Big thanks to Melanie for the quick read. You are the best!

OW:The Eyes of a Child
by Klair and BCW
July 7, 1998

***

Blair

Blair did his sums while he sat on the porch of the small log cabin he shared with his adopted father. This way he could watch Papa work with the horses at the same time. The spirited animals were ready to break to saddle.

Papa told him one day he'd be old enough to tame the unbroken animals, too. He just had to be patient. That was a lot to ask for. There was so much to know and to do. But Papa had said no, so that was that.

Blair remembered a time when a firm "no" would be the beginning of a tussle, not the end of one. Before Papa came, Blair had only to make a fuss and he would get his way. Now a hissy-fit would only get him sent to the corner, or worse, a spanking.

Not that he got his seat warmed very often. Blair could only remember a handful of times when Papa pulled him across his lap for a tanning. Most of those times he'd endangered himself, or someone else. That was one of Papa's biggest rules. For most other misbehavior he got a talking-to, extra chores and maybe a quick swat to his seat.

Afterwards, Papa always forgave him. They'd talk it over and then the slate would be wiped clean. He didn't mind the fussing, much. It was just one of the ways Papa showed how much he was cared for.

The man he called "Papa" was so different than the other men who'd been in his life when he traveled from town to town with his mama. Papa took the time to explain things, listen to his questions and help him find the answers. True, sometimes he had to write it in his question book to ask when Papa was done working, but eventually Papa would get to it. He never forgot, especially when Blair reminded him.

Papa made time to play with him, too. They'd go fishing or just horse around. Blair knew how hard the rancher worked. Many a day he saw him come home bone weary from the range, but it never stopped Papa from lifting him into the air and swinging him around in greeting. Usually he'd get a hug and a quick kiss on the forehead, too.

That was nice, but he liked it best when Papa took him along and showed him how the ranch worked. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He liked it best at night when Papa would let him sit in his lap for a snuggle and a good book. His papa was the best reader. He did voices for the characters and really tried to make the words come alive. Yep. Those were the best times.

The other people he and Mama lived with before, especially his "uncles", never made time for him the way Papa did. Rarely were they openly disapproving of him, either. It was more a tolerance of him for his mother's sake. They all wanted him to be seen, as little as possible, and not heard.

Well, except for 'Uncle' Paddy. He was like Papa. Blair thought the world of him, too. Maybe they could go over to the Choate ranch tomorrow so he could play with Justin. He'd ask. Papa rarely turned down his request to visit their neighbors. Papa thought it was important for Blair to play with other children and, since they lived so far from town, Justin was the closest boy around. The older boy and he had become friends pretty quickly. Blair counted him a best friend. They had some great adventures.

The love of adventure was something he got from his mama. They'd been heading west on an adventure when she died. That's when Papa found him, but he wasn't Papa, yet. Papa loved him even when the rancher was still just Jim. Well, he loved Papa when he was just Jim, too. It was funny how Jim became Papa at Christmas. As soon as Jim told him of the adoption, calling his guardian Papa just came to him naturally. Just like it was always supposed to be that way.

The sound of boots on the porch brought him out of his daydreams.

"Hey, Little Bit, what're you thinking about so hard?"

He shrugged. "Aw, nothing much."

Sometimes Justin missed the crowds, the buildings, although he could honestly say he didn't miss the smell.

Back in their little apartment in China Town, Laolao shared a common garden with the other tenants of the building. Although small and compact, it reflected their love and they tended it carefully.

Justin remembered the flowers she had grown there. They had been beautiful, but not like the flowers here. Where Laolao had had small clusters of delicate, flagrant blossoms, here there were fields. . .blankets of flowers. Like an ocean of colors that went on for as far as the eye could see, filling the very air with their perfume.

And the trees. Justin had never seen so many trees in his entire life. Paddy's orchard called to him, even now.

In San Francisco, he had attended a Chinese school with several other boys his age. None of them he could call a 'friend'. Here, Chu Wa and Paddy taught him from a lesson plan mapped out by the Cascade's school marm, and he had Blair for a friend.

Justin believed he had the best friend in the entire world. As different as they were, they'd found a common ground, both had lost their family, their home, and they kept each other from being lonely.

And Uncle Jim. He was glad they lived close enough to visit. Paddy needed a friend, too. Justin smiled. He liked the big rancher, a lot. And so did his guardian. The Ellison's were like an 'extended family'.

Then his smile faded as he thought of his mother. He barely remembered her, but still missed her, recalling her voice sometimes in the night, and the gentleness of her touch.

He missed his grandmother, also.

His father. Justin sighed. He had to think hard to call up his father's face. He mostly remembered him as a figure whose presence in his mother's house meant he had to go someplace else until he left. Even after his mother's death, the man was a rare occurrence in his life.

Then came Paddy.

Justin rolled over on his stomach and crept over to the edge of the hayloft. He peaked down at his guardian below. The large man was cleaning his 'dress' saddle. The one his grandfather had given him. Justin loved that saddle. He would often come out to the barn just to touch it. It was magnificent, silver inlays, fine workings. Paddy always kept it shining bright, polished smooth.

The rancher's hat rested on a nearby hay bale. Broad brimmed for protection against the sun, the crown decorated with the band Justin had made for him for his birthday. Paddy never took it off the hat. Never. He promised he wouldn't. And Paddy always kept his promises. Always.

He had promised Justin his own horse when he learned to ride better. Justin wanted one as fine as the one Paddy rode, but he had told him a horse like Dancer would be too big for him to handle right now. Justin had pouted until Paddy swatted him hard on his bottom for it. That made the pout go away. Quick!

Paddy'd only spanked him twice so far and only swatted his rear a handful of times, something his father, mother and grandmother had never done. Not in all the time he'd been with them. But Paddy did. And Justin thought he'd hate him for it, but he didn't. The big rancher angry was an awesome sight to behold. And young Evers didn't go out of his way to see it, either. But afterward, well, after his time in the corner, Paddy would hold him, hug him, read to him or they'd talk, and Justin would feel special. . .loved.

That thought caused the boy to sit up straight. Paddy loved him? Paddy, who had only agreed to take him to save his ranch, love him? A stranger who showed him more care and understanding than his own father had, love him? How was it possible? When did it happen? And did Justin feel the same?

Watching the big man as he bent to his task, Justin had to admit, yes, he did. And, although he missed his life in San Francisco, he had another life here, with this man.

Justin squeaked in surprise as Paddy suddenly turned and looked up at the loft. He scrabbled back into the darkness, hoping he didn't see him. This was where he sat to think, to spy on his guardian as he worked, to spin dreams in his head and plan. This place was his secret.

When he chanced to look over the edge again, Paddy was gone. Justin breathed a sigh of relief and lay back down on the straw.

Pretty soon they'd call him to supper.

Maybe tonight Paddy would let him sit on his lap in the big chair in his study while he read to him. Justin would rest his head on the broad chest and listen to his guardian's voice rumble as he said the words. That sound was more important to the little boy than the story would ever be. That sound was the last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep.

That sound was the most important thing in his world.

"¡Chiquito, vienes come! ¡Ahora!"

Justin smiled, as he scrambled down from the hayloft. "Coming, Paddy!"

Ahhh! That sound!