Sometimes the best of intensions lead to the worst results. A new father learns a lesson.

Standard disclaimers: Characters of The Sentinel belong to Pet Fly and company. Not me. Nuts. I'm doing this for fun, not money.

Rating: G, of course. This is family stuff.

My thanks to Cindy for catching a few, okay a number, of errors in this little ditty. Any remaining booboos are mine alone.

Many thanks to my head cheerleader, friend, beta-reader and fanny-kicker, BCW. This wouldn't get done without her. Well, it'd get done, just never see the light of day. One of these days I'll even post these babies to Senfic...maybe.


A Drift
by Klair

January, 1874

Another involuntary shiver raced down Blair's spine when a cold blast of wind blew under his hat to bite his face. He tried to snuggle deeper into the hard, but warm chest at his back. He bit back a whimper at the rising howl of the relentless icy wind. Blair sat in his father's lap in the saddle as Sentry slowly plodded forward against the strong gales. Even buttoned snugly under the elder Ellison's buffalo coat, hat wedged firmly on his bowed head and a scratchy wool scarf wrapped around his neck, mouth and nose, the frigid air still found a way in. Blair had never been more cold in his life.

"You all right, Little Bit?"

Blair shivered and nodded at the shouted question, barely heard over the storm. A large strong arm moved across his body, pinning him tighter to the heat source at his back. Blair relaxed a bit in the awkward embrace. Papa was here. Everything would be all right.

James Ellison tightened his hold on the precious cargo beneath his coat. For the countless time, he mentally berated himself for being a damned fool. He should have left Blair at home where he'd be safe and warm. He let those beseeching, big, blue eyes of his little boy override his better judgment.

They had ridden out to check on the herd of horses in the far north pasture then spent a delightful hour romping in the powdery snow. He gave into a small smile at the memory of Blair's laughter when they slid down the hillside time and again using his buffalo coat as a toboggan. Even with winter gear on the two had gotten quite wet from roughhousing. They had such a wonderful time that Jim hadn't noticed the darkening sky until the wind started to pick up. He cut their games short and plunked a now mildly pouting Blair in Sentry's saddle. Swinging up behind the boy, he tried to out run the fast approaching storm. Mistake number two.

After less than a hour of riding, the storm overtook them. Jim had been concentrating on the trail ahead with such focus that he almost jumped out of the saddle when Blair wiggled back in his lap in an attempt to get closer. In a show of comfort, the rancher moved a gloved hand from the reins to pat the little hands clutching the saddlehorn. A curse escaped his mouth to be swallowed by the growing howl of the wind. One of Blair's gloves were missing, exposing a bare hand to the harsh elements. Jim quickly unbuttoned his coat and tucked the chilled boy inside, rubbing front and sides to try to work some warmth back into the little body. That had been an hour ago and, at the rate they were trudging through the rising drifts of snow, he had no idea how long it would be before they reached home. The rancher cursed himself again when another shiver went through the little boy in his lap. He should never have brought Blair along. The boy deserved better than to have a damned fool for a father.

Only the occasional glimpsed landmark kept the rancher urging them in the right direction. Jim could barely see a few feet in front of them. He needed to find them shelter quickly before they all froze to death. Sentry stopped abruptly. No prodding from Jim would get the mighty stallion to budge. The rancher understood the reason, the almost blinding wind and snow. Jim patted the quivering horse's neck in sympathy.

Through the swirling snow, Jim spied a familiar outcropping of rocks and made a decision. He took off Blair's hat and readjusted the scarf so it covered his head. The boy turned a stunned face to him.

Jim shouted over the howl of the wind, "Blair. I need you to turn around."

After the boy obeyed, Jim buttoned his coat up further and gave his bewildered child more instructions.

Bending down to put his mouth right next to Blair's ear to be heard over the storm, Jim spoke calmly as if addressing a skittish new colt. "That's good, Little Bit. Now, put your arms around my neck and hold tight around my waist with your legs. We're going to have to lead Sentry up to that old mine on the hill." At the boy's shutter, Jim rubbed his back in soothing little circles. "It's our only chance at shelter."

Jim dismounted and began leading his horse with one hand while supporting Blair with the other. He predicted Blair's reaction to their destination. Last October Jim spent a frantic hour searching their valley for a missing Blair. He finally located the frightened boy in the, categorically forbidden, old mine by following the sounds of Blair yelling for help. The mine, a remnant from a previous tenant, never produced a cent. Two shafts split off from the main and went back
almost ten feet. While the right shaft went straight back before ending, the left had the beginnings of a downward shaft dug out about eight feet deep. It was in this dark pit that Jim found Blair. After pulling the trembling child from the crude shaft he'd fallen in, Jim alternated between giving hugs and scoldings all the way home. Jim's final commentary on the episode had Blair eating his supper standing up that evening. Jim boarded up the entrance to the mine after that, even though Blair insisted he'd learned his lesson. No sense taking unnecessary chances he thought back then. He chided himself again for not taking his own advice this day.

After what seemed like endless hiking through the hip deep snowdrifts, the site of Blair's fall "adventure" came into view. Jim gently removed a reluctant Blair from under his coat so he could attack the boards he'd put up to prevent anyone else from wandering into the old mine. The rancher pushed his numbing fingers to work quickly to make an opening big enough for Sentry to get through, all the while very aware of Blair standing in waist deep snow shivering. Satisfied with his crude work, Jim grabbed up Blair and Sentry's reins to enter their haven.

Blair stood almost up to his waist in snow, the freezing wind quickly sapping the warmth from his body while he watched his father pry boards from the mine entrance. He trembled. Not just from cold, but from unease as well. He still visited this place in his nightmares. A deep pit. Total darkness. Calling for Jim until his throat rasped. Jim had forbidden him from this place, but his curiosity couldn't let it go. A left turn instead of a right and he found himself falling into a deep shaft. Deep to him anyway. The top stood a good four feet above his head. Climbing the steep walls only left his hands with little cuts and scrapes. When his torch light went out, he began to panic. The total darkness of the pit left him totally disoriented. He couldn't see his
hand in front of his face, even right against his nose! It'd seemed an eternity before Jim appeared. Relief overwhelmed him. He vaguely remembered the stern lecture that followed, cut short by crushing bear hugs, and the punishment that came when they got home. The only vivid
memories that persisted were the eeriness of total darkness and the comfort of Jim's embraces after being found.

The embrace became real when his papa scooped him up out of the snow and into the mine. Blair hid his face against his father's shoulder, more to block out the view than the icy wind. His father carried him to the end of the main shaft, the unrelenting wind still able to reach them with a strong gusts.

"Blair, I'm going to put Sentry in the right side shaft and bring our gear over here where we'll wait out the storm," He heard his father say while feeling himself being pried from his safe haven. He resisted to no avail. Papa gently, but firmly, set him down with a reassuring pat
on the shoulder. "I'll be right back, Little Bit, and then I'll make a fire."

Blair listened to his father lead Sentry to the adjoining shaft while softly singing one of Blair's favorite tunes. "He flies through the air with the greatest of ease. The daring young man--"

The soothing sound of his father's singing steadied Blair's nerves. He joined in to ward off the bad memories and the howling wind. "...On the flying trapeze..."

Though hearing his father's voice helped, Blair was greatly relieved when he returned with his bedroll and saddle bags.

"Looks like we're going to get to do a little camping." Blair smiled weakly at the forced light tone of his father's voice. He tried to be brave.

"I'm going to the front to collect those boards so we can make a fire," he heard his papa's calm voice nearby in the darkness and the sound of a hand patting blankets. A familiar strong hand gripped his shoulder to maneuver him on to the spread out bedroll. "You sit on this and take
off those damp clothes. We'll get you warmed up and then under the covers to wait this tempest out."

Too tired and scared to protest, Blair obeyed.

He'd just gotten his wet boots off his chilled feet when his father returned with the firewood. After breaking up the lumber even further, Jim coaxed the damp wood into smoldering flames. Soon they were sitting under blankets, in their drawers, next to a small fire. Their damp clothes hung around the shaft to dry. They put their chilled feet as close to the fire as possible to warm them while chewing quietly on some jerky from the rations Jim had in his bags.

When a wild burst of wind sent more icy air into the shaft, Blair huddled closer to his father's side. The forceful breeze moved the flames about in a wild dance. The howling outside increased and the boy's shivering returned. Blair was comforted by the embrace of Jim's arm around him. He wiggled his bare toes by the fire, grateful for even the small amount of heat the small blaze provided.

"Warming up?" At his nodded reply, his father commanded, "Good, get in the bedroll and I'll tell you a story."

In the process of obeying, Blair stopped, fixing his parent with a skeptical eye. "I thought you didn't know any stories."

"I never said that, Little Bit. I said I don't know how to make up stories. Unlike a certain little boy I know," Jim teased while coaxing the boy further into the blankets. He lay down next to Blair to add his body heat, hoping to keep his son warm enough after the flames died down.

"The story I'm going to tell you was told to me when I was about your age. It was told to me by the man who taught me almost everything I know about horses. Certainly all the important things."

Blair snuggled close, the warmth, food and events of the day began to make his eye lids droop. "Your papa?" he asked with a yawn.

"No. My father wasn't much into telling stories, unless he could read them out of the Bible. Ethan told me these. Now listen."

"Who's Ethan?"

Blair waited while Jim scrubbed his face with his free hand.

"Ethan was head of my family's stables. He was a slave and died peacefully in his sleep shortly before I went off to West Point."

Blair stilled at this explanation. A slave?

"Do you miss him?"

"Yes, Little Bit. I do. I loved him very much...He was a great man."

"I'd like to hear his stories."

Blair closed his eyes, and forgot all about their troubles, as his father began to tell the tale. "This is the story of Brer Fox and Brer Rabbit and a briar patch..."

Jim felt Blair drop off near the end of the second story about Brer Rabbit and the tar baby. He blessed the timing. The fire had almost died out. He knew it wouldn't last the hour, leaving them in near total darkness. Jim searched his memories for something to take Blair's mind off their prediciment before that happened. The rancher had spent too many nights after their first "adventure" here comforting Blair from nightmares of being lost in the dark. He hadn't thought of those old stories or of Ethan in years. Jim chuckled quietly. He should have known he couldn't drop a name without his ever-questioning son wanting all the details. He'd loved Ethan more than his own father, finding any excuse to be in the stables with the kind, but firm, old colored man.
Blair's acceptance of Ethan meant a great deal to him. Jim placed a soft kiss on top of the curly head resting against his chest. The storm still raged outside and now without the need to comfort his son, Jim returned to kicking himself about their predicament.

The blizzard could rage from another day to another week. He should have left Blair at home where he'd have plenty of firewood and food. He took stock of their resources. Water wasn't a problem. They had only a day, maybe two of short rations, but the blankets would keep them warm enough to conserve energy. It would be tough, but they could last a week if they had to. Jim amended that thought. They would last, period. He wouldn't fail the boy again. On that note, he drifted into a fitful sleep.

Blair woke out of his dreamless slumber to total darkness. He scootched closer to the warm back behind him. He shut his eyes and pretended they were home in bed. He knew they'd get there just fine. He had every confidence that Papa would see to that. He just wished that it would be
soon The darkness frightened him more than the blizzard outside. It brought back too many bad memories. He wished they could go home now.

He lay there in the quiet darkness, hearing only the soft sounds of his father snoring and Sentry snorting. Not another sound. Not...

He sat up hurriedly, looking toward the shaft entrance and strained to hear.

"Papa!" Blair shouted to the sleeping man next to him, shaking his shoulder vigorously. "The storm, Papa. It's stopped. Wake up!"

Jim Ellison bolted up out of a deep sleep. Blair's words slowly sunk in. He patted the boy's shoulder.

"Wait here. I'll check it out."

The rancher found his boots after a few fumbles in the dark before making his way to the cave entrance. What he estimated as several feet from the entrance his booted feet stepped in cold crunchy snow. He went back to dress and returned with his small camp shovel to dig through the mound of snow that blocked the shaft entrance. After over fifteen minutes of continuous digging he broke through only to have a cold harsh wind plunge down the small hole to whip around his body. The howling could be heard very clearly now. Jim forced himself through the
hole to get a look at their situation. A quick peek confirmed his fears. The blizzard still raged.

Cursing to himself, Jim used some of the remaining lumber to shore up his path to the outside so they could have fresh air and a small amount of light. He made his way back to their camp, wondering how to tell Blair.

"Well, Little Bit, looks like we'll be camping out a might longer," Jim announced, rubbing his hands together as if he relished the idea. "Clothes are dry. Get dressed and then back under the blankets. I'll get us some breakfast and then maybe you can tell me a story."

Jim grabbed his saddlebags to get a meal together while keeping an eye on his son. Blair began to pull his cold, but dry, socks on when he stopped suddenly.

"Papa, I gotta go."

Rummaging through the saddlebags, Jim motioned absently to the other shaft. "Go around the corner."

"But, Papa, that's where..." the small frightened voice trailed off bringing Jim's full attention to the petrified child before him.

"I need to attend to business as well," Jim said casually as he took Blair by a hand and walked them both to the shaft of their earlier misadventures. Within about a foot of the pit that plagued his child's sleep for weeks after his fall, Jim let go of Blair's hand. He nonchalantly as possible went about relieving himself into the dark hole. He smiled, and bit back a chuckle, when he heard Blair do the same. Both finished, Jim felt Blair's hand take his and give it a squeeze before they walked back to their camp. Jim returned the sentiment.

They spent the next two days working on Blair's multiplication tables and spelling words, with plenty of story telling in between. Jim checked on the weather every hour, not pleased that the winds still howled, bringing more snow. The frustration of being so close to home, but unable to get there began to get to the increasingly worried father. He had rationed them to eat two biscuits and a strip of jerky per day. There were only a couple pieces of the tough, dried venison and a few stale biscuits left.

Jim beamed with pride at the little boy catnapping next to him. He had heard the boy's stomach growl throughout their entrapment in the shaft and knew, too, that the inactivity was difficult for the usually boisterous child. Yet, Blair had yet to complain, much, which only served to deepen Jim's guilt about putting his boy at risk. Jim brushed a few of the unruly curls away from the resting boy's eyes.

"You'd have been better off at home."

"Don't like being alone. It's scary. I'd rather be here with you."

The sleepy voice startled the rancher. He hadn't realized he'd spoken his fear out loud.

Knuckling his eyes, Blair sat up on the bedroll and stretched.

"I'm hungry, Papa. When we eatin'?"

In the dim light of the shaft, Jim had no trouble seeing the trust in the big blue eyes looking up to him. He accepted that trust and by doing so put his guilt away to focus on their survival. He'd slaughter his horse if it came down to it. They ate the last of their provisions.

Sometime during the night the howling sound had ceased. Jim took his shovel and dug out the passage to the surface. Going from the almost total darkness to the blinding field of white that greeted him when he broke through stunned the rancher. He could see individual snow flakes. Thousands of them. He stood transfixed, oblivious to all else.

When his papa didn't come back, Blair went to the shaft entrance to find out why. Seeing his father standing so very still, not blinking, reminded him of someone else who used to do that, and he remembered how to make it stop.

Blair put his hand on his father's arm and called quietly. "Papa, it's time to come back now. Papa, can you hear me? It's Blair and you have to come back."

With a start the rancher moved. He felt a bit groggy and surprised to find Blair at his side. Even more surprised at the huge grin gracing the boy's face.

"Papa, you have scissors, too! Just like Uncle Mica." Blair bounced in delight at the discovery.

"What?" Jim asked, worried that the lack of food had made the boy delusional.

"Scissors. Uncle Mica used to look faraway, like you just did, and Aunt Ruthie would touch his arm and call his name, real calm like, to bring him back. I just did that for you!" The bouncy boy finally stopped to take a breath.

"Sciss--? You mean seizures." Jim wiped a hand across his face. "And no I didn't have one." He didn't. Did he? No, just lack of food and sleep. "Just a little spell of some kind. I'm fine now, Little Bit. I'm sure it won't happen again."

Blair puffed up, full of pride. "That's okay, Papa, I know how to bring you back!"

Jim made sure the weather had cleared enough so they would be able to get home this time.

Two and a half hours later, father and son were ensconced in the armchair in front of a roaring fire, ready for another cup of hot chocolate.

Jim sat watching Blair nap contentedly in his lap. The boy hadn't finished his second cup of cocoa before he fell asleep. The beleaguered father couldn't rest though. His mind wouldn't stop playing all the "might have beens" over and over in his head. His indulgence in play had almost cost his son his life.

The little boy's shifting deeper into his side brought Jim back to the moment. Blair had never questioned their getting home. The trust the boy placed in him filled Jim with both pride and fear. How could he live up to the expectation? With a heavy sigh, he rested his head against the back of the chair. He'd take it a day at a time. That's all he could do.

He had learned his harsh lesson well. Never take for granted the gift he'd been given, and guard it well, for it could easily be taken away.

The end