyes crawling over his face. Yet, he didn't seem to see Shelby, answering her groggily, like a man woken from a dream. "What?"

Shelby snapped, "All right, that’s it! You jest come on inside, outta the sun, and set down fer a spell at one a my tables." Looping an arm through his, she escorted him up the few stairs and across her porch.

Ben waved a hand in protest. "Shelby, really, I can't ..."

The bartender grunted, tossing her head. "Now don’t you go worryin’ none, about that sparklin’ reputation a yers. Ain’t no one gonna think Ben Cartwright is gettin’ all liquored up, this early in the mornin’." She raised her eyes heavenward, muttering, "Or any other time a day, when ya get right down to it."

Ben watched his three sons disappear through the Trading Post entrance. "But we came into town to – "

From behind him, Shelby nudged his shoulders. "Come on now, Ben. Ain’t like Adam cain’t take the reins fer a spell, while you take a load off. He's more 'n' capable enough, ta fill yer order over at the store and keep an eye on that frisky pup a yers .... "

Opening his mouth again to object, Ben found himself whisked through the swinging doors into the empty saloon.

"Ben Cartwright, if you ain’t the most mule-headed man. But you know me well enough by now, ta know I ain’t no wiltin’ flower, neither. I ain’t takin’ no take fer an answer. You need ta sit!" Planting him roughly in a chair at the first table they came to, she crossed her arms over her chest and demanded, "Now, what'll it be? Sarsaparilla? Coffee?" She sighed, with another roll of her eyes, before offering reluctantly, "Some a that danged apple cider Margaret talked me inta takin’ a while back?"

Ben winced at a still too vivid memory - all his friends looking to him as he raised his cup in a toast, at the Ponderosa's dinner table (2).

The bartender sneered, "Right you are. Hell’ll freeze over, ‘fore I’ll touch a drop of that stuff – even if some of my customers do say it’s got a right fine kick to it now."

Shelby turned away suddenly, at the unexpected smarting in her eyes. She closed them against a wound still too raw to the touch.

Ben nodded at her back, in understanding. He forced a brightness into his voice as he announced, "I’ll have coffee. Yes, coffee would be just the thing, Shelby."

Sucking a deep breath in through her nose, the saloon owner pushed back her shoulders, then hustled out to her kitchen, to fix up a fresh pot. If she knew nothing else about Ben Cartwright, she knew he liked a good, strong brew. She returned, carrying the pot in one hand and two mugs in the other. Filling them, she handed one to Ben before sitting down opposite him at the table. Taking a tentative sip, Ben lowered his mug and gave her a nod of approval.

"It’s good, Shelby. Thank you."

Tilting her chair back until it balanced on two legs, Shelby slid a cigar from her jacket pocket. Stuffing it into her mouth, she lit it, then puffed on it while she chewed over what had taken place outside. She dropped her chair to its four legs, then leaned her arms on the table as she spoke.

"Ben?"

Ben watched her from behind his cup for a moment, then lowered the crockery. "Yes, Shelby?"

"Ben, what was it that upset ya, outside before? Did I miss some indiscretion on yer boys’ part? Cause I really meant what I said. They got good manners, Ben. And I knowed a lotta that gotta have come direct from you." She held up a hand abruptly. "That ain’t meant ta speak badly 'bout Marie, now. Believe me, Ben, I thoughta her with all kinds of respect. She was a good woman. A true lady."

"Well, thank you, Shelby. Whether you know it or not, Marie thought you had ..."

He grimaced, as he wrestled for the right words, to present the intended tone of Marie’s thoughts. Shelby threw a hand into the air, rolling her eyes as she shot to her feet, knocking over her chair in the process.

"Ain’t no need ta return the compliment, Ben. I wern’t lookin’ fer one."

Ben stood as he called out to her, "Shelby. Shelby, please, sit back down." The woman turned, her cigar clamped between her lips. "Please, Shelby, you’ve misunderstood my meaning." He righted the chair, then gestured at it, with a gallant sweep of his hand. Holding the backrest, he waited, his warm eyes beckoning her to accept his invitation.

Shelby’s face lit up. "Dang, but you know how ta treat a ... lady. Even when she ain’t one."

Shaking his head in gentle reprimand, Ben ordered quietly, "Come back and sit down."

When Shelby plunked herself roughly back in her seat, she waited for Ben to sit, then pinned him in place with her green eyes, poking the air with her cigar as she spoke.

"All right, Ben Cartwright, you insisted. Soooo .... I’m waitin’. Jest what is it that that fine wife of yers said, that was so com-pli-men-tary 'bout old Shelby?"

Ben reached for the coffee pot and topped up his cup. The warmth in his brown eyes confirmed the sincerity in his voice.

"She said you were an independent woman and she could respect you for that independence."

Shelby waved her cigar at him, before tilting her chair again and resting her arm on the back. "Heck, now, that ain’t such a compliment. It’s jest the plain truth." She snorted. "Truth born of necessity. And that’s a fact." She jabbed her cigar back in her mouth, her cynical eyes and cocky grin daring the man to deny her comments.

Ben took a slow sip of coffee, then lowered his cup. "You didn’t let me finish."

Slapping the table, Shelby squawked, "Yeah, and that jest proves to ya what I already said, Ben Cartwright. I ain’t no lady. Ain’t gonna be, neither. It jest AIN’T who I am."

"Shelby." Ben’s quiet, patient voice forced her to lower her eyes, then peek up at him, with as much shame as she was capable of mustering.

"Go on, Ben. I’m sorry."

Ben cleared his throat. "Well, Marie also said that you are a good woman, when you want to be." Shelby opened her mouth, but Ben silenced her with a commanding glance. "She said you have a lot of good in you, but are afraid to show it most of the time and she understood that."

Again, the bartender rose abruptly, glaring into the kind eyes watching her from behind the coffee cup. She snapped, "Yeah, well, she - " Shelby turned away. She cleared her throat, then mumbled, "Well, that was a nice thing fer her ta say. I’m shore she didn’t have ta say it."

Looking desperately around her saloon, for any lifeline, Shelby caught sight of the rag on the counter. She tried to pace her stride, but rushed too quickly to the bar to grab it, then began to wipe the sparkling surface, with a dramatic show of elbow grease.

After a moment, she paused, calling nonchalantly over her shoulder, "Ya know, we seem ta have got away from my ore-ridge-nal question. I mean, about why you looked so danged shaky, after I said what I did about yer boys and that Cartwright charm."

Shelby turned around to face him, then leaned back, elbows on the bar, rag dangling in one hand. As Ben stared back at her, she watched, dumbfounded, as a dreaminess took over his rugged face. Slapping her hands to her sides, she marched towards him.

"Now, there ya go again. Ben Cartwright! What in blazes is the matter with you?"

Tipping his head to one side, Ben raised an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. "There’s nothing wrong with me, Shelby. It just that ..." He rolled his fingers in a lazy circle as he explained, "It’s just that the words you chose ... they brought her back. I just wasn’t ... well ... I just wasn’t prepared for that particular memory."

Shelby’s face twisted in confusion.

Ben licked his lips, then sighed. "It just so happens, your words are the same ones Marie used to use – whenever our boys managed to talk themselves out of some sticky mess they’d gotten themselves into." A slow grin spread over his face, until it seemed to reach his ears. He began to chuckle until Shelby puckered up her mouth, finally smacking her lips in frustration.

"All right, let me clarify." He chuckled. "From the day I introduced Marie to my older sons ... well, they managed to say or do things in her presence, that demanded explanation, in my estimation. Yet, by the time they were done explaining themselves, Marie was struggling so hard to keep from laughing, it was impossible for me to stay angry with them, let alone punish them."

He raised a finger, then wagged it back and forth, as he clarified sternly, "Don’t get me wrong now. There have been plenty of times when all my sons have sunk their boat, while trying to talk their way out of one offence or other. Neither I, nor Marie, could excuse certain misdemeanors. But there were those other times, when they used that – "

Shelby’s eyes lit up, as an elfish smile curled across her face. "That Cartwright charm?"

Ben nodded, matching her grin, with a devilish one of his own. "Yes, that Cartwright charm. They managed to save their hides and walk away, leaving us wondering what had happened."

Sliding back into her seat at the table, Shelby raised a suspicious eyebrow. "It was Marie, though, that come up with that there expression, wern’t it?"

Ben cleared his throat, then tried to mask his guilty expression behind his coffee mug. He nodded reluctantly.

Shelby leaned forward, pointing an accusing finger. "Cause she’d seen it in you, ‘fore she ever met yer boys, ain’t that right?" Shelby's smile couldn’t spread any wider. She nodded, "Cause their pa got hisself in trouble and worked that same kinda a magic on her, that his boys done. Ain’t that so?"

Ben batted the air with his hand, all the while shaking his head in denial. "Well ... I can't recollect ever having to talk my way out of trouble with Marie ... I mean ... I can’t recall any particular instance ... That is ... well, the idea is preposterous ... that I ever got myself into any trouble with Marie, to talk my way out of it ... "

Both parties turned abruptly, to face the swinging doors, suddenly aware of another presence in the saloon. Adam was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, mouth hanging open, slowly shaking his head, blue eyes focused on his father.

Ben arched his eyebrows, his voice coming out in a squeak. "Adam! How long have you been standing there?"

Shelby began to chuckle, then let her laughter break free, until she had to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

"Well, I'll be. Ben Cartwright, I do believe you have some explainin' ta do, if I read yer son's face right."

"I'll say he does." Adam arched his eyebrows to the hilt. "And you say Little Joe tells 'whoppers?(3) '"

Shelby tilted her head at the older Cartwright, watching with an amused glint in her eye, as he hemmed and hawed for a moment.

Ben's eyes grew round with innocence as he held out his hands toward Adam, palms up. He shook his head in wonder. "Adam, I don’t know what you mean ... "

Adam pressed his lips together, eyebrows dropping as he considered that his father had somehow managed, in only a split second, to turn the tables on him. He nodded, all the while absorbing the truly devilish expression spreading over Ben’s face. The young man started toward Shelby, waving a gloved hand at her as he did so.

"He’s trying to get out it." Adam raised and lowered his eyebrows at Ben, several times, at his father’s appalling gall, then turned back to the barkeep. "He’s trying to somehow shame me, into remembering all the times I ‘supposedly’ did the same thing. Well ... in all fairness ... I was just a kid ..."

Ben leaped to his feet, pointing a sharp, accusing finger in the process. "Ah ha!" Adam’s face fell. "So, you’re admitting that you danced around the truth – more than once, young man ... MANY more times than once, to extricate yourself, or your brothers, from some foolishness or other, that often landed you - neck-deep, I might add – "

Adam backed up, raising his palms in defense. "But you’re our father, Pa. And Ma caught you, fair and square, more than once. I personally witnessed it. Talk about effrontery!"

Ben squared his shoulders as he lifted his chin, then frowned. "Effrontery? Well ... I think that’s a bit strong ..."

Adam tossed a hand out, shooting a glance heavenward, before looking to Shelby for backup. He spoke conspiratorially. "He IS good, isn’t he? But next time you hear him complaining about some sneaky thing Joe’s done ... you remind him of this drama that played out in your saloon."

Shelby rose with a growl, then planted a boot firmly on her chair as she crossed her arms over her chest, all the while scowling at the pair of them. "Now, see here, I ain’t gonna side with no one – least not 'till I heard at least one story about how Ben tried to slide out from some sort a mischief that got that darlin’ wife a his riled. I seen her temper in action, more than a time er two. I cain see why a man might not want ta set it ta boilin’. Or a boy."

She grinned at Adam. "But somehow, knowin’ she could make yer pa squirm ... well, I gotta say, that’s a story worth hearin’. And since I ain’t gonna have no customers in here, fer likely another hour or more ... Seems ta me, this is as good a time as any ta listen to it."

Adam smiled, a bit too confidently, until he caught the warning look on his father’s face. Twenty-one or not, Adam still had a healthy respect for his father’s ability to make him feel like a ten-year-old boy, when he so chose.

"Um ... well, Shelby ... "

"Oh, now, don’t you go fallin’ fer that look he’s givin’ ya, Adam. You know as well as I do, that yer Pa’s bark is far worse than his bite!"

Adam cleared his throat, then rubbed his chin. "Yes ma’am. Well, you may very well be right. But then again, I’ve felt my father’s bite. It’s actually quite impressive, believe me."

Shelby yelped, as she slapped her hand to her knee, then turned away, to walk around the bar, intending to grab a another cup from a shelf underneath it. She nodded in the younger Cartwright’s direction when she got behind the counter.

"Yeah, I 'spect you have more than a few experiences under yer belt," she grinned slyly as she watched the blue eyes widen, "or more ta the point - his, ta back up that statement." She leaned two fists on the bar as she insisted, "But that don't change the fact that there's a story here that I plan ta hear." She jutted out her chin. "So, which one-a-ya is gonna spill it?"

Adam blurted, "Fudge!"

Shelby's mouth dropped open as her eyes widened, but when she slid a peek at Ben's face and found him grinning instead of boiling, she looked back at Adam, lifting an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

Ben nodded at his son and Adam rubbed his hands together in decided glee. He looked back at Shelby. "You better come sit down, before he changes his mind."

Rounding the bar, Shelby returned to the table, poured Adam a cup of coffee and sat down opposite him, next to Ben. She rolled her hand in encouragement, then laughed, watching the blue eyes dance with delight.

Adam took a sip of coffee, set his mug back on the table, then tugged off his black leather gloves, slowly, before placing them beside his cup.

Ben looked heavenward, then turned another warning look on his son. "You’re enjoying this too much, I think."

"Now, Pa, you gave me permission to tell the story. You don’t expect me to gloss over any pertinent details, do you? I’m just getting comfortable."

Shelby slapped Ben in the shoulder. "He’s right, Ben. It’s yer boy’s nature ta be thorough."

Ben agreed, drolly, "Yes, especially when he wants to make someone squirm."

Eyes rounding with innocence, Adam shook his head, but avoided eye contact with his father as he told Shelby, "Not true. I’m just trying to present the facts, clearly ... leaving no stone unturned."

Impatience getting the better of her, Shelby shushed Ben, when he opened his mouth in rebuttal. "Go on, Adam, tell the story, ‘fore my customers start staggerin’ in and spoil the mood!"

Taking another sip from his cup, Adam nodded, hiding his triumphant smile behind the brim of his cup. He set the mug down and began.

"Back in New Orleans, not long after Ma and Pa were married, Erik and I were still in bed, early one morning, when we overheard them arguing. Now, it wasn’t an angry argument, mind you. We could tell that, by the tone of Ma’s voice, but we could also tell she was definitely standing her ground .... "

~~~~~~~~

‘Ben Cartwright, I plan no such thing. And even if it be so, I would not tell you. I have seen what you do, in this circumstance.’

‘Circumstance?’ Ben squeaked. ‘It was only just the one time, Marie.’

A long pause followed, while Marie’s eyes bored into her husband’s.

‘But ... but ... you can hardly blame me. After all ... ‘

The boys held their breath, listening at their doorway, sharing a wide-eyed glance as they puzzled over what this argument could possibly be about. Marie’s sharp reprimand brought their full attention back in direction of the kitchen.

‘You ... you are just like those boys. Worse! Because you are the father. Yet, you sneak ... you ... you spy on me, when my back, it is turned.’

‘Spy? Why that’s ridiculous. How can you –‘

Again Marie’s eyes must have cut him off. ‘You kiss me good-bye, you go out the door to your work, then you sneak back. And when I catch you, you tell me you forget your hat.’

Again, there was a long pause, while Marie walked away, then returned. ‘Your hat. How could you could use this same excuse again, and think I would,’ she sighed, until she found the correct American phrase, ‘fall for it?’

‘Marie ... I can see you’ve got all the fixings out here on the table. You are not going to lead me off the scent ...’

‘You are impossible, Ben Cartwright. I see, all the more clearly, where your boys, they get these talents.’ Another pause. ‘But they have, at least, the good sense to heed the warning, when I raise my wooden spoon and tell them to get out of my kitchen."

‘OW!’

‘Go, now! Or you will be late for your work.’

Ben rubbed his wounded seat. ‘Very well.’ He glowered. ‘It’s a fine thing ... a man being chased from his own house ...’ He yelped again as another crack shattered the air.

The door slammed.

Adam and Erik slid down the wall, on opposite sides of the doorway, their brows crinkled in mirror image as they stared silently at each other. Erik opened his mouth and Adam shook his head rapidly, before shooting to his feet, then leaping silently across the doorway, to reach his brother and cup a hand over his mouth. He shook his head again, eyes like daggers, as he pressed a finger to his lips, then pointed toward the kitchen. He shook a closed fist, to remind his little brother about that fierce wooden spoon.

Marie’s soft footsteps advanced down the hall, prompting them to spring for their beds. Adam rolled his eyes when his brother pulled the covers over his head. Yanking them off, he impatiently flipped the back of his hand at the air, until Erik rolled over and tucked his legs up to his chest. Hastily covering his sibling up to the shoulders this time, Adam dove for his own bed, rolling onto his side as he pulled his quilt to his chin and concentrated for all he was worth on making his breathing appear normal.

Their stepmother leaned in the doorway, for a long moment, arms folded over her chest, observing the scene. She shook her head, suspecting their misdemeanor, but finally called out, in a casual suggestion, ‘Would you boys want to help me make a batch of my fudge (4)? If you are to have some, we will need to hurry, so I can hide it before your father comes back at lunch time.’

‘FUDGE!’ Erik shot to a sitting position, tossing his covers to the floor.

Adam stretched lazily as he answered fuzzily, ‘Fudge?’ However, his blinking eyes couldn’t hide his anticipation. Marie’s fudge was truly a taste of heaven itself.

~~~~~~~~

Shelby gawked at the two grinning Cartwrights. "Fudge? Yer kiddin’ me, right?" She fell heavily against the back of her chair, voice rising in amazement. "This story is about ... candy?"

Before anyone could answer, the three of them turned sharply, their attention pulled to the distinctive combination of boyish giggle and deep guffaw, just beyond the swinging doors, on either side of the entrance, at ground level.

Ben sat up straight in his chair as he stretched out the culprits’ names, in warning, "Err-ik! Jooo-seph! What do you two think you're doing?"

Hoss pushed the doors open and the two brothers fell through them, holding their sides, unable to control their laughter.

Doing his level best to meet his father’s eyes, Hoss stood up straight as he explained, still choking on his chuckles, "Please, Pa, don't be mad. Me an’ Little Joe, we come for the wagon and we was lookin’ fer you and Adam and ... well ... Pa ... when we heard the story Adam was tellin’ ... aw, dang, Pa, ya can’t hardly blame us fer listenin'?"

Ben glared at Shelby, who jerked her head back in surprise, simultaneously smacking an open hand to her chest. "Now, jest what’id I do, ta earn that look? Those ain’t MY sons standin’ there, Ben Cartwright." She gave him a sharp nod and a wink. "’Sides, looks ta me like we’re bein’ served up yet another fine helpin' of that there Cartwright charm."

Eyes narrowing, at each son, for just long enough to make each one cringe inwardly while considering his position, Ben turned abruptly back to the saloon owner. "No, they’re MY sons. But YOU," he stabbed a stiff finger in her direction, "YOU are the one who started this, Shelby Sterrett."

Shelby puffed out her chest. "Yep, shore am. And I’ll take full ree-sponse-ib-bil-ity fer finishin’ it." She barked at Adam, "Go on, let’s have the rest of that there story! It’s gonna be noon, soon enough. An I gotta business ta run!" She looked at Hoss and Joe. "Come on now, take a seat! And don’t be rilin’ up yer pa no more, else, fer shore, I’m gonna be left wonderin’ what he done."

Hoss removed his hat, then snatched Joe’s from his head, before nudging the boy forward. "Yes, ma’am. Thank ya." Deciding they were better off sitting at a different table, Hoss dragged his brother with him, to do just that. Nudging the air with the back of his hand, he called out, "Go on, Adam, finish the story. We promised Mrs. Orowitz we’d be back soon, with our wagon."

Adam turned to Pa, who was rapidly losing his grip on his stern countenance. Two big brown eyes at the other table were pleading with him and the owner of those eyes reminded him too much of the woman whose memory had started this whole story-telling to begin with.

Ben flipped a hand into the air. "Very well. After all, we can’t leave Shelby in the dark."

Joe nodded enthusiastically, hurriedly agreeing, "Yeah, that would be impolite." His eyes shifted to his brother. He rocked in his seat, urging as he might a horse, "Go on, Adam."

Wetting his whistle with what was now cold coffee, Adam made a brief face at the cup, then nodded to Pa, for his indulgence, then to Shelby, for her grit, and lastly, at his grinning brothers, for that Cartwright charm!

He took them all back to New Orleans ....

~~~~~~~~

Marie’s fudge recipe was renown. Somehow, whenever she whipped up a batch of it, word spread like wildfire, and people suddenly showed up at the door, for what became an impressive list of reasons. Adam began to jot them down in his journal, amazed over the imaginations New Orleans harbored:

‘Heard ya needed a table moved ... why, is that a batch a yer famous fudge cooling there on the hutch?’; ‘Well, I just dropped by ta see if you needed anything, since I’m heading to the market – oh, can that be yer fudge that I smell?’; ‘Oh, Marie, I only just happened to be happening by and realized it’s been simply too long since I did happen by ... sniff, sniff ... oh, but it cannot possibly be ... is that heavenly smell your fudge?’

But Adam’s all time favorite excuse for coming to call, came from a man who didn’t even reside in New Orleans. George Thomas Horner, a sea captain, was, or so he said, a friend of a friend of a friend. He knocked brazenly on the door one day to announce, as he bowed deeply from the waist, ‘Oh, Madame Cartwright, I heard you wish to take a voyage on one of the big ships. Mine is the biggest, Madame ... ah ... but what is that glorious aroma? Is this the fudge I have heard told about, when my men gaze at the stars and think of home?’

~~~~~~~~

Shelby cocked her head to the right, raising her left eyebrow so high, Adam wondered if it didn’t hurt her to hold it there.

"Poppycock!"

"Oh no, ma’am, it sure ain’t."

All eyes turned to Little Joe, who marched toward her, his young brow furrowed with determination. "It ain’t tall tales, ma’am. Cause fudge is how my ma trapped Pa inta marryin’ her."

"Joseph!" Ben sat bold upright, eyes nearly popping out of his head. Adam winced, suddenly uncomfortable over his proximity to his father.

Joe spread his arms wide, palms up. His eyes grew, as he licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry.

"That’s her words, Pa, not mine." When Ben stared back at him, Joe spit into his hand and raised it. "It’s the truth. You can ask Tess Greene, if ya don’t believe me."

Ben shook his head, then ran a hand down his face in bewilderment, before looking again at the boy.

"Tess? What on earth does she have to do with this, son?"

"Well..." Joe licked his lips again, before looking at everyone, then concentrating reluctantly on his father. "Cause one time, in the Orowitzes’ store, Tess and Myra were goin’ on and on about the best way ta land a man, and Ma told ‘em, ‘fudge.’"

"Then Tess said, you know, with that big old sly grin a hers, and that real sweet way she has a butterin’ folks..."

Adam lowered his eyes, then reached out for his mug, to drink a big gulp of his now stone cold coffee.

Joe shrugged his shoulders and continued, "Tess said, ‘Is that how you landed Mr. Cartwright, Mrs. Cartwright?’ And Ma smiled and said it was. And when I asked her later if it was for real, she said yes."

Ben smiled gently at his youngest son. "Well, I admit, I smelled that candy, while walking by her house, one afternoon on my way to work. She and your Aunt Jeanette were in the yard. And your mother must have caught a familiar look on my face ... that most people got when the heavenly smell of that candy hit their nostrils. And just like that, out of the blue - to the shock of your aunt, I’m sure - she asked me if I’d like a piece."

To this day, Adam wondered if that wasn’t a deliberate set up. How Marie engineered it, well, he’d never found the guts to ask. But Marie was a clever woman. What’s more, she was a determined one. He wagered she’d gone out of her way to learn quite a bit about his father, after she’d followed Ben’s two sons home from the Mardi Gras(5). Likely as not, she knew just when he'd pass by her garden and she spun a sticky web - of sugar, cocoa and cream - and for sure, Pa had gotten trapped in it.

Shelby's sharp voice cut into Adam's musings. "Wern’t it bad enough, that yer pa gave me fits earlier, when I thought he was gonna keel over out front? Now yer driftin' off on me. Adam, let's get to the heart of this here tale of yours."

"Yes'm."

Since Joe had already come over to their table, he slid onto his father's knee, happy to feel Pa's arm encircle him. Hoss shrugged his shoulders and wandered over to take the other chair at the story table.

With a nod, Adam returned to his sticky tale .....

~~~~~~~~

Making Marie's recipe required a fair amount of stirring and while Erik could be counted on to help at the start, his attention tended to drift, to things like the empty cream pitcher, with dregs that tempted his chubby finger to dip in and sample them. In all fairness, once the mixture got too thick, it needed his brother’s stronger arm to stir it anyway.

But Adam's jobs didn't end when the fudge was poured out to set. In fact, his tasks became more difficult at that point - distracting Erik, until the candy was actually ready to eat, for starters. The boys were happy to 'clean the pan' of course, but once it was bare of any hint of chocolate, Erik began eyeing up the pool of lovely brown goo, that made his mouth water.

Adam’s other job was to find a place to hide the candy, making especially sure Erik didn't see the hiding place.

~~~~~~~~

Joe giggled as Hoss scowled, but when the boy turned to look at his father, he noticed that Ben wasn’t wearing even a hint of a smile. In fact, he had a suspicious cloud sliding over his face.

Shelby joined Hoss and Joe, watching the silent exchange of glances between the two older Cartwrights. Adam started to rise, but Ben reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Oh no you don't."

Shelby cocked her head. "Hold on jest a dang minute." She looked at Ben. "He's told somethin' here that you wern't privy to before now, ain't he?"

Ben held up a hand and returned his attention to his eldest. "Are you saying that you are the one who hid the fudge from me? Not Marie?"

Shelby interrupted, "Hid it from you? What the blazes fer?"

Joe burst out laughing, when Hoss answered, "Cause, Pa'd eat it all, if he got his hands on the crock she kept it in."

Ben silenced them all with a glare. Again, he looked at Adam. "Answer the question. It was you, doing the hiding?"

Adam covered his mouth with his fist, to clear his throat, sucking in his smile. He nodded. "Yes."

Ben clarified, "Marie never hid the fudge?"

Holding up a finger, Adam answered, "Only just once." He cleared his throat again. "But you figured out exactly where she hid it." He turned to his audience and added, "In the middle of the night, mind you." His eyes went back to his father and he shook his head, still in disbelief, after all these years. "She found you in the kitchen, in the middle of the night, eating the last piece, Pa. And - " He turned to Shelby, his voice incredulous, "And he stood there, in front of her, and told her that he didn't mean to eat it all."

Shelby’s jaw dropped. "Ben Cartwright ..."

Adam leaned toward her, explaining, "Oh, it's not really too surprising, given that Ma's eyes had probably cut him in two at that point. Believe me, it's a VERY unpleasant sensation."

Shelby crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, I guess I cain believe that all right." She looked each Cartwright in the eye. "I 'spect each one a ya had the experience, many a time." All the boys nodded.

She turned back to Adam. "But ya said he talked his way out of it?"

Adam answered, "Masterfully. Even though she'd threatened ... hmm, I believe she threatened to boil you in oil, didn't she?"

Ben narrowed his eyes, his voice darkening along with his face. "You were spying on us?"

Adam managed to get up from the table fast enough this time and moved to a safer distance, over by the bar. He turned to face his father, throwing out a hand, as he explained in what he hoped was a logical tone. "Pa, Ma was livid and I don’t have to tell you, when she was livid, she rarely whispered. I could have heard it all, right from my bed, but then ... " He couldn't hold in his grin. "But then I would have missed seeing you with fudge all over your face."

Ben ran his hand down over his jaw, to cover his own smile, but Joe was still sitting on his knee and could plainly see the twinkle in Pa's eye. The boy grinned.

"How did ya talk her out of stayin' mad at ya, Pa?" He envisioned his ma's threat, a little too vividly, and grimaced. "Or keep her from boilin' ya in oil?"

Shelby gave a sharp nod. "Yeah, how?"

Ben's eyes widened as they shot back to the son at the bar. Adam's eyes seemed to triple in size when they met his father's. He called out, hurriedly, "I didn't stay for most of that last part, Pa." He spit into his hand and held it up. "I swear."

Holding his son's gaze for a long uncomfortable moment, Ben nodded, then turned back to Shelby. He cleared his throat. "Well ... " He blushed, then licked his lips. He could almost taste the fudge on them as he remembered standing in that New Orleans kitchen, facing brown eyes spitting fire. He turned to Joe, suddenly realizing the boy was holding his breath. Ben patted the child's knee and waited for him to exhale.

"I assure you, Little Joe, your mother would never have had me boiled in oil. But she certainly had a way frying me with those eyes of hers." His gaze shifted to Shelby. "However, as Adam implied, I managed to extricate myself from that uncomfortable predicament." He wouldn't tell them the whole story, but he told them enough, to satisfy their curiosity on how he got himself out of the sticky situation ....

~~~~~~~~

Marie had begun to tap her foot, waiting for a more reasonable explanation from her husband's lips. Her eyes scoured his face. The smudges of fudge were everywhere - on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead.

The more her eyes told him about the whereabouts of the evidence, the more Ben grasped for anything to say. A smile twitched at the corners of his lips, so he quickly dropped his eyes, to stare into the crock he was still clutching.

'Uh, Marie, there is still some fudge left, if you would like some.'

Pressing her lips into a stiff line, Marie snatched the container from his hands. Peering into it intently, she shook her head, then snapped her attention back to his face.

'I see no fudge in here. I see it only on your face - it is everywhere! You look very much like Erik just now.'

Ben cleared his throat, doing his utmost to look sheepish. 'Yes ... I expect I do. But ... you see ... that is how I can share it with you.' He lifted a hopeful eyebrow.

Marie's eyebrows dove as she gestured sharply at the barren crockery. 'How will Erik help me have fudge that is not in here?'

Ben pointed to his cheek. 'No, it is here.' He continued to point to each smudge, 'and here and here ...' He pointed to the one over his lip. 'And here.' He watched her eyes as they followed his finger, then shifted to his eyes, playfully looking back into hers. He saw the lines in her face begin to melt, as her lips fought a losing battle over the smile tugging them.

Ben suggested, eyebrows lifting, 'And ... if you kissed me, you could have a taste of your fudge. It really was delicious, Marie.'

~~~~~~~

Shelby's lips twitched then split into a grin. "Well, I'll be danged."

Joe hugged his father's neck and Ben squeezed him tight. But soon the piece of the puzzle that nagged at him earlier got to be too much to ignore. His gaze shifted to his eldest, who stood waiting for the inevitable interrogation.

"So, after this incident, Marie no longer hid the fudge? She gave that task to you?"

"Yes, Pa."

Ben waited, the expression on his face demanding a full explanation.

"Well, Pa, when she realized you might have too good an idea of how her mind worked ... that you might figure out, each time, where she would logically put the crock ... she decided to give the job to someone else. If you knew I was hiding it, maybe you might have guessed MY hiding places too. But she figured if you thought SHE was hiding it, you'd only think of her possible hiding places, not mine." He winked at Shelby. "And Marie was right."

Shelby slapped her knee, "Now THAT was one smart lady!"

Joe gave a whoop. "That's my ma all right!"

Ben pulled his youngest to him again, agreeing with a smile, "Yes, she was certainly one very smart lady." His smile widened as he exchanged it with all his sons, his eyes lingering on Adam as once again he found himself wondering what secrets had passed between his wife and his eldest, that he still didn't know about.

The saloon doors burst open and Rocky Weston swaggered through them, followed by half a dozen other men. He waved his hand at Joe.

"Servin' 'em kinda young, ain't ya, Shelby?"

The bartender rose, with a roll of her eyes. But she paused a moment to look at each member of the Cartwright family, her eyes filled with warmth. "Well, looks like the party's over folks. But thanks. I really appreciate it."

The men got louder as they found their favorite tables and Shelby turned away, to stroll around behind the bar.

Ben stood and set Joe on the floor. "Well, boys, we have a wagon to load, don't we?"

"Yes, sir," they answered in unison.

He looked at Adam, lifting a challenging eyebrow. "The work will be good for me. It'll give me time to think more - on everything that was said here this afternoon."

When Hoss and Adam exchanged glances, Joe laughed. The older boys got ahead of their father, on the way to the Trading Post, since Ben volunteered to bring the wagon and Joe volunteered to ride with him. But the older brothers weren't so far ahead that Ben couldn't hear Hoss' advice.

"Aw, Adam, you know Pa's bark is worse than his bite."

Adam slipped an arm across his brother's beefy shoulders, shaking his head.

"That's easy for you to say, brother. You aren't the one in danger of being bitten!"

THE END.

(January 2006)

(1) A direct and most delightful quote, from Bonanza episode, "Ponderosa Matador!"

(2) Reference: Ponderosa episode "Quarantine."

(3) Reference: Ponderosa episode "Secrets and Lies."

(4) The earliest reference I can find for fudge, the candy, is 1886 (Source: Online "Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia"). However, other meanings of the word were initially spawned in 1700 or before, apparently due to the reputation of a sea captain by the name of Fudge, who was an out and out liar. I felt this gave me just cause to "fudge the facts", in order to bring you this story (Source: The Compact Edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford University Press, 1971.)

(5) Reference: The author’s story, "No Matter What the Circumstances."