Summary: The Cartwright family learns that trials and blessings sometimes go hand in hand.

Rated: K+ (5,715 words)

 

While Holding a Colicky Baby at Night

Ben knew it, even as he stepped outside into the moonlit night. He took a deep breath of the cool air and closed the door firmly behind him. The baby’s screaming bothered even an experienced father. Got under his skin in a way that he didn’t care to admit. And yet, he could feel the baby’s breath warm against his cheek. He could sense this newborn’s battle was just beginning. There was potential in this furious baby. They just didn’t know what it was.

Ben started walking towards the woods, still mulling over the argument with Adam. After twelve years of being a father, Ben believed that he really should know what he was doing. However, between his twelve year old son who’d been provoking him persistently and this newborn son who’d been doing exactly the same, Ben was beginning to think that he didn’t know so much after all. The preacher always said that God never gave a man more than he could handle. 

“Then God must have a lot of faith in me,” he said aloud and had to smile when the crying eased up a bit, almost in response. Ben tucked the baby against his shoulder and continued walking slowly away from the house.

His other two sons had been relatively easy. Adam had been a stoic baby, almost to a fault. He hardly ever cried; it was even unnerving. Ben almost lost him to the fever in Boston that first summer, because the baby hadn’t shown any signs of suffering. By the time Adam even appeared ill, it was almost too late.

“You have to watch him more carefully than that,” the doctor chided him, and Ben had stared down at his poor motherless boy, feeling like the worst father in all the world. He resolved to keep watch over his son, even when there didn’t appear to be anything wrong. That was Adam. He was as easy as he could be. That’s what made him so hard.

Hoss was even easier, although Ben barely had a chance to realize it. Inger had died while they were still half way across the plains. Struggling to drive his family to safety, Ben hardly had time for his poor baby and relied on six year old Adam to hold him in the back of the wagon. It had been a blessing from God that his second child had been born with such a sweet nature. Hoss was a happy baby who ate well and grew so big and healthy that he seemed like a living miracle. The other women on the wagon train said that the good Lord was smiling down at them after so much pain and loss. That was Hoss. 

And now there was this baby, this third son. Even the doctor didn’t know what to make of him. True, Joseph had been born too early. He barely weighed five pounds. Every day, they were sure they were going to lose him, and every day, he’d stayed alive.

“Either he lives or he doesn’t,” Doctor Martin had told Ben and Marie after he was born. “We’ve got to see what kind of fight he’s got in him. There’s nothing that’s going to keep him alive more than his own strong will.”

As it turned out, the boy had enough “strong will” for a wagon load of babies. If it was that will that kept him alive, then Ben Cartwright was a very blessed man. However, he was also a very tired one. 

The baby had been screaming for over an hour. Marie had tried everything she could, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, she collapsed in a chair by the hearth, holding the baby and crying herself. At the table, Adam groaned and set aside his homework. 

“Unbelievable,” Adam said. “You’d think his voice would give out.”

“That’s enough, Adam,” Ben said sharply. 

“There’s got to be some way to keep him quiet,” Adam retorted.

“I said that’s enough, Adam! You’re not helping!”

Frowning at his father, Adam got up and headed for the door. He didn’t exactly slam it, but Ben suspected that he was slamming it in his head. Hoss burst into tears and ran up the stairs. The little boy hated for anyone to be angry, and lately everyone in his family had been upset, in one way or another. 

Ben sighed. 

“I’ll take the baby outside,” he told Marie who merely nodded. She was already half asleep in the chair.

Getting outside was a relief. It didn’t put an end to the crying, but it did spare Marie from having to listen to it for a while.

As he walked into the moonlit woods, Ben wondered where Adam had disappeared to. Lately, his oldest son hadn’t been all that much easier to live with than the baby, always too quick with a sarcastic comment. Of course it was true that Adam had been a huge help lately. Ben wasn’t sure how he’d have gotten along without him. However, his son was growing up, and there was a certain amount of tension in that fact. He wasn’t exactly a boy anymore, but he wasn’t a man either. And yet he had taken on many of the responsibilities of being a man. Adam had gone on his first cattle drive that spring and had ridden drag all the way to Sacramento. He’d breathed in dust and cattle dung for two full weeks and never voiced a single complaint. On the other hand, he’d been caught sharing a flask of whiskey with a sixteen year old drover, and his father had recently discovered him in the bunkhouse with the hands, holding his own in a rowdy game of poker. Adam was only twelve years old but had always seemed a lot older. 

Joseph brought his father back to the present by letting out a particularly horrific wail. Exasperated, Ben held the baby out in front of him. 

“Now what is this all about? Why are you so upset?” he chided the baby gently, but he could have been asking it about any of them. 

Marie was upset. Especially in the evenings, she had been crying and crying. Adam was almost sarcastic when he wasn’t talking back to his father, seemingly more provoked by Ben than the baby. And Hoss wasn’t himself at all. He seemed almost hostile towards the baby. This was Ben’s boy who carried spiders outside to safety rather than squash them. More than once, Ben had found him glaring at his screaming brother with his hands clenched into tight fists.

But the baby wouldn’t stop crying. 

Ben tried to focus on the stars that were shining overhead. Sometimes, he was overwhelmed by how much of this world belonged to him and how much didn’t. He’d been given more than he’d ever dreamed possible. His gloriously beautiful and exhausted wife. The two older boys who showed every promise of growing into fine young men. The wailing baby he was holding. The Ponderosa. It was all more than he could have imagined as he’d been a young man at sea, staring out over the endless horizon and wondering what the future would hold for him. He’d had big dreams, but his was bigger. Ben’s life wasn’t perfect, but it certainly wasn’t bad either. 

Joseph let out another ear shattering scream, bringing his father right back to that present. This too will pass, Ben told himself, trying to gauge the little outraged face in the dark. He had to wonder what on earth could make a tiny baby so upset? Even though he kept trying to reassure Marie that crying was perfectly normal, Ben had honestly never known that a baby could carry on like this.

They’d called on Doctor Martin when the crying wouldn’t stop. After Joseph’s first difficult week, Marie was sure there was still something dreadfully wrong. They’d all stood around the bed – Ben, Marie, Adam, and Hoss – while the doctor examined the wailing baby. Ben would never forget the look on his wife’s face when the doctor had told them the infant wasn’t sick – it was simply a bad case of colic.

At that diagnosis, Adam had started laughing. He’d seen the look on Marie’s face and obviously couldn’t hold himself back.

“You shouldn’t look so disappointed,” he told his stepmother playfully. “It’s supposed to be a good thing that he’s not dying.”

Marie glared at her stepson indignantly, and Ben was about to lay into his oldest son for making such an inappropriate comment. However, Marie started to laugh harder than she had since the baby had been born. Adam always had a way of cutting to the heart of things.

“You’re right,” she admitted, wiping her eyes. “I should be grateful, and I am. I was just hoping there would be some medicine we could give him…”

But there was no easy cure for this phase of their lives. They would have to work it out, just like Joseph would have to work out what was bothering him. Just like Ben and Adam would have to work out the roles in their changing relationship.

“Joseph Francis Cartwright,” Ben mused, as much to himself as to the baby. “What are we going to do with you?”

“If he’s got any advice, Pa, please pass it on to the rest of us.”

Startled, Ben turned around as Adam slipped through the grove towards him. Despite his earlier irritation, Ben smiled and handed the baby over when Adam reached for him. Ben regarded his oldest son affectionately. When had the boy grown so tall? It occurred to Ben that by the time Joseph was walking and talking, his oldest son would be up to his own shoulders. Where did the time go?

“I’m afraid I haven’t done a very good job of calming him down,” Ben confided. “Or of calming anyone else down either,” he added, almost apologetically.

Adam held his sobbing little brother against his shoulder, whispering things to the baby that only the two of them could hear. Ben couldn’t make out much in the dark, but he could tell that his oldest son wasn’t angry either.

“I’m sorry, Pa,” Adam said after a while, having to raise his voice over the crying. “I need to learn to keep some of my opinions to myself. Especially now with everything so – “

“Unsettled,” Ben supplied, and Adam nodded.

“Unsettled,” he agreed.

Together, they made their way through the woods, passing the baby back and forth between them. Joseph didn’t stop wailing, but he did seem to be losing some of his momentum. It was good to spend time with his oldest boy, no matter the circumstances.

“How do you think this is going to turn out?” Adam asked suddenly.

Ben looked at his oldest son who was growing up too fast and down at his youngest son who he fervently wished would grow up a little faster. It was all a part of life, and Ben had to smile. He handed Adam the baby, and put his arm around his oldest son’s capable shoulders. How was this going to turn out?

“Interesting,” Ben said. “I think it’s going to be very interesting.”

Adam smiled. “If we could only get him to stop crying.”

Ben replied, “He’ll stop crying. But only when he’s good and ready.”

It was getting too cold to stay out. Ben kept his arm around his son’s shoulders. And together they turned and started back toward the house.

Marie

She’d sung every song that she knew, and it wasn’t enough. She’d prayed every prayer that her newborn son would sleep easy in the moonlight. But it wasn’t to be. The baby was still crying like the world was coming to an end. And at that moment, Marie believed that it would be all right if it did.

She’d never been so tired in all her life. Marie had done everything for this baby that she could think of. She’d nursed him for hours, walked him, rocked him, sung to him, pleaded with him… nothing had made one bit of a difference. She began to wonder if all the crying was God’s payback for her less than sinless life.

“Nonsense,” Ben would remind her. “This baby is a blessing, not a punishment. It’s just a little bit hard to remember right now.”

It was actually very hard to remember. Marie kept staring at her son’s perfectly miserable face and kept trying to remind herself how much she’d wanted this baby. But Joseph wouldn’t stop crying. She had honestly never felt so frustrated in her life.

It was always worst at night, and the crying made the walls of her beautiful house feel like they were closing in on her. Marie would eye her husband’s good brandy in the cabinet and would wonder how much she could drink of it without it hurting the baby. She wasn’t sure she could restrain herself once she started, so she didn’t drink any at all. With the baby against her shoulder, Marie paced the house for hours. She tried laying him in his cradle. She prayed that he would go to sleep. Nothing worked, nothing at all. Finally, she had bundled him up and took him outside. Usually, Ben took the baby out at night, but he was gone, having taken the younger two boys to town for the day. He’d planned to stay the night and return the next morning. It was just as well; the poor boys needed a break, but Marie was overwhelmed by how much she missed them.

She sat down on a fallen log close by the bunkhouse. She simply could not go any further. Marie held her sobbing baby up to her chest, and she cried too. It felt good to cry without anyone worrying or holding it against her. For a moment, she understood why her little one found it so appealing. The thought made her smile.

She held him up in the moonlight. He really was a heartbreakingly beautiful baby. Much more beautiful than her best friend Lucinda Brown’s baby! When he eventually stopped crying, he would be the most beautiful child in the territory. She would be able to dress him up to her heart’s content, and everyone could talk all they wanted. It was a thought that gave her a certain amount of satisfaction. Many of the other women had been gossiping that the young Cartwright wife had not turned into the best mother. Marie pretended not to hear them, but it hurt all the same.

Adam had heard it too. “They’re jealous of you,” he told her, after church the past Sunday. “Really, really jealous. When they hear Little Joe crying like that, it makes them feel better about the fact that you look the same as you did before you had the baby.”

Astonished, Marie had burst out laughing. She then impulsively kissed her oldest stepson on the cheek. She was gratified when he didn’t pull away. It was hard to believe he wasn’t yet thirteen. He seemed so much older. What a comfort Adam had been, taking the baby from her every time she was too exhausted to hold him a minute longer. Adam was growing up into such a fine, young man – Marie only wished Ben could see it. They were two of a kind – both incredibly strong willed and stubborn. Marie supposed that it was something they would have to work out together. A father and son had to find their own way, just like a mother sometimes had to survive her own difficult baby. Again and again, Marie reminded herself what Ben kept saying to them all. This too will pass.

Marie held her distressed son tight against her chest, her own tears drying on her cheeks. She’d had a good cry, but Joseph was just getting started. The night was young. The moon was moving across the sky. Joseph had many hours left to go before he’d cry himself out. She took a deep breath and remembered to pray. She was a Cartwright too. She hoped her other boys were having a good time in town and tried not to miss them. Marie would take on the rest of the night and this one’s wailing sorrow, one miserable moment at a time.

Adam

“Let’s be reasonable.”

For just a second, his baby brother stopped crying and almost seemed to study him in the moonlight. Then, Little Joe scrunched up his face and let loose with a scream that made Adam wish that the ancient practice of infanticide hadn’t gone out of favor. 

As if his screaming little brother could read his mind, Adam assured him, “Don’t worry. I really wouldn’t leave you to die of exposure. I just like to think about it sometimes.”

Maybe he was just tired, but Adam suddenly couldn’t keep from laughing. It was good to be alone, away from the impatient eyes of his father and the exhausted ones of his stepmother. Everyone had lost their sense of humor. Even Hoss had been an emotional wreck since the baby was born, and Adam could hardly refrain from saying something that would offend someone at any given time. More often that not, the one that he’d provoke would be his father. 

Adam was twelve years old. He’d be thirteen in the fall. A man by anyone’s reckoning, and yet his pa didn’t always see it that way. 

“Give him time,” Marie had often counseled before she’d been so preoccupied with the baby. “Your father needs to accept the fact that you’re growing up. It’s harder on him than it is for you.”

Adam hoped she was right. He’d been missing his close relationship with his pa, although lately he could feel the tension easing up, after the walk they’d taken the other night and the recent trip to Virginia City. It was kind of confusing – everything was changing so quickly. He didn’t blame his little brother for having a hard time getting used to it. Adam could feel the cold through his jacket, but it didn’t bother him. No matter how warm the summer day, it always cooled off dramatically at night. Although Adam doubted his baby brother could possibly get cold with all that screaming, he wrapped the blankets around the baby a little more securely. Lord only knew how anyone could get so worked up over a little thing like being born!

Somehow, the crying didn’t seem so loud outside at night. Inside, the baby’s screaming felt almost violent like it could buckle the walls. Adam wouldn’t let that happen. He’d built that house with his pa and was proud of every joist and rafter. 

“You’re a Cartwright whether you like it or not,” he told his brother. “So go ahead and cry all you want. It’s not going to change a thing.”

Adam could still hear his father’s voice from inside the house. He needed to put some distance between the rest of his family and Little Joe. They’d still be hearing the baby screaming, and he wanted to give them a respite from all that. After all, it was his turn to take the baby. He took it as a sign when the crying eased up a bit once they were away from the flickering lamplight.

“So you like the dark,” he said, idly. “So do I.”

The stars were bright and perfect. It was a glorious summer night, the kind that made you feel like you could go on walking forever. Adam couldn’t see his little brother’s face in the shadows, but he could still hear him. Still crying. Adam wondered whether Ben or Marie had been such a terrible baby. He knew better than to ask. No use in getting his pa upset with him again. However, Adam would lay odds on the blame going to Marie. She didn’t take kindly to being helpless either.

“This is going to get better,” Adam informed his baby brother. “There’s a lot more you get to do when you’re older. Nobody dresses you in dresses, for one thing. Don’t blame you much for crying, dressed like that.”

Marie had all sorts of French ideas for how to clothe her newborn son, and all of them were downright ridiculous. Adam wouldn’t be surprised if the baby was screaming for that reason alone. It was bad enough being stuck in a baby’s body. Having to wear gowns when you were a Cartwright boy was simply asking too much. 

“I’ll buy you some regular baby britches next time I’m in town,” Adam promised. “I’ve been saving for a rifle, but I can hold off a little longer. That’ll give you something to look forward to.”

Adam paced farther out into the woods. There was actually a lot for a baby to look forward to. Girls, for one thing. Adam was only getting started with that, but already he could see the possibilities. Going on the cattle drive with the other men had been the high point of his life, and he couldn’t wait until the fall to do it again. It was worth missing school to take on the responsibility. He’d have no problem keeping up with his school work on the trail. Everyone said he had so much potential. With Marie’s help, Adam had already been writing to universities back east. He had years to wait before he was old enough to go, but his stepmother said he wasn’t too young to begin planning for his own dreams. 

“This is just the beginning,” he told the baby. 

But his brother was still crying.

Without realizing where he was going, Adam had started climbing the small hill that rose up behind the ranch house. It wasn’t very high, and he could still keep his footing in the dark. Finally he reached the top, and he smiled with pleasure at the view. Under the full moon, he could see all the way down to the lake; he could make out the reflection over the starlit water. God it was beautiful. He held the baby up so he could also see it too. The Ponderosa. The future. All the possibilities. Adam was almost thirteen.

“Take a look, Little Joe,” Adam said. “See what you have to look forward to? That’s the Ponderosa. It goes even further than this…”

Hoss

Hoss knew he was supposed to love his brother.

Little Joe was a baby after all. He was small and helpless and scrunched up his face in a cute way, when he wasn’t screaming so hard that tiny veins bulged from his forehead. Most folks loved babies. At least, they loved normal babies. And so should little boys who had been looking forward to having a little brother their whole lives. That’s why Hoss wondered if there’d been some sort of mistake with this one. Hoss knew that God knew all about his baby brother, way before He created everything out of nothing. That’s what Pa told him when Hoss had asked if the baby was broken. 

“This is exactly who Joseph is meant to be,” Pa had told him. “Your little brother just doesn’t know it yet.”

Hoss figured his pa would know. He knew just about everything. But Hoss couldn’t tell him what he’d been thinking.

Sometimes, he didn’t much like this baby.

But Hoss offered to take baby away from his ma anyway. She needed some time to sit in her chair and cry for a while, and Hoss was a big strong boy who could hold the baby without dropping him. They had all figured out that it was easier to take him outside than keep him inside all night, listening to that crying. 

“Don’t let him get cold,” his ma had called out after him, so Hoss had wrapped another blanket around the baby, before he made his way outside.

It was cold out, but Hoss didn’t feel it much. The baby was screaming that his little body went all stiff with it. It wasn’t exactly like Little Joe was sad. It was more like he was angry. What could a little baby be so mad about, anyhow? 

The whole thing had been awfully disappointing. Hoss had been looking forward to having a little brother ever since he learned that his ma was expecting. He didn’t even mind it when Marie got too big for him to lay his head down in her lap. His mama was so happy. She couldn’t wear her prettiest silk dresses any more, but she smiled and bought new, bigger dresses like outgrowing the others didn’t matter. His ma smiled all the time, before the baby came. She let him feel the baby kick By the end, Hoss had been terrified that the baby was going to kick itself right out of her belly. Pa said that sort of thing never happened and that Hoss really ought to stop worrying. But Hoss couldn’t help himself. His friend, Bradley Morris had seen his mama die after giving birth to her third son. Adam’s own ma died when she had him, a fact that Hoss only knew about because Adam told him. Mothers died all the time when they had babies.

So, he’d been mighty relieved when the baby came, and his mama was still all right. She’d been sleeping on the bed, and they didn’t let Hoss hold the baby at first. Adam and Pa took turns holding him instead. They were worried that he was cold. The baby was too small at first, and for a while, they didn’t know if he’d keep breathing through the night. His color was all wrong. To Hoss, it looked like he was red and blue and yellow. Not at all the right colors for a baby, and Hoss never saw his pa pray so hard as he did that first night. They kept patting him on the back and trying to get him to nurse. Little by little, the baby’s color started to come close to normal, but his breathing still wasn’t right.

They watched over him for the next few days. All four of them taking turns. Sometimes, it was just he and Adam. The two of them had agreed to call him Little Joe, even though his real name was Joseph Francis Cartwright. Their ma and pa seemed mighty attached to calling him by his full name. Adam said he didn’t know what Pa was thinking. It was bad enough that Marie was making him wear a dress.

“You’re gonna have to fight harder, Little Joe,” Adam would say, when they were alone by the cradle, watching the baby struggle to take another breath. “You can’t give up now.” He turned to Hoss and added, “I’m gonna have to teach him how to throw an awfully good punch, since they stuck him with that name.”

Hoss thought that was a pretty funny thing for his big brother to say, and he laughed hard at the idea of the tiny baby beating up bullies in the school playground. His pa hadn’t been thinking Adam was all that funny lately, and his ma was too tired to laugh. They’d been worrying themselves something fierce since the baby had been born, so it probably wasn’t a good time to tell them that they’d picked out the wrong name. So Hoss just stood next to his big brother, laughing at Adam’s jokes and giving Little Joe a nudge every now and then to make sure he was still breathing. 

No one was sure how he did it, but that baby kept on living. His breathing started to get better. He started to nurse like they wanted them to. He stopped sleeping so much. And then Little Joe Cartwright opened his eyes and let them know what they were in for…

“Making up for lost time,” Adam said two days after Little Joe woke up and started screaming. “I guess we should have gotten more done while he was sleeping .”

Nobody thought that was funny, not even Hoss. There wasn’t much funny about the hours and hours of unending crying that came out of that little baby. Hoss had never, ever heard a baby cry like that before. Little Joe screamed whenever his eyes were open. He cried when he was hungry, and he cried after he’d been fed. He cried when he was tired and after he woke up and every minute in between. He was the worst baby anyone had ever heard of. 

Mrs. Brown, his ma’s best friend, had a baby a couple months earlier, and her baby slept through church and yawned and made little mewing noises when he was hungry. That baby smiled all the time, and folks would make silly faces at him to make him smile again. Little Joe just cried, and his pa and ma had to take turns walking him outside the church. It didn’t seem fair.

“Why couldn’t we get a baby like that?” Hoss had whispered to Adam last Sunday, pointing at the dozing infant in Mrs. Brown’s arms, but Adam just laughed and put his arm around his brother’s shoulders. 

“You were that kind of baby,” Adam whispered back, with a grin. “I guess God figured we were overdue for some trouble.”

It wasn’t a satisfying answer. Hoss had been hoping at least Adam would know why it had to be this way – Adam knew everything – but Hoss felt better knowing that someone still thought the situation was funny. It was not funny to him. Having his family so upset made his stomach hurt. All that Hoss Cartwright wanted was for things to go back to normal again.

But Hoss took his turn holding the baby. At seven years old, there was no excuse for not being willing to help out. The baby was still screaming. He screamed like he was the most angry baby in the whole wide world, and Hoss couldn’t understand what he was so mad at. Hoss looked up at the night sky. He wondered if birds were falling out of the trees because of all the fussing. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit if the angels in Heaven had to cover their ears. 

He’s new to the world, Hoss reminded himself and held him at a distance so he could get a look at his face. In the moonlight, he couldn’t see much, but he knew that the baby was red-faced and miserable. He was dry, he’d been fed, and he was bundled so that only his little face was showing. Then Hoss took a better look at his little brother’s expression. Right then, Hoss’s heart softened for the first time since the baby had been born. He wasn’t very big – just a little critter after all. Hoss couldn’t stand any little critter being unhappy, and this was too much misery for him to bear without doing something.

With great seriousness, he regarded his screaming baby brother and asked, “Can I help?”

Just like that, the crying eased up a little. Adam would say he was imagining it, but Hoss was sure that the baby was thinking about his question. 

“That’s better,” he said, bravely carrying on. “We ain’t been able to talk much, what with all your crying and all. It’s nothing to cry about, being a baby. I know you liked it better before, but I could make it up to you. I have a secret cave that nobody knows about, not even Adam. I’ll let you come with me when you’re big enough. There’s all sorts of rocks you can climb that are bigger than me even. If you climb up, you gotta jump down. Betcha you’ll like jumping. I’ll show you.” 

Carefully holding onto the baby, Hoss clambered onto a low boulder. He checked to make sure Little Joe was paying attention, and holding him tightly, he jumped effortlessly down to the ground. Hoss was right. His baby brother definitely liked that! Jumping surprised the crying right out of him, even though Little Joe was still taking huge shuddering breaths of air. Hoss couldn’t stop grinning. He was better at being a big brother than he’d thought. 

Hoss held Little Joe out so he could see him and confided, “I know you don’t much like being a baby. I wouldn’t like it much neither. Just you wait until you can ride a horse. I have my own pony. I’ll set you on my saddle with me when you can hold your head up better. Here. I’ll show you what it feels like to go fast.”

With that, Hoss started galloping around the moonlit yard in circles, taking care that he didn’t stumble in the dark. He could feel the baby’s breathing calming down and his body relaxing against his shoulder. Hoss galloped until he was dizzy and a little sick to his stomach, but he didn’t stop. It was a lot of responsibility being a big brother. 

“Hoss!” His father’s outraged voice sounded from the threshold. “What on earth are you doing? Are you running in the dark with that baby?”

Hoss stopped in his tracks almost tripping over the water pump. Normally, he’d have been terrified at hearing his father holler at him like that, but this time he knew it was worth it to get into some trouble. After all, he’d figured out what his baby wanted. Nobody else had managed to do that.

“Hoss Cartwright. Bring Joseph to me right now.”

His father meant it. So Hoss leaned over and whispered to his little brother, “They don’t know how it is between you and me.”

And then Hoss ambled across the yard, handing the sleeping baby back to his pa only because he had to.

The End