Summary:  Every parent–and kid–has that kind of day. Patience is tested, and tears are shed…but at the end of the day, a father’s love endures.
Word Count:  1875    Rated: G

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Love Me? 

This was not, he had to admit, the first time they had gone head to head. It was however, the first time he had done so alone, without the aid of the soothing angel who alone was able to keep reign on the little copy.

Yes, sir, if they made it through this, then he would be a changed man! 

In more ways than one, he thought, ruefully, certain a new batch of gray was creeping along his once dark hair.

The little maiden herself stood before him, carbon copy of the man who faced off with her now. She was a daddy’s girl in looks, right down to the dark, luxurious lashes that curled above dark eyes. Ringlets tossed in annoyance at his supposed stupidity, and the mamma’s girl–as she was, in every particle of spirit and heart–left no doubt as to whose temperament she had won. 

This is not to say that the child loved the man before her any less…quite the contrary, she loved him to a fault. Mamma doted, and Daddy did not…and that was where the flaw came in. Mamma could be depended upon to let the five year old get her own way, after all, and Daddy stood firm. 

“Isabel, this is not up for discussion.” 

The dark, curl-adorned head fastened it’s gaze on his eyes. Full name already? 

“You will wear this dress, and you will stop this fussing!”

She shook her head, decidedly, as if there could be no doubt about her own will being fulfilled, at any rate. “Mamma lets me choose!” 

“Isabel. Now.” 

That was an order the little queen never dared to ignore, and she snatched the hated dress from his grasp. 

Adam sighed. One down, who knew how many more to go, before Emma returned. 

***

The next scuffle was directly after lunch–some invention conceived in the throes of desperation–and brought about by a person Adam would have least supected to rouse the sleeping dragon. 

In truth, though, and if he were playing fair…he would have to admit that the erruption was really his own fault. Bella was this way because she was allowed to be, of course. 

She was at the age where naps were forbidden yet needed territory, and he had just made up his mind to send her to bed, when what should he hear but a buggy.

For one crazy, hopeful moment, he thought it might be Emma, back early…but, alas, it was none other than his brother. 

“Howdy, Adam!” 

Adam nodded, and waved. His brain whirled as his heart tried to convince his head that Hoss didn’t know any better. 

“I see you brought the kids.” He commented dryly, and Hoss grinned. 

“Yep! Jennie set to cleaning, and we hadta clear out, sure enough, else she’d sweep us up!” 

Adam could see delicate Jennie doing just that, and he had to smile. Besides, it’s not like Josh and Halle are any sort of trouble, he reasoned. 

Right? 

***

Sure, right. What could go wrong? 

How could he have been so stupid? 

Hoss gathered up his dirt-encrusted young ones, and shot an apologetic glance at Adam, which only made him feel worse. How dare Hoss apologize for something he had no hand in? That his children had simply been bystanders in? 

“I shore am sorry, Adam. Didn’t mean for it ta work out this way.” 

Adam smiled–granted, it was pinched–and clapped his brother on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Hoss. It wasn’t your fault.” 

Thus consoled, Hoss, children, and buggy departed. 

Adam spun to face his daughter, just as dirty and thrice as impatient at the end of the game. 

Which, apparently, had been dirt baths, or some such nonsense. Purposeful mess-making was a better name for it. 

“Isabel Marie Cartwright, you had better have an explanation for this!” 

And, he added silently, I’d better think of one for Emma. 

She stared at him, big dark eyes welling up in what appeared to be tears. 

He exhaled, angry at himself and her. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy! It’s an accident!” 

He doubted that, but, then why was he bending to her ploys? 

She knew she had won. When the redeeming order to “clean it up” came, she nodded, solemnly, and laughed as only a five-year old can inside herself.

*** 

About the same time as he heard the crash, he realized it had been too long since he’d heard any noise from the spitfire. 

Taking the steps at his accustomed two at a time, he reached the spot of the calamity in record time. 

A vase lay shattered on the floor. More importantly, it lay shattered on the floor of a room Bella had no business in! 

“Isabel!” 

Curls swung out, and the meek criminal appeared before him. “I knocked it, Daddy.” 

“I can see that! Who gave you permission to be in this room, young lady?” 

“No one, Daddy.” 

He stared at her, in her calm and tranquil ease, and she stared at him, in his simmering angry state. 

“Correct. Would you mind telling me why you are in here, then?” 

She shrugged, and thought better of it when he stepped towards her. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” 

That had been used once before today. “Isabel, I’ve had it. You may spend the rest of the day in your room.” 

She stared up at him, unblinking. What? Daddy was so mean! “All day? Mamma-” 

“Isabel! Mamma doesn’t do what I’m about to, either!” 

She backed out, and he heard her door shut in quiet disgust. 

The vase glared at him in all it’s ugly fury, as if the spirit of the little queen still lingered in the fragments. 

***

About a half-hour later, the darling was at his elbow. “Daddy? Can I go outside? Please?” 

The please did it to Mamma every time, and Daddy couldn’t really mean the rest of the day, could he? 

He could. 

“No. I believe I told you to stay in your room, Isabel.” 

“But Daddy! I wanna play!” 

“And I want you to behave!” 

“That’s no fair!” 

He resisted the urge to do more than lift her, carry her back to her room, and shut the door. 

He rested his head on the table-top. 

***

Feeling guitly, the least bit, he ventured to her room before dinner. The indignation and anger that swept him when he saw her room empty was righteous, indeed, and his furrowed brow made it clear that the little queen had reached the end of the ride. 

He strode outside, boots pushing through the dust, eyes alert for the dark-haired little imp. 

When he found her, his heart burned cold. 

The stream ran with unusal strength this year, especially in this season, and there she was, suspended over the water. 

Before his voice could make it, she had fallen in. 

Fallen. 

He sprang forward, and what took place all happened so fast he forgot it afterward. 

He yanked her from the stream, and she clung to his neck, no trace of the pertinent little miss remaining. 

And then, when they had reached the house, he did something he had never done before. 

He punished her in anger. 

The door shut on her sobs, and he rested his warmed palm on his stubbly cheek. Lord. How did he make it this far? 

***

He lay there, pillow clamped in between his teeth, trying not to cry. The body beside him shifted, and a warm arm crept carefully over his side. 

“Adum?” 

Sniffle. 

“I luvs ya, Adum.” 

He didn’t trust himself to speak. 

“What ya done were real bad, Adum. Pa said so.” 

Silence. 

“He luvs ya, too.” 

As the night wore on, he was convinced his Pa didn’t love him, not really…or else why would he have done what he had? 

I’ll never do that to my kids, he thought bitterly, Never!

But he awakened to the touch of his Pa’s hand, gentle and strong, on his back. 

And he decided, in the sleepy silence of the love between them, that maybe his Pa did love him. Maybe that was why he did what he had to. 

Adam groaned, and knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. He hated himself for failing, for doing this…but, when he thought about it, he would have done the same, even had he given himself time to cool off. 

Still. 

He rolled over, and came face to face with a wet one. 

“Bella! You scared me!” 

She burst into sobs, and he sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the too-empty bed. Strong arms gathered her into him, and she rested her head on his chest. It comforted her to hear the heart beat steadily within. 

He rocked her, pausing only when she stopped his movement to look up into his face. 

“Daddy? Do you love me?” 

The arms tightened around her, as if desiring to block out the fear and doubts the words invoked. “Of course. Daddies never stop loving their children, moppet.” 

“Even when they’re awful bad?” She gulped, tremulously, and tangled her fingers in his shirt. 

“Even then.” 

“How do they do that, Daddy?” 

“God made them like that, Bella. When you love someone, you do what you have to, even when it hurts you…to hurt them.” 

She shuddered, quietly, and cuddled up to him. “I love you, Daddy.” 

He dropped a kiss onto the sweet-scented head. “I love you, moppet.” 

***

Emma arrived back in high state, welcomed by her husband and daughter, the former kissed on her arrival; the latter subjected to no end of lavish affection. 

It wasn’t until that night that the two, husband and wife, were able to talk. 

“And how is Kaya?” 

“Doing well, darling, and such a boy! He kicks and screams…has Pat’s lungs, I fear.” 

Adam chuckled, and pulled her down to him. “I’ve missed you.” He nuzzled into her neck, and she shivered from the warm breath. 

“I’ve missed you, Adam.” 

He was tempted to forego on the whole conversation, but he sat up, taking her hand. 

“Emma, we need to talk.” 

“What about, love? You look so serious.” 

“Bella.” 

“Oh? Is she all right? She wasn’t sick, was she, you know she needs-” 

“Em. She gets away with murder, you know.” 

“Oh, Adam. I will not have my baby spoiled by harshness!” 

“And I will not have her killed because of disobedience!” 

Emma looked at him, seemingly disbelieving. “Killed? What happened?” 

The stream incident took little time to convey, and he saw every emotion play out over her expressive face. “Adam. We might…might have lost her.” 

“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “We can’t risk it, Emma. She needs a firmer hand, and if you love her…” 

“Then you do what you have to.” She finished, and leaned in to kiss him. “When you love someone, you take care of them. Right?” 

He nodded, running his hand down her cheek. “Exactly right.” 

So, to all the times when the child had occasion to wonder if he “loves me?”, then the answer was given. 

And this child grew up to pass it on, to learn that love doesn’t change when it is that kind of love, and that there can be no doubt where there is the best kind of love. 

The End

 

Brandsters Note: Thank you to Corina-Zoeller for forwarding this story to include within this project.