Pulling Their Weight

By Texas2002

Note: This is a continuation of "Just a Day Like Any Other"

Rating: G

Thank you to Mr. Dortort who created the Cartwrights and the Ponderosa and shared them. And thank you to Ms. Sullivan who gave them new life. This story is not intended to infringe on their rights or the rights of anyone else involved in these marvelous shows.

Ben Cartwright called to the team as he stopped his wagon in front of Margaret Greene's hacienda. He cast a curious eye at a buggy near the front corral - it was not Margaret's although one of the vaqueros was readying the horse.

"Fernando." Ben nodded to the young man.

"Senor Cartwright."

Ben stepped down from the wagon seat and hauled a box from the back. "Is Mrs. Greene home?"

"Should I get her?"

Ben shook his head, saying that wouldn't be necessary and carried the box to the front porch.

"I wish you would -" Margaret's sentence stopped abruptly as she opened the door to find Ben standing there. She blinked in surprise but quickly regained her composure and held the door wider so he could step in. "Ben, you remember Mrs. Albert?"

Ben tried to figure out how to hold the box with one arm while he took off his hat. When he came perilously close to dropping his cargo, aware Margaret was smiling behind her hand, he gave up and put the box on the floor. "Hello Mrs. Albert," he said as he finally took off his hat. He motioned to the box near his boots and looked at Margaret from the sides of his eyes. "An order of yours got mixed in with ours when Adam was at the Orowitzs' yesterday."

"I appreciate that, Ben," Margaret said. "Actually, you're just the person we wanted to speak with. Mrs. Albert has something to ask you."

Margaret watched the woman who she judged to be 15 years her senior blush as Ben gave her his undivided attention. He had that effect on many of the ladies in town.

"I've decided to leave Eagle Station, Mr. Cartwright," she began.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He understood her reasoning, though. Mr. Albert had died less than a month ago and she had no children here to turn to for help with her small homestead. He might well have done the same after Marie's death if -

"Mr. Cartwright," she spoke slowly. "Eli and Ruth have taken John's dog but I need to give the puppy to someone."

Ben's stomach tightened. Ask anything of me but please don't ask what I think you're about to.

Margaret cleared her throat. "I told Mrs. Albert how much Hoss loves animals and we were hoping you might allow him to have the puppy." She saw resistance rising in Ben's jutting chin and narrowed eyes. "He's very well-behaved, Ben. The puppy has spent several days here with Mrs. Albert and we have all enjoyed him immensely."

Then you keep him, Ben thought. But he did not speak until he could be polite. "We don't really need a dog, Maggie." Why did he sound like he was pleading?

His neighbor's hands were on the sides of her dress, calling attention to her narrow waist. "He would be a great help with the stock and with hunting."

"I don't mind dogs, Maggie. The trouble is they're puppies first." He really was pleading now.

Margaret's thick dark hair fell behind her squared shoulders. "She doesn't know what she'll do with him otherwise."

He returned to Mrs. Albert. "Can't you take him with you?"

She shook her head slowly. "Not to my daughter's home in San Francisco."

Ben looked away, out the front door and toward the corral. Why was he even having this conversation? He should just say "No" and leave. Slapping his gloves against his leg he asked, "Where is he?"

Margaret gave Mrs. Albert a quick smile. "I believe he's exploring the stables."

She led the way along the porch and across the dirt yard to the stables and stopped, amused at the fuzzy puppy tugging on a feed sack leaning against the adobe wall. She looked up at Ben and watched his rugged features soften. Now was the time to quit talking and let the puppy do the rest.

Fuzzy and chubby, with stand-up ears and a long tail, the puppy was predominately a soft gray color - at least where he hadn't rolled in the dirt of the stable area. He had a white patch on his chest that continued down his right leg and the tiniest tip of white on his tail.

Ben sat on his heels and the puppy paused, feed sack corner between his little teeth, giving this new person the once-over.

"Does he bite?" Ben asked.

"He - uh - hasn't yet." Margaret fought for composure. The puppy was perhaps half the length of Ben's boot.

"He's a good dog like his mother, Mr. Cartwright," Mrs. Albert was quick to assure.

Ben put his hand to his chin. He knew Maggie was right. A dog could be trained to be a good hunting companion - and it would warn when predators came too close to the corral or chicken coop.

And hadn't Little Joe been begging and hinting for a puppy for as long as Ben could remember?

Joseph and a puppy?

His stomach tightened even more. The youngster managed to get into enough mischief on his own. But wait. Maybe he was looking at this the wrong way. Maybe if Little Joe had a puppy he would be more occupied and have less time for mischief. After all, he'd proven to Ben that he could be responsible for an animal by the way he took care of Paint.

The puppy released the feed sack, trotted to Ben with his tail straight in the air, and plopped down on his backside, cocking his head. Despite his puppy chubbiness and short legs, he had a serious look in his blue eyes.

Blue eyes? Ben leaned closer. He'd never seen a dog with blue eyes. Just to be sure the little guy wasn't blind, Ben moved his gloved finger from left to right. Well, he meant to move it from left to right. It got from left to almost midway when a puppy jaw grabbed it and growled in play.

Ben laughed and rolled him over, tickling the small tummy as the pup wadded around his hand. Although his fur was gray on top, he was white and black speckled underneath. He would be a good-looking dog. Seemed to have a wide chest, strong legs.

Ben stood slowly, holding the little creature, and the puppy peered over Ben's hands as if he had never been up that high in his life. He whimpered and backed into Ben's chest.

That was when Margaret knew: any man who loved kids as much as Ben Cartwright did would not to be able to resist this pup.

"I won't take him for Hoss."

Ben's unexpected words took Margaret's breath.

"But I will take him for Little Joe."

If Mrs. Albert hadn't been present, she would have slapped Ben's arm for giving her such a start.

"Oh, Mr. Cartwright, thank you so much," the older woman's relief was evident in every word. "John would be so happy."

The pup kissed Ben's neck, causing him to grin and quickly pull the animal away. "What's his name?"

"That is for your son to decide. A boy should name his own dog."

Ben gave a quick nod and put on his hat, an action Margaret knew indicated he was preparing to leave. "Let me get a box for you. You'll need it on the wagon."

Maggie brought the box, with straw spread in the bottom of it, and as word spread that the puppy was leaving with Senor Cartwright every vaquero within walking distance showed up to pet the little animal and bid him good luck at his new home. Fernando was the last to approach Ben's wagon and he handed him a piece of braided rawhide. "He teethes like a baby. This will help."

"Thank you." Ben placed it in the puppy's box and signaled his team.

Once or twice during the drive home, the puppy stood on his hind legs and tried to see over the edge of the box. The rest of the time he laid down and when Ben glanced at him as he urged the horses up the gentle slope toward home the little fellow was sound asleep.

At the sound of the approaching team, Adam looked up from repairing the wheelbarrow he had fallen into the day before yesterday. He waved and then began hammering again.

"Hey, Pa." Hoss came from the house, drying his hands on his pants legs.

"Joe?" Ben secured the reins on the wagon as he called.

The dark-haired youngster stepped from the barn.

"Could you give me a hand, son?" Ben requested.

Hoss leaned against the end porch post. "Little Joe and me got that window fixed."

"Thank you, son."

"What's that?" Little Joe asked as he neared the wagon.

"What?" Pa glanced near the seat.

"That." Little Joe pointed to the box.

"That?" Pa teased.

Hoss recognized all the signs that something fun was about to happen. He slowly ambled over.

"That," Little Joe repeated.

Pa shrugged. "A box, son."

"How come you didn't leave it at Mrs. Greene's?"

"I did leave a box at Margaret's."

Little Joe gave an exasperated sigh and tilted his head back to look at Pa. "Well how come you brought one back?"

"She gave it to me."

Pa was having a great time with this. No telling how long he'd string it out. Over by the wheelbarrow, Adam stood and put his hands on his hips.

"Why'd Mrs. Greene give you a box to bring back?" Little Joe asked.

Pa tugged at his gloves. His eyes were so bright with mischief you could have read by their light on a moonless night.

Little Joe grew more impatient. "Is there anything in it?"

"In what?" Pa asked absently, as if he'd already forgotten what they were talking about.

"The box."

Pa stepped away from the wagon. "Could you boys help with the horses, please?"

"I'll get the box," Little Joe volunteered. He wrapped his hand around the top edge, pulled it toward him, and stepped back in astonishment as two little paws and a face appeared. "A puppy!" he shouted.

Pa turned with as straight a face as Hoss had ever seen. "A what?"

The boy's arms encircled the box and it was all he could do to lower it to the ground without dropping it. He laughed, sat on the ground and reached inside to help the little canine out.

"It's a puppy, Hoss!"

Hoss walked around the team's heads to see the pup in Little Joe's lap, jumping up, trying to lick his chin.

Suddenly the fuzzy little puppy stopped every movement, ran a couple of feet from the delighted boy and squatted. Feeling refreshed, and having left a small wet spot in the dirt, he returned to his new master and sat in Little Joe's lap.

"Aw, Pa," Hoss' eyes got what Little Joe called that "mushy" look to them. "Ain't he the cutest little thing?" He squatted at his little brother's side and laughed as the pup licked his hand.

Ben's attention was pulled to the barn doors where Adam stood watching the scene. His oldest son made eye contact but kept any thoughts to himself.

Hop Sing's assessment of the situation caught Ben by surprise.

They were outside after dinner watching Hoss and Little Joe play with the puppy and kittens. Hop Sing, Adam and Ben were sharing the bench and allowing the day's activities to seep from their muscles when Hop Sing spoke. "Most interesting," he observed to no one in particular.

Adam leaned forward from the waist and rested his forearms on his spread knees. "What's that, Hop Sing?"

"You come home from store and say Orowitzs' have new dog and then we find box for Mrs. Greene in with supplies. Father go to Mrs. Greene's today to take supplies and return with puppy of Orowitz dog. Most interesting."

Pa shook his head and gave a slight laugh. "I'm sure it was just coincidence, Hop Sing."

Hop Sign didn't speak.

"You're not implying that Maggie planned this, are you?" Pa's eyes grew wary.

"Not imply," Hop Sing said in that non-committal way of his. "Just observe."

Doubt flickered in Pa's eyes and the edges of his lips turned downward. "I'm sure it was just coincidence."

Adam ducked his head. Poor Pa, he never could stand the idea of someone getting the better of him.

Ben's left boot went down on the porch. "But how did she know I wouldn't send Hoss or Adam to deliver the supplies?"

Uh oh. Adam closed his eyes.

"Adam?"

He never had been any good at lying to Pa. "Maybe she left that to chance."

"Maggie doesn't leave anything to chance, son."

Adam could feel Pa's eyes on him and he shifted slightly. Maybe he could wait Pa out on this one.

Finally the silence was uncomfortable. Adam twisted his lips. "Mrs. Orowitz and Mrs. Greene asked me to be sure you were the one who took the supplies to the Greene place."

"You knew about this?" Pa frowned.

It was one of those times when it was best not to say anything because whatever he did say was just going to aggravate Pa.

The man was close to scowling as he walked past them and into the house.

Maggie had gotten the better of him and it rankled the way it used to when Marie would trip him up. What was it about women that could catch a man so off-guard? Ben put his mug down a little too firmly on the table and quickly inspected the pottery for cracks. Convinced it was none the worse for his temper, he crossed the room to the wooden settee and sat by the fireplace.

Men - now they were a lot easier to read. When a man was ready to trick you, you usually knew it.

But women came up with the most convoluted schemes ever known to God.

"I figured if you didn't, I would."

Adam's words jerked Ben from his thoughts. He was on his feet at the opposite end of the settee, his hands in the front pockets of his black pants. How many times had his son stood just this way, discussing real or imagined transgressions?

"If you hadn't brought the puppy home today I planned to go get him tomorrow," Adam explained. "I knew you'd lecture me but I decided I'd say you hadn't told me I couldn't bring a puppy home."

Heaven help him, now Adam was sounding like Little Joe. In truth he was more upset that he had fallen for one of Maggie's plans but he was also beginning to wonder if he should have brought the puppy home.

"What if we barely have enough to feed ourselves this winter?" he asked his eldest son.

Adam's next words reached deep into Ben and pulled out a fistful of wonder.

"Pa, it's not like it was when the whole load was on you. There's another man in the family now. I hunt. Hoss is getting better at it all the time. Hop Sing has his garden. Little Joe'll get past his skittishness. We know how to cut timber, build fence, tend cattle, take care of horses and watch the tack and the wagon. We're your partners."

Adam looked down and a lock of dark hair fell onto his forehead. "Even when times were hardest for you and me, Pa, I had Thaddeus." Adam raised his face and smiled gently, looking as he had when Ben could lift him for hugs and carry him around on his hip.

Ben smiled. "He was a smart dog, wasn't he?"

"He saved my hide from you more than once."

Ben looked at Adam from head to toe. "You'll have to tell me about that sometime."

"No I won't. Goodnight, Pa."

Ben laughed softly. "Goodnight, son."

He was putting one last log on the fire when Hoss peeked from the bunkroom and said goodnight.

"Where's Little Joe?" Ben asked.

"He's tucking in the puppy." Hoss said the words as if he actually believed the puppy would sleep - not to mention sleep where he was being tucked in.

But Ben had no delusions about how this night would be. A puppy alone was a force to be contended with - yipping, whimpering, and howling in piercing tones.

"Pa?"

Ben stood from the fireplace. His youngest son was smeared with dirt and his eyes were the happiest Ben had seen them in a long, long time.

"Thanks for the puppy."

Ben glanced sideways in the direction of the barn. "Is he safe?"

The youngster nodded quickly. "He's sleeping in the crate with Abigail and John Adams."

Ben took an involuntary step backwards. "Son, cats and dogs don't - "

"Hoss talked to 'em."

"Hoss," Ben repeated.

"They said it was fine. They're cuddled up sleeping."

"Cuddled up." Ben shook his head in wonder as Little Joe walked toward the bunkroom. "Joseph."

The boy turned on his boot heel.

Ben motioned with his right hand toward the washbasin. "At least get the first layer of dirt off?"

Little Joe smiled until a dimple appeared.

Such easy cooperation was unnerving - Ben didn't know if he trusted it so he waited in the living room until his son came back to him. Unbelievably he had even scrubbed with soap.

Ben motioned to his lap and Little Joe climbed up, curious but quiet.

"I'm proud of the way you've taken care of Paint, son. But I want to be sure you know this puppy will need a lot of training."

Little Joe swung his boots until he came close to hitting Pa's leg with his heel. "I know, Pa."

Ben stroked Little Joe's damp hair back from his forehead. "The only way he'll feel good about himself when he's grown is if you've given him a lot of love and helped him learn limits."

"I will." The youngster bit his lower lip. "He's gotta learn to respect others."

"That's right."

"I'll help 'im. You'll see, Pa, he'll be the best dog yet."

Ben fought his amusement and wished his son a good night.

Where had Little Joe come up with the idea of teaching the puppy to respect others? He supposed rearing Adam and Hoss should have prepared him for anything but it was still humbling how just when you thought you knew a boy inside out he surprised you.

+++

"Hi, Pa!" Little Joe waved as Ben prepared to split wood the next morning.

Usually the youngster's eyes didn't open fully until nearly noon. But this morning he had been up with the rest of them and had even had seconds at breakfast.

Adam had announced plans to construct a fence around Hop Sing's garden so he and Little Joe were building it much as they had built the chicken coop. When Ben asked his oldest son about the project, Adam explained it would help deter the rabbits but Ben was pretty sure Adam remembered the trauma of his own puppy digging up his grandmother's flowerbed years before.

Ben pulled his shirt over his head and stretched, then picked up the ax. He swung the blade into the wood with a cracking sound and a little canine tore around the corner of the barn barking at him.

The puppy set his front feet and continued his high-pitched yipping. In a moment his owner appeared, his freckled face flushed. "Stop that Smoke, you can't sass Pa."

Sass? Smoke? When had Little Joe named him?

Unperturbed by the scolding, the puppy growled and when Little Joe stepped up behind him he launched into even more insistent barks.

"He's protecting you," Ben observed.

He watched in delight as his son sat on his heels and spoke directly to the puppy's face. "Pa knows a lot more about protectin' me than you do. Now come on."

The blue puppy eyes considered Ben one more time with great suspicion. Then he scampered after Little Joe, nipping at the back of the boy's pants hem.

The entire morning was to be that way for Ben. When he wasn't stalked or pounced upon by Abigail or John Adams he was bushwhacked by Smoke. In one unbelievable maneuver they all three managed to be near his boots at the same moment and he came perilously close to falling in a pile of manure. The kittens, which were now old hands around the ranch, gave the fresh mound a wide berth but the puppy considered it a thing of wonder and the most delightful smell he had ever encountered.

Ben watched him step in gingerly to be sure he could get back out. He then plopped down, rolling in it with complete puppy abandon. When he stood up he almost knocked himself over with an attempted shake and then went bounding off. A moment later Little Joe gave out a blood-curdling yell. "Smoke! You stink like an outhouse! Get down!"

Ben paused long enough by the outdoor wash pan to break off a piece of soap and then walked in the direction of Little Joe's voice. "Joe," he called when he spotted the boy holding his nose as he stood by the corral, Smoke sitting at his boots.

"What's this for?" Little Joe looked at the soap Pa had tossed to him. His nasal twang indicated he was breathing through his mouth.

Ben motioned to one of the larger buckets that looked like it would be the right size for the job.

"Aw, Pa!" Little Joe moaned. With Smoke at his heels, he dipped the bucket in the horse trough and set it on the ground against a corral post. Then he tucked the soap under his chin, picked up Smoke and carried him as far as he could to his left side so he could cover his nose with the upper part of his right arm.

Smiling, Ben leaned his back against the end porch post.

Smoke didn't mind being dipped into the water but when his pink tongue appeared and he tasted the darkening liquid, Little Joe could not contain himself. "Don't drink that stuff! You'll throw up everywhere!"

To Ben's eyes it looked more like his son was the one fighting the gag reflex.

Washed and rinsed twice, Smoke was tired of this new game. His whimpers quickly developed into full-scale howls that sent Abigail and John Adams shooting up a tree and brought Adam and Hoss running. When his older brothers saw the pitiful soaked puppy Little Joe lifted from the bucket they laughed.

Ben pushed away from the porch as Little Joe put Smoke on his feet and called out, "Son, you might want to -"

But it was too late. Little Joe threw his arms up and yelled, "Smoke!" as the puppy shook repeatedly.

"You know," Adam said dryly, "if you'll rinse him with some water out of the rain barrel his fur will be really pretty."

Little Joe shot his oldest brother a look but kept his comments to himself.

Ben had to give the little canine one thing: he was a fast learner. After one of the horses nearly stepped on his paw and sent him yipping away with more hurt feelings than any physical damage he stayed far away from those animals.

The cows were something else.

Ben had noticed the way the pup nipped at everyone's pants hems. Sitting on the front porch edge to rest a moment he watched the little fellow venture into the high grass in front of the house. Smoke had been giving the cattle quite a bit of attention - especially considering how young he was. Ben sipped his water from a mug and tilted his head to the left. Smoke was venturing out now, slowly walking farther from the house. Short as he was he couldn't have seen much in that grass but he went as much by instinct as by scent.

Little Joe came to the water bucket and reached for the dipper. He caught sight of his puppy in the field and took a deep breath, ready to call out, but Ben laid a quieting hand on the boy's arm and shook his head.

Smoke was unusually cautious until he found himself suddenly behind one of the longhorns. Then he barked as if he were possessed.

"He's gonna get killed," Little Joe tugged free of Pa's hand.

"Ssh," Pa cautioned and grabbed his son by the back of his waistband.

The cow slowly swung her enormous head around and snorted at Smoke. He rolled over backwards and yipped in surprise, then ran for the house as fast as he could.

Little Joe retrieved the frightened puppy and held him close, telling him he was safe and he shouldn't have gone near the cattle by himself.

Ben squinted and poured out the little bit of water left in his mug. "Can you keep a secret?"

His son frowned. "What kinda secret?"

"I think Smoke is a herder."

Little Joe put Smoke on his feet and dusted bits of grass off the front of his shirt. "A what?"

"Usually they herd sheep or goats or small animals. But Smoke looks like he'll be a big dog and if you train him the right way I think he'll work those cattle."

The 12-year-old's mouth went slack as he considered the longhorns. "Gosh, Pa, ya think Smoke could really do that? Pull 'is weight and everything?"

"He already wants to. He's just not big enough." Ben patted the boy on the back. "He needs a lot of guidance from you."

Ben could have sworn his son grew an inch in front of his eyes.

When Hop Sing rang the bell for lunch an hour later, Adam walked beside his father toward the house. "So how are Smoke and you getting along?" His dark brows went up.

Ben rolled his eyes. "He's everywhere I don't need him. You?"

Adam gave an easy shrug. "Haven't seen him all morning."

"Where've you been?"

Adam laughed and held the door open for Pa.

"If dog in house you watch," Hop Sing was saying to Little Joe. "Get in fireplace" he flung his arms wide "burn up. Turn over pans, get hurt."

Little Joe rolled his eyes and made a face. "He's little, Hop Sing, not stupid."

"Joseph, don't be rude."

"Well everybody thinks just 'cause you're little you don't know nothin'," Little Joe said to Pa. "And sometimes you know more'n the others and you just can't get a word in edgewise."

Adam's dark brows shot up. Was he talking about Smoke or himself?

Hoss frowned and tilted his head. "You don't expect Smoke t'start talkin', do ya?"

Little Joe pulled his shoulders up and made an exasperated sound. "No, I don't 'spect Smoke to talk. But if he did I bet he'd be smarter'n some people."

"I'm sure he would." Ben motioned to the table, reminding his son it was time to eat.

"I wonder why they don't," Hoss said when he was reaching for his second helping.

Ben looked to Adam to see if he understood the question - he only received a slight headshake and a suppressed smile.

"Wonder why who don't do what?" Had that question made sense?

"Well, don't you ever wonder why folks are the only ones who talk?" Hoss reached for another piece of bread. "I mean birds talk to other birds and cats talk to other cats but none of them talk human talk."

"Parrots do." Little Joe said with his mouth full. "Remember that one in New Orleans?"

Adam laughed, leaning his elbows on the table. "I remember Ma swatting Hoss' tail when he repeated what that parrot said."

Hoss pointed at his younger brother with his spoon, "I bet you could get 'im to say something." He frowned. "Course it'd have to be simple."

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk," Little Joe said. "Maybe he's happy just being a dog."

Adam didn't worry too much about Little Joe and Smoke but he could just imagine Hoss sitting patiently trying to teach Abigail and John Adams their alphabet.

+++

After the first week, Smoke had learned he could not climb the pine trees with Abigail and John Adams no matter how much he sat and wailed near the trunk; everyone had stepped on him at least once; he had caused great consternation in the chicken coop when he dug under the fence and declared himself ruler of all; and Ben and Hop Sing had agreed Smoke could have limited house privileges.

The house privileges were almost revoked after the first night when Ben reached for his belt after shaving and found one end completely mangled and the rest of it decorated with teeth marks.

Little Joe was setting the table and looked up to say "hi" as Pa stepped from his bedroom saying, "I thought we agreed Smoke would stay in your room last night."

Pa didn't sound angry but try as he might, Little Joe couldn't pull his eyes from the belt. "He did, Pa."

Pa laid the belt on the table. "I don't think so."

Little Joe looked at the belt from a safe distance. Would it be okay to say he was sorry? Or would that just make Pa more upset? What he'd have to do was to buy Pa a new belt and keep better control of Smoke. "Why'd he do that, Pa?"

"Because he's teething. Losing his milk teeth and cutting new ones. I suggest you direct his energies toward that rawhide braid Fernando made for him."

"Maybe it's rats." Adam smiled at Hop Sing as he reached to the middle of the table to pour a cup of coffee.

"Rats?" Hoss came in the front door.

Adam didn't miss a beat. "Hop Sing cooked rats for breakfast."

Hoss screwed up his face. "Is that some kinda Chinese cure for somethin'?"

"This Chinese not eat rat," Hop Sing assured. He placed a dish on the table. "More likely damage done to belt by squirrels seeking revenge for all relatives we have eaten." He grinned at Adam and turned to retrieve the plate of biscuits.

Hoss' noticed the damaged belt then and exclaimed, "Holy smoke!"

It beat him why Adam and Hop Sing burst into laughter, Pa rubbed his hands across his face, and Little Joe muttered, "It ain't funny."

Little Joe didn't have much to say at breakfast, feeling bad as he did about Smoke chewing on Pa's belt. But then when he stepped outside to do his chores he recalled Pa telling him once about blessings coming in all shapes and sizes.

"You know, Smoke," he said as they walked toward the woodpile, "you might just be a blessing." He sat on the chopping block and picked up the puppy. "It might not be so bad Pa not having a belt for a while." He hugged his new pal closely and then put him down as Pa stepped off the side of the porch.

Little Joe ambled up to him with his hands stuck in his front pockets. "Pa? Can I ask you somethin'?"

Ben pulled on his gloves.

"How'd Smoke get to your belt if you put it up like you're always tellin' me to do with my stuff?"

Ben stopped short. His son was right. It must have fallen to the floor where short legs could reach it. Little Joe laughed and ran toward the front meadow.

+++

Little Joe's level of activity, and his willingness to lend a hand, especially to Hoss, did not go unnoticed by Ben as the week passed.

"If I'd known having a dog would help this much, I would have gotten one when Joe cut his first tooth," he admitted to his middle son as they moved the cattle to new grazing.

Hoss cut him a puzzled look. "How d'ya mean, Pa?"

"He's up with the rest of us, doing chores, staying out of mischief -"

Hoss' usually contagious laugh stopped Ben short. "Smoke ain't got nothin' to do with that."

Ben waited silently for an explanation.

His middle son eased his horse closer. He had such a gentle way with animals - it took very little for him to get them to do what he wanted. "He's working off his debt." Hoss' face was full of delight.

"Working off his debt?"

"Yes sir. He didn't have a nickel to his name to help buy that window glass so he's payin' his share off by doin' some of my chores."

Ben sighed. He'd known it was too good to be true. "When's he paid up?"

"Aw, I went easy on the little guy. He's free come Saturday."

Hoss had gone easy on him. Glass was expensive out here. Ben started to say he'd pay for part of it and then thought better of it. There was a lesson to be learned.

"Hey, Pa?" Hoss licked his lip and lowered his voice. "Can you keep a secret?"

"What kind of secret?" Ben asked and had the oddest sensation that he'd had this conversation before.

"Well, I've been talkin' with Abigail and John Adams at night and -"

"You've been talking to them, son."

"No, sir, that's what I was gonna tell ya. I been talkin' with 'em."

Hoss' eyes were so full of conviction, and his expression so solemn, that Ben stopped his horse.

"Hoss, I've seen animals do some pretty unusual things for you and I'll be the first to admit you have a special way with them. But cats don't talk to people."

His son gave a slight jerk of his head. "Well, it ain't like regular talk, Pa. Leastways not yet."

Not yet? Oh, Lord help him. When Hoss got an idea in his head he could be more determined than Little Joe and Adam combined.

Ben muttered under his breath and looked up to the sky.

"What'd you say, Pa?" Hoss leaned forward in his saddle.

"Animals do not talk to humans."

Hoss shrugged that Pa was entitled to his opinions, wrong as they were, and rode off to direct a stray cow in the correct direction.

Ben walked into the house an hour later, wondering how old Hoss would be before he understood the difference between animals and human, and nodded to Hop Sing. "Where's the puppy wrangler?" he asked as he poured a cup of coffee.

Hop Sing paused in kneading biscuit dough. He considered his words carefully. "Little Joe have busy afternoon. Discuss it out back with Smoke."

Ben laughed and walked out the back door, blowing on his coffee. Little Joe was seated on the ground beside the smokehouse, speaking to Smoke who was - at least for the moment - giving him undivided attention.

Little Joe's voice was calm and he spoke in a deliberate way that Ben recognized as his own. "You gotta behave, Smoke. I never saw Pa lift a hand to a animal but he's tanned me and he'll do it again on account of I'm supposed to be training you. Worst of all, he'll make me give you away if you don't learn how to be respectful and obedient."

Ben's eyes softened as he listened to his youngest son.

"When I fuss at you it's for your own good and I do it cause I love you. If you just listen to me you're gonna be the best dog there ever was." He picked up the puppy and held him to his chest. "So let's have a better day tomorrow."

Hoss spoke softly at Ben's side. "Well don't that beat all? He's talking to Smoke just like you do to us."

First Hoss had told him his cats could talk. Now Little Joe was trying to reason with a puppy the way Ben reasoned with him. What was he going to do with these two?

+++

Abigail and John Adams were not happy that Smoke could go in the house and they couldn't but even Hoss saw the sense in the rule. After all, the kittens could climb anything they took a mind to including everything from bunk beds to the china hutch. They were also fully capable of tipping over candles and getting into Hop Sing's cooking. The very thought of Hop Sing refusing to prepare meals was all Hoss needed to keep the two felines outside.

Smoke enjoyed having the five humans to himself in the evenings. When one grew tired of him generally someone else was willing to play with his rope or scratch his back. And if everyone ignored him he could always find mischief of his own, which invariably got them laughing and the attention focused back where he wanted it. For some reason, Little Joe didn't like it when Smoke trampled through the checkers game and Hoss got upset if he pulled on the horses' tack as he repaired it. He liked the sound of Adam's voice and curled up at the oldest brother's feet when he read aloud.

The best thing about being inside was the secret Pa and he had. It wasn't that Smoke didn't like sleeping with Little Joe, but the boy tossed and turned and usually sent Smoke crashing to the floor early in the night. So after everyone had gone to bed, the two of them would go to Pa's room and Smoke could curl up in Pa's chair. He had to be quiet and the only time he whimpered and woke Pa was when he needed to go outside. Then he took care of business quickly because he was eager to return to his warm nest. In the morning Pa would let him out again and Smoke returned to sit on the floor and watch the tall man shave until he heard Little Joe in the living room. Then he'd go running, barking all the way.

"Pa?" Little Joe stood near a horse Adam was tending in the barn after Smoke's second week as a Cartwright. "Did you ever get tired of taking care of us?"

Ben brushed Molly. "How do you mean, son?"

"Did you ever feel like sometimes we were never gonna learn anything?"

In spite of himself he laughed. "There are times when I still do."

"Did you think we'd never quit teething?" Little Joe hadn't told Pa yet about the reins he'd found yesterday afternoon that had been chewed.

Ben sighed deeply. "I thought you'd never get all your teeth, never quit crying in the middle of the night, never quit needing someone to feed you -"

"He still needs help with that," Hoss teased good-naturedly as he led his horse into the stall.

Little Joe made a face at his brother but quickly stopped when Pa saw him. "How long do you figure Smoke'll be a puppy?"

Ben leaned on the stall. "Hard to say. Probably another six months or so."

"Six months!" Little Joe's mouth fell open.

"You didn't have anything special planned, did you?" Adam asked.

"My hair'll be getting gray like Pa's if -" Little Joe stopped as his two brothers said "oooh".

A burst of laughter from Pa turned them all toward the open barn doors and the corral. "Who taught him to do this?"

Little Joe ran out of the barn. He needed to be first so he could figure out an excuse if Pa fussed at him for not keeping an eye on Smoke.

Adam put one gloved hand on Little Joe's shoulder as he stopped at his side. "Look at him go."

While Abigail and John Adams perched on the edge of the horse trough, swatting at the water with their little paws, Smoke paddled furiously up and down the length of it - his head held high and his front paws creating big splashes.

"Where'd he learn to do that?" Little Joe looked into his brother's deep blue eyes.

"Instinct."

"Sure does look like a good idea," Hoss said longingly.

"I'm afraid you're too big for the horse trough, son." Ben pulled off his gloves.

"Figure if we finish up fast we could go swimmin'?"

"I could probably spare the three of you."

He hadn't seen his sons move so quickly in a long time.

Curious to see what Smoke would do, Ben propped a foot on the corral fence and crossed his arms on the top rail. The puppy swam several more laps and then finally decided he was ready to get out. He pulled himself up with his front legs, peered over the edge and then tumbled, hitting the ground with the slightest of whimpers. Abigail and John Adams jumped down to wrestle with him but he stood and gave a shake that sent water everywhere and the two kittens scampering. They stopped and looked back and the wet puppy ran to join them.

Somebody in that threesome was in for a surprise in a couple of months when Smoke towered over the cats. But for the life of him Ben couldn't figure out who.

+++

"And what do you intend to do with Smoke?" Ben asked when his son asked to go with them to town. "You can't leave him in his crate for that length of time."

"I'll tie him up, Pa. He'll be fine."

"Be sure he has plenty of water and shade, son."

"I will. Bet he'll just take it easy while we're gone."

Ben should have known better. No puppy on God's earth ever took it easy for long. From the moment they could see the tree in front of the house, and the gnawed end of rope, his stomach burned.

Little Joe didn't even wait for that look Pa could level on you. He jumped from the wagon and ran to the rope, looked around and then wished he were anywhere but here. The door into the house was open - and he had been the last one out.

He moaned and ran across the porch, pushing the door completely open.

Smoke had had a grand old time while they were gone. He had gnawed at the edge of the hide rug in front of the fire place, ripped open the seat cover on the wooden settee, chewed at one of the dining room chair legs, jumped to the seat of the desk chair, and was standing on the desk tearing a book apart.

Little Joe screamed in agony. Not a book! Anything but a book! He ran to his puppy and jerked him from the desk, taking a torn page from Smoke's mouth as the rest of the family entered the house. Pa was going to make him give up Smoke for sure now.

Adam's blue eyes surveyed the damage. He pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, biting at his lip to keep from saying something in anger.

Hoss stared in disbelief and looked around the room slowly. "How could one little fella do all this?"

"Puppy not learn anything," Hop Sing said angrily.

Helpless and scared Little Joe clutched Smoke too him.

Despite his anger, Ben recognized the fear in his son's eyes. "Would you care to explain how he got into the house?"

"It's - so - much," Little Joe gasped for breaths, trying not to cry in front of his brothers.

"What's so much, son?"

"You - gotta - watch him - all the - time - and - train 'im - and - and - try to keep 'im - from getting' hurt." Little Joe looked into Ben's face with all the earnestness of childhood. "Pa, you just don't know - what it's like."

Ben smiled gently. "I think I do." He put a hand on Smoke's forehead and the puppy quieted. "And even when you don't like what he does you always love him."

Little Joe swiped the back of his hand under his nose. "Yeah," he said wonderingly, remembering Pa saying the same words to him after he'd burned down the outhouse.

"Well," Pa said philosophically, "there's one thing about it. He'll be grown before too long."

"You think so, Pa?" Little Joe's eyes searched Ben's face.

"It'll happen before you know it." Ben said. "In the meantime, you have your work cut out for you, Joseph."

Little Joe put Smoke down. Wary, he approached his oldest brother who stood now at the desk, looking down at the damaged book.

"I'm real sorry, Adam."

Ben could see the high color that always accompanied Adam's anger.

Adam closed the book and gathered the loose pages. Then he put his hands on his hips and turned to Little Joe. "You know he's your responsibility?"

Little Joe nodded.

"And you're going to replace this book after you replace Pa's belt."

Another nod.

Adam licked his lip. "Did I ever tell you about the time Thaddeus chewed up my grandmother's silk drapery?"

Ben knew then that everything would be all right

+++

By Smoke's third week on the ranch, he was adept at avoiding moving boots; everyone expected the feed sacks to have holes gnawed in the corners when they lifted them; sharing stories about rescuing him from being closed in the outhouse, lost behind hay bales and hiding under fallen tack filled their dinner time with laughter; and nothing was left within his curious reach in the house.

Much to Ben's approval, Little Joe was teaching the puppy manners. He was to be quiet while they ate and begging was forbidden - although he developed a disconcerting habit of dragging his little dinner dish around and banging it against the floor. He was also allowed to howl when Adam sang.

The puppy's behavior was becoming more acceptable but Ben was beginning to worry about Hoss.

One evening, he walked out to enjoy the cool air and look at the stars and heard Hoss in the barn, softly talking to Abigail and John Adam.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Hoss said as the kittens sat in his lap. "Sometimes you get halfway into doing something and realize you haven't thought it through all the way, right?"

John Adams made what for the world sounded like an agreeing, chirrup sound.

"And you know what happens then?" Hoss asked.

Abigail tilted her head and meowed questioningly.

"It never fails that someone comes along and catches ya. Have you ever noticed that?"

Abigail meowed again.

Not believing his eyes or his ears, Ben leaned against the open barn door.

"And you know who's the best at catchin' me doin' something stupid?" John Adams issued the closest thing he could to a growl. "Yep," Hoss said. "Pa."

Ben smiled and looked down. Wasn't that true of every boy? His own father had never failed to be around when Ben learned something the hard way.

Abigail made an "oww" sound that brought Ben's head back up.

"No, it's too late for y'all t'be out in the dark." Hoss shook his head. "There's things out there that'd eat you in one gulp." He scratched behind her ears. "Besides, it's your bedtime. I know you're older but you still need your sleep."

Well, Ben had to admit it. That "oww" sound had sounded like "out" to him. Maybe there was something to what Hoss was telling him.

Or maybe he was just extra tired. Maybe he needed a good night's sleep.

Ben opened his door and Smoke immediately sat on the floor by the foot of the bed. He politely waited for Ben to pull off his boots and, as soon as the chair in the corner was vacated, jumped into it. He was really growing - he didn't need that upside down box as a booster the way he used to.

"Good night, boy," Ben said and pulled the sheet up to his chest.

He was deep in sleep when Smoke's whimpering woke him.

"Oh, you're kidding," Ben muttered. "What did you do? Drink a bowlful of water before bed?" He pulled on his pants and held open his bedroom door but Smoke hesitated and whined.

Ben frowned. "You know better than -" What was wrong? His senses snapped like the crack of a whip. He stepped back into his room, yanked on his socks and boots, and walked into the living room. Pausing only long enough to grab the rifle and extra shells he was soon on the front porch.

There wasn't a breath of air outside. Normally the breeze died down at night anyhow. But this was warm stale air. Smoke whimpered again.

"Something's wrong," Ben agreed.

The puppy stood beside him and looked toward the barn.

For more than a week, they had been aware of coyotes in the area - had heard them at night and even seen them occasionally during the day. But Ben doubted coyotes would come this close to the house. More than likely it was the foxes back to raid the chicken coop.

With the gun loaded, he stepped off the porch and started toward the chicken coop. Lord if he fired this thing at night those hens wouldn't lay for a week!

Smoke growled and grabbed Ben's pants hem. "Smoke, stop," Ben warned softly. All he needed was to trip and fire the rifle heaven knew where.

But the little rascal wasn't giving up. He growled again, ever so gently and pulled on Ben's pants. As soon as the man looked down at him, he cautiously took a few steps toward the barn.

"Are you telling me there's something in there?" Ben whispered. "All right. Show me what's wrong."

It couldn't be.

The barn door was swinging back and forth in the night breeze. How had he not heard that in his sleep? Wondering now if he should have awakened Adam for backup, he followed behind the fuzzy gray puppy.

As soon as Smoke stopped, Ben did. There was no more than a quarter moon and he didn't want to light a lantern.

When they rounded the open barn door, Ben could barely distinguish two shapes beside Abigail and John Adams' crate. The kittens were huddled in a corner, their frightened meows pulling at Ben's heart.

He couldn't fire the gun for fear of hitting one of them. But the predators, which looked to be coyotes, had to go.

Suddenly, with more bravado than good sense, Smoke ran into the barn barking as if he were four times his size. The coyotes were caught off guard only momentarily but it was all Ben needed. He fired into the air, away from the corral and barn, and hoped to heaven the bullet didn't damage anything. At the sound of the rifle, the coyotes flew past him. But the gunshot had also frightened Smoke.

Ben quickly sat on his heels and finally coaxed the poor little creature to him. He held Smoke with the puppy's head nestled into his neck, front paws at his shoulders. "You're okay," he consoled, patting the little guy on the back. Smoke whimpered. "I know. I know. You're all right." More gentle pats to the puppy's back. "But one day you'll be the best dog there ever was and you'll be used to those rifle shots and you'll be a great bird dog." It didn't take Smoke long to recover and when he did he licked Ben all over his cheeks.

"That's enough of that," Ben said as he put the puppy down. "Now let's get this crate inside where Abigail and John Adams will be safe. And in the morning we'll remind those three sons to double check the barn lock."

He dusted his hands and turned toward the front of the barn. All three of those sons, as well as Hop Sing, were watching him.

"Smoke was protecting the kittens from coyotes," he explained as he picked up the rifle. "You might want to bring them in, Hoss."

His middle son stood smiling at Pa knowingly. "Looked to me like Smoke and you were havin' a nice little talk."

"Well, the rifle shot scared him, son. We don't want him gun shy."

Hoss looked down, hiding his laugh. What was it about Pa that he couldn't admit animals were just like folks? "No, sir, sure don't want that."

Little Joe stepped forward. "Ya mean Smoke was a hero, Pa?"

Ben considered the question. "It's hard to call an animal a hero, Joseph. He was being a guard dog."

But his youngest son was not convinced. He picked up Smoke. "Hear that Smoke? You were a hero. You're the best dog in the world, aren't ya, Smoke?" Little Joe turned, carrying the happy puppy and wondered if there was any sourdough bread left. Smoke really liked it and it seemed to Little Joe that the puppy had earned something special for his bravery. After all, they gave people medals didn't they?

Besides, he wanted to get back to the house. He thought, not for the first time, how glad he was that Pa hadn't replaced his belt yet. Little Joe had been the last one out of the barn.

+++

After dinner the next evening, Hoss headed toward the barn - Ben assumed for more conversation with Abigail and John Adams.

Little Joe and Smoke went outside to play. Little Joe had spent the better part of the day praising Smoke for rescuing the kittens and even now was in the front meadow singing a song he'd composed especially for Smoke. They'd heard it about two hundred times. Hoss and he were also working on a collar for Smoke with his name and the words "Best Dog Ever" - Adam had taken to calling it the BDE Award Collar.

The night air finally called to Ben. He sat on the bench and eventually Hop Sing joined him with an evening mug of hot tea. They sat in amiable silence until Adam came from the house and sat on the edge of the porch. By then Hoss was out front, talking with his kittens about last night's adventure and Ben could hear Little Joe gently speaking to Smoke near the barn, praising him for being so brave and saving the kittens' lives. As far as Little Joe was concerned, his father had played a relatively minor role in the incident.

"Well?" Adam asked in mild challenge.

Ben turned his head slightly.

"Are you willing to admit that Abigail and John Adams will pull their weight keeping mice and rats out of the feed and away from the house? And Smoke will be good as a guard dog and a herder?"

"Don't forget he keep Little Joe busy so boy have less time for mischief," Hop Sing added and Adam smiled.

"I just wish Hoss understood there's a difference between animals and humans," Ben said softly, avoiding Adam's question. "He still thinks they can talk."

Adam leaned his back against the porch post and bent his left leg at the knee. "Seems to me you did some talking to Smoke of your own," he observed.

"I was reassuring him -" Ben explained again.

"I'm not talking about after you fired the rifle," Adam's voice was soft.

Ben studied his son. "Would you like to tell me what you are talking about?"

"When he led you to the barn. You told him to show you what was wrong." Adam did not look his way. "You don't need to worry, Pa. I was the only one up then. Hop Sing and Hoss and Little Joe didn't get up until you shot the rifle. All they saw was you holding Smoke like a baby and patting him on the back."

When had Adam had become such an impertinent young man?

Ben's oldest son gave a quick jerk of his chin toward his brother and the kittens. "Haven't you figured out where Hoss gets his love of animals?"

Of course Ben knew. "From his mother."

Adam twisted his lips. "Who sat up with Molly when she was sick? Who stayed in the barn in the freezing weather to deliver that calf and then cared for it for two days until he knew it would live?"

"We couldn't afford to lose them," Ben said, explaining his actions. He looked from Hop Sing to Adam and could tell they didn't believe him. "What?"

"You were just doing what any other rancher would do," Adam stated.

"Yes," Ben felt himself becoming defensive.

Sometimes Pa could be so stubborn. Adam gave a brief nod of acknowledgement, deciding not to argue.

Then Hop Sing spoke. "Who make special bed for John Adams when he step on kitten paw and hurt it? And then take both kittens in bedroom when night get chilly?"

"I knew if they caught cold and died we wouldn't get any work out of Hoss."

What was wrong with them? Why were they giving him those looks?

"Why you let puppy sleep in your chair each night?"

Now darn it that was enough! How did Hop Sing know about that anyhow?

"Because it keeps him quiet."

He still expected each animal to pull its weight but in the meantime they needed extra care and attention. Smoke and Abigail and John Adams were babies. Surely Adam and Hop Sing understood that.

Well, whether they did or not, he didn't have to explain his actions to anyone. Ben stood abruptly and entered the house.

Hop Sing smiled once the front door closed. "Fruit not fall far from tree."

Adam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Boys not good liars but father worst of all."

The end

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