"Easy, boys. We're fine. Eat your supper," Jim said calmly taking another bite of his own food.

"It just startled me, Papa. That was a lot closer than the others. I'm not scared."

"Me neither, Uncle Jim."

"Well, that's good, boys. There's nothing to be afraid of. After supper if it's still going on, we can watch lightning from the porch."

The boys cleaned their plates quickly and asked to be excused. Donning coats, they scrambled to the porch to watch nature's fireworks light up the sky.

After drying the last dish, Jim checked the clock on the mantle. It was past nine, high time for the boys to be in bed.

Sticking his head out the door, he called the boys inside.

"Ah, but I'm not tired," Blair griped as his father helped him and Justin out of their coats.

"Me neither," Justin pouted as he and Blair were herded to the bedrolls laid out by the fireplace.

"It's time for sleep, boys," Jim said wearily. He pointed to the bedrolls. "Hit the sack."

"But, Papa--" Blair argued as sat on the bedding and took off his boots, Justin doing the same.

The boy's protest was cut off by a firmly uttered, "One."

"Uncle Jim, couldn't we--" Justin tried to beg a later night even as he began undressing for bed.

"Two."

"Come on, Justin," Blair said, before pulling his nightshirt over his head.

"But--"

"Trust me," Blair said knowingly as he got into his sleep sack. "You don't want him to get to three."

Justin quickly donned his nightshirt and got between the covers.
"Goodnight, Uncle Jim."

"Sweet dreams, boys," the rancher said, squatting down to bestow a quick kiss to each forehead. "See you in the morning." He banked the fire and put himself to bed as the storm continued to rage outside.

As the rancher began to fade into sleep, movement to either side of him brought him back to wakefulness. There were two small sources of heat, one on either side of him trying to burrow closer.

"Boys? Bad dream?"

A loud crack of thunder answered that question for him as Justin gasped and clutched at the rancher's clothing. Blair buried his face deeper into his father's side. Jim rubbed a hand up and down each child's arm to soothe them. He hummed a lullaby his mother used to sing to him and after awhile the trembling bodies next to his became heavy weights against his sides. After tenderly kissing the two foreheads resting in the crook of each arm he faded off to sleep, too.

~~~

"Careful, Justin, I don't want it dragging in the mud. That's my favorite shirt," Jim admonished patiently to his guest "helper".

"I got it, Uncle Jim. I help Chu Wa all the time." Jim bit back a smile at the pride in the boy's voice, picturing just what kind of help he was to the very capable elderly Chinaman. Although, he had to admit the washing did go a bit quicker this time with another set of hands -- or was it all the chatter that made it seem that way?

"I'm sure you do, squirt," he said, taking the soggy piece of clothing from the boy and hanging it on the line to dry.

"Blair, I need another one." The rancher held out his hand and a clothes pin was placed in it by his other "helper".

While Jim's attentions were focused on the shirt he hung on the line, the boys reached into the basket at the same time.

"I got it, Blair!"

"No, I got it!"

"It's too heavy for you."

"I do this all the time."

"So do I."

While the boys argued, they both came up with opposite ends of a large, very wet sheet from the basket.

"Give it to me, you helped with the shirt," Blair said, pulling.

"It's too big for you, Blair. Gimme!"

"Boys!" Jim admonished a moment too late.

The tug o' war ended quickly when the muddy ground caused both boys' feet to slide and land them in the muck, covered with the heavy, wet sheet. Both boys remained still in the deafening silence that followed.

A stern voice came down to them from above. "Get. Up."

Slowly they made their way from under the wet mass, picking it up as they went. The two boys stood side by side, sheet spilling out of their arms to drag on the muddy ground. Each boy reached back to pull his wet, muddy pants away from his body, and waited for the ax to fall.

"What in tarnation has gotten into you two?"

"He started—"

Jim held up a hand. "No. I don't want to hear it. I was here. I know what happened. You two should be ashamed of yourselves. Big boys fighting like little children over nothing." The boys hung their heads. "Now, I think the water is still hot enough to get that sheet clean, if you scrub it real good."

"By ourselves!"

A searing look cut off any other commentary.

"Get going," the angry father commanded, motioning with his head in the direction of the wash tub.

Jim pulled back a hand as the boys turned to obey, preparing to give each boy's bottom a well deserved smack. His hand halted midway there when his brain registered the muddy condition of the target areas. "And boys," he called after them, "wash your pants, too!"

Over an hour later, one very clean sheet and two reasonably washed pairs of pants were hung on the line, by two very tired and sorry little boys.

Justin and Blair admired their work for a moment, wearing only their drawers, work boots and shirts.

"Glad that's done," Justin said, his hands on his hips.

"Me, too," Blair echoed.

"Any more chores we gotta do?"

"Better go check."

They made their way to the barn where Jim was busy trimming the horses hooves.

"Papa, we're done. Can we help with anything else?"

Jim let Blaze's leg down and faced the boys. "If you're offering real help I can use it. If it's more of those monkeyshines from earlier you might as well go stand yourselves in the corner right now because that's where you're headed if there's anymore shenanigans for the rest of Justin's stay. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," they said together.

"We really want to help," Blair said.

"We'll behave," Justin sincerely assured his uncle.

"All right. You can start--" Jim trailed off on his thought as he noticed the boys' condition for the first time. "Why don't you have pants on?"

"You told us to wash them," Blair said innocently. "I don't have another pair that aren't drying--except my Sunday pants." His wrinkled nose let his father know what he thought of that idea.

"That was my last pair, too," Justin chimed in.

The rancher sighed heavily. Patrick Choate was going to have a few choice words for him when Justin was returned home. "Fine. You can sweep out Blaze's stall while I get him finished up. Brownie's next then Sentry. I've already finished with Ceylon and the other Morgans."

One boy took a rake and the other a shovel and they got to work.

The sun was high in the sky when Blair let Sentry into the pasture to graze with the other horses. He had worked hard to keep his mouth shut and his mind focused on the task while cleaning stalls with Justin. It's not that he was put out with his friend, he just didn't want Papa to be upset with them anymore.

"Blair! Justin!" his father called. "Come wash up for lunch."

Over the lunch table, the conversation was subdued. The boys ate quietly, making sure to remember their table manners.

"I checked on the laundry. Should be dry in another couple of hours," Jim said casually before taking another bite of stew. The boys nodded and kept on eating. "Kindling bin's low. After we clean up from lunch you boys can go collect some wood--and then you can go play until supper time. You did a good job cleaning the stalls."

The boys beamed at the praise.

"There,' Blair said as he dropped his load of sticks into the now-brimming bin by the fireplace, "that's done."

"Finally! I thought we'd never finish," Justin said as he wiped his dirty hands on his drawers. A twinkle lit his eyes. "Let's play Indians."

Blair turned to his friend. "Okay."

"No, I mean real Indians." The older boy smiled as he began stripping off the remainder of his clothing.

"What are you doing?"

"Loincloths. We need something to use as loincloths," Justin said as he slipped off his drawers.

"Are you crazy?"

"No. I'm an Indian." He laughed as he spied half a dozen large, red and blue handkerchiefs drying on the line. Looking around to see if his Uncle Jim was near, Justin raced out, snatched four of the pieces of cloth and raced back to Blair. "These'll work." He handed two out to the younger boy. "Don't you want to play?"

"Sure," Blair said, warming to the idea. "I've just never thought of using these before...We won't hurt them though, right?"

"Aww, come on, Blair! It'll be fun!"

"Yeah!" In a flurry, Blair began to strip out of his clothes.

"And what do we do for war paint?" Justin asked as he tied the two bandannas together around his middle to keep his 'loincloth' in place.

Blair followed suit. "Papa keeps the cans of paint back here," he said, walking to the shed next to the barn.

Spying the small can of red they'd used to paint Christmas decorations, Blair took it down. "How about this?"

Justin took it and opened the can. "This'll do just great!"

~~~
Smoothing out the blankets on the freshly made bed, Jim turned to put the rest of the clean, folded clothes away. He kept an ear tuned to the boys. They'd been whooping it up, having a big time along the creek bank for over an hour. Only one more day and then Justin went home. There'd been some tense, frustrating moments this week, but overall it'd been a good one. After all, they were all still in one piece. The ranch hadn't been destroyed. Yep, it'd been a good week. He'd take the boys swimming one more time tomorrow. Maybe they'd make a picnic of it. Shoot. He'd even try to bake those cookies that Chu Wa gave him the recipe for. He might even let the boys help.

Satisfied that everything was in its place, Jim went to the woodshed to get a load of firewood for the evening. He'd just started back across the yard when a movement off to his side, accompanied by a war cry, caught his attention.

"I'll be..." The flabbergasted rancher set the wood down and trotted around the cabin for a closer look at what was happening to his freshly washed handkerchiefs.

Making his way quietly through the brush, he heard a childish baritone, "I am a mighty warrior." The rancher peeked around a large pine tree, having to bite his lip to keep quiet. There stood his two charges, painted face to painted face and looking very serious, the kerchiefs around their waists flapping in the gentle breeze.

"You are a mighty warrior," Blair mimicked his friend's attempt at sounding grown up. The boy placed a necklace made of woven grassroots over Justin's head.

Not at all pleased at how his property was being used, or how it had been "procured" for the purpose, Jim stepped from behind the tree. The two boys jumped, startled, and stood wide-eyed as he approached.

"That may be true, chief, but those are my bandannas and I'll thank you to ask next time you want to use them," Jim said firmly, standing tall with his hands folded over his chest. He gestured with a finger , his arms still tightly crossed. "What's that on your faces?"

"Paint from the shed," Blair said softly. "Papa--"

The fed up rancher sternly cut off any excuses. "Go wash it off, get dressed, and pick a corner to stand in."

As the boys slowly walked to the house to comply, Jim fell into step behind them and gave each "loinclothed" backside a hard swat. With dual yelps, both boys turned stunned faces to their attacker, hands rubbing their punished bottoms. "Quit the foot-dragging and get moving." Like a shot, the boys ran to the cabin and quickly carried out orders.

"I still don't see why we have to stand here like this," Justin muttered from the corner by the eating table. He turned from his nose-in-the corner position to look over his shoulder at his accomplice in the corner behind him. "Nothing got hurt. The handkerchiefs weren't even dirty...much."

Blair whispered from his corner, "We should have asked first. Papa's real big on getting permission before borrowing stuff. And you better be quiet like he told us to be. He'll hear and then we'll be in bigger trouble."

Annoyed, Justin asked very softly, "How's he going to hear? He's outside."

With a resigned sigh, Blair whispered back, "Papa has real good hearing. He doesn't miss anything. Now hush, or we might really get it."

With a pout, Justin took his friend's advice, just as his uncle Jim came through the door with an armload of wood.

Setting the wood down by the fireplace, Jim rose and wiped his hands across his pants. "I suggest you both hush. You've got another ten minutes to stand there and think about how you behaved today, but if I hear any more grumbling it'll be twenty."

Both boys stood straighter and kept their mouths shut.

Ten minutes later, Jim had supper started, a simple meal of beans, bacon and biscuits.

"All right, boys. You can come out now."

Both boys left their corners, Justin hanging back around the table. Blair approached his father, a sorrowful expression on his face.

"I'm sorry I was naughty today, Papa."

Jim tousled his son's hair before pulling the contrite boy into a big bear hug. "I would have lent you some work rags to play with if you'd asked, Little Bit."

"I will next time. Promise."

"Okay, son." Jim gave the boy a big squeeze. "It's over. Just don't do it again." Setting Blair down, Jim turned to where Justin had been standing, only to find the boy wasn't there anymore. The cabin door stood wide open. As Blair went to set the table, Jim said, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Jim followed the sound of quiet crying to the barn and found Justin sobbing into Dulce's mane. He approached the boy carefully, the way he would a frightened colt.

"Hey, squirt," he crooned while tenderly petting the boy's thick black hair.

Justin didn't acknowledge his presence.

"Want to tell me what's wrong?"

The child shook his head.

"Why not?"

This question earned the rancher a shrug from the distraught child.

Gently, Ellison turned the boy around to face him. Justin kept his head
lowered, eyes on the ground.

"Bet I can guess. You miss Patrick?"

Slowly, the small dark head bobbed up and down in concordance.

"There's nothing wrong with that, squirt. This is the longest you've ever been away from him." The rancher used his finger to raise the bowed head until the sad, green eyes fixed on his face. "I know I'm a poor substitute for your papa, but I'll do my best to fill-in until he gets back."

Justin sniffed, drawing a shuddering breath. "Blair's," he sobbed.

Jim took the child tenderly in his arms. "Oh, I think there's enough of me to go around, squirt."

The big rancher smiled as thin arms finally reached out to wrap around his waist and squeeze tight.

~~~

Jim had to suppress a chuckle at the way Justin repeatedly would canter Dulce ahead then circle back at a walk for him and Blair. They were only another fifteen minutes from being in sight of The Chelsea. They'd left home midmorning. He hoped for the boy's sake that Choate was back from the drive as planned -- the big rancher didn't want to have to console a very disappointed Justin. They turned the bend that brought the ranch house into view. Jim could see signs of life.

"Justin, why don't you ride on in? Blair and I will be there directly." Jim didn't bother hiding his laughter as Justin lit out at a slow gallop for home.

Justin barely let Dulce come to a stop before jumping from her back. His feet scarcely touched the ground before he was off and running.

"Baba!" he called, barreling through the front door and making a sharp left. "Baba!" His father wasn't in the study. "Baba!"

"Young master," Chu Wa's soft voice cut through his frantic searching.

"Where's Paddy, Chu Wa?"

"I believe he's out in the barn--" Chu Wa shook his head at the streak of color that tore through the back door.

"Baba!" Justin called as he burst through the barn door.

"Hey!" Hoss caught the flying projectile before it could collide with him. "Where's the fire, shorty?"

"Baba?" Justin said, wiggling in the large man's grasp.

"He went up to the house."

"Chu Wa said he was down here."

"Sorry, shorty," Wily said, coming up behind his friend. "He took packages up to the house."

Hoss shook his hands to get the feeling back in them from Justin snatching out of his grip.

"Baba!" Justin screamed as he raced back towards the house.

"Justin?" Choate's head poked out from the edge of the veranda.

"Baba!"

Choate walked down the stairs and almost made it to the yard before Justin launched himself the remaining feet between them.

Desperately, the big man stretched out to pluck the excited child from the air before he fell to the ground like a rock.

Justin immediately attached himself to his father with his arms and legs.

"I missed you!" he cried, before burying his face in his father's neck.

Choate hugged the small body close. "I missed you, too, hijito!"

"Welcome home, Patrick!" Jim called as he and Blair rode up.

Choate glanced up at his friend. Lowering Justin to the ground, the rancher quickly cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. "Es bueno ser
casero, amigo."

Blair hopped from Ceylon and hugged his uncle around the waist. "Glad you're back, Uncle Paddy."

Choate returned the embrace warmly. "Were you two good boys for Jim?"

Both boys exchanged worried glances and turned wary faces to Ellison.

"They were just fine, Patrick," Jim said as he climbed the stairs two at a time to stand next to the boys. He exchanged a hearty handshakes with the younger rancher. "How was your trip?"

"Long and dirty. If I don't see another steer for awhile I'll be happy."

"Not even Percy, Baba?" Justin asked as he held open the front door.

"Let me get a long bath and a hot meal before I answer that, chiquito," Choate laughed. "Right now, not even Percy."

The small troupe entered the house and were met by the tiny ancient.

"Masters," he said, smiling as he bowed.

"Chu Wa! I missed you," Justin said in Chinese, hugging the man who was only a head taller than himself.

"Did you, young master? Or did you just miss my cookies?" His smile grew wider.

Justin blushed. "Both," he confessed finally.

Everyone laughed.

~~~

The two ranchers made themselves comfortable in the armchairs by a large fire in Choate's study. Supper had been full of questions from both boys about the cattle drive, followed by their telling of their visit to the Shoshoni village. Too soon for the boys, not soon enough for the tired fathers, bed time came. Now, with a brandy in hand, Choate wanted some answers.

"All right, amigo. 'Fess up."

Jim's face was all innocence. "What?"

"What? I know my son, Ellison."

"Justin is a good boy, Patrick."

"Justin is an imp."

The older rancher chuckled. "Yes, he is, but so's mine and they're still good boys." He shrugged and took a sip of warm brandy. "They were like they always are when they get together."

Choate frowned. "They were that bad, huh?" he said seriously, then, a second later, burst into laughter. "Just tell me no volcanoes."

After getting his own laughter under control, he said, "No, no volcanoes. Just a little mischief, and I handled it. No permanent damage was done to anything. We even went swimming a few times." Jim paused for a moment, swirling his drink in his hand, and broached the topic he'd been skirting all evening, "Patrick, do you swim?"

The laughter cut off immediately. "Why?" he asked, his face serious again.

"Because I taught Justin how a few days ago and I was surprised you hadn't done the job yourself. Now, answer my question. Can you swim?"

The frown turned into a remarkable adult version of the face Ellison had seen on his young nephew. "I--" The younger rancher's face began to blossom with color. "No," he said nearly too softly for the watchman's cinched hearing to catch.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Patrick. Lots of folks don't. For the boy's sake, you should learn, though. Hate to have him see you pulled under while fording a herd across stream on the next drive."

The color on the young rancher's cheeks blossomed. "You're right, Jim. I've just never really thought of it that way."

Unbalanced by how easily the younger man capitulated, Jim sat speechless for several moments. "Well, all right then. When's a good time? Next Sunday? Hey, that's pretty close to Justin's birthday isn't it?"

The blush receded quickly from Choate's face, replaced by paleness. "Birthday? Justin?" he stammered.

"What? You haven't made plans for Justin's birthday yet?" Jim stared at his young friend in disbelief.

Choate concentrated on the brandy glass in his hand. "I've been too busy. Why, has he said something to you?"

"No. All I know is I overheard the boys talking. Justin may not have said anything, but he's thinking it. He was there at Blair's party back in May. He wants a little fuss made over him, Choate. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I remember parties at my grandparents. They took weeks, months to prepare. Mi abuelita kept all the servants running around, hopping to her orders. I don't have that kind of help here. Chu Wa has enough to do."

"There's nothing to it. One of Chu Wa's cakes. Some streamers, maybe some ice cream. And definitely presents. The boy'll be thrilled."

"But we hardly know anyone. Who would I invite? What's a party without lots of guests?"

"It's not the size that matters."

"Twelve's a big step in a boy's life, Ellison. I'm afraid he'll be disappointed. Blair had such a big party--"

"Okay, I went a little big on Blair's, but Maude. . .Well, Maude insisted we have it at their place and I felt obliged since Jack's an old friend and he paved the way for the adoption.

"She did all the work. Say what you want about her, but Maude Pendergrast does have a soft spot for children. In her own way." At the pained expression on his friend's face, he hastily added, "Don't worry, I'm not suggesting you invite her brood, but Simon and Darryl Banks I'm sure would love to come. That's three boys including ours. You, me, Chu Wa, your hands and maybe Miss Rhonda. There you go. I'm riding into town day after tomorrow. I can take your invitation to the Banks'."

Choate frowned, but his friend knew he was weakening.

"Jim Ellison, if this plan goes bust, I'm holding you personally responsible."

The big rancher smiled and clapped his friend heartily on the back.

"It'll be fine, Patrick. You worry too much."

~~~
"You remembered Justin's present?" Blair asked again, making it an even dozen times since they began the ride to The Chelsea ranch.

"Yes, Blair."

"Why do I gotta bring my Sunday suit just to play at Justin's?" Blair complained for the fourth time since leaving home that morning.

Jim patiently responded with the same answer he'd give before. "Because we're not going to just play. It's his birthday, Little Bit. You should look your best, like you did at your own party."

"Didn't want to wear that dumb ol' suit then, either," the boy muttered just within Jim's hearing range.

"This is a special occasion, Blair. I expect you to be on your best behavior."

"Yes, Papa."

They rode in companionable quiet for a few more minutes before Blair said, "Wonder what kind of cake Mr. Chu Wa will make."

Teasing, Jim said, "Probably carrot cake." When Blair made a face, Jim couldn't resist. "Or maybe he'll try out that new cake made of greens he's been talking about. Umm, um. I'll bet that's tasty."

A look of total shock and dismay overtook the boy's face. Jim couldn't keep his mirth in any longer and laughed loudly.

At Blair's deep blush, he ruffled the boy's hair and chuckled even more.

~~~
"Justin Choate. Blair Ellison. If I so much as think I see you two up these stairs I'll paddle the both of you," Patrick said sternly as he shook his finger under the boys' noses.

He and Jim were doing something on the upper levels and the boys were barred until they finished. The two ranchers stood side by side at the foot of the staircase, blocking the way upstairs.

"What is it, Baba?" Justin tried for the hundredth time to get his father to tell.

"When we finish."

"But, Uncle Paddy--"

"Go help Chu Wa in the kitchen, Li'l Bit, Squirt," Jim said, using his 'brook no more argument' voice.

Slowly, the two boys turned and walked off down the hallway towards the kitchen.

"That was a terrible thing to do to the ancient, amigo," Choate said, smiling.

"He can handle it! He's tougher than he looks."

~~~

When the tiny old man walked into the kitchen from the cold cellar, he found two little boys busy with their fingers in his bowl of frosting.

Creeping up behind them, he snagged his trusty wooden spoon from the counter and swung it sharply at the two unsuspecting bottoms.

It connected with a resounding THWACK. Both boys jumped several inches into the air before spinning to face their attacker, while covering the target area.

"YEOW!" both boys said in unison.

"That hurt, Chu Wa!" Justin pouted.

"What do you think you are doing?" the old man asked in rapid Chinese.

"Baba sent us to help," Justin answered in the same language.

"But he did not send you here to eat all of my frosting! What will I have to put on the cake?!" He shook the spoon at the two imps.

"But, Mr. Chu Wa," Blair wailed as he rubbed his wounded bottom, "we were just making sure it was good! It'd be terrible if bad frosting got on Justin's birthday cake."

The tiny man shook his spoon again. "I catch you in my food again before the party and you will spend it standing up! Now go get more wood for the stove. If Mr. Patrick wants you to help, I will work you good!"

As the boys scurried out of reach of that deadly spoon, Chu Wa shook his head, muttering, "Bad frosting!" before he chuckled.

"Some birthday," Justin grumbled as he made his way back to the kitchen with his second load of wood. Blair followed with equally heavy-laden arms. "Doin' chores! Getting swatted -- by Chu Wa!"

"Yeah, and we can't go upstairs," Blair added in a huff as they made their way onto the back porch.

After dumping their burdens in the now-brimming woodbox, they cautiously entered the kitchen.

"We're finished, Chu Wa," Justin said sulkily.

"Good," the ancient said briskly. "Then you can wash this bowl. I will need it later." He handed the dirty bowl to Justin. "And make sure it is spotless," he added with a wink.

The boys peered into the mixing bowl in Justin's arms. It was the frosting bowl, remnants of the creamy mixture clinging to its surface.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Chu Wa. We'll get it clean," Blair said as he dragged his amazed friend out to the back porch.

Ten minutes later Justin and Blair brought Chu Wa back a spotless bowl.

"Very good, boys," the old man praised. "Now go wash the frosting from your faces." He smiled at their blushing, frosting-covered faces before they went to the wash basin to clean up.

Upstairs, a frustrated Patrick Choate stared at an equally perplexed Jim Ellison.

"You sure they sent all the pieces, Patrick?"

"Si."

Ellison scratched his head.

"I could call Hoss, Wily and Aces to help," Paddy offered.

"No. If we can run ranches the sizes of ours, we can darn sure put one little bed together!"

Choate looked skeptically at his friend. "How many beds have you built?"

The older rancher gave him a long, seething look before muttering dejectedly, "Better call your men or we'll be here until Christmas!"

The younger rancher smiled to himself as he walked out and leaned over the banister. "Chiquito," he called.

It only took the boys a second to appear.

"Baba?" Justin said, bouncing as excitedly as his young friend. "Can we come up now?"

"Ve y trae aquí a Hoss, Wily y Aces. Ahora, por favor.”

"Is it finished yet?"

"Ahora, chiquito."

"Yes, sir," Justin said, disappointed, but scurrying to obey, Blair at his heels.

"So, your men can build?" Jim asked as Patrick reentered the room.

Choate smiled. "Some."

"Think they could build something big?"

"Something like. . ."

"A room?"

"I think they could manage. Why?"

"I was thinking about adding on to the cabin."

"Madre de Dios! It's about time, amigo!"

The older man flushed with embarrassment. "I'm good at a lot of things, Patrick. Woodworking isn't one of them. I'd be scared to death any structure I made would come down on the boy's head at the first strong breeze."

The younger man laughed again. "No, I didn't mean it was about time you added on, I meant it was about time you asked for help." He laughed again. "I've been waiting forever. Wondering how I would slip it into a conversation. I finally decided the men and I would just have to show
up one morning."

"You talk like you've thought about this a long time."

"Would you be upset if I said we've even drawn a floor plan?"

The older man frowned. "Floor plan? I just want to cut through the east wall enough for a doorway and add a ten by ten room. And speaking of plans, what's this about taking Blair to Mexico?"

"But, Ellison, couldn't you just look at the plans. . .who said anything about taking Blair to Mexico?"

With a defeated sigh he said, "Fine. I'll look. And Justin said you'd promised to take him and Blair to see your grandfather in the spring."

The young man blushed. "Thank you, Jim. And about the trip, mi Tito made me promise to visit him in the spring and bring Justin. Since he and Blair are best friends, naturally mi hijito finagled an invitation for him to come along. I'm sorry, I meant to talk to you about it before he said anything to either of you. I guess the enthusiasm of youth jumped the gun on me." He gave his friend a sheepish look. "I hope you aren't upset, about either thing. . ."

"No, I'm not upset," Jim said, cuffing the younger man gently on the shoulder. "I just hope you know what you're getting into."

"Yo, boss!" Hoss' voice boomed up the stairwell.

"In here!"

All three men crowded into Justin's room making it seem small.

"What's up, mate?" Wily asked, smiling. "The boys are bouncing like mad balls downstairs."

"We're trying to put Justin's bed together," Paddy said looking up from the middle of the pile of black lacquer kindling.

"A bed?" Aces said as he knelt beside him and picked up one of the
legs. "Pretty fancy bed, boss."

"Right after Loren's death, I telegraphed his attorney in San Francisco to head Mrs. Evers off and rescue Justin's mother's things Loren had in storage. He almost didn't make it. He shipped them to me on the next train headed through here."

"She sounds like a real pip," Wily said as he waded into the mess.

"That isn't the word I'd use for her."

"Well--" Hoss reached out his hand to Paddy. "Let's get you out of there so we can get to work."

Choate took the hand offered to him and found himself lifted bodily and placed aside.

"Are you trying to tell us we're in the way?" the young rancher said with a half-smile.

Hoss glanced up sharply, looking to his companions for aid.

"No, boss," Aces assured the two men with an enchanting smile. "We can use all the help we can get."

A half an hour later, Ellison and Choate were standing against the far wall where they were safely out of the way of the three whirlwinds working in the center of the room.

The ranchers marveled at the fluidity of movement of the three, how compatibly they worked together, each one seeming to instinctively know what the other wanted, what their next move would be. They never seemed to bump into each other (that wasn't the case for the two ranchers). After the third time Jim and Paddy had been knocked, bumped, banged and pushed out of the way, they had retreated from the fray.

Slowly, Justin's bed began to form.

"Okay, now move it a little to the left," Choate directed his hired hands and friend Ellison as they positioned the completed bed to the young rancher's liking. "A little more--There! Perfect! Muy bien."

All five men stood back to admire their work. The shining black lacquer seemed to glow in the sunlight. The headboard boasted intricate Chinese carvings of dragons and gardens all inlaid with reds and golds. Choate smiled, his mother would have loved this bed.

"That is the most beautiful bed I've ever seen," Aces breathed almost reverently as he ran his finger across the smooth finish. "I want to have a bed like this someday."

"What would you do with a bed like this, grizzled old cowpoke like you?" Wily scoffed.

"I could make fine babies," Aces said, not really listening to himself. When he did, he ducked his head in embarrassment.

Jim cleared his throat. "It's about time to get dressed for the party," he said. "You going to let the boy see it now or later?"

"I don't know--" Choate said reluctantly.

"Patrick, he'll burst!"

That caused the young man to laugh. "Into a million pieces. You're right."

The five made their way to the kitchen to find the birthday boy and his friend looking longingly at Justin's finished birthday cake on the large work table. The boys stole a quick glance at Chu Wa, who's puttering about the kitchen. With dual sighs of frustration, two little heads resumed resting between four fists, leaning on the table, anticipation and want clearly expressed on their faces.

"Has Chu Wa been keeping you two busy?"

"Baba!" Justin jumped from his position and bounded to his father, Blair right behind him. "Is it finished? Can I see it now?"

"Never mind that, hijito. You need to get up to your room and change before our other guests arrive."

"But, Baba--"

Choate pushed the boy from the room, lightly swatting his behind. "Move, imp."

"You, too, Little Bit," Jim said. "And change into your good clothes."

"My Sunday suit?" Blair sulkily asked.

"Yes."

"No, Papa, please. Can't I just wear what I have. I don't want to wear short pants."

"Baba!" Justin whined. "I'm twelve now! Do I have to wear short pants? Those are for little boys!"

"What do you mean, 'little'!" Blair countered.

Paddy looked to Jim for some kind of support. 'Good work clothes?' he mouthed.

Jim thought a moment, then nodded.

"Change into your good work clothes, then," Choate said.

"Really, Baba?"

"Can I, too, Papa?" Blair said hopefully.

"Son, I only packed the one set of clothes."

"He can borrow some of Justin's. They're about the same size," Choate offered.

"Thank you, Patrick. Go ahead, Blair."

"Thank you, Uncle Paddy!"

And the boys were up the stairs like a shot.

Five minutes later, the adults were still standing at the foot of the stairs, waiting for some kind of reaction from Justin.

Something was wrong! Paddy knew his son and presents, Justin should've been squealing or making some kind of noise. The young rancher bounded up the stairs and raced into his child's room.

Justin stood at the foot of the bed, Blair standing helplessly by his side watching his friend as silent tears coursed down his face.

"Querido," Paddy said softly. "Qué te pasa?"

"My bed, Baba," Justin whispered in a watery voice.

"Si, Querido, tu cama."

"I thought I'd never see it again." He looked up at his father. "You sent for it?"

"Si, querido."

"For me?"

"Si, hijito."

"Laolao said my mother sent all the way to China for this bed."

"And it's beautiful."

"Thank you, Baba." Justin threw his arms around his father's waist and squeezed hard.

Choate enveloped the small figure in a bear hug. "You are welcome, querido."

The young rancher turned towards the door and smiled sheepishly at the audience. A full house, everyone stood there. Chu Wa in front, nodding sagely, Jim, holding Blair on his hip - the boy all smiles himself now
that he knew his friend was all right - and the three new members of his household all together in a small cluster.

Choate noticed Ellison frown slightly and cock his head, a look of concentration on his face. A moment later, Blair put his hand on his father's cheek and the older man seemed to come out of his thoughts. Jim smiled over to Paddy.

"The Banks' will be here real soon, we need to get ready for them," the older rancher announced, setting Blair on the floor.

Wiley moved to the window and peered out. "I see a buggy and a rider coming down the road. They'll be here in about fifteen minutes."

That got everyone scrambling. When Simon Banks rode up to the house, alongside Darryl and Miss Rhonda in a rented buggy, there were seven neatly dressed and groomed people on the veranda to greet them.

Choate looked on with pride as his son beamed while their guests sang the birthday song to him. The boy then took a deep breath large enough to blow out all thirteen candles on his cake. He smiled affectionately when Justin dug into his piece of cake with gusto and wondered why this party had been so difficult for him to plan.

Thinking back to Justin's time in San Francisco, he realized he had been afraid the party would make the child remember what he had left behind. That the simple life they led out here on his ranch would pale when compared to what he had before.

He had been afraid of losing Justin, of going back to the emptiness of his life before the green-eyed imp had filled it. Justin had brought him laughter, love, happiness. . .life. At that moment, the object of his thoughts turned those very eyes upon him, cheeks bulging with cake, frosting smeared across his cheek and the child smiled at him. Suddenly, the rancher wondered what the fear had been all about.

'This is your home for as long as you want. . .'

'Forever, Paddy'

And Paddy smiled back.

The dishes cleared, it was time for presents. The birthday boy, thrilled by being the center of attention, picked up the package closest to him. It was soft leather rolled up and tied with twine. A simple slip of paper with "From Hoss" written on it was attached to the string. Justin unrolled the leather with an "Oooo." He held the chaps up to his waist.

"Thank you, Hoss!"

"You look like a real cowboy now, shorty," the big cowboy replied. "I cut them down from an old pair I had."

"They're wonderful," Justin said running his fingers through the fringe on the sides. "I really like them."

He opened a checker set from the Banks next, then a book of verses from Miss Rhonda, a bridle with braided reins from Wiley, and from Aces, leather cuffs to protect his arms.

Finally he came to the rather large, plain wrapped gift from the Ellisons. From the way both boys bounced in place, you couldn't tell who was more excited, Justin or Blair.

When the items under the paper were revealed, Justin sat speechless.

"What's the matter, Justin?" Blair asked after a minute. "Don't you like them? Papa asked for them when we were there at the Shoshoni camp. We went back yesterday to get them."

Justin ran his fingers almost reverently over the bead work that decorated the top of his new fur-lined moccasins. "They're so beautiful," he said in a hushed voice, as if speaking louder would shatter them.

Blair came closer still, frowning a bit, not happy with his friend's reaction. "See what they are? They're coyotes!" he said, pointing to the tiny beaded pictures, as if to draw Justin from his stupor.

"Those should keep your feet warm this winter, squirt," Jim said,
sharing a smile with Choate. "Underneath is a warm coat made from buffalo hide. Walks the River and Running Doe wanted you to have it." Jim barely had the words out before Justin lunged over and hugged his uncle tightly around the neck.

"Thank you so much, Uncle Jim. I love them," he whispered against the warmth of the big man's neck, fighting hard to keep from crying. Raising his face from his refuge, Justin caught sight of Blair beaming at them. He gave his friend a big smile and a wink, which Blair returned in kind.

The final present was from Chu Wa. Justin's chin quivered as he ran his hand reverently over the silk coverlet. It had a hand painted picture of a Chinese pagoda, complete with a garden in the middle framed by a patchwork quilting of various patterns of silk around the edge. Down padded the inside and cotton ticking backed the elegant spread.

"Mama painted that picture. She said it was a place she went when she was a child. These pieces around the edges--I remember the material from Mama's and Laolao's dresses," he choked out before embracing the teary-eyed ancient. "Thank you," Justin said in Chinese.

Clearing his throat in an attempt to get his own emotions under control, Choate announced, "Who would like to take a try at breaking the piñata?"

~~~

Jim blocked out all the shouts and laughter coming from around him to focus on the sound the piñata made as it gently swayed in the air. The large papier-mâchéd yellow ball, a representation of the sun as proclaimed by the 'artist' who made it (one Patrick Choate), swung from a rope in the entrance to the barn. Before each person took a swing the person at the other end of the rope would move the piñata, making it nearly impossible to hit. Everyone had a turn at doing both, except a reluctant Jim Ellison. With prodding from Blair and Justin, the older rancher allowed himself to be blindfolded and spun around. He centered himself quickly by homing in on his son's voice and the sound of the object swinging in front of him. Sure of his target's position, and before it could be moved, Jim struck hard with the stick in his hands. The dented sun, wounded from previous near misses by other participants, broke in half, spilling the prizes from inside to the ground for three excited children to collect.

Removing the blindfold, Jim walked over to Patrick, who had been the one holding the rope while he swung the stick. "That's quite a game."

"It was one of my favorites," Paddy said softly. "I don't know which I liked more, hitting the piñata with the stick, or the treats that fell out afterward."

A short time later, the Choates and the Ellisons waved goodbye to the Banks as they rode for home. Justin and Blair returned to their checker game as soon as the Sheriff and his family were through the gate.

Clapping the younger man on the shoulder, Jim said, "The boys will be occupied for hours with Justin's new presents. They have plenty of supervision. How about we go over to the pond by the orchard and I give you your first swimming lesson?"

"But we can't leave this mess for Chu Wa to clean up--"

"I will be fine for a while, Master Patrick," the elderly man said, appearing out of nowhere.

Choate threw the traitorous, tiny ancient a scalding look.

Jim laughed and grabbed the younger man's arm, pulling him towards thebarn. "Come on, amigo. It's time to get wet."

They rode Sentry and Dancer bareback to the pond.

"Okay, Patrick, strip down to your drawers and wade out to the deep water," Jim ordered as he divested himself of clothing. Down to his underwear before the younger man, Jim dove in and swam out to the deeper water. He treaded water, looking back at his friend and waited patiently for Patrick to wade out. "You can't learn how to swim standing on dry land, Patrick."

"I don't know, that water looks mighty cold."

"You going to let a little cold stop you?"

Choate stepped up to the edge and peered over. "And it looks mighty deep. See, even you can't stand up in it."

"Well, of course -- OW!" Jim hunched over and began floundering in the pool. "Patrick! I've got a cramp!" The older man sank under the surface before sputtering back to the top. "I can't--" He sank again and didn't quite surface.

A frantic Patrick looked for something to throw his friend. Finding nothing, he took a deep breath and jumped. It was almost a full minute before the two men surfaced. Jim had Patrick around the chest and again treaded water.

"Lesson one," the older rancher said to the gasping younger man. "Never jump in after someone if you don't know how to swim."

Big, chocolate-colored eyes regarded sky blue ones for a moment before the younger man launched into a string of Spanish words Ellison didn't have to know to understand. The older rancher stopped the onslaught by loosening his grip on his ranting friend. Choate shut his mouth instantly as he felt himself begin to sink. The arms were back encircling him a moment later, stopping his descent.

"Are you ready to listen and learn, or do you want to finish this tantrum under water?" Jim hissed sternly in the younger man's ear. "I love Justin dearly, Patrick, but I damn sure don't want to have to raise him because you were too damn full of pride to learn how to at least tread water!"

Jim took the other man's silence as concession. He took a cleansing breath to let his anger fade away and began again.

"All right. First start moving your legs around like I'm doing," Jim instructed as he maneuvered the skittish younger man around so they were facing each other, Patrick with a vice-like grip on Jim's forearms. "That's good, Patrick. Now let go of one of my arms and move your arm around like I'm doing." Reluctantly Choate did as instructed, surprised he hadn't sunk to the bottom yet. He slowly released Jim's other arm and smiled a huge grin as he realized he was treading water quite well by himself. "Excellent, Patrick!" Jim praised. Before too long, Jim had taught his friend the basic crawl, floating and even the back stroke. When their lips began to turn blue, Jim coaxed Patrick from the water.

Big brown eyes regarded his friend. "Can we stay in, just ten more minutes?"

The older man just shook his head in wonder.

After a few more laps, the two dried in the sun before getting dressed. They rode back to the house in companionable silence. After seeing to the horses the two ranchers headed over to the house to see what the boys were up to. Blair and Justin were well into another game of checkers.

"Blair, that's the last game then we need to be getting home ourselves." The elder Ellison's edict met with a whine from the younger, but after the game ended a short time later they made their own farewells.

Justin and Patrick stood on the veranda, Justin waving until the two riders were out of sight. His father squeezed his shoulder and motioned for the boy to follow him to the barn.

"What, Baba? Is something wrong with Dulce?"

"No, hijito."

"Then why are we going to the barn? It's not Percy, is it?"

Choate went to the back of the barn, Justin right behind him until he came to Percy's stall. The rancher took a handful of carrots from the barrel, gave two to the old bull and turned to the stall across the way to a beast Justin hadn't seen before.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Bought her while I was in Laramie. Her name is Carlotta and she's a Jersey milk cow." Choate gave the carrots in his hand to Justin and the boy promptly fed them to the butterscotch-colored cow in front of him.

Petting her nose, Justin said, "She's real nice. Why'd you buy her?"

"Percy gets kinda lonesome in here all by himself, and besides, if you want to grow up to be like those dime store heroes you and Blair are always talking about, you have to have more milk."

Big, round eyes stared back at the rancher. "You're going to milk her!"

"That's what she's for, chiquito."

Justin looked hard at the cow. "Where?"

"Where what?"

"Where does the milk come from?"

Paddy led Carlotta out of the stall so Justin could see better. He talked calmly to the animal, who stood quietly chewing her cud, and patted her flank as he moved to her side and squatted down. He motioned for Justin to do the same.

"The milk comes out of each teet here," the rancher said as he pointed to the cow's udders.

Justin reached out to touch one with a tentative finger.

Carlotta mooed and Justin jumped back, landing on his rump in the hay. Paddy nearly choked trying not to laugh.

"Are you all right, chiquito?" his father asked in a strangled voice.

Justin's eyes couldn't get much bigger. "Did I hurt her?"

"No. Your hands are probably cold." He lifted Justin from the ground and put his hands around the boy's. Paddy rubbed Justin's hands between his own until they were warmed. "Try again."

This time the cow didn't move a bit.

Paddy took hold of a teet and massaged it from top to bottom. A thin stream of milk streamed out. Justin tried to imitate his father. Concentrating hard, it took several tries before he shot a thin line across the barn into Percy's stall.

"Muy bien. You'll need to milk her every morning."

"What? Me?!! But, Baba, I have enough to do!"

"And now you have more," he said firmly. "I was your age when I was given Percy. You are old enough to care for this animal yourself."

Justin pouted. "Don't need milk that much!" he said, under his breath as Paddy led Carlotta back into her stall.

"I have just the thing for that pout, little boy. Don't you have a birthday spanking coming?"

"No, sir." The pout vanished instantly and Justin discreetly moved his hands to cover his backside. "See, it's all gone, Baba."

The soulful green eyes capturing his gaze melted the rancher's heart. "Well, maybe that's one tradition we can skip then. Don't you think?" Paddy closed the gate and stood in front of his son. "You have room enough for another piece of cake while I read your story tonight?"

Justin giggled. "With a glass of milk?"

Choate lunged at the boy who squealed in delight as his father tossed him over his shoulder and began tickling the narrow ribs.

The End

The stories the boys heard in the Shoshoni village were taken from the following books:

Coyote and the Fire Stick, by Barbara Diamond Goldin

Coyote &..., by Joe Hayes

Old Bag Of Bones, by Janet Stevens
~~~

end