Summary:  Ben tries to find some quiet time to get his ranch accounts in order.
Rating:  G  (5,650 words)

Doing the Books

B … ump!

Ben Cartwright put his elbow on the desk and rested his head on his hand as he continued to write. He stared at the line of figures in front of him and tried to make sense of them as he blinked a couple of times.

B….ump!

Ben looked up. “Joseph, son …. Please don’t do that,” he said in what he hoped was a reasonable tone. His head had begun to throb and the bumping noise that was emanating from the other side of the large room was not helping it any.

Joe bumped down yet another stair on his small backside before looking over at his father. B ….ump! “It’s fun Pa,” he said happily and pushed himself forward down another two stairs. B …ump! B…. ump!

Ben drew a deep breath and counted to five before trying again. “Well it might be fun Joe, but I’m asking you to stop doing it for now please. It’s distracting.”

Joe stopped bumping and thought for a moment. He screwed up his small nose and closed his eyes for a full minute, obviously trying to recall something important. His small index finger found it’s way to his nose and inserted itself in there, as it often did when he was deep in thought. Finally his eyes opened and he put his head on one side. “What’s dis … distrack … ting mean Pa?” he asked.

“It means that you’re disturbing me when I’m trying to work,” said his father, trying to focus on the figures in the ledger before him. Bookwork was not his favourite occupation at the best of times and right now he felt as if he never wanted to see another ledger again. He had been hours already working at these figures and it had only served to put himself and everyone else in a bad mood because of it.

Stuck at home for a full day doing the books was his idea of torture, but he knew that if he didn’t keep on top of the ledgers then he’d regret it. As he was constantly telling Adam, who was now old enough to appreciate such things … a ranch the size of The Ponderosa was only as successful as those who ran it … and the paperwork was a vital part of that. Trouble was that he just couldn’t abide doing it, and consequently tended to put it towards the bottom of his list of priorities with the result that he sometimes had catch-up days like this at his desk to contend with.

B ….ump!

Ben looked up again crossly. “Joseph! I’ve asked you once to stop doing that please!”

Joe stopped bumping, stood up and grabbed hold of the banisters, looking at his father through them as if he were looking out through the bars in a jail cell. “But I got nothing else to do Pa!” he whined.

“Play with your toys,” said Ben absently as he entered a few more numbers into his ledger.

Joe jumped down the remaining stairs and ran noisily over to his father’s desk. He leant his elbows on it and rested his head on his arms as he stared across at his father hopefully. “Will ya come and play with me?” he asked.

Ben shook his head. “I told you before Joe, I’m doing the books. Now please go off and play like a good boy.”

Joe scowled. “Don’t do them books Pa,” he said. “I don’t like it when you do them books.”

Ben sighed and rubbed his temple where he could feel his headache worsening. “Joseph, please do as I ask,” he said impatiently. “Be a good boy and run along.”

Joe stared at his father for another full minute. “Can I go outside?” he asked. “I wanna see the new horses what Adam brought home yesterday.”

“Later,” said Ben absently. “Not now.”

Joe sighed and wandered away to find his toy soldiers. He began to set them up all over the floor and was soon engrossed in a full-scale war with them. Ben concentrated on his figures once more, the only sound in the large room being the ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional battle sound from Little Joe.

Suddenly a loud noise startled Ben and he looked up to see Hop Sing clattering across the room, his arms full of cleaning equipment. “Hop Sing,” said Ben wearily. “I’m trying to work. Do you mind being a bit quieter?”

Hop Sing glared at him. “Hop Sing have work to do too!” he declared. “No can stop just because Mr Cartwright decide stay here for whole day.”

Ben sighed. Hop Sing was always very keen to have them all out of the house every day, as he was constantly complaining that they were always underfoot for his cleaning if any of them stayed at the ranch. He was also an expert at making his displeasure known.

“Well, can’t you clean around here later?” asked Ben. “Do upstairs first or something.”

Hop Sing shook his head. “No,” he said. “Tuesday is day for cleaning downstairs. Always important keep routine.” He began to dust the bookshelves behind Ben’s desk. “Much to do,” he muttered, glaring at his employer meaningfully.

“Well I’ve got a lot to do as well,” said Ben. He waited for the housekeeper to move, but Hop Sing kept dusting as if he hadn’t even heard him. “All right,” Ben said finally. “You do what you have to and so will I.” He picked up his pen again and dipped it into the inkbottle while Hop Sing glared at him from behind his back and continued to dust.

“Hey Pa!” shouted out Little Joe from the other side of the room. “Look at this!”  He motioned to his elaborate battle scene set up on the floor with his soldiers and horses all at the ready.

Ben glanced up. “Very good,” he said absently and then began to write again.

“You wanna play now Pa?” persisted Little Joe.

“No,” said Ben, continuing to write. Joe made a face and then lay down on his stomach and began to make battle noises as he moved his soldiers and horses around.

Hop Sing finished the dusting and picked up a broom. “Move feet,” he instructed Ben, prodding him with the end of the broom. Ben obediently moved his feet, while not pausing in his work. “Now move chair,” said Hop Sing, shoving Ben’s feet back again.

Ben tried to hold onto his temper. “Can you please finish up?” he said. “I really need to …” He caught the look on Hop Sing’s face and shook his head as he pushed his chair backwards. “Hurry up then,” he said and waited for Hop Sing to finish sweeping before he arranged his chair into the right position again. Hop Sing gave him a satisfied look and began to sweep over near the grandfather clock. Ben counted to ten slowly, trying not to yell at the man.

Suddenly the front door opened and Adam appeared. “Pa?” he shouted.

“Over here son,” replied Ben, putting down his pen with a sigh. It seemed that everyone was determined to stop him from working today. “What is it?”

Adam walked over and threw his hat down onto his father’s desk before sitting on the edge of it with one leg crossed over the other. “Just wanted to check on something with you,” he said. “Did you want ….” He stopped as Little Joe launched himself towards him with a loud shout. Adam reeled backwards slightly with the force of his small brother landing on his legs and was forced to pick the child up. “Hi squirt,” he said casually giving him a smile. “Been a good boy?”

Joe wriggled in his brother’s arms. “Will you play soldiers with me Adam?” he asked. “Pa won’t cause he has to do them books.” He gave his father an indignant look.

Adam ruffled his brother’s curly hair. “Sorry buddy,” he said. “I’ve got work to do.”

Joe wriggled down out of his brother’s arms and stood with his hands on his hips. “Everyone’s always got work to do,” he said indignantly.

Adam grinned at him and then turned back to his father. “I needed to check on what you wanted done with the cattle we’ve branded. Did you want them put out to the North pasture?”

As Ben and Adam discussed the ranch business, Little Joe stood impatiently looking from one to the other. Gradually he walked around his father’s desk until he was standing next to him and looked with interest at the ledger on the desk. “What’s all them numbers for Pa?” he asked. There was no answer as Ben continued to speak with his eldest son. “Pa?” persisted Joe, pulling at his father’s sleeve.

Ben stopped. “What?” he asked with a touch of impatience in his voice.

“What’s them numbers for Pa?” asked Joe again, pointing to the large book on the desk.

“I’m doing the books,” said Ben before turning back to Adam again. “I think that you’ll need to …” he began.

Joe made a face at Adam, quite disgruntled that his brother was monopolising their father’s attention in such a way. “But Pa,” he whined, pulling on his father’s sleeve. “I wanna talk to you.” Ben didn’t respond. “Pa!” said Joe again.

Ben turned to him. “Joseph please!” he said. “Go back and play with your toys. There’s a good boy.” He turned to Adam again. “Anything else?” he asked.

“Nope,” said Adam, not moving. He dusted down his trousers. “Sure is hot out there.”

Ben gave him an impatient look. “Well if there’s nothing else, I need to get this finished,” he said, indicating the desk.

Adam made a face. “Is that a hint to leave?” he asked with a grin.

Ben sighed. “I’m sorry son, but I’m really trying to get this done.”

Adam stood up. “I can take a hint,” he said. “See you at supper.”

Little Joe sprang forward. “Take me with you!” he shouted. “Please Adam … can I come?”

Adam ruffled the little boy’s curls again. “Sorry buddy,” he said. “I’ve got work to do.”

“I can help!” shouted Joe, running after his brother to the front door. “Adam!” He looked at the door as it closed behind his brother and then gave it a hard kick.

“Joseph!” called Ben. “Stop kicking that door!” Joe looked over his shoulder at his father and then gave the door another hard kick. “Joseph!” shouted Ben. “Stop that!” He picked up his pen again, determined to get through the distasteful task in front of him.  He hid a smile as he saw his son give the door one last small kick and then stomped off to his soldiers again.

“Plenty mud on boots!” complained Hop Sing, sweeping near the front door vigorously. “Always number one son bring mud into house on boots!” Ben ignored him and continued to work, wishing that he were outside with his eldest son having the chance to also get mud on his boots. “Hop Sing get lunch now,” Hop Sing announced gruffly and strode out of the room. He was back within minutes, plonking down a platter full of sandwiches on the table. “Lunch!” he shouted.

Ben stood up, happy to have an excuse to stop work for a moment. “Adam is eating with the men,” he said. “I suppose he told you that this morning?”

Hop Sing nodded and then disappeared into the kitchen. “Well Joe, I suppose it’s just you and me today then,” said Ben as he sat down at the table. “Come and get something to eat.”

“Why can’t Hoss come home from school fer lunch?” asked Little Joe, not moving.

“Because it’s too far,” replied his father, helping himself to a sandwich. “Now come and eat.”

“Why can’t I go to that school with him?” asked Joe, still not moving.

“You will after summer,” replied Ben. “Now come over here and eat your lunch.”

“I wanna go now,” said Joe. “I …”

“Joseph!” said Ben, losing his temper. “Get over here and eat!”

Joe came over to the table and looked at the sandwiches with distaste. “Don’t wanna eat,” he whined. “I’m not hungry.”

“Eat!” said Ben firmly and pointed to his son’s chair. Joe sighed and sat down, nibbling at a sandwich that Ben placed on his plate.

For the next ten minutes Ben ate his lunch and prompted Little Joe to eat his lunch, his eyes on his son and his mind on what he needed to do next with the ledgers. As he listened to the little boy’s chatter he thought about how things used to be just a few months ago when his wife Marie had been there to make lunchtimes fun for both of them and his heart ached to turn back the clock to have things as they used to be before her death.

“… can we Pa?”

Little Joe’s voice pierced through Ben’s thoughts insistently and he looked in surprise at the child next to him. “Can we what?” he asked vaguely.

“Can we go fishin this afternoon?” Little Joe asked hopefully.

Ben shook his head. “I’m sorry, Little Joe,” he said. “But I told you before that I have to do the books today.” He winced as the little boy’s face fell. “I’m sorry son,” he continued. “Maybe another day?”

Joe slid off his chair and headed for the soldiers again. “OK,” he said in a small voice.

“Hey Pa?”

Ben turned to see Adam standing in the doorway. “I thought you were eating out with the men?” he asked.

Adam strode over and picked up a leftover sandwich. “I am,” he said. “We already ate. I just came back for some more rope.” He picked up another sandwich. “These are good,” he said through a full mouth.

Ben stood up. “Well, get your rope and get back to work,” he said shortly. “I’ve got to finish these books.”

“I thought maybe you’d like to come on out and see how much we’ve got through,” said Adam, trying to sound casual. “We’re nearly done,” he added with pride.

Ben nodded. “That’s good,” he said. “But I really can’t leave these accounts unfinished son. I’ll check it out perhaps tomorrow.”

“Sure thing Pa,” Adam said, his face falling at his father’s words. He picked up the last sandwich and waved at Little Joe who sat despondently with his soldiers near the coffee table. “Bye squirt!”

Ben waved absently to his son as the young man headed out of the door. How was it that every time he had a lot of work to do people just seemed to naturally want to drag him away from it? Of course he’d like nothing better than to go out and view the branding, but surely Adam realised that the work he was doing here was vital? He knew that his eldest son needed to prove to his father that he was doing a good job and hence the reason Adam kept wanting Ben to see the work he was doing for himself, but still … a man had priorities when he was running a ranch this large. He would go and reassure the boy tomorrow that what he was doing was right.

Adam had lately taken over as boss in a minor capacity and jobs such as the branding were ways in which he was beginning to assert himself with the men. Ben took great pride in noting that he was handling it very well too and he knew the importance of showing the boy just how proud he was of him. Tomorrow he would make the effort to go out to the branding, view what had been done and tell him so.

He picked up his pen again with a sigh as Hop Sing began to clear the empty plates from the table. All was silent in the room and he glanced over to see that Little Joe had fallen asleep on the floor, one small hand clasping a soldier and the other hand’s fingers twirled around a couple of small curls at the back of his hair.

He smiled as he stood up, crossed the room and picked up the child, depositing him on the settee where he snuggled into a cushion and murmured softly in his sleep. Ben patted the little boy’s curls before returning to his work again and all was once again quiet in the large room. In the kitchen he could hear Hop Sing rustling around with the pots and pans and outside he could hear the soft whinnying of the new horses that Adam had brought in yesterday. All was peaceful as he gave his attention back to the books in front of him.

Several sheets of accounts and several pages later, he looked up and stretched his stiff neck. Little Joe was still asleep, Hop Sing was nowhere to be seen or heard and Ben was suddenly acutely aware of just how large and empty the house seemed. There was a time when it always seemed full of laughter and noise, but that was when Marie …. He shook his head, not allowing his mind to go along a path that would only lead him to self-pity and he glanced at the clock before resolutely picked up another sheet of accounts again. At this rate he would be finished by supper time and be free to get out again tomorrow and do some of the chores that were more agreeable to him.

A noise outside made him glance up and he stood up and twitched back the curtains to see Paul Martin driving his buggy into the front yard. Ben gave a half-smile, not sure whether he welcomed the interruption or not. The doctor was a close friend and he usually looked forward to chatting with him, but these accounts wouldn’t get themselves done and he really couldn’t afford the time today.

“Hop Sing!” he shouted, and then instantly regretted it as Little Joe murmured on the settee. “Hop Sing,” he said in a softer voice, going over to the dining room and looking into the kitchen. “Doctor Martin is here. Please get some coffee for him.”

Glancing at Little Joe to ensure that he was still asleep, Ben then strode over to the front door and opened. “Paul!” he said, shaking the man’s hand. “Nice to see you.”

“I was out at the Henderson place,” said the doctor as he came into the room. “Just thought I might drop by on my way back to town and see how you were going.” He glanced across at the desk laden with papers. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Ben shrugged. “I can take a few minutes off,” he said. “Have some coffee.” He motioned to the chairs near the fireplace. “Don’t worry about this one,” he said as they sat down, indicating Little Joe fast asleep on the settee. “He can sleep through most things.”

Hop Sing brought in coffee and Ben spent the next half hour catching up on all that the doctor had to tell him about the goings-on in town. He tried not to glance at the time, but after his third attempt to keep his eyes off the grandfather clock near the front door, Paul laughed and stood up. “Well I can see that you’ve got things to do,” he said.

Ben made a face. “I’m sorry Paul,” he said. “Only I put today aside to get these books done and …” he shrugged. “You know what it’s like.”

“I certainly do,” replied the doctor. “We’ll catch up another time. Thanks for the coffee.”

As Ben closed the front door behind the man, he thought how nice it would have been to spend some more time in just idle chatter. Somehow, though, there never seemed to be enough hours in the day for such things. He glanced at the clock again, noting how he’d have to work at full speed now to catch up. As he made his way back to his desk, a small curly head appeared from behind the back of the settee.

“I’m awake,” announced Little Joe happily, as if the world could now begin again since he was ready to rejoin it. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and gave a large yawn. “Are we goin fishing now Pa?”

“Not now son,” said Ben. “Why don’t you go and get some milk from Hop Sing in the kitchen?”

“Don’t want no milk,” said Joe easily as he slid down from the settee. He came and stood next to his father and watched for a moment as he wrote in the ledger. “I can do them numbers too,” he announced. “Adam teached me how.”

“Yes, I know,” said Ben absently as he wrote.

“Can I do some numbers Pa?” asked the little boy. Ben slid a piece of paper over towards him and handed him a pencil. “I wanna use a pen like you,” said Joe.

Ben opened his mouth to reply, but before he could do so the front door opened and he looked across to see his middle son Hoss standing in the doorway. “Hoss?” he said in surprise. “What on earth are you doing home so early son?”

Hoss took his hat off and placed it on the credenza before walking slowly over to his father’s desk. Little Joe gave a whoop of delight at his brother’s unexpected appearance and ran around the desk to greet him. “Hi Hoss!” he shouted. “Come and play soldiers with me, huh?”

Hoss shook his head. “Sorry Joe,” he said mournfully. “I can’t.” He held out a piece of paper to his father while giving the man a shameful glance. “This is for you Pa,” he said in a low voice.

Ben put down his pen and took the paper, giving his son a suspicious look before opening it. He had seen that look before on Hoss’ face before and he knew that it almost certainly meant trouble at school. Sure enough, the letter in his hand confirmed it. “This says that you’ve been in a fight at school,” he said sternly. “Would you care to tell me about it?”

Hoss bit his lip. “Well …” he began.

“Come and play, Hoss!” interrupted Little Joe, pulling on his brother’s sleeve. “I got the soldiers all ready for a war!”

Hoss ignored his brother as he gave his father a mournful look. “I couldn’t help it Pa,” he said defensively.

Ben put the letter on the desk and gave his son a stern look. “We can always help things Hoss,” he said. “It’s called making a choice son. Now tell me what happened.”

Hoss drew a deep breath. “Well …” he began.

“Come on Hoss!” Little Joe shouted again. “We can do a war!”

“Joseph!” said Ben. “Leave your brother alone while I’m talking to him!”

Little Joe let go of Hoss’ sleeve and a pout appeared on his face. He looked from Hoss to his father, but when neither of them paid him any attention he walked back to the other side of the desk and picked up his pencil again.

“Well?” prompted Ben.

Hoss looked at the floor as he related how he’d become involved in the fight at lunchtime. Ben listened in silence until the boy had finished. “Look at me Hoss,” he said finally. Hoss looked up. “You know that you did the wrong thing, don’t you son?” asked his father. “No matter what those boys said to you, it is important that you never lose your temper. How many times have I told you that?”

“Lots,” Hoss admitted dolefully. “But Pa …”

Ben held up his hand. “But Pa nothing,” he said. “There is no excuse Hoss. You know that as well as I do. What you did was wrong.”

“Yes Pa,” replied his son, still not looking convinced. “But …”

“But nothing,” interrupted Ben. “I will write a letter to your teacher explaining that you will be punished and you’ll take it back to school tomorrow. There’s no point in you going back there today. Now go and get your chores done.”

“But Pa …” said Hoss. “I wanna tell you bout …”

“I said to get your chores done,” Ben repeated sternly. “We’ll talk about this later when I’ve got more time.”

Hoss looked downcast. “Yes sir,” he said, turning to the door. Ben’s heart constricted as he watched his son leave the room. These fights were becoming more and more frequent and he resolved to talk to the boy about it later when he had more time.

He stared into space for a moment, his mind a jumble of emotions for his second son who found it so hard at times to get on with other children. The problem was that the boy was so big for his age and was often the brunt of other children’s jokes because of it. Ben had tried over and over again to instil in the boy that his strength brought with it a certain responsibility towards others, but there were times when he wondered if he’d really been able to get that through to him. Incidents like this fight at school were a sign that the boy was unhappy and it was Ben’s job as his father to try and help him to work through it.

“I’ll talk to him later,” he said out loud and then caught his breath as he felt a trickling of liquid on his trousers. “Joseph!” he shouted to the small boy next to him. “What have you done?”

Father and son looked down in dismay at the man’s trousers where a trickle of ink was running. Ben’s eyes travelled up to the desk and his eyes widened at the sight of the spilt inkbottle and the large stain of ink over the opened ledger from where it was dripping onto his trousers.

Little Joe took a step backwards, his face dissolving in dismay. “I didn’t mean to!” he declared, his small hands going instinctively behind his back to cover his small behind. “I was trying to do them numbers for you Pa!”

Ben cursed himself for not watching the child. “You’re a naughty boy!” he shouted, trying to mop up the ink from the ruined pages with his handkerchief. “You had no right to touch my pen and that ink!”

“But I was trying to help!” declared Little Joe as he began to sob. “I thought you would play with me when you finished them books and I was trying to help ya finish Pa!”

Ben sighed in exasperation, pulled the child towards him and gave him two quick swats on his small backside. “Don’t you ever try anything like that again!” he shouted. “Now get up to your room and stay there, young man!”

Joe ran sobbing across the room and then turned as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “I hate them old books!” he shouted facing his father defensively.

“Get to your room!” shouted Ben.

Joe made a face at his father. “Them old books is dumb!” he shouted, unabashed. “I hate them and I hate you!” He turned and ran up the stairs as fast as his small legs would carry him, leaving his father staring after him in shock. Never before had one of his sons told him that he hated him, and although he knew the words to be merely the child’s way of expressing his exasperation with the situation, they still came as quite a blow to him.

Ben sat and mopped up the rest of the spilt ink, noting with dismay that a good few hours’ worth of work would have to be done again due to the ink-blotted pages. He sighed as he sat and stared at the ledger, not feeling in the least inclined to begin again.

It seemed that everything had been against him today in getting this work done. First there was Hop Sing making it difficult to concentrate and Paul Martin’s visit interrupting his train of thought. Adam had constantly wanted his attention outside and Hoss’ situation niggled at the back of his mind as he felt guilt at not taking the time to talk to the boy properly about where he’d gone wrong. And Joseph. The child had demanded his attention all day and Lord knows that he’d given him very little of it.

Ben felt a number of regrets as he thought back through his day. It seemed that everyone had needed him and rather than give them his time, all he’d done was turn his back on them to get a chore done that hadn’t been finished after all. Instead of helping his three boys and taking some time for himself with Paul Martin, he’d ended up accomplishing nothing and upsetting everyone into the bargain.

One son was out there somewhere on the ranch trying desperately to prove himself a man without his father’s support. One son was in the barn needing his father’s guidance about how to deal with his problems. One son was sobbing in his room because his father hadn’t bothered to give him the attention he’d needed and had yelled at him when he’d only been trying to help.

Ben stood up and walked over to the grandfather clock, looking at his reflection in the glass casing as he stared at the hands ticking slowly around. “Not a very clever day’s work Ben,” he said to his reflection.

“What you say?” demanded Hop Sing from behind him.

“Nothing,” replied Ben. “Just realising how stupid I’ve been today is all, Hop Sing.”

Hop Sing nodded as if he agreed and then flounced out of the room again, muttering something about getting ready for supper.

Ben looked at the hands of the clock again and sighed, realising that with all the work he had to redo, there’d be no way he’d get those books finished by suppertime. Suddenly he felt as if there was no point in trying anyway, for they would still be there when he had time for them, whereas the people who mattered in his life needed him now. After all, what was more important? The books or his boys? Ben smiled at his reflection and realised that it was probably the first time he’d smiled all day.

“No contest,” he said firmly, knowing that his boys should win every time.

“You say something Pa?” asked Adam.

Ben started as he realised that his eldest son was standing next to the credenza in the entryway, looking at him strangely. “You back already?” he asked.

“Yep,” replied Adam. “We finished early,” he added with a touch of pride in his voice.

Ben walked over and put his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you son,” he said sincerely. “That’s a job well done.” He smiled as he noted the pleased look that came on his eldest boy’s face at his words. “I’m riding out with you first thing in the morning to take a look at that cattle,” he said. “I want to see for myself what you’ve accomplished today.”

Adam’s face lit up. “OK,” he said happily. “You finish the books then?”

Ben shook his head. “No,” he said. “But they can wait. There are some things that are more important. Speaking of which … did you happen to see Hoss on your way in?”

Adam jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the front door. “He’s in the barn doing his chores,” he said. “Doesn’t look too happy if you ask me though. I asked him what was the matter, but he wouldn’t talk to me about it.”

Ben nodded. “He’s had problems at school again. Please go and ask him to come inside son,” he said. “I need to talk to him and it can’t wait.” He waited until Adam had nodded and left the room before turning towards the living room again, smiling as he caught sight of a small figure sitting at the top of the stairs, sobbing quietly. “Come down here Little Joe,” he said, motioning to his youngest son.

Little Joe needed no second bidding, but stood up and practically ran down the stairs, flinging himself into his father’s arms with a loud sob. “I don’t really hate ya Pa!” he sobbed into Ben’s shoulder.

“I know,” said Ben soothingly, rubbing the little boy’s back. “And I’m sorry that I yelled at you like I did.”

Joe leant back in his father’s arms and stared at the man sadly. “I didn’t mean ta make that book all messy,” he said contritely.

Ben ruffled his curly hair. “I know,” he said. “Now how about you go and set up those soldiers of yours again? We can have a game before supper if you like.”

The little boy’s face lit up immediately and Ben thought about how mercurial this third boy of his was, going from one emotion to another in the blink of an eye. “Ya mean it?” Joe asked excitedly.

Ben nodded as he placed the boy on his feet and gave him a small swat on his backside to head him in the direction of the fireplace where the soldiers lay in disarray. “I sure do,” he said. “I need to have a talk with your brother Hoss and then I
am all yours until supper time.”

He laughed as his youngest son ran towards his toys and then smiled at Hoss as he came into the room. “Adam said ya wanted to see me Pa,” the boy said.

“Over here son,” Ben said, sitting down and motioning the boy towards him. “We need to talk.”

Hoss gave his father a thoughtful look. “You sure you got the time right now Pa?” he asked.

Ben nodded. “I sure do,” he said sincerely. “I’ve got all the time in the world for things that matter son. All the time in the world.”

The End