Warning: There be angst ahead! At least by our standards. This is not our usual smarmy fare. Neither are the sequels to this. You've been warned.

And our most heartfelt and warmest thanks and appreciation to the divine Ms. M! Melanie has gone above and beyond the call of a beta on this one, folks. She cracks the whip even now as we speak!

~~~

Reminders
by Klair and BCW
August 7, 1998

~~~

Together, the two boys unsaddled and rubbed down Ceylon before releasing her into the corral. They hung on the fence watching the spirited little horse prance around the enclosure.

"She's terrific, Blair," Justin said, longingly. "Thanks for letting me ride her."

"You're my best friend, Justin. You can any time."

"Well, she sure is fast." The excited boy made a zooming motion with his hand and turned from the corral as he said, "We were going like the wind..."

Justin's words faded on the breeze when he caught sight of his guardian standing within hearing distance behind him. The man's eyes were as hard as diamonds. His face harsh as granite.

Blair tried to intervene. "Uncle Paddy, we--"

"I told you no more than a trot," the tight words were directed at the
younger boy.

"Yes, sir, but --"

"But what? What I tell you means nothing?"

"No, sir. I--"

"You don't care about what I say? About how I feel?"

"No, Uncle Paddy, I--"

"You are disrespectful to me in my own home!"

Blair's eyes widened in horror. "No, sir!"

"Then what? I asked you not to run the horse, Blair. Didn't I?" he asked, his voice tight with barely controlled anger.

Tear began to gather in his eyes. "Yes, sir--"

"And you promised you wouldn't. Didn't you?"

Bottom lip quivering, Blair whispered, "Yes, sir--"

"But you did it anyway!

The distraught boy sobbed, "I know, Uncle Paddy, I just forgot."

"Maybe if you and Justin don't play together for awhile, it will help you to remember."

"No, Uncle Paddy."/ "No, Paddy! No!" The boys wailed together.

"You get on up to the house, Blair. I don't want to see you right now."

Tears spilling down his cheeks, it was all Blair could do to squeak out, "I'm sorry," before fleeing to the barn, his uncle's harsh words ringing in his ears. He spotted his father coming from the other end of the barn, his face the picture of concern.

"Little Bit, what's the matter?" the big man asked, hugging Blair tightly to his chest where the boy had flung himself.

"Uncle Paddy hates me," he sobbed.

"What?" Jim gently pried the upset boy away so they could talk. He squeezed the boy's shoulder gently. "Blair, calm down and tell me what happened."

"We went riding--"

"You and Justin? Alone?"

"Yeah, and we were only having fun. We wanted to fly so I got Ceylon into a gallop on that flat stretch we race on sometimes. Uncle Paddy found out and. . . and. . .he yelled at me really bad." Blair's face fell in despair at the end of his tale.

Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 'Little Bit,' he thought. 'What have you done?' "I don't blame him," he said firmly. "A few weeks ago, he told you in no uncertain terms to go no faster than a trot when Justin rides with you."

"But--"

More firmly he said, "No buts. You disobeyed."

"I'm sorry, Papa. I just didn't remember!" Blair shifted from foot to foot, despondent at not finding the comfort he went to his father for. Everybody was angry with him!

"Then you need a stronger reminder," Jim said sternly as he bared his son's bottom, put a foot up on a nearby hay bale, and hauled Blair over his thigh.

Half a dozen spanks later, Jim set the sobbing boy back on his feet and adjusted his clothes. "Here," Jim said, offering his crying son a handkerchief, "wipe your eyes and blow your nose. You have an apology to make."

Blair did as he was told, only to have new tears take the place of those he wiped away. Papa took his hand and led him out to the yard while he instinctively rubbed his smarting seat.

When they returned to the place where Blair had left Justin and his guardian, they found Paddy had just taken his foot from the corral's bottom rail and placed Justin back on his feet. The child stood there, his pants and underwear pooling down around his ankles, crying piteously. Justin's bottom was a fiery shade of red.

Seeing the look on Uncle Paddy's face, Blair wanted to sink into the ground, or at least hide behind his father. Before he could maneuver himself behind the big rancher, the hand holding his pulled him slightly forward and let go.

His father said, flatly, "I believe you have something to say, son."

Blair couldn't bring himself to look directly into his beloved 'uncle's' eyes. His gaze made it as far as the man's neck, and he sobbed out, still rubbing his bottom, "I'm very sorry, Uncle Paddy. It will never happen again. Please don't hate me. Please let Justin and me still be friends." He wanted to say lots more, but he was crying too hard to get any more words out.

"Go to our room until I call you for supper, Blair." His father's words released him from the torture of his shame. He turned slowly and started walking towards the house.

"You go with him, Justin," Choate ordered firmly. "And I don't want to see you until I call you."

The child leaned down to pull his clothes back into order and followed his
friend.

~~~

The older rancher watched as the two forlorn figures made their way into the house before turning back to the younger man.

"You talk to me," he demanded.

"Stay out of this, Ellison," the younger rancher spat out as he made to turn away.

Jim'd had all he would take. He was determined to get to the bottom of this if he had to pound his young friend into a greasy spot to do it. He reached out and roughly grabbed Choate's upper arm as he turned, giving it a hard shake. He growled out, "I can't stay out of it, since I'm already involved."

Choate pulled at his arm, but his friend refused to release him. "You saying Blair wasn't wrong?"

"No, I'm not saying that at all. And this isn't just about Blair--"

"Then, you're upset because I yelled at him? You think I should've waited for you--"

What little patience the older man had vanished. He snapped, "Stop putting words into my mouth, man. What I'm asking is what's going on?"

"You think I'm overreacting," Paddy asked, as he pulled at his arm again.

"Yes."

After the third tug, Choate succeeded in freeing his arm from Ellison's numbingly tight grip. He began to gesture wildly as he ranted. "Justin could've been killed! Por Dios, they both could've been killed!"

Taking a calming breath, Jim wiped his face with his hand before he spoke. "Choate, they're little boys. You can't wrap them in cotton and hide them away."

"I have a right to protect him from danger--"

"You also have the responsibility to teach him how to take care of himself." Jim's face gentled. "You can't protect him from everything, Patrick."

The younger man stilled, tension still radiating from him in waves. He said tightly, "I can keep him from breaking his neck in a fall."

"No," Jim said, gently, "you can't." He touched the younger man's arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "But you can see that he can handle a horse to the best of his ability. Hell, man, he can fall off and break his neck at a trot, too. He can fall down the stairs for that matter. He could--"

Choate snatched away.

"Tell me what's eating at you, Patrick, before you damage things beyond repair," Jim said as Choate turned his back.

"Leave me alone, Ellison! I didn't ask for your help! I don't want your help! You can go to blazes!"

Jim stood with barely controlled rage watching the young rancher stalk away. It took all his self control not to go after the angry young man and pound some sense into his thick skull. Damn him! Couldn't he see what he was doing? Damned, pride-filled, stubborn young fool.

Jim's hearing automatically honed in on the forlorn sound of his son whimpering and Justin crying his heart out. He put his anger at his young friend away for later, right now he had a two children to console.

~~~

Opening their door, he saw Blair stretched out on the bed in a fitful sleep so he decided to tiptoe down the hall and slip into his 'nephew's bedroom to talk to Justin first.

The child lay curled in a tight ball around his pillow, weeping into it uncontrollably.

Jim sat on the bed next to him. "Squirt?" he said, gently laying a hand on the child's shoulder.

"Are you sore at me, too, Uncle Jim?" he asked in between great sobs.

"No, Justin, a little disappointed, maybe."

"I guess I'm a disappointment to a lot of people," the child whispered sadly.

"What? No." He gently turning the boy to face him. "Come here, son."

"I'm not your son. I'm not anyone's son. Not anymore."

Jim pulled the child up so he could look into his face. Old eyes stared back at him. Tear filled eyes that had a look out of place on a child's face.

"I'm not disappointed in you, squirt." Jim emphasized his point with a tiny shake. "I'm disappointed in what you did. You disobeyed one of Patrick's rules. Rules he takes very seriously."

"Stupid rules."

"Not to him," Jim calmly told the sulking child.

"He won't let me do anything, Uncle Jim."

"That's not true, Justin," he lightly admonished. "And you know it."

"It's not fair! You let Blair ride alone."

"He's been riding longer than you have. And, at first, I didn't let him ride alone, either." Jim chucked him under the chin. "It didn't help your cause any that the first time you rode alone you broke two rules."

The emerald-colored eyes began to glisten brighter. "I'm sorry, Uncle Jim."

The rancher smiled. "I know, squirt," he said taking the child up in a hug. "It's going to be all right."

Somehow, he vowed silently to himself.
~~~

Blair came out of his sleep when he felt himself being handled.

After walking to the house, he threw himself on the bed he shared with his father when they visited and cried himself to sleep. He thought the two men who he admired, and loved above all others, hated him. By the time Blair came fully awake, he was sitting in Papa's lap as the big man leaned against the bed's headboard. He felt safe and loved, until the events of the day were remembered. Tears leaked again from his eyes and he hid his face in the folds of Papa's soft shirt.

"Hush now, child. It's going to be all right. What are you carrying on about?"

"You and Uncle Paddy hate me."

"Now where did you get a foolish notion like that?"

"He was so angry. . .and you sided with him."

"Sided? Little Bit, I'm not 'siding' with anyone. I heard the facts, I assume you were telling the truth, and made my decision accordingly. If we were home, the results would be the same."

"You said you agreed with him and then you spanked me. Mama. . ." He stopped, lapsing into a sulk.

"Mama what, son?"

"Mama would've stood up for me and blessed Uncle Paddy out good."

"And then what?"

"And then. . .then she would say we were leaving to go on another adventure."

"Is that what you want me to do?" Jim asked calmly, although he felt anything but. "Go downstairs, tell Choate off, and say we're no longer friends because he chewed you out for disobeying his rules?"

"No, Papa. Don't do that," Blair pleaded, "I. . .I love Uncle Paddy. He's not like the others. Justin's my bestest friend ever. But Uncle Paddy doesn't like me anymore because he thinks I tried to hurt Justin, but I didn't! Justin rides pretty good. It's a stupid rule."

Petting his son's head soothingly, he said, "That's not for me or you to say. It's Choate's responsibility to raise Justin the way he sees fit, just like it's mine to raise you. We have different ways of looking at some things, but I respect him. He's a good man. And if he doesn't want Justin riding faster than a trot then that's the way it'll be, just like I expect him to respect my decisions about how I raise you. Do you understand that?"

"Sort of. . .Papa?"

"Yes, Little Bit."

Whisper soft, the boy asked, "Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"

"Of course he will. Just be more mindful of what he tells you. When we're at The Chelsea, we follow their house rules. Got it?"

"Got it. I'm sorry, Papa. Do you forgive me?"

"Yes, Little Bit. I know you didn't mean any harm. Although, you need to learn to think about the results of your actions, seeing past the fun. It'll save you a world of hurt in the long run. "

"Yes, sir. I'll really try to do better."

"That's my boy." Jim ruffled the unruly curls. "Now, you need to wash up. Supper's almost ready."

"I'm not hungry. I'll just stay here."

"He won't bite you." The rancher chucked the child under the chin.

"I'm not so sure. He. . .he won't bless me out again?"

"No, Little Bit. He was very scared for Justin's safety. Wash up. I don't want to keep them waiting."

Jim left Blair to get ready and check on Justin. As he passed Justin's room, he frowned at hearing a string of soothing Chinese coming from within instead of the Spanish he expected. He'd give Choate until supper to make things right. If the younger man still remained a stubborn mule, he'd rue the day he messed with the people Jim Ellison cared about. Including one Patrick Choate. Damned, pig-head, young fool!

~~~

Dinner was a tense and horrible affair, with both boys fidgeting in their chairs and picking over the food on their plates. Their eyes remained downcast throughout the entire meal.

Finally, Jim couldn't stand it any longer.

"Are both you boys finished?"

Two pair of the saddest eyes he'd ever seen looked up at him.

"Yes, sir," they said.

He gave them a small smile. "Then you're excused."

They both stood up from the table and left the room without even asking about dessert.

That took care of the little boys, now Jim was left to deal with the big one. He looked over at this morose companion, watching him smash peas with his fork. "Patrick Choate, I've had enough of this tantrum of yours," Jim said slowly.

The younger man looked up. "What?"

"Your sulking's making both the boys miserable. Not to mention yourself. Can't say I'm too happy with it, either. Enough already."

Choate frowned.

Jim glared back and said in a most no-nonsense tone that he hadn't used since his captain days in the army, "This snit you're in is hurting the boys. And if you don't pull yourself together soon, I'm going to pound some sense into that thick Spanish head of yours. You'll be just a stain on the ground when I'm through with you. Don't make the mistake thinking I won't."

Paddy's dark brown eyes went wide at his friend's tone. "Excuse me?"

"My son's spent the better part of the afternoon crying his eyes out because he thinks you hate him."

"What?"

"Justin probably thinks the same thing, considering how hard he was bawling."

"You're being ridiculous!"

"Am I?" Jim leaned forward, into the younger man's space. "You've spanked Justin how many times?"

"What does that have to--"

"How many?" he asked again in a no-nonsense tone.

"I don't know, three."

"What was different about this time?"

"Different? I don't know. We were outside. It was harder. Maybe I spanked him a little long--"

In a voice colder than ice, Jim snapped, "It wasn't something that you did, Patrick. It was something that you didn't do."

"You've lost me, Ellison."

Exasperated, Jim sat back in his chair, hard. "Those other times, after you punished the boy, what did you do?"

The younger man frowned, shaking his head.

Jim couldn't stand the denseness any longer. With lightning speed he reached over and whapped the clueless young man hard on the back of his head. Cutting off the icy glare Choate gave him with a murderous one of his own, Jim hissed, "You forgave him, Choate. You held him in your arms, told him everything would be all right. . .you reaffirmed he was still very much loved, despite what he'd done."

Jim waited until he saw comprehension dawn on the young man's face before continuing.

"You have blown this badly. I don't know what old bone you're chewing, but stop taking it out on the children. They deserve better."

~~~

Paddy knocked softly on the door before opening it. Inside, he saw Blair curled in the center of the bed.

"Hey, Blair. Mind if I come in?"

Blair shook his head and the big rancher slipped into the room.

"Can I sit down?"

Blair nodded.

They were quiet a long time.

"Uncle Paddy, I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me! I didn't mean to be naughty! If you're still mad, you can spank me, too. Anything, just, please don't hate me."

Choate was overcome with shame at the child's impassioned plea. "Blair, I don't hate you."

"Yes, you do. You said you weren't going to let me and Justin be friends anymore! You said you weren't going to let me come over anymore. And you got so angry. You've never blessed me out like that before." The child started to cry again.

"I said that? I wouldn't--" Then Choate realized, no matter what he had said, this was what the child had heard. "Oh, Blair." he reached over and took the child into his lap. "I'm the one who's sorry. Please forgive me."

The small arms went as far as they could around the man who held him, as he buried his face in the rancher's chest and cried.

"Oh, poppet," Paddy choked on tears himself as he hugged him into a fierce embrace. "Don't cry. It's going to be all right."

"I didn't mean--"

"Shhh. I know you didn't." He smoothed the child's hair. "And I didn't mean to fly off the handle like that. I was afraid and angry, and I wasn't thinking clearly."

They sat like that for a long time, until the child's sobbing started to quiet.

"Blair. Can I tell you a story?"

"But it's not bedtime."

Paddy moved until he could rest his back against the headboard and settle the child in his arms more comfortably. "Well, this isn't that type of story."

"Oh." Blair paused, then went on sagely. "This's a 'learning' story."

The big rancher laughed, then pressed a quick kiss to the child's forehead.

Blair beamed up at him. It was the first time his 'uncle' had ever shown him affection like that before.

"Yes, poppet. This is a 'learning' story. For both of us."

~~~

About an hour later, Paddy slowly opened Justin's bedroom door expecting to find the child asleep. He was surprised.

"Chiquito," he said cautiously, "what are you doing?"

Justin looked up. "Packing."

The child's guardian approached him carefully. "Why?"

"Cuz you're sending me away." The boy clutched the shirt he held tightly to his chest.

"I am? Why?"

"Cuz you hate me," his ward whispered sadly.

Choate sat at the foot of Justin's bed. "No, I don't."

Looking up, the child's eyes blazed for a moment. "Yes, you do," he said fiercely.

"Justin--" Choate stopped. This was the second time he'd heard that declaration in one night. Ellison had been right. He had blown it. "Justin, come here."

The child hesitated, watching him apprehensively.

Paddy never wanted to see that look on his charge's face again. "Por favor, hijito," he said softly, opening his arms.

The little boy sobbed once and dropped the shirt he held. Flying into his guardian's arms, he wrapped his thin arms tightly around the strong neck. "Paddy," he whimpered, then dissolved into tears.

Paddy carried the weeping child to the rocking chair by the window. "I know, chiquito," the big man soothed as he sat down and settled the child in his lap. "I am so sorry." He rubbed soothing circles on the small back as it trembled with the force of the child's misery. "I'm not sending you away. This is your home, Justin. For as long as you want it."

"Forever, Paddy," came the tearful mumble.

The big man chuckled. "Forever, then."

And they held each other in a tight embrace, until all their tears were spent.

"Justin, you know my father died?"

The dark head under his chin moved up and down.

"Do you know how he died?"

This time it moved from side to side.

Paddy took a deep breath. "Sir Oliver Choate fancied himself a good horseman, but he really wasn't. Oh, he could get from one place to another without falling off, but my grandfather," he sighed, "my grandfather was the horseman." He absently stroked the dark hair as he rocked slowly back and forth. "After my mother died my father was overcome with grief and couldn't take care of me, so I went to live with my grandfather for a while." He smiled as Justin wiggled, trying to find a comfortable spot on the rock hard lap for his sore bottom. "My grandfather was a very impressive man. He lived in a big ranchero at the foot of the Santa Ana Mountains. I liked it. So much, in fact, that I didn't want to come home when my father finally sent for me."

"Was your father angry?"

"Yes."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing at first. But, after a while, he decided to come get me. Make me go back with him."

"Did he?"

"No. He never got there. The ranch hands said he rode out like the hounds of hell were after him. Later that day, his horse came home without him."
He paused, lost in a memory.

"What happened, Paddy?" Justin asked timidly.

"He was going too fast. The horse must've stumbled, or he lost control of him. We found him at the bottom of a canyon."

"That's why you don't want me to ride?"

"That's why I don't want you to ride fast." He hugged the child again. "I don't want to lose you." He kissed the child's forehead. "I love you so much, chiquito."

Justin leaned back, watching his guardian.

The surprised expression on Justin's face hurt Choate deeply.

"You do?" The child asked, as if not believing what he'd heard. "Even after what I did?"

"Remember what I said after the fireworks fiasco?" Choate tapped the end of the confused boy's nose with his finger. "Even when you're naughty."

The big man grunted at the impact of the child throwing himself back in his arms.

"I love you, too, Paddy," he whispered into the big man's chest.

"Even when I'm naughty?" the rancher teased.

Justin squeezed him around the middle so tightly it made it hard to breathe. "Forever."

He parroted the boy's soft reply while enfolding the small frame within them and went back to rocking slowly, soothing them both. "Forever."

~~~

Jim rocked slowly, too, on Choate's veranda, unconsciously matching the rhythm coming from above, as he used his enhanced hearing to listen in on the younger man's conversations with their boys.

He smiled a small, sad smile thinking what the admissions he was making to the two small boys cost him. Ellison remembered when Sir Choate had died. It had happened not too far from his place. He shook his head. What a load the young rancher carried with him and no wonder he worked like a dog to make this ranch a success.

He heard Choate finally descending the stairs and gave his own nose a final blow. When the young man stepped out onto the porch to join him, Jim could clearly see in the twilight the red-rimmed eyes. Ellison felt protective of the younger man, as if he were family. Like. . .a brother. Still, he decided to let Patrick make the first move.

'Serves him right to squirm a little more,' Jim thought. 'Tell me to go to blazes, will he?'
~~~

Paddy stood just outside the doorway for several moments, wondering just how to approach the older man. He knew Jim had heard him come out, but he remained in the chair, rocking slowly, watching something unseen on the horizon.

This was harder than it had been with the boys. Children were always forgiving, even of your worst sin. Adults, well, adults were another story.

He drew a deep breath. "Jim?"

"Boys asleep?" Jim asked quietly.

The younger man came closer. "I told them both a story."

"They've had a pretty big day."

Paddy sat on the small swing in the corner. "I didn't help much. Did I?"

Jim couldn't help but chuckle softly, his young friend's understatement striking him funny. He spared a glance at the small swing. Choate looked as forlorn as the boys had earlier. "No. You didn't. Did they like the story?"

Choate had wanted honesty, not quite that much, though. The comment stung, but he guess he deserved it.

"I can tell it to you, if you like."

Jim chuckled again. "It's been a long time since someone told me a story."

He listen patiently as he heard the tale of Sir Choate's death for the third time. Even after three repetitions, the young man's voice tightened. When the story ended, he whispered gently to his young friend, "It's not your fault."

Jim could sense that the young man wanted to argue the point.

"You need to let it go," he said, cutting off the argument.

Choate was quiet for so long, Jim started to speak again, then he heard him sob.

It broke the older man's heart. He got up and repositioned himself next to the quietly weeping man. When he put a hand on Choate's shoulder, a firm squeeze in the way of comfort, the young man stiffened, but Jim persisted. His friend needed his strength and he wanted to know he was there for him.

"It's okay to weep for him, Patrick," he began in the soothing tone he used with skiddish new colts. "Your father was a good man. He spoke of you with pride. Let it out or it's only going to eat you up."

"Men don't cry."

"That's a crock, Patrick. Many a man cried for a fallen comrade during the war. I was one of them. He was your father."

"I loved him."

Jim patted the young man's shoulder.

"And he wasn't an easy man to love," the younger man confessed in a guilty whisper. "Sometimes it's difficult for fathers and sons."

"It can be. My father was a hard man as well. We rarely saw eye to eye. He had my life planned out for me. When I didn't follow what he dictated, he disowned me. I was a traitor, a disgrace to his name. For a long time, I wallowed in the hurt that caused. Shut myself off."

"What changed?"

A broad grin came to Jim's face thinking of the answer. "Blair. Having that boy to raise made me see things differently. It helped me to forgive my father for being so hard on me. I know he loved me in his own way. My greatest wish for my son is that he grow up to be a responsible, happy, honorable man, and know how proud I am of him, even if he's just a ditch digger. I never want him afraid to tell me how he feels, or be unsure of his place in my heart. Like you and Justin."

"But he's not mine."

This statement took Jim aback. "Patrick, I say this to you as a friend. You're a good man, but you are the biggest damn fool I've seen in a long while. 'He's not mine." Jim snorted in disbelief. "In a pig's eye! Tell me, Patrick, if he’s not yours why isn't he demanding to go to his father right now? Why does he want to stay here with you 'forever'? And why does it make you so happy that he will? You can’t see the forest for the trees, man. Stop lying to yourself. He's your 'hijito', little son." Seeing the surprise in the younger man's eyes, he smiled devilishly. "Yes, I know what it means." Giving the man's shoulder another squeeze, hoping to drive the message in any way he could, Jim concluded his argument. "Children belong to the people who love them, Patrick. He's yours by right. Blood be damned."

Paddy stared at his friend while he replayed all Justin had said to him earlier. Jim was right. The boy hadn't demanded to be sent back to his father. And, from the look of dejection on his face as he packed, he didn't want to go back. This was his home.

"Papa?"

Both men looked up. Blair's small form was outlined in the doorway, shadowed by the slightly larger presence behind him.

"What's the matter, Little Bit? Bad dream?"

"No, Papa." He hesitated as if unsure how to go on.

"We're hungry," Justin piped up.

Jim and Paddy looked at each other a moment before dissolving into laughter.

"Well, come on then," Jim said as he swept Blair up into his arms, blowing an especially noisy raspberry against the child's cheek and both laughed in delight.

Paddy tossed Justin over his shoulder, tickling his ribs, making him giggle as he laughed right along with him. "Let's see what Chu Wa left in the icebox."

Things were going to be all right.

~~~

The end, for now.