Summary: Pa’s point of view is highlighted as he puts his own spin on the story that Little Joe told in “Forever in My Heart” regarding his youngest son’s penchant for coming home late. Rating T, WC 6,402

Forever in My Heart Series

Forever in My Heart #1 

Forever in My Heart #2 

Forever in My Heart #2

***Now, while we’re here alone, and all is said and done.  Now I can let you know because of all you’ve shown.  I’ve grown enough to tell you.  You’ll always be inside of me.  How many roads have gone by?  So many words left unspoken.  I needed to be by your side.  If only to hold you.  Forever in my heart.  Forever, we will be.  And even when I’m gone, you’ll be here with me.  Forever.  Once, I dreamed that you were gone.  I cried out trying to find you.  I begged the dream to fade away.  And please awaken me.  But night took a hold of my heart.  And left me with no one to follow.  The love that I lost to the dark I’ll always remember.  Forever in my heart.  Forever here you’ll be.  Know that when I’m gone, you’ll be near to me.  Forever in my life.  Always thought I’d be.  I’d be yours. Forever.  (Song: Forever, lyrics by Kenny Loggins, Eva Ein Loggins, and David Foster.) ***

Sometimes I wonder why I ever became a father.  Well, other than the obvious reasons of course.  I stared around the room and for what was probably the one hundredth time that night my eyes stopped when they fell on that grandfather clock near the front door.  I didn’t have to count heads; I knew which one was missing as usual.  Both Adam and Hoss had put in a long day and had turned in hours ago.  As a father, I’d have to say those boys are hard workers and, in that respect, they take after their old man.  Two fine sons, obedient, courteous and mindful of what I tell them.  They say in business if you are two thirds successful you’ve done well.  Then I suppose I can say as a father I have done well.  Now that’s not to say either one of them is perfect, but neither am I.  But through the years I’ve always been able to depend on them.  I have no qualms about leaving the ranch in their care when I go away on trips.  Everything runs just as smoothly as if I’m sitting behind my desk handling it.  Adam and Hoss, yes, two sons who make their father proud.

And then there’s Joseph.  I glanced over at the clock once again.  It was two in the morning.  He had said he was just going into town to get the mail and coming right back.  Why in the world I ever agreed to that I have no idea!  I don’t believe that he’s EVER gone into town and back without there being some kind of drama.  Either that boy gets into a fight at the Silver Dollar Saloon and I’ve got to ride into town and bail him out or the kid gets hurt and I’ve got to go see Doc Martin who’s busy putting him back together.  Why is it that my youngest has been the hardest to raise?  I have experience and age going for me, whereas Joseph has arrogance and charm.  Those two traits of his are the bane of my existence.  I remember telling him right here at the door where I happen to be standing now, looking out to see if there’s a pinto riding up with her disobedient master, that he had to come right back.  Joseph had smiled so graciously and told me “Oh, Pa, I’ll be right back, don’t worry!”  I should’ve known his “right back” meant into the wee hours of the morning.

Shaking my head wearily and wondering whether I should go ahead and get into my bedclothes, I walked across the room and sank down into my chair by the fireplace.  I wasn’t going to stoke it again because everyone should be up in their rooms sleeping, including me!  But no.  I’ve got to sit here and worry that something has happened to that kid.

Since the boy turned eighteen two months ago, I thought that maybe he’d start to act more like his two brothers.  Joseph would never be that.  Not that I don’t appreciate the uniqueness he brings to the bunch.  But he could use a little taming for his own good.  Not to mention mine!  Every time I broach the subject of his needing to be more responsible, he turns those blasted puppy dog eyes on me and gives me the old “Oh, Pa, don’t you like me the way I am?”  Naturally that tugs at my heartstrings and makes me have fatherly guilt which he plays upon for his own benefit.

I leaned forward to pour some coffee in order to try and stay awake.  It’s cold.  It wasn’t when I made it three hours ago.  Being far too tired to go into the kitchen and heat it back up, I choked it down.  Then I looked at the clock again.  It was only fifteen minutes later though it seemed like hours.

“Dad burn kid!” I fussed as I walked back over to the front door and peered out.  Nothing was stirring, not even one of the ranch hands in the bunkhouse.  “You’re going to hear it from me when you do fall in here, Young Man!” I muttered and walked back to my chair.

I’m not sure if fatigue was hitting me or not but suddenly my anger towards Joseph became fear that something had really happened to the kid.  What if he was lying on the road somewhere hurt?  He didn’t have much money on him.  That was a sure bet since that boy of mine couldn’t hold onto a dollar if it was nailed onto his hip!  But if some thief crossed his path and saw that new saddle and the good-looking pinto, they might just think that Joseph had something worth stealing.

I dropped my face down into my hands and prayed.  I have probably been a real nuisance as far as the Lord was concerned.  How many times have I asked Him to spare each of my sons?  Many.  How many times has my prayer been for Joseph to come home safely?  Too numerous to count.  But I said the words again.  *** Please bring my youngest home to me, Lord.  Let him return to me unharmed.  Amen. ***

My eyes fell on Adam’s new novel resting there on the coffee table.  I decided to spread out on the settee and read a bit just to pass the time and prevent me from wearing a path to and from the front door.  The cushions eased the tenseness in my back, and I tried not to stare at the clock for at least a few minutes.  The clock must’ve known because it chimed.  It was now two-thirty in the morning.

Somewhere between a knight who was saving a peasant girl who was really part of the royal family and the words “the end” I dozed off.  I pulled myself up and stared over at the grandfather clock again.  I must’ve missed the three chimes as it was a quarter after three now.  It was time to stretch my back and stare out into nothingness again.  I made my way to the front door and peered out.  The wind was picking up, and it sounded like distant thunder.  I wondered if Joseph had remembered his slicker.

It was then that I thought about his teacher, Miss Gower, and what she had told me during a very rough parent-teacher conference.  I had been summoned to school for the umpteenth time due to that boy’s antics.  As the woman listed many of my son’s faults and showed me some of his atrocious schoolwork, she mentioned that in her opinion Joseph didn’t have the sense to come in out of the rain.  Now, thinking about the impending storm outside, I wondered if she had been right all along.  Joseph was probably riding back from town with only his jacket to ward off the rain, even if he does have a slicker tied behind his saddle.  He won’t put it on even if the sky opened and he got absolutely drenched.  That boy!  Miss Gower had pulled me aside one day and asked me if Joseph had been adopted.  For just a minute I wanted to say yes.  I felt bad but I’m just trying to be honest with myself.  Okay, there are times he resembles Marie his mother but that’s about all I will claim at the present moment with him being hours late in “coming right back”.

The second I turned to look at the time I heard a horse riding up in the yard.  I didn’t want to open the door and give away the fact that I had been pacing the floor worrying about the kid.  Walking to my study I peeked through the curtains behind my desk and spotted that rapscallion quietly entering the barn.  As if he was going to come in here undetected!  No, I had a surprise waiting for him.

I planted myself on the settee and grabbed Adam’s book and placed it on my chest like I had fallen asleep reading.  That way if he saw me, he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing that I had been up all night fretting over him.  Manning my battle station, I quietly waited to see what kind of stunt he was planning on attempting this time.  I figured he’d try to sneak in so he could later play dumb and say he didn’t remember what time he’d gotten home.  I could just hear him at the breakfast table.  “Honest, Pa – I must’ve gotten in at the exact same time that you’d all gone to bed!”  He wasn’t going to be able to do that this time!  I smiled to myself and just waited.

I could hear boots outside on the front porch and I knew what would happen next.  He’ll try to ease the door open a quarter of an inch at a time.  ***Yes, Joseph, I know why you offered to oil that door handle for Hop Sing.  You are very helpful when you have an ulterior motive! *** Next, you’ll remove your hat and holster and then ease out of those boots of yours.  You know that two of those stairs have a bad squeak to them.  Funny thing about that.  Hoss offered to fix that for me, but I called him off.  I like them just the way they are.  It’s nice to have a way to track my youngest and his movements in and out of this house.

Hearing the door latch, I made sure that I wouldn’t be visible from Joseph’s vantage point.  He’d get a real start and he had it coming!  After three in the morning and he’s slinking in here.

Little Joe had gotten out of his second boot and quietly crossed the living room, never knowing that I wasn’t more than a few feet away from him at the time.  Now, as an honorable man I must admit that seeing my youngest boy and knowing that no matter where he had run off to or what he had done I was happy that he had made it home.  I had even sent a silent thank you to the Lord for watching over him.  For just a few seconds I didn’t know whether to walk over and hug him or to take my belt off due to the fact he had worried me unnecessarily.  But I held my place on the settee.

I watched and I waited patiently for my chance.  The boy had gotten up to the second step, and I had already witnessed the big smile he was wearing thinking that he had pulled another fast one on me.

I slowly eased up on the couch and called out in the most ominous tone that I could muster at three a.m., “Going somewhere, Joseph?”

Then I watched as the boy slipped and fell straight down into the living room.  I hadn’t meant to frighten him – well actually I had – but not that much.   I jumped up off the sofa and hurried over to the stairs.

“Oh – hi, Pa!” he said innocently.

“Why hello, Son,” I nodded to the boy.  “Nice of you to drop by at –” I then stared over at the grandfather clock.  “Now let’s just see how well you know your numbers, Joseph.  The little hand is on the three and the big hand is on the four.”  I had hoped that he could answer that question even though I had said it in jest.  There were a few things that Miss Gower had said about my son that still bothered me.  I don’t believe that it’s true that he’s not very bright.  Well, her actual words were that Joseph “leaned to the stupid side”.  I think that she was just a bit overwhelmed by my son and his antics that day.  But, then again, she said it more than once and she was a teacher.  Anyway, I waited to see if the boy could answer my question.

“Uh – didn’t know it was that late,” he muttered and then concerned himself with finding his boots which he had dropped as he fell.

*** Great!  Now I’ll never know if he could have answered that question! *** I thought as I made my way over to Joseph and just watched him crawling around on the floor.  I took my normal paternal stance with my hands on my hips and my feet spread apart.  When I stood like that it wreaked fear in anyone who dared to look at me.  Well, at least it worked on the boy who was still crawling around at the base of the staircase pulling boots to his chest.  One glance at me and he knew what I was thinking.  ***Joseph, you are in deep trouble with me now! *** I drew in a deep breath and waited for the boy to stand up so that I could go after him.

Just when I thought I was going to be rewarded for all my lost hours of sleep by being able to unload on that boy he fell again.  I knelt next to him and shook my head.  I should’ve known that the night would end with my youngest getting injured!  Sometimes I think it’s his favorite past time.  Maybe he just likes scaring me or perhaps he enjoys being waited on?  But then again, it could be that he’s a natural born klutz.

“Joseph — what did you do to yourself this time?”

The boy’s face flushed with embarrassment as he replied, “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, Pa.”  I groaned over what he had just said and hoisted him up.

“Let’s go over to the settee so I can have a look at you,” I told him and half dragged the kid along with me.  I was beginning to have just a twinge of guilt over the fact that it had been my voice which had frightened Joseph enough to have fallen down the stairs.  But that guilt went away fast when I remembered how late it was.

Making him stretch out on the sofa, I felt his right leg to make sure there weren’t any breaks.  I also wanted to make sure that Joseph wasn’t “playing” me and pretending to be hurt to garner my sympathy.  He’d done it before and now I didn’t trust him unless I saw a bone poking out of his skin or blood pouring out of some wound.  He’d cried wolf too many times and I wasn’t going to fall for it ever again.  When my right hand hit the boy’s right ankle he yelped like a scalded dog.  It was then that Joseph did something very unusual.  I asked him if he was hurting and he actually told me the truth.  But I suppose he had to because he’d already realized that he couldn’t hide his pain from me.   I could very easily read it all over his face.

I announced my diagnosis with the kind of emphasis that would put Doctor Martin out of business.  “Sprain.”  Joe’s face twisted once he heard it probably because now, he knew that he’d be stuck inside the house.  I considered it a fitting punishment for making me worry but I wasn’t about to say it.  I’m not a cold-hearted man, just a tired one. “Well, you won’t be joining your brothers out with the herd tomorrow, Young Man.”

That’s when I stood back up and just stared down at the boy.  I knew that he was aware of what I was going to say before I launched into it.  But I said it regardless.

“Joseph, you are going to be the death of me!”

The boy looked at me strangely.  I know.  He does too.  I always wait to begin a lecture until I’ve given him a good ten minutes to think about the error of his ways.  But it was too late for that now that the clock chimed four times.

“Gee, Pa, I’m sorry,” The boy said with the expertise of a pseudo thespian.  In fact, though he’d never be the scholar that his brother Adam was, he could’ve put Edwin Booth to shame with his performances whenever he was in trouble with me.

I thought back to some of the things Miss Gower had shown me over the years.  There were accounts of the tall tales my youngest told her all written in a journal she kept.  One excuse of his that he happened to use way too frequently, was that he’d lost his homework as he crossed a raging river so he could save a wounded child.  That one, though very well thought out in my opinion, had cost Joseph an entire month of being held after school for an hour each day.  I believe he spent some time out in our barn with me too for using that excuse.  But there were so many times I’d taken him in there for a tanning that I wasn’t sure which would wear out first his backside or my belt.  I believe that, over his eighteen years and two months, Joseph spent more time in our barn than any of our horses had.  And, unfortunately due to his disobedience, so had I.

Now all I could do was to look down at my son and shake my head.  The kid was hurt so a trip to the barn was out of the question.  I was glad about that as I was far too tired at the time, and I’d have to carry him out there anyway due to his ankle.  Besides I’d have to listen to more blarney from him than I could endure at four a.m.

“Playing poker until dawn and sneaking in here – and going to the lengths that you did – like removing your boots I sometimes wonder if you are adopted!” I began my rant only throwing in the “adoption” mention since it always made him think hard about whether I planned on keeping him.

“Pa – I almost won the whole pot tonight.  I would’ve been home sooner but –,”

That was it!  I wasn’t going to listen to the “crossing the raging river to help a wounded child story again”.  It was time to rein that kid in, sprained ankle or not.  I set my hand down on the boy’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.  Then I stared at him hard, so he’d know I meant business.  By the look on his face, I knew that I had gotten Joseph’s undivided attention.  Must’ve been the way I used my eyebrows to express myself, that always got to him!

“Well, let’s get you upstairs and into bed, Young Man.”

“I can make it, I’ll just kind of hop, Pa.”  That boy actually expected me to watch him try that too!  I’m quite sure he would’ve fallen down another couple of stairs if he’d tried that, but I couldn’t handle anymore injuries so early in the morning.

Crossing my arms over my chest I said calmly, “Joseph?”  I made sure that I phrased his name like a question, hoping that I would instill fear in the kid.  He deserved it for staying out so late and scaring me half to death for the millionth time in his life!

“Yes, Sir?” the boy answered meekly, which let me know my enunciation of his name had paid off.

“If you hop up the staircase, I want you to be careful.  There are two squeaky boards that you need to avoid so you don’t wake anyone up,” I announced and noticed the look on the kid’s face.  I guess he thought that I was deaf and hadn’t noticed the sound that those steps made.  But now he knew it.  And looking over at me he also knew better than to try to outsmart his old man again.  Well, that is, until the next time of course.

“Yes, Sir – I think you’re right,” he nodded.  Joe’s face still held a hint of bewilderment on it.  As many times as I’ve told that boy that anything he’s tried to do I’ve done already he just doesn’t learn.  I thought about Miss Gower again.  I prayed that she had misjudged my son, but sometimes that little bit of doubt kept creeping back into my mind.

Yanking the boy up with my left hand, I got a good hold underneath his arm.  We made it up the stairs and those two boards squeaked to beat the band as my boots hit them along with Joseph’s one working foot.

Three nights later I found myself delayed making it home from my business at the bank in Virginia City due to a sheriff who needed my assistance.  I had left my youngest son with his leg propped up on the settee while his two brothers tended to moving the large herd.  Joseph was fine, just hopping around a bit, but I’d made sure to leave him some sandwiches since Hop Sing was busy with a sick relative in town.  I knew he’d be okay until I could make it home.  Roy Coffee was very appreciative and had held the payroll money in his safe so the two of us could round up the three thieves that he’d caught earlier in the evening.  The sheriff had to leave them at the blacksmith’s shop to get enough handcuffs for all three of them.  But somehow, they’d gotten away from Will Harkins, the smithy, and Roy had to find them again.  So, I understood why the sheriff didn’t want them to get away again and I helped him get them locked behind bars.  The only problem was that it had taken hours to capture them.  Now it was after two a.m., and I was just heading back to the Ponderosa.

Roy had told me he’d put me up at the hotel at the expense of Storey County for services rendered, and had things been different at home I’d have taken him up on it.  Though a sprained ankle wasn’t much of an injury compared to the usual medical emergencies that Joseph has incurred over the years, still, I wanted to make it home to check on him.  Not that concerned about his ankle but more so about the boy’s stomach, I rode with only the light of the full moon to guide me back to the ranch house.  Joseph has minimal skills when it comes to preparing food.  Now, that’s not saying anything about his intelligence.  I’m trying not to think of what Miss Gower would say about that statement right now.  However, my youngest can scramble eggs and make toast in a pinch.  But if that boy was left to his own devices and made himself a pot of coffee, he might have real difficulties.   The last time his brothers put him up to making a pot for the rest of us it came out so thick the teaspoons we used to load up on sugar to kill the taste actually stood up inside the cups.  I hoped that Joseph had found the little bit of lemonade that Hop Sing had left for him and settled for that and water.  If he drank his own coffee, I was worried that I’d have to ride back to town to fetch the doctor.

Two hours in the saddle and I still had at least another half an hour to go, what with it being so dark and not wanting to make Buck go any faster than he’d wanted to.  I wondered what Joseph was thinking.  Was he sound asleep on the settee or had he begun to wonder where his old man was at such a late hour?  I know what I’d have done if Joseph hadn’t fallen into the house until after three.  Of course, the same thing that I had planned to do three nights ago.  I was only five minutes from grabbing my holster and hat and going out after him.  No, Joseph wouldn’t do a thing like that, I was sure of it.  His brothers and all the ranch hands were away and so was Hop Sing.  He was probably snooping through Adam’s and Hoss’ things just because he could.  I know he’d never go through mine because he knew better.  Boys are boys even if my youngest was exactly eighteen years and two months old.  Or to say it like Joseph has been saying it for two months, “he’s almost nineteen!”

I didn’t notice anything out of place when I finally rode up to the ranch house.  Walking Buck into the barn I had to light a lamp to get him settled in for the night before heading across the yard.  I spotted the porch light and was pleased that my son had kept it lit for me.  Reaching inside my coat I pulled out my pocket watch and stared down at it.  It was now twenty minutes after four.  I reached for that well-oiled door latch and pushed my way inside.  Joseph was standing just on the other side of the settee, and I watched him spin around, almost falling by performing that maneuver too quickly.

“Pa?” the boy’s voice was so low that I could barely hear it.  His eyes shot over to the grandfather clock.  I wasn’t sure what he was doing but he looked upset.  In fact, as I drew closer, I thought I spotted some tears glistening in his eyes.

“Joseph?  What are you doing up so late, Boy?”

I unbuckled my holster and rolled it up.  Setting it and the payroll satchel on top of the credenza I removed my hat and turned back to look at the boy.  In eighteen years and two months I don’t think I’ve ever seen the expression that Joseph was wearing.   When I got closer to him, he stared at me so intently that it was almost as if he’d never seen me before.

“Why do you have your holster on, Son?” I asked and placed my hand on the boy’s shoulder.  It was all beginning to make some sense to me now.  The boy looked both scared and relieved at the same time.  I also noticed that he kept glancing over at the grandfather clock and then right back over to me like he couldn’t believe I had made it home.

“I – well – I,” Joe stuttered like he couldn’t think of the words that he wanted to use.  He only did that when he was upset or overwhelmed by something.  The rest of the time he was very articulate despite the terrible grades he’d gotten in English literature class in school.

“Joseph?  What’s wrong?” I questioned again.

I watched as the boy dropped his head for a few seconds.  I knew exactly what he was doing because I had done the very same thing three days earlier when my son finally came home.  I thanked God, and more than once just as Joseph was now doing.

“Are you okay, Pa?”

“Yes, sorry to get in so late.  Roy needed my help with a few prisoners he’d just caught and Clem was home sick.”  I tried to explain so he’d know that I hadn’t purposely made him wait and worry.  Maybe now the boy would understand how I’ve felt so many nights waiting up for him.  At least I hoped so!

“Oh,” Joe said and again dropped his head so I couldn’t get a good look into his eyes which would have said a whole lot more than he was offering me.

“You should be off that ankle, Joseph.”

“I – I’m okay, Pa,” the boy stuttered again, which told me that he was having a hard time trying to explain how he was feeling.

For just a few seconds I studied my son’s face, and I knew exactly what was bothering him.  Joseph had been terrified that something had happened to me whether he wanted to admit it or not.  The expression on his face, though people say we look nothing alike which is probably how the whole “adoption rumor started”, could have been mine three days ago.  I knew what my son needed and I wasn’t about to make him wait.  I pulled the boy into my arms and held him close to me.

“Not a good feeling, is it?” I whispered.

With his face resting against my shoulder, I felt Joe nodding his head and heard him reply, “No, Pa – it’s not.”

“I’ve done quite a lot of waiting on you for the last eighteen years and two months,” I reminded him about his past penchant for worrying me.  I wasn’t going to tell him that every white hair on my head had been put there by his antics.  He’s heard that one too many times and it didn’t seem like something he needed to hear from me at that moment.

That’s when my son tried his best to tell me what was in his heart and how worried he’d been that something had happened to me.   Now I could lie and say I was glad that I finally felt vindicated by making my son worry after all he’s done to make me do likewise, but I won’t.  No matter what Joseph had done I’d never purposely make him feel the kind of dread that I’ve felt at times.

“Pa – I’m really sorry.  I – I thought something happened to you.  Oh – Pa – if I lost you – I just – well,” Joe stopped speaking.  I knew what he’d been thinking and feeling.  The few times that I’d had a life and death situation and the boy thought that he was going to lose me his brothers had later told me that Joseph was inconsolable.  It was a plain fact that Joseph was the only one of my sons who had refused to hear what I’ve laid out in my will.  I stared down at him and knew that he was reliving the moment that he’d thought that maybe I had been killed on my way home.  He didn’t need to make a grand statement full of flourishing words like his brother Adam could do.  He didn’t even need to speak straight from his heart in a matter-of-fact way like Hoss did.  Joseph spoke in volumes in the way his arms wrapped around my waist and held on tightly.  It was as if he was making sure that I was really standing there next to him.

I wanted to say the right thing to my boy that would somehow ease his mind.  “Joseph,” I began and slowly ran my fingers through his curls trying to let him know that his Pa wasn’t going anywhere.  “I’m never going to leave you so get that out of your head.  Even when it’s time for me to join your mother I’ll be with you inside your heart.  And on those nights that you’ve made me worry about you there’s one thing that’s helped me and that’s knowing that you are forever in my heart.”

I watched as my boy nodded.  That said more than a thousand words to me.  Joseph just couldn’t imagine a life without me in it, and I knew that so I accepted the nod as meaning so much more than it might have meant to any other father.  When the clock chimed to announce that it was now four thirty, I watched the relief that spread across my son’s face.  Then he turned pensive and I knew what he was thinking.  He was reflecting on those old doubts again.  I suppose part of that is my fault for teasing him over the years.  There were times when he acted so badly that, like Miss Gower had, I said he must be adopted.  Staring at him I knew that was what he had been thinking about, though I wasn’t exactly sure why.

I chuckled and patted Joe’s back and remarked, “No, you’re not!” Then I winked at him.

“Not what?”

“Adopted.”

“How’d you know I was thinking that?” the boy looked at me like I was a mind reader.  No, I was a Joseph Cartwright reader.  And I’d had eighteen years and two months to hone my skills.

Ruffling a hand through Joe’s curly hair I returned, somewhat mysteriously, “I just know.”

I almost laughed when I witnessed what looked like relief spreading across the boy’s face.  I think I’ve finally convinced him that like it or not, he is truly Ben Cartwright’s biological son.

“And you’re not dumb either.  No matter what Miss Gower said,” I added, trying to build the boy’s self-confidence.  I thought it just might help.

“You sure, Pa?” Joe rewarded me with both a smile and his quirky laughter.

“I’m sure,” I insisted.  “Of course, you don’t use the brains that the good Lord gave you sometimes.  But nonetheless you are smart.”

“Thanks,” Joe replied enthusiastically, like he’d just won a blue ribbon at the county fair.

I watched as Joseph stared at that clock again.  It had become a habit that long night, I supposed.  “Joseph,” I had to redirect my son’s gaze.  I gently placed my hand underneath his chin and turned him to look my way.  “It’s okay now, I’m home.  You can stop looking at the clock.”

Joseph looked as though he could finally breathe easier for the first time since I’d gotten home.  “Hand it over,” I held out my hand, and he knew I wanted his gun belt.  I took it from him and placed it on the credenza next to mine.  It was time to go back to the stern and overly protective father that he had grown used to over the years.  I directed him with my arm across his shoulder and the two of us made our way to the settee.

“Your boots, Joseph,” I pointed to my son’s feet to get him to come out of them.  I knew the boy’s ankle was hurting but he had stuffed that swollen foot into his boot to go find his pa.  I couldn’t have been prouder of my boy.

“Thank you for what you were going to do, Joseph,” I whispered to him.

My son rewarded me again with another smile.  He looked as though it meant a lot to him that I thought he had made the right decision to go looking for his old man.

I was exhausted by the time the two of us leaned back against the settee.  For just a minute or two I was planning on helping the boy up to his room, but I just didn’t have the energy to do it.  I thought that if I just closed my eyes for a little while then the two of us could head up to our rooms.  That’s when I guess I fell asleep.  Not long after, I felt my son setting the Indian blanket over my chest.  I suppose I wasn’t quite under all the way, and I thought it to be a very thoughtful gesture, so I pretended that I hadn’t felt his hand reaching behind me to get the thing off the top of the settee.

Then, out of the corner of my eye I witnessed Joseph stretching his legs out in front of him and setting his feet on top of the coffee table.  I knew that he felt triumphant in doing that since it usually made me yell at him to find his feet where they shouldn’t be.  I pretended to snore and the kid fell for it.  Then, just when Joseph looked nice and relaxed, I spoke up.

“Joseph, get your feet off the table,” I whispered and gave him a little nudge with my elbow.

He thought I’d shoot him my usual stern glare but instead I just grinned over at the boy.

“Yes, Sir,” Joe said with a wink and took his feet down quickly.

That’s the minute that I put mine up not far from where his feet had been.  I had to let Joseph know that I was still there with him and that I was still in charge.

“Okay, now you can,” I smiled at my son to let him know it wasn’t off limits at least that morning.

Joseph set his feet right next to mine and then I handed him half of the blanket to keep him warm.  I watched him pull it up to his chest and then close his eyes.  That’s when I finally fell off to sleep thinking about how lucky I was.  The boy sleeping next to me had worried about me so much that he was willing to ride off in the darkness, sprained ankle and all, just to make sure I was okay.  That was just one reason why I loved him, wild antics, disobedience, tall tales and all.  And that was why he would always remain forever in my heart.

The End

Written by Wrangler

7-27-26

*** I hope the readers enjoyed seeing how two people can tell the same story, but it always comes out a bit differently.  In Joe’s version he said that Pa gave him the “death grip” whereas in Pa’s version it was “a slight squeeze”!  Thanks for reading! ***

(Dedicated to the story consultant Rob, for all his help and his encouragement.)