All That Glitters

by Cochise1936

While playing alone in the yard, Little Joe is forced to learn a life lesson the hard way.

It was a bright, clear morning on the Ponderosa. Ben Cartwright took a deep breath of the pine-scented air surrounding the land that was his home. As he contemplated the work that he would be doing that day, he heard the heavy front door open and close. He turned and saw his middle son, Hoss, walking towards him. "Well, good morning, son."

Hoss came to stand next to his father. "Mornin', Pa. Whatcha doin'?"

"Just thinking about the work that needs done today."

"I kin help ya, Pa. It's summer break now, so I kin do a lot more!"

"Thank you Hoss, I appreciate it." Ben smiled at his large son. He knew how much the boy loved to work with the animals and the land, and how he struggled with schoolwork, despite his best efforts. Book learning just didn't come easy to him, but he could work hard when it really counted. "Speaking of helping, are all of your chores done?", he questioned.

"That what I came out here fer, Pa. I gotta hurry though, cuz Hop Sing's almost done makin' breakfast!" And with that, he hurried into the barn to complete his morning chores.

Ben smiled to himself; one of the most important things in Hoss's day was mealtime. Although he had to admit that he understood, because Hop Sing was a very talented cook. He turned towards the house and began walking. Hoss was right about breakfast, Ben thought as the smell of bacon and eggs permeated the house. When he reached the table, Hop Sing was placing serving dishes of toast, eggs, ham, and pot of coffee on it.

"Hop Sing, this looks delicious", Ben said appreciatively. "I don't know how you do it."

The cook smiled back at him. "As long as Cartwrights eat, Hop Sing keep cooking!", he said happily, as he set the last platter on the table.

As Ben surveyed the room, he realized that something, or rather, someone, was missing. He sighed, quickly coming to the conclusion that Little Joe was still in bed. Usually it was Hoss's job to wake his little brother, but since he was out doing his chores, the task had fallen to Ben.

He started up the steps warily, knowing that his youngest was, more often than not, a very cranky boy in the morning. He loved to sleep late, and now that school was out for the summer, he took full advantage. But Little Joe hated to be woken up, preferring instead to get up when he felt like it. He had always done things in his own time, much to the consternation of his family.

When he reached Joe's bedroom door, he knocked lightly, and getting no answer, pushed it open. Ben looked at the mound of blankets on the bed and smiled. Joe was curled up into a tiny ball under the covers, one arm wrapped around his stuffed bear, whom he claimed he didn't sleep with anymore.

Ben walked up to the bed and perched on the edge of it. Reaching his hand towards Joe's shoulder, he shook him gently. "Joseph, it's time to get up now. Come on, boy." Getting no response from the child, he shook a bit harder. Little Joe groaned and tried to roll away from his father's hand. "Oh no you don't, young man!", Ben exclaimed. "Come on Joe, wake up!"

Little Joe opened one bleary eye. "Pa? Lemme alone, I wanna sleep...", the boy murmured.

Shaking his head, Ben put his hands on both of Joe's small shoulders and pulled him upright. The boy opened both eyes and immediately began complaining. "Pa, why'd ya do that? I was sleepin'!"

Chuckling, Ben answered. "I know you were sleeping, Little Joe, that's why I woke you up. Breakfast is almost ready and Hoss has already done his chores."

Little Joe let out a huge yawn and snuggled against his father's broad chest. "Oh no, you are not going back to sleep!", he remonstrated the boy. "You are going to get up and eat breakfast."

Defeated, Joe sat up grumpily and began to kick off the covers. Seeing the pout on his son's face, Ben rose from the bed and watched with an amused smile, as Joe begrudgingly slid from the mattress and pulled the chamber pot out from underneath his bed. He scowled when he realized that his father was still in the room. "You can go away now, Pa. I'm up", he said in a cranky voice. Ben raised an eyebrow. "Just because you are feeling grumpy does not give you an excuse to speak to me like that, young man", he said sternly.

Joe lowered his head. "Sorry Pa, I didn't mean ta be disrespeckful", he said contritely. "Guess I'm just tired."

Overlooking Joe's poor grammar, Ben nodded his acceptance and turned his back. As he opened the door, he said, "I want to see you at the breakfast table in five minutes, Little Joe. Hurry and get dressed, now."

"Yes sir", Joe called from within the room.

When the door shut, Little Joe quickly made use of the chamber pot and pulled his clothes out of his dresser. He picked out a light blue shirt and a pair of gray pants. He searched through his drawers for his suspenders, since his father had yet to find him a belt small enough to fit around his skinny waist.

Clothes on, Little Joe tugged on his socks and boots, although in his haste, he had buttoned his shirt rather crookedly, and one of his suspenders was hopelessly twisted. He ran his comb through his hair before flinging the door open and clattering downstairs.

The rest of his family was already seated at the table when Joe plopped into his chair. Ben took one look at his son's haphazard clothing and sighed. "Joe, come here son."

Coming to stand next to his chair, Joe looked up at him with his expressive hazel eyes. "What's the matter, Pa?"

"Well, for starters, your shirt is buttoned all wrong, your suspender is twisted, and your boots are on the wrong feet!"

"Huh?" Joe looked down at his feet and giggled. His toes looked as if they were facing the wrong way, and now that Pa had pointed it out, they did feel funny. "Sorry Pa, I didn't even notice my boots!", he laughed as Ben buttoned his shirt properly and untwisted his suspender.

"There you are, son, now why don't you get those boots switched so you can eat?"

"Yes sir", said Joe, still giggling at his own silliness.

As the platters were passed around the table, Ben began explaining to Hoss what work needed to be done as his middle son shoveled food into his face.

Joe, on the other hand, wasn't much of an eater, and was amusing himself "building" things with his scrambled eggs. He had a decent sized castle built when he heard Ben clear his throat loudly. "Joseph, why aren't you eating your food?"

Joe looked from his Pa to his egg castle and blushed. "Um, I'm uh, well, I'm not really hungry Pa", he stuttered. He never ate enough to please his father, who told Joe that he would never grow if he didn't eat. The threat didn't seem to worry the boy much, he still ate the bare minimum and had plenty of energy.

"Well, if you're not going to eat, then I suggest you get outside and start on your chores", Ben said. "And no more playing with your food, little boy."

"Yes sir, I mean, no sir", Little Joe answered. He slipped down from his chair and raced out the front door, slamming it loudly behind him.

"That boy", Ben muttered. "Where did I get such an impulsive child?"

"Pa, I reckon he gits it from you an' Marie, she was impulsive, weren't she?", Hoss said. "An' you, sometimes yer the same way."

Ben's eyes misted over at the thought of his late wife Marie. She had brought so much joy into the household, and Ben couldn't remember ever being happier, save for the time that he spent with Adam and Hoss's mothers before they had died.

Joe was so much like his mother, from his cherubic face and expressive eyes, to his exuberant personality. He had been inconsolable after her death, and Ben hadn't been much better. The little boy had his brothers to care for and comfort him, but his father had no one who could help him in that way. So he had left, left his boys when they needed him most, in order to find the peace that he thought his sons wouldn't be capable of giving him. It wasn't until one dreary morning, as he stumbled from the stable where he had been sleeping off the whiskey from the night before, that he realized how much he missed his sons.

Coming out of the hotel across the street was a young couple, and holding their hands was a little boy and girl about Joe's age. The parents were laughing at something the children said, and Ben felt tears prick his eyes when he had the sudden thought that his boys were missing this. They were missing out on that family togetherness only a parent could provide. Of course, Adam was taking good care of his brothers, but he too, was still just a boy. Ben decided that morning that he had to return home and re-enter into his normal life. It would be hard, but it had to be done.

Now, two years later, although the pain of losing Marie was still there, his love for his sons was stronger than the grief. He had begun working the ranch again, and had stopped consuming whiskey every night. Adam had been sent to college back east, where he had planned to go before Marie's death. Ben knew it was the right decision for his oldest. The boy was smart, and had too much potential to waste it. So he had gone away for higher learning, even though Ben would miss him greatly. Since Adam had left, Hoss had learned to do more complicated ranch chores and loved it, preferring work to school. His father knew that as he grew, his help would become invaluable to the Ponderosa.

Ben snapped out of his reminiscing when Hoss's voice broke through his reverie. "What?"

"I said, are ya all right, Pa? You were driftin' a little there."

"I'm fine, just got a little carried away with my daydreaming. Are you finished eating?"

"Yeah, I'm done. Want me to go check on Little Joe, make sure he's doin' his chores?", Hoss asked.

Ben smiled gratefully. "If you could, that would be nice. Who knows what he's doing out there!"

Hoss wiped his mouth with his napkin and rose from his seat. "Don't worry Pa, I'll make sure he ain't gettin' inta trouble!" He put on his hat and rushed out the door in typical boyish fashion, also slamming the door behind him.

Ben just shook his head. "Boys will be boys, I suppose", he muttered in reference to the door. He finished the last dregs of his coffee, and made his way to the front door. He put on his own hat, buckled his gunbelt, and walked out the door, closing it softly.

When Hoss strolled into the barn, he found Little Joe leaning on a much-too-big stable broom, staring off into space. Not wanting his brother to get in trouble with Pa, he decided to interrupt the boy's daydreaming. "Uh Joe, what're ya doin'?"

Little Joe jumped at the sound of his brother's voice. "Geez, Hoss ya scared me!", he exclaimed. "I thought ya was Pa."

Hoss put his hands on his hips and looked down at Joe. "Ya better be glad I ain't Pa, otherwise ya'd be in trouble fer not gettin' yer chores done!"

"I am gettin' them done, I just needed a break", Joe said. "This broom is awful big and heavy."

Hoss looked around the barn. "Where's yer little broom that Pa made ya?"

"I don't know."

"Well, where'd ya have it last?"

"I don't know, prob'ly in here", Joe said nonchalantly. He wasn't overly concerned about the whereabouts of his broom, someone would find it eventually. Until then, he thought, maybe Hoss would sweep the barn for him. As if Hoss could read his mind, he said, "Iffen you think that just 'cause you cain't find yer broom that I'm gonna do the job for ya, yer wrong! I ain't got time to mess around today, Little Joe. Pa needs my help around here, so yer gonna have to play by yerself today."

"By myself? All day?" Joe's chin quivered slightly, for he loved his big brother immensely and had been looking forward to spending the day with him. "Can't I help ya, Hoss?"

Feeling sorry for having been so stern with the little boy, Hoss knelt down so that he was eye-level with the child. "Listen, Joe. I know ya wanna play, but I gotta help Pa out on the ranch today. Ya can't help 'cause yer too little. Ya might get hurt, and then Pa would be real upset. Ya know how he gets when there's somethin' wrong with ya."

Deep down in his heart, Little Joe knew that Hoss was right. The work that Hoss did often involved something dangerous, and he knew that there wasn't much that he could do to help anyway. He wasn't as strong as Hoss, and he was small for his age, looking about five or six rather than seven. He sighed. "Okay, Hoss. Don't ya worry about me, I'll find somethin' to do", Joe said resignedly.

"That's a good boy, Joe. I promise ya, we'll do somethin' fun together tomorra. 'Kay?"

"'Kay."

"All right then, I'll see ya later Joe. Oh, and there's yer broom", Hoss said as he walked out of the barn, pointing to the corner by the doors.

Little Joe waved goodbye to his brother, and retrieved his broom. He made quick work of his chores, then walked around the back of the barn to the large grassy area where he often played. He plopped down in the grass and sighed. What was he supposed to do now? He didn't want to play with his wooden soldiers and there was no one to shoot marbles with. Little Joe just didn't like playing by himself; he always got bored.

Joe got up and wandered around aimlessly, searching the surrounding area for something to amuse him. As he walked around, he became aware of the fact that although he had not been hungry at breakfast, he was hungry now. His face brightened when he spotted what he thought were blackberries growing near a small grove of trees.

Examining the fruit between his small fingers, he realized that they didn't look exactly like blackberries. They were round, smooth, and shiny, but they were the right color. Well, the only way ta see is ta taste 'em, Little Joe thought. Without hesitation he popped the berry into his mouth, savoring the sweet flavor of the fruit. It tasted like a blackberry. Must be a different kind. But they're really good!

Excited now, for blackberries never grew this close to the house, Joe proceeded to pluck the berries off of the plant and toss them into his mouth.

Little Joe finished the berries off quickly, for there were only a few on the plant that hadn't already been nibbled by insects and birds. He was disappointed now, because he had been going to ask Hop Sing to make a blackberry pie. Joe stood up from his spot in the grass and walked quietly towards the house; he was lonely and longed for the companionship of his brother Hoss. He pushed open the side door which led to the kitchen, hoping to find freshly baked cookies waiting for him.

Hop Sing looked up from his vegetable chopping as the door opened and Little Joe peeked in curiously. He motioned the small boy inside with a wave of his hand. "Come in, Lit'le Joe. What boy want?", he asked.

Joe shrugged. "Well, I found some blackberries behind the house, and I wanted you to make a pie, but there was only a few and I ate 'em all, so can I have a cookie instead?", Joe asked.

Turning and picking up the plate of sugar cookies on the table behind him, Hop Sing gave Little Joe a warning look. "Boy only have two, or else not eat lunch. Too skinny all leady!", he said scoldingly.

Little Joe took his allotted amount of cookies before the plate was whisked away by the well-meaning cook and smiled. "Thanks, Hop Sing." He took a bite of the cookie in his hand and chewed it slowly. As he munched his treat, Little Joe became aware of the sound of rain hitting the roof. He stood up on his chair and looked out the window. Fat raindrops were splattering the glass, and Joe could hear low rumbles of thunder in the distance. He turned at the sound of the cook's voice.

"Big storm come soon", Hop Sing said. "Lot of rain, lot of wind. Vely dangerous!"

"Will Pa come home?", Joe asked in a worried voice.

"Fathah come back in lit'le while, bring Numba Two son home", Hop Sing assured him.

Satisfied with the answer, Little Joe sat back down on his chair. He had been getting dizzy up there, and was dismayed to find that although he was sitting down, he still felt lightheaded. Joe put his cookie down and rubbed at his eyes with his hands, hoping to dispel the dizziness, to no avail. He looked dispassionately at his cookies still sitting on the table, noticing how his vision wavered. Maybe I should go lay down, Little Joe thought. He closed his eyes and laid his head on the table. Hop Sing turned at the sound of Joe's curly head bumping the tabletop. "Boy not sleep here! Go to room and sleep!", he said loudly.

Little Joe slid from his chair and began the wobbly walk to his bedroom, leaving his snack behind uneaten.

As he dragged himself up the stairs, using the banister to keep his balance, Joe was startled by a loud crash of thunder. He ducked his head and whimpered. Little Joe hated storms, and they always seemed much worse when his Pa wasn't home.

Stumbling through the bedroom door, Joe barely made it to his bed before his knees buckled. He pulled off his boots and snuggled into the blanket, tugging it up over his head in fright. The storm had grown in intensity, with lightning flashing almost constantly, and thunder roaring ominously. Joe huddled deeper under the covers, wishing and praying that his father and brother would come home.

As it was, Ben and Hoss pulled up their horses just minutes after Joe went upstairs. They put the animals in the barn and gave them a quick rubdown before hurrying into the house.

"Whew! That's some storm out there, ain't it Pa?", Hoss said as he wiped his muddy boots on the doormat.

"It is indeed, son. Hurry and change out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold", Ben answered.

"Yes sir. Bet Little Joe will be happy 'bout the rain, 'cause now I kin play with him." Hoss turned and raced up the stairs to change.

Ben stepped out of his own dirty boots and peeled off his work jacket, relishing the thought of dry clothes and a hot meal.

As he looked around, he noticed that Little Joe was nowhere to be seen. Usually the boy came running when he walked in the door. Maybe he's helping Hop Sing in the kitchen, he thought. More like getting in the way and making a mess, he smiled when he heard Hop Sing yelling loudly in Cantonese. Opening the kitchen door, Ben was surprised not to see Little Joe. Hop Sing was still ranting about something, and when he paused to take a breath, Ben asked," Hop Sing, where's Little Joe?"

"Lit'le Joe not in here, boy fall asleep on table, tell to go to bed! He not even finish his cookies", the cook said, a bit more calmly than before.

Ben was puzzled. "He fell asleep? Is he feeling all right?"

"Boy look fine, now get out of kitchen!", Hop Sing said. "Need to finish lunch!" He ushered Ben out and shut the door tightly behind him.

As the thunder crashed overhead, Ben heard a frightened wail from upstairs. Knowing exactly who made that noise, he started up the stairs, dripping water as he went. He bumped into Hoss in the hallway, as his middle boy made his way to Little Joe's room.

"Pa, why doncha go change an' I'll go see with Little Joe. Yer drippin' all over the place!", Hoss coaxed.

"All right, but I'll be there in just a minute", Ben agreed. He rushed into his own room to change while Hoss went to comfort his little brother.

When Hoss opened Joe's bedroom door, he could hear sniffles and whimpers coming out from the mound of blankets on the bed. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, he pulled the covers back to reveal Little Joe curled up in a ball with his pillow over his head. "Little Joe, it's Hoss. Yer all right", Hoss soothed.

Joe peeked out from under the pillow and saw his big brother looking sympathetically at him. "Hoss?", he squeaked.

"Yep, it's me. I ain't gonna let that big ol' storm git ya", he said as he scooped Little Joe into his arms, and was concerned that the boy felt limp. "Ya feelin' okay, Buddy?"

"I'm okay", Joe said. It was partly true-he felt better with Hoss so close to him, and the dizziness had eased slightly when he lay down.

It was in that position that Ben found his sons when he walked in a few minutes later. "Well, what do we have here?", he said.

Hoss looked up at his father. "He feels kinda funny, Pa."

"Funny? What do you mean?"

"He's all, I dunno, floppy."

"Come here, Joseph", Ben said worriedly. He sat down on Joe's bed and took the boy out of Hoss's arms. He did feel "floppy", as Hoss put it. "Little Joe, what's wrong?"

"Nothin' Pa, I'm just kinda tired, and my tummy hurts a little." Joe quickly shut his mouth, he hadn't meant to say that much. But he really didn't feel well, and his father wouldn't have taken "I'm fine" for an answer. "And the storm is so loud, Pa", he added in a small voice as thunder crashed outside.

Ben placed his palm on Little Joe's forehead. "You don't have a fever, maybe you just need something to eat? You really didn't have much at breakfast, and Hop Sing said you even left your cookies."

Joe nodded. "Maybe."

"Well then, little boy, why don't we go downstairs and get some of Hop Sing's delicious beef and carrot stew. We'll see how you feel when you've gotten something in you. Does that sound good?"

"Yes sir." Joe sat up, and was glad when the lightheadedness that had plagued him had abated for the moment. Holding Ben's large, calloused hand in his small one, Little Joe walked out of his room and down the stairs, with Hoss following eagerly behind.

The aroma of the stew permeated the house, and Joe's stomach growled. Maybe I am a little hungry, he thought. The family settled into their chairs at the dining room table as Hop Sing brought out a large pot of steaming hot beef stew and a basket of bread. When the food was settled on the table, Ben asked, "Hoss, would you please say the blessing?"

"Sure thing, Pa." Hoss folded his hands and said, "Dear God, please bless the food, an' help Little Joe's tummy feel better. Also, please let the storms stop soon, 'cause they're kinda loud an' scary. Amen." Hoss opened his eyes and smiled at Little Joe, who gave a small smile back.

Despite the happier look on his face, Little Joe was beginning to feel dizzy again, and tiny beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead. Not noticing his son's distress, Ben spooned a small amount of stew onto Joe's plate for him, along with a piece of bread. "You eat up Joe, and I bet your stomach will feel better", he said encouragingly. Joe swallowed and nodded; he wasn't sure if he could eat a single bite with the rising nausea he felt. He took a tentative mouthful, chewing and swallowing carefully so as not to upset his stomach. Ben nodded approvingly and turned to his own meal.

As the storm raged outside, Ben and Hoss chatted about the work that still needed done and would have to be put on hold. Little Joe sat miserably in his chair, unable to force himself to eat anymore. He pushed the food around his plate until Ben spoke to him. "Joe? Are you all right?" Feeling too bad to lie, Little Joe shook his head, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would throw up.

"What's wrong, son?"

Joe closed his eyes; the room felt as if it were spinning, and he couldn't hold his stomach in check anymore. "Pa? I-I don't feel-" Joe lost the battle with nausea and was sick all over the floor and himself.

Ben leaped out of his chair and hurried to the boy's side. Joe choked and heaved until there was nothing left to bring up. When he finished, he couldn't help the tears that welled up in his eyes and spilled down his little face. Gathering him close, Ben tried to reassure him. "It's all right, son. You're okay."

Appetite gone, Hoss also came to his brother's aid. "Pa? Whatcha want me ta do?", he asked urgently.

"Get some rags, and ask Hop Sing to help clean this up. "I need to get Little Joe cleaned off and into bed", he said, gesturing to the sobbing child in his arms. "He's not feeling well at all."

Leaving Hoss and the cook to clear up the mess, Ben cuddled Joe close to him as he took him upstairs to the boy's bedroom. Joe whimpered occasionally as his father's steps jarred his head and stomach. In an attempt to ease his son's discomfort, Ben slowed his stride slightly. It was a relief to Little Joe when they reached his room and he was settled into the chair by the window. Ben turned away for a moment to dig through Joe's dresser for a nightshirt, as the boy began to shiver. The claps of thunder were making his head throb, and as a flash of lightning lit up the room, Little Joe shrieked with fright. "PA!"

Ben whirled around in time to catch Joe before he tumbled off the seat. Feeling the goosebumps that rose on the boy's clammy skin, Ben gently pulled the nightshirt over his head and held him tightly. "It's all right Joseph, Pa's got you. Shhh", he soothed, rubbing the child's back comfortingly.

Little Joe was now shaking uncontrollably and the flush of fever was beginning to color his face. "P-Papa, w-what's wrong with m-me?", he stuttered, the chills making it difficult to speak.

"I don't know yet, Joe. Why don't you lay down and I'll get you some water?"

Joe gave the barest of nods against Ben's shoulder, and felt himself lifted up in his father's embrace and placed on top of his bedcovers.

He immediately curled up in a little ball to keep warm, while Ben poured a small glass of water for him. Little Joe was shivering so hard that his father had to sit him up and hold the glass for him while he drank so he wouldn't choke. When he had had enough, he pushed the glass away with shaking fingers. "N-No more, Pa."

"All right, son. We'll try again later."

Joe clutched at Ben's sleeve and began babbling incoherently. "P-Pa? Pa, w-where's Adam? W-Where is he? T-Tell him I w-want ta see him. W-Where is he?"

It broke Ben's heart to see his little boy struggle, and to make it worse, he knew that he couldn't bring Adam home for him. "Son, Adam is at college, remember?"

But Joe didn't remember, at least not in his fevered mind. "Pa? Pa, I s-see him! L-Look, he's over there!", the boy said excitedly, pointing to an empty space in front of his door. "I s-see him!"

Realizing that Little Joe was either delirious or hallucinating, Ben quickly wrapped him up in a blanket and took him downstairs. There was no way he could leave him alone while he sent for the doctor.

"Hoss! Hoss, come here!", he called.

His middle son came scurrying in from the kitchen, where he had been nibbling on the plate of cookies. "What's the matter, Pa?" His eyes fell on the quivering bundle in his father's arms. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, but he's got a high fever and he's hallucinating. He thinks Adam is in his room. I need you to send one of the hands for the doctor", he said loudly, trying to make himself heard over the howling wind and rain.

"We cain't Pa", Hoss said sadly. "The road is all turned ta mud an' it's too dangerous. Bruno jus' got back from town an' he could hardly see the road in front of him."

Ben closed his eyes against the moisture that welled there and looked skywards. Joe squirmed in his grip and he held the boy tighter. "Dear Lord, what should I do now?"

Ben was at a loss at what to do; his baby was seriously ill and there was no way to go for the doctor. As he stood there contemplating the nonexistent options, Hoss turned suddenly and scurried back to the kitchen. He burst in through the kitchen door, surprising Hop Sing so much he nearly dropped the knife he was holding. "What wrong with Number Two son? Why you run in and scare Hop Sing like that?", the cook scolded.

"Hop Sing, ya gotta help Little Joe! He's real sick an' Pa don't know what ta do. The roads are blocked so the doc cain't git through. Doncha have somethin' that kin help him?", Hoss said in a rush.

"What wrong with Lit'le Joe?"

"We don' know. The poor little guy is outta his head and got sick during dinner. Ya gotta help him Hop Sing!", Hoss explained tearfully.

"Number Two son not worry. Have teas to help lit'le boy." Hop Sing turned and opened the cupboard behind him and pulled out a beautifully carved ivory box. He saw Hoss's questioning look and said, "Contains many herbs for healing, make tea and things so that boy feel better."

He turned quickly and left the kitchen, with Hoss following close behind.

When the two reached the living room, Hoss was alarmed to hear Joe's labored breathing. The child lay wrapped in blankets in his father's warm embrace as Ben rocked him slowly back and forth. He came to sit next to them on the settee and asked,"How's he doin', Pa?"

Ben shook his head. "Not good. His fever's up and he keeps mumbling about how much his stomach hurts." Blinking back tears, he whispered brokenly, "I've already lost so much. What will I do if I lose my baby?" Ben buried his face in Little Joe's sweaty curls.

Hop Sing then took charge of the situation. "Lay boy down, let me look." He gently pushed Ben out of the way once the little boy was lying on the settee. He took note of Joe's pale face, and the way his forehead wrinkled from the pain in his small body.

Ben hovered over Hop Sing's shoulder. "Well?", he asked impatiently. "What's wrong with him?"

Hop Sing didn't answer, but continued to lightly probe Joe's body as he tried to figure out the cause of his misery. As his fingers roamed the child's hot flesh, Hop Sing watched Little Joe's face for a reaction, while Ben laid his hand over Joe's head to gauge his fever.

Little Joe squirmed and whimpered loudly when he felt gentle hands on his forehead. His green eyes fluttered open, immediately meeting those of his father who stood over him. "Papa", he moaned softly, tears streaming from his eyes and running into his hair. He reached his small hand up, and was rewarded for his efforts by Ben grabbing hold of him.

"It's all right son, Papa's here. You'll be okay", he crooned. Little Joe nodded and began to close his eyes again when he gave a sudden cry. "What is it, Joe?", Ben asked urgently as the boy began flailing his arms and trying to get up.

"N-Need up. H-Have ta go to the o-outhouse. Have to-" His explanation was cut short by his body's betrayal, and he broke out sobbing. "I-I'm s-sorry, Pa!", Joe wailed. "I'm s-sorry!" He covered his face with his trembling hands and cried harder; he was embarrassed, he hadn't had an accident since he was four and the nature of it made him feel worse than before.

Gently shoving Hop Sing out of the way, Ben stooped over the settee where Little Joe lay and picked him up, regardless of the soiled linens that he still wore. With the small boy nestled in his arms, Ben turned and spoke to Hoss in a low voice. "Son, I need you to bring me some clean clothes and another blanket for your brother, and hurry." Hoss gave a quick nod and took off up the stairs for the requested items.

Before Ben could open his mouth, Hop Sing said, "I get hot water for bath. Make boy feel better." He crossed the living room and disappeared into the kitchen to heat up the water.

While waiting for the bath to be ready, Ben began taking Little Joe's dirty clothes off of him. Unwrapping the blanket from around his son, he tried to comfort him as tears of pain and humiliation streamed down his face. "Joe, it's all right. There's nothing to be ashamed of, son."

The boy stopped crying long enough to say, "Y-Yes there is. I didn't m-make it ta the o-outhouse! I'm not s'pose ta have a-accidents anymore!" Fresh tears welled up and spilled from his red-rimmed eyes. "I c-couldn't—"

"Shhh, it's okay. Don't cry, Joseph. You can't help being sick", Ben tried to reassure him as he peeled Joe's soiled pants off. "Hop Sing is getting a nice, warm bath ready for you. Does that sound good?", he asked gently. He felt Little Joe nod against his chest, and hugged his fevered child close.

It was in this position that Hoss found his father and baby brother in when he came downstairs with clean longjohns, nightshirt, and blanket. "Pa?", he said hesitantly. "Here's his clothes."

Ben looked up from his spot on the floor and smiled wearily. "Thank you, Hoss. Now, could you please take your brother to the kitchen, Hop Sing has a bath ready for him to clean up."

"Sure Pa. Come on buddy, let's get ya all clean."

But Joe refused to leave his father, despite Hoss's best efforts to lead him to the bath. Ben tried to loosen Joe's grip on his shirt, to no avail. "Joseph, go with your brother, son. It's all right." Joe shook his head; he felt sick and his whole body hurt, from his head right down to his toes. He was cold, yet hot at the same time, and he couldn't seem to stop crying. Little Joe wanted to stay close to his Pa, knowing that he was a source of constant love and comfort.

Ben and Hoss looked at each other, both feeling sorry for the ill child sobbing out his misery in his father's embrace. "Hey, Pa. Why doncha take Joe ta take a bath, and I'll clean up out here? He looks like he wants ya somethin' fierce", Hoss said with a weak smile. He wasn't particularly excited to clean up the mess in the room, but with his little brother feeling so bad he couldn't complain.

"I'm sorry Hoss, it won't be pleasant for you."

"Doncha worry 'bout me, Pa. I ain't sick like poor Little Joe. Ya jist give him his bath an' make him feel better", Hoss reassured him.

"All right Hoss, and thank you." Ben lead Joe to the kitchen where Hop Sing had filled the copper tub with warm water and special herbs to ease the boy's pain.

The aromatic steam rose up from the water as Ben placed Little Joe in the tub, murmuring words of comfort as he did so. Despite all this, Joe still cried helplessly, wearing himself out as he did so. Ben could tell that the boy was tiring by the sound of his wails, and hurried to wash his shivering body before he fell asleep.

By the time his bath was over with, Joe was nearly asleep, cradled in the crook of his father's arm as the towel was wrapped around him. He had cried himself out, and only hiccuped occasionally from the racking sobs. While Hop Sing prepared a cup of tea to settle Little Joe's stomach, Ben dried him and pulled the clean clothes over his head. He hated to wake the boy, when the time came for him to drink the tea, but he knew that it would help avoid the situation that had happened earlier.

After finishing his tea, Little Joe lay back against Ben's broad chest and tried desperately to keep the tears from leaving his eyes. His head was hurting again and he could feel his stomach churning even after he had swallowed Hop Sing's soothing brew. He didn't dare open his eyes, even when he heard the sound of the door opening and closing, knowing that Hoss had returned from clearing up.

He simply sat in Ben's lap, one small hand curled tightly around the edge of his shirt.

Hoss was disappointed to see that his baby brother looked no better than he had in the living room. The boy was still shaking and Hoss could tell that he was fighting tears. As he felt Joe's trembling increase, Ben wrapped his arms tighter around the boy.

"He still feelin' bad, Pa?", Hoss said heavily.

"I'm afraid so, Hoss. And he's just getting worse." Ben's voice broke. "What are we going to do?"

Hoss was quiet for a moment before saying, "Pa, could he have eaten somethin' that's makin' him sick?"

Ben looked startled. "You mean to say that he could've eaten something poisonous?"

"Maybe. Lemme git Hop Sing!"

When Hoss came back with the cook in tow, Ben had shifted Joe so that the boy was laying over his shoulder, hoping to comfort him as his small frame shook with sobs. "Pa, what happened?"

"He's hurting again, and he says he just wants his mama. He's delirious and thinks that she's still alive. I told him that she couldn't come to him and this happened." He gestured to the little boy crying on his shoulder. "He needs help, and he needs it now." He took a breath and looked at Hop Sing. "What has Little Joe eaten today, Hop Sing?"

"Boy not eat eggs at breakfast, but he have blackberries before lunch. Not eat cookies or lunch, just get sick," he explained.

"Blackberries? Pa, it's too early for blackberries ta be growin' yet. Wonder where he found 'em?"

Ben looked to be deep in thought. If Joe hadn't eaten breakfast, cookies, or lunch, but had eaten the so-called blackberries, then they must be what was making him sick. "Hoss, do we have anything around here that resembles blackberries?"

"No sir, nothin' 'cept—" Hoss's eyes grew wide with horror. "There was some nightshade berries growin' round the back of the house earlier this summer! Do ya think he ate those?"

Ben shut his eyes against the sudden rush of anxiety that swept through his body. "It's the only thing I can think of, Hoss. The only good thing is that if it is indeed nightshade poisoning, there must have been only five or six berries on the plant. If there weren't, Little Joe wouldn't be here now", he said gravely.

As if on cue, Little Joe suddenly picked his head off his father's shoulder and began screaming incessantly for his mother. "Mama! Where's my Mama? I want Mama!" Ben tried to calm the distraught child before he made himself sick. "Little Joe, it's okay son. Mama's all right. Shhh." He began to sway side to side, holding the boy close as he rocked.

Seeing and hearing his son's distress was taking its toll on Ben. He was exhausted from trying to keep Little Joe calm and still so that he wouldn't aggravate his aching body, and the hour was growing late. The only consolation was that the storm was dying down, which made for a more stable atmosphere in the house.

Ben kept Little Joe cuddled to his chest as his screams for his mother gradually quietened to soft whimpers and his body went limp, signifying that the child had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Sighing in relief, Ben stood and carried Joe out to his red leather chair in the great room, with Hoss trailing behind.

Gone was the mess of earlier, and a warm fire was roaring in the fireplace. He noticed that the chamber pot from underneath his bed was strategically placed on the floor near the end of the settee, and a stack of blankets and pillows sat on the coffee table. Looking at his middle son with gratitude, Ben asked him, "Did you do this?"

Hoss nodded bashfully. "Thought ya might need some stuff fer him, so I jist brought 'em down."

His father's eyes filled with tears. "What would I do without you, Hoss? What would I do without any of my boys? What if Joe—"

"Pa, ya cain't keep talkin' like that! Iffen Little Joe hears ya, he's gonna be scared. B'sides, there's gotta be somethin' we kin do fer him", Hoss said matter-of-factly. Both Cartwrights were quiet, thinking about possible solutions and listening to Little Joe's heavy breathing.

Hoss finally broke the silence. "Pa?"

"Yes?"

" 'Member that mare we had last year? The one that got inta some nightshade? What did ya do fer her?"

"Hoss, your brother is not a horse!"

"But maybe what worked fer the mare would work fer Little Joe! How did ya git rid of the poison?"

"I kept her moving so the poison would work through her body", Ben answered resignedly.

"How kin we git the poison outta Little Joe?" Hoss said excitedly.

"We'll, normally when someone has been poisoned you make them throw up, but he's already done that. I wonder if the accident he had earlier had any impact on the poisoning."

Hoss was confused. "Whaddya mean, Pa?"

"I wonder if it got rid of some of the toxin in his body."

"Oh. We could try ta make him do it again, Pa", Hoss offered tentatively.

"It can't make him any worse, so we may as well try it. Go and get the castor oil while I wake him up."

"Yes sir!" His leapt up and began to rummage in the medicine drawer for the castor oil.

Ben, meanwhile, had picked Joe up under his arms and sat him in his lap. The boy muttered incoherently as his father gently shook his shoulders. "Come on Joe, wake up. We're going to try and make you feel better. That's it, wake up."

Little Joe slowly opened his glassy green eyes to meet Ben's warm brown ones. "Pa?", he said in a tiny voice.

"Yes, it's Pa. Listen to me, Joe. Hoss and I are going to try to make you feel better, but it won't feel very good", he said gently. He thumbed away the tears that had begun to run down Joe's face. "Don't cry, baby. It's all right." Ben rubbed the back of Joe's neck softly, attempting to soothe the boy.

When Hoss brought the brown glass bottle to his father a few minutes later, he felt his spirits lift slightly at the sight of his little brother's eyes open. "Hey, buddy. Glad ta see yer awake. Got some medicine here fer ya, it'll make ya feel better."

Ben took the bottle from Hoss. "Thank you. Make sure the fire is stoked up, I don't want him getting cold if we have to take his clothes off," he said briskly. Hoss complied, then sat down on the coffee table facing his father and brother. He handed Ben a spoon, and watched in disgust as he unscrewed the lid on the bottle. "Do ya need me ta hold his hands, Pa?"

"Yes, please do. He's going to hate this." Ben poured out a measure of the thick liquid into the spoon and gave Hoss a quick nod.

"Hey punkin. Pa's got somethin' fer ya ta drink, so go 'head an' open up," he encouraged.

Little Joe obediently open his mouth and his father put the spoon in. As soon as the medicine touched his tongue, Joe tried to spit it out. "No!", he choked out. He fought unsuccessfully to free his hands from his big brother's grip. Ben was forced to massage the boy's throat to make him swallow, although he hated to do it. "Easy there, son. We're almost done now, you just need to take one more dose."

"Please no! Please Pa, no more!" Joe cried miserably.

Ben was torn—part of him knew that he had to continue if he wanted his son to live, and the other part wanted to stop his torture and let him be. He knew that he wouldn't, couldn't, choose the latter. "Hop Sing!", he called.

The cook came jogging through the kitchen door. "Mistah Cartwright, what you need? Lit'le Joe worse?"

"Yes, he is, and he needs to take this castor oil. I need you to hold his hands so that Hoss can hold his mouth open."

Hoss was horrified. "Ya mean we have ta force it down his throat?"

"It's the only way, son. Otherwise we'll never get it down."

Hoss took a deep breath and gave his seat to Hop Sing, who took Joe's small hands in his, humming softly. This time, when Ben brought the medicine to Joe's lips, Hoss forced his jaw open, despite the sobs escaping his brother. Little Joe swallowed again and threw himself against Ben's shoulder, shaking and crying. "Pa, my tummy hurts! Make it stop! Ohhh...", he groaned and grabbed his stomach. Recognizing what was soon to happen, Ben maneuvered Joe over to the chamber pot and took off his longjohns. The boy thrashed and cried, but the inevitable happened and he slumped forward, his stomach cramping with painful spasms.

Holding Little Joe firmly so that he would keep still, Ben asked for a cool, wet rag. Hop Sing brought out a bowl of water and a small towel, which was then smoothed over Joe's red face.

The cool water felt good, and Joe slowly relaxed, ceasing his thrashing and gulping back the tears. "Pa?", he said shakily.

"What is it, Little Joe?"

"I-I'm done", he answered in a low voice, embarrassed that he needed help.

"All right, then. Put your hands on my shoulders, son." Ben helped Joe to stand up and clean up as discreetly as possible, the pulled his long underwear back on. He noticed that Little Joe wasn't shivering and shaking quite as much as before, and took it as a good sign. He was exhausted though, from both the illness and the fact that it was way past his bedtime.

Bringing Joe back to his chair, Ben began rocking him side to side, while Hoss rubbed his back. Hop Sing carried the offensive pot outside to be cleaned, and returned with a happy look on his face.

"Mistah Cartwright! Rain stop, storm gone now! Now Lit'le Joe have doctah!"

Hoss jumped up and ran out the door. The rain had indeed stopped, and although the road would still be rather muddy, the danger of someone losing their way had passed. He hurried back inside and said,"Hey Pa, the rain did stop! Ya want me ta send one of the hands fer the doctor? The road's still kinda muddy, but no one's gonna git lost."

Ben squeezed Little Joe tighter. "Yes, if it's safe to send someone then please do. Joe's been waiting too long already."

Hoss darted back out to wake one of the hands, and Ben lifted his eyes heavenward. "Thank you, Lord. Help Paul get here fast!", he prayed.

Little Joe shifted, and his father adjusted him to better fit in his lap, then sat back to await the doctor's arrival.

When Hoss came back into the house, he felt his eyes moisten at the sight of his father and baby brother cuddled in the chair. Little Joe was no longer shaking as much, although the piteous moans that emitted from him indicated that he was still uncomfortable. Ben alternated between gently rocking the boy and rubbing his back, which seemed to keep him calm and quiet, despite the cramps that still gripped his stomach. Little Joe groaned softly and began mumbling incoherently; tiny, whispery sounds.

Coming to stand next to the chair, Hoss put his hand on Ben's chair. "Pa? I sent Clem fer the doc. He'll be here soon's he can."

Ben looked up at his kind-hearted son gratefully. "Thanks, Hoss. You've been such a help to me during this whole ordeal..."

"Aw Pa, it ain't nothin'. Jist tryin' ta make Little Joe feel better is all." He looked at the small bundle laying on his father's lap. "He'd do the same fer me, iffen he were big enough!", he chuckled.

"Yes, he would", Ben agreed. He sat back and rested his head against the top of the chair, losing himself to his thoughts.

His boys would indeed do anything for each other, even if it was difficult. Despite the challenges or obstacles that might stand in their way, they would always put their brother's needs before their own. All for one and one for all, Ben thought with a smile. He looked down at his youngest, who at the moment was dozing quietly. He felt his own eyes droop with tiredness, and he yawned widely. He cast a glance over at the settee and saw Hoss stretched out asleep on the cushions. If Joe was resting easily, then it wouldn't hurt to take a short nap, he reasoned. He carefully settled himself more comfortably in the seat and closed his eyes.

It felt as though he had been sleeping for less than twenty minutes when Ben opened his eyes again. Little Joe was squirming and whimpering loudly, his small body twisting with the pain he was feeling. His stomach had flared up again and left him feeling nauseous. Joe's green eyes fluttered open and looked up at his father. "Pa? I don't feel so good. I think—"

But what Joe thought, Ben didn't find out before he lost control of his stomach and heaved violently. Since he'd had nothing to eat since being sick the first time, the only thing that came up was the bit of water he had managed to drink. Little Joe fell back against Ben breathing heavily, completely exhausted from the harsh action of his body.

The sounds of Joe being sick brought Hoss to wakefulness and Hop Sing out of the kitchen, bringing with him a wet rag. Ben took the cool cloth from the cook and gently wiped Little Joe's face with it, murmuring reassurances the whole time.

"Pa? Do ya want me ta hold him while ya go change yer clothes?", Hoss asked.

"Just for a minute. I'll be back as soon as I can", Ben replied, lifting Joe and handing him off to his big brother. Joe felt himself being snuggled in Hoss's strong arms, and let out a sigh of relief at the calm feeling that swept over him.

Ben moved from the chair and hurried up the stairs as quickly as his tired body allowed, leaving Hop Sing to finish tidying up.

When Hoss sat down again, he felt Little Joe begin to wiggle around in an attempt to get comfortable. "Need some help there, Little Brother? Ya jist be still an' let ol' Hoss do the work." He moved the boy so that he was draped over his shoulder and felt his small arms wrap around his neck. "Better?", he asked the child. Little Joe nodded and suddenly tensed.

Concerned, Hoss asked him, "What's the matter?"

Joe bit his lip to stop the cry rising up in his throat. "H-hurts", he whined. "Hurts...bad." A single tear rolled down his face to dampen Hoss's shirt, and he sniffed loudly. His grip around his brother's neck tightened, and a muffled sob escaped his control.

Turning the boy around to face him, Hoss stood and began rocking him back and forth and rubbing his back. "Don' cry, Punkin. Pa'll be down in a minute an' the doc'll be here soon. He'll make ya feel better", he soothed. Little Joe just shivered and cried in Hoss's arms, the misery evident on his face.

Moments later, Ben came down the stairs and was discouraged by what he saw. He approached his middle son and held out his hands. "Hoss, why don't you let me take him back? Then I want you to lay down and try and get some rest before Paul comes. It's nearly two in the morning as it is."

"But Pa—", he said as Joe's wails escalated.

"No buts. I can handle him until the doctor gets here, and you'll be no use to me if you collapse from exhaustion", he said sternly. "Now off to bed with you!"

Defeated, Hoss transferred Little Joe to Ben's waiting arms and trudged upstairs. He looked back over his shoulder at his Pa and baby brother, one sobbing and crying and the other comforting. Hop Sing appeared at his side. "Numba Two son go upstairs, Hop Sing take care of Fathah and lit'le boy. Shoo!", he ordered with a smile. "You go sleep, wait for doctah."

Giving the man a weary grin, Hoss conceded and made his way upstairs.

Once again, Ben held Little Joe close to him, and as his sobs subsided, he went limp in his father's embrace, signifying his level of exhaustion. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Ben sat down on the settee and laid Joe's head in his lap, while the rest of his body rested along the seat cushion. As the clock chimed half-past two, both father and son fell into a restless sleep, in which they stayed until Doctor Paul Martin knocked on the door an hour later.

When the heavy front door squeaked open, Paul Martin surveyed the scene before him. Ben and Little Joe were stretched out on the settee together, both seeming to be asleep. As he closed the door and began walking towards them, Joe stirred. He moaned softly, and his hand reached up seeking a handhold.

Paul sat down on the coffee table and took Little Joe's hand in his. "Ben? Ben, wake up. Come on", he coaxed his friend. He was rewarded with a flutter of eyelids and a yawn. "Paul? Is that you?", he asked confusedly.

The doctor chuckled. "Yes, it's me. Who else would wake up at three in the morning to come see you?"

Joe groaned again and whimpered. His little face was twisted into a grimace as his stomach churned painfully. "Pa..."

Ben motioned to Paul to release Joe's hand to him, to which he quickly complied. "I'm right here, boy. Shhh."

"Hurts...hurts", Joe cried pitifully.

"I know it does, son. Doc's here now and he's gonna make you feel better, all right?"

" 'Kay..."

Joe settled down momentarily, giving Paul the chance to inquire about the boy's sickness. "Now Ben, when did he start feeling bad?"

"About the time that Hoss and I came back for lunch, I suppose. Hop Sing was here with him before that, and he said that he didn't notice anything was wrong with Joe, except that he seemed tired and didn't want to eat."

"How was he when you got home? Did he see upset or sick to you?", Paul asked as he gently propped Joe against his father and pulled up his nightshirt.

"Well, it was storming pretty hard when we got home. Hoss went upstairs to see him and he was terrified of the thunder and lightning. He also said the Little Joe was 'floppy'."

The doctor nodded as he applied light pressure to areas on Joe's tummy. The child cried out when the discomfort became too much, and tears slowly tracked down his face.

"I'm sorry, Little Joe. I'll try to be more careful", Paul apologized. "What happened after you saw him, Ben?", he prompted.

"I brought him down to eat lunch with us, and we weren't five minutes into the meal when he threw up."

Paul looked up sharply. "He threw up? How many times has he done it since then?"

"That was the only time, but he also had a couple bouts of, er...well, he had an accident", Ben said in a low voice so as not to embarrass the little boy next to him. "The first time was actually an accident, but the second time, I had given him castor oil in hopes of ridding his body of the poison."

Paul looked thoughtful. "Yes, I heard from your hand that you suspected poisoning. Do you have any idea what it was?"

"We think he got into some nightshade, thinking that they were blackberries." Ben explained how he and Hoss had come to that conclusion earlier.

"That sounds like nightshade, all right", Paul said grimly. He patted Little Joe's cheek until he saw the glassy green eyes open and asked, "Joe? Do you think you could answer some questions for me?" The boy nodded tiredly and let out a tiny whimper, snuggling closer to his Pa.

"I know you're tired and don't feel good, so I'll try to be quick. Did you eat any berries?"

"Y-yes."

"Okay, now what did they look like and how many did you eat?"

Little Joe's face scrunched up in thought and pain. "T-They were shiny and blackberry colored. They were kinda sweet." He gulped down the tears that threatened from the cramps he was experiencing and continued. "I only ate f-five. The others were all ate." Joe shivered harder and closed his eyes.

Paul gave Joe a sympathetic look. "I'm almost done now, boy. Just a little bit longer. How did you feel before lunch?"

"D-Dizzy, an' my tummy hurted", Little Joe eked out. He wasn't feeling any better, and his fever was going up again. "Please make my tummy stop, it hurts bad!", he cried, before dissolving into tears and burying his face in his father's shirt.

As Ben rubbed Joe's back in an attempt to ease his sobs, Paul began rummaging through his black medical bag.

"What are you looking for?", the worried father asked.

"I'm going to give him a light sedative so that he can get some decent rest, and then I will explain to you what the course of action will be." Paul then pulled out a vial half full of a white powder and removed the cork. He then dissolved the powder into the glass of water given to him by Hop Sing, and motioned for Ben to sit Joe up. "I need you to hold him while he takes this", he said. "It doesn't taste very nice and he won't want to take it."

Ben pulled Little Joe up so that he was in a semi-reclining position and began speaking gently in his ear. "Son, the doctor has something for you to drink. It won't taste good, but it will help you feel better."

It was a show of how bad Joe was feeling when he opened his mouth and swallowed the bitter mixture without complaint. He made a face and laid against his father once again, the medicine already having a relaxing effect on his small body.

Paul breathed a sigh of relief. "I wasn't expecting him to take it so easily. Usually he fights tooth and nail against taking any kind of medicine."

"Yes, he does. He must be really sick", Ben agreed. "What do we do now?" He looked down at his little boy, curled in his lap and sleeping soundly.

"Well, there's not a whole lot that we can do now, Ben. From what you've told me, the poison has been running it's course through his body for the past fourteen hours, resulting in the cramps, nausea, fever, and diarrhea. Considering that he hasn't been sick or had an accident in the last two hours, I would say that the poison is well on its way out of his body. It's fortunate that he didn't eat any more than he did, otherwise we might not be here discussing his treatment." Ben's face paled. Paul continued, "Nightshade is extremely poisonous to children, and with Joe being so small, I'm surprised it didn't impact him any worse."

"So that's it? We just wait for the poison to leave his body?"

"Yes, so I want you to make sure that he is getting plenty of water and broth. You'll need to keep cool cloths on his forehead to keep his fever from rising, and warm poultices on his stomach will help ease the cramps."

Relief filled Ben at the realization that his baby would live, that he would be all right, providing that he was taken care of. "How long until he starts feeling better?", he asked.

Paul stretched and yawned. "He should be feeling more like himself in a day or so. When he wakes up, which won't be until late morning, try giving him some broth. If he can keep that down, then I'd say he's on the road to recovery. I think most of the poison is gone, what with the vomiting and such. You were smart to think of the castor oil, Ben."

"It was Hoss's idea, really. He asked how we should get the poison out of Little Joe, and castor oil is the fastest way to get something out of someone!", he said, chuckling. Ben yawned suddenly and Paul rose from his seat. "I want you to get some sleep, Ben. Little Joe is resting easy now, and won't wake until about ten o'clock in the morning. I'll be back to visit him then."

"But—"

"But nothing, old friend. You'll be no use to Joe if you can't stay awake!", Paul scolded.

"That's exactly what I told Hoss", Ben grumbled.

"Like father, like son", the doctor smiled sarcastically.

"All right, all right. I'll get some rest. But I am staying right here with my son", Ben said stubbornly.

Paul threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine, you stay here. As long as you actually sleep, you can stay. But when I come back in a few hours there better be an improvement on your energy levels!"

"Of course, Paul. Now why don't you go home and get some rest before you come back?" Ben said slyly. The doctor only shook his head tiredly. "You ornery Cartwrights! Only time you're nice and quiet is when you're asleep!" His words sounded annoyed but his eyes were twinkling. "I'll see you in the morning, Ben. Take care of that pup of yours."

"I will, Paul. Thanks you." He shook the doctor's hand and pulled the blanket on the back of the settee over Little Joe and himself. He closed his eyes wearily and fell quickly to sleep.

Paul smiled and quietly opened the door, closing it softly behind him.

Inside the house, all was quiet and peaceful, if just for a few hours, as father and sons slept easily until morning.

As the sun streamed through the windows in the great room, Ben was just beginning to wake up. He blinked several times and yawned, looking to his left where Little Joe was nestled in the crook of his arm. The child still slept soundly, oblivious to his father gently stroking his soft curls. The blanket they had shared the night before was tangled around Joe's body, with one small fist wrapped around the edge of the fabric.

Ben was confused when his fingers brushed against a cool, damp towel on Joe's forehead. Hop Sing, he thought to himself. He was grateful to the cook, who must have gotten up periodically throughout the night to change the cloth so that Little Joe's fever would ease. He pulled the compress back, and laid his hand on his youngest son's forehead. He was still warm, but his fever wasn't nearly as high as it had been. Sighing in relief, Ben said a silent prayer of thanks that Little Joe would be all right.

He had almost dozed off again when the grandfather clock chimed nine. He jerked awake, and felt the boy next to him shift slightly. He moaned softly and Ben immediately took him into his arms. "Shh Joe, it's okay. You just go back to sleep now", he crooned.

Joe fell back to sleep within a matter of minutes, feeling warm and safe in his father's arms. Ben smiled at the boy's easy entrance into the Land of Nod once again.

The clatter of feet on the stairs made him look up and meet the eyes of Hoss, who had feared a reprimand for sleeping so late. Seeing Little Joe curled up on Ben's lap brought back remembrance of the night before. "Sorry Pa", he said quietly. "Didn't mean ta be so loud on the stairs." He walked softly down the rest of the way and perched himself on the arm of the settee. "How's he doin'?", he asked.

"He's doing better, fever's not nearly as high as last night. That medication Paul gave him last night is doing him a lot of good." Ben took a moment to shift Little Joe from his left side to the right, trying to keep him from waking up. His efforts proved to be fruitless, though, when he found himself looking into his son's bleary green eyes.

"Pa?", Joe muttered weakly.

"Right here, Joe. How do you feel?", Ben asked gently.

Joe yawned widely, then grimaced. "Ugh, my tummy's sore. And my mouth tastes funny", he complained.

"Sore like what? Does it hurt or do the muscles feel sore?"

"I think I musta pulled a muscle eating or somethin', 'cause I'm really sore." He winced and closed his eyes once more.

Ben chuckled a bit at the boy's logic, then said, "Son, you didn't pull a muscle. Do you remember what happened last night?"

Little Joe opened his eyes and thought hard. "I 'member I got sick at dinner. Sorry Pa", he said apologetically.

"No need to apologize, you were sick and couldn't help it", his father reassured him. "Little Joe, the doctor and I think you were poisoned."

"P-Poisoned? But how?", Joe asked alarmingly.

Ben's voice turned serious. "Joseph, did you eat 'blackberries' yesterday?"

Joe nodded slowly and suddenly gripped his stomach. "Ow Pa, why do I hurt so bad?", he asked as a cramp tightened the abdominal muscles painfully. Tears stood in his eyes and he leaned into his father's bulk, wishing the pain would go away.

Wrapping his arms around his youngest, Ben answered, "Joe, those were not blackberries. They were nightshade berries, and they are extremely poisonous. They're the cause of the stomach cramps and the throwing up. It's why you're hurting so much now, and have a fever."

He turned to Hoss and asked his middle son to bring Hop Sing out to him. The boy hurried to do as he was asked, and Ben continued to hold his child close until the spasm eased. "How are you feeling, Joseph?"

Little Joe sniffed and tried to bring himself under control. "My belly still hurts, but I don't feel like throwin' up", he managed. He looked at his Pa and his voice quivered when he said, "Am I gonna die?"

"No, son! You're going to be all right, the poison just needs time to leave your body", Ben explained. He sat and comforted his son until Hoss came back with Hop Sing.

The diminutive Chinese cook was happy to see the youngest Cartwright awake, although he was aware of the lingering pain in the child's eyes. "What Mistah Cartwright need for boy?"

"I could use a hot poultice for his stomach, he's still cramping up pretty bad", Ben replied. He turned his gaze to Little Joe's face, taking in the pale, pinched look on his young features.

Hop Sing nodded in affirmation and scurried back to the kitchen to prepare the poultice.

Hoss sat down next to his little brother and began gently rubbing his back to soothe him. "Hey there Joe, how ya doin' this mornin'?"

Joe opened his eyes to meet those of his older brother. "Not too good, Hoss." He shifted uncomfortably and his face twisted into a pained grimace.

Hoss put his hand over his brother's and held it tightly. "You'll be okay, Joe. Hop Sing's comin' with yer poultice, it'll make yer tummy not hurt so much."

The little boy nodded and shut his eyes. He was exhausted and his stomach hurt, and the nausea that had plagued him all night was making a return as Hop Sing brought his poultice out.

Ben took a moment to lift Little Joe's nightshirt so that the cook could lay the hot pack over his stomach. Joe flinched at the heat when it came into contact with his skin.

"Easy, Joe", his father crooned. "You'll feel better soon."

Joe wasn't so sure. The strong odor of the poultice had brought his nausea back to full force and he struggled to keep it in.

Hoss had been stroking Joe's hair when he noticed how green Joe was. "Uh Pa, I don't think Joe's feelin' too good..."

"What?"

"Look at 'im. He's awful green lookin'."

Joe was indeed looking very green; his face pale and one hand clamped tightly over his mouth. He looked up at his father through wide, panicked eyes before losing control and heaving desperately into the basin Hoss thrust under his chin.

As he coughed and choked, Joe felt Ben's hands on his back and chest to brace him against the harsh movement.

"Easy Little Joe, it's all right. Try to calm down."

Joe took one deep breath and then another, relishing the clean air he was taking in. "S-Sorry Pa. Guess the poultice made me kinda sick", he apologized.

"Don't worry about it, son. Do you need some water to rinse out your mouth?", Ben asked tenderly.

"Yes, please."

After drinking deeply from the glass offered to him by Hoss, Joe began to feel tired again.

"Don' go ta sleep agin, little brother. The doc wants to have a look at ya this mornin'", Hoss chided, looking at his father. Ben nodded in agreement. "You need to stay awake a little longer, Joe. Doctor Martin is coming out soon to check up on you."

"But I'm tired", Little Joe whined. "I wanna sleep!"

Seeing the pout on the boy's face made Ben want to laugh, but he knew it would only aggravate Joe's bad mood. Maybe his grumpiness meant that he was feeling better, though. He was trying to think of a way to distract Joe from how sleepy he was when Hoss spoke up. "Hey Joe, wanna play I Spy?"

"Little Joe yawned. "'Kay, but just for a while. I'm tired."

Delighted that he had caught the little boy's attention, Hoss began, "I spy with my lil' eye, somethin'...blue!"

Joe opened his eyes and looked wearily around the room. "Uh...Adam's chair", he guessed.

"Nope! Guess again!"

"Umm, uh, I dunno. I don't wanna play anymore!", Joe cried. He rubbed his eyes and sniffed, leaning back into Ben's chest.

"Aw, come on Joe! Ya didn' even try!", Hoss complained.

"It's all right, Hoss. Thanks for trying", Ben said encouragingly. "Little Joe is just tired and overwrought with everything that's happened."

Hoss nodded apologetically. "Sorry 'bout that, Joe. I jist wanted ta make ya feel better."

Joe's only response was to pull his blanket around his shoulder and snuggle up in his father's arms.

Hoss sat next to his father and little brother for the next half hour, talking occasionally to keep Ben company. Little Joe drifted in and out of sleep, content to just sit with his Pa. His stomach wasn't hurting as much anymore, but he was very tired from the night before and as a result was extremely cranky. He was even more upset when he heard a knock on the front door, and then Dr. Martin's voice.

"Well, good morning Ben. How is Little Joe this morning?", he asked.

"He seems a bit better, although he did get sick earlier, but he's been pretty quiet for the past half hour or so. He's just plain exhausted."

"That's to be expected, after the night he had", Paul said. "I'm going to take a look at him, if you don't mind."

Ben shifted Joe to face the doctor, despite the boy's protests. "Pa, I don't wanna see the doctor! He gives me yucky medicine!"

"That's enough, young man. Paul just wants to make sure the poison is leaving your body like it's supposed to. Now sit still," Ben reprimanded sternly.

Little Joe made a pout, but did as his father asked. He wasn't sure if he could have put up a fight anyway, he was so tired.

Paul noticed how easily Little Joe was cowed into submission, and knew that the boy was still feeling bad enough that he was too tired to argue. "All right Joe, I'm just going to be feeling around your tummy to make sure everything is okay there." He lifted Joe's nightshirt and began to gently but firmly probe the different areas on Joe's stomach. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, and aside from a few grunts, Joe didn't seem to be in much pain.

"Well now Joe, how do you feel right now?", Paul questioned.

Little Joe yawned widely and answered. "Not so bad, I guess. I don't feel sick anymore an' my tummy doesn't hurt. I'm just tired."

Paul smiled encouragingly. "Well young man, I think you're on the road to recovery." He looked at Ben and said, "He's going to be okay. He'll need plenty of rest, and I don't want him on solid foods just yet. Start off with broth and see how he does. If he can keep it down all of today, you can introduce soft foods. In the meantime, you might want to give him a lesson or two on edible and non-edible plants."

Ben nodded. "Trust me, that's the first thing I plan on doing, once he's feeling a bit better." He looked down at Little Joe, now fast asleep in his lap, and at Hoss, who was snoring at his left. "I think we all need to get some sleep!"

Three days later, Little Joe was almost back to his normal, playful self. He still tired easily, although he was beginning to chafe at having to take an afternoon nap, at the doctor's request. He was eating soft foods now, having been successful at keeping his broth where it belonged.

On the third afternoon, Ben decided to have a talk with the youngster. "Joseph, could you come here please?", he called from the study.

Little Joe came shuffling in from the kitchen, where he had been chased out by Hop Sing for sampling the frosting for the cake he'd made for after dinner. "Yes Pa?"

"Now that you're feeling better, it's time that you and I had a talk."

"Am I in trouble?"

"No, no, you're not in trouble. We just need to make a few things clear to keep you out of trouble." Once Little Joe has settled on his knee, he said, "Have you ever heard the phrase 'all that glitters is not gold'?"

"No sir. What's it mean?"

"It means that sometimes things look good that really aren't. For example, those nightshade berries looked like blackberries, but they weren't. Had there been any more berries, we wouldn't be having this conversation", Ben said gravely.

Little Joe was quiet. "Ya mean I coulda died? I was that sick?" His green eyes filled with tears.

"Yes Joseph, had you eaten any more, you could have died. I want you to promise me, before you eat or touch something outside that you're not quite sure about, ask me. Even if I'm busy, or seem upset, ask me. Nothing in the world is worth losing one of my sons."

He hugged Joe close and blinked back tears.

"What if you lost the Ponderosa? It's your world" Little Joe said softly.

"No, son."

"Why not?"

"Because you boys are my world." He hugged Joe tightly, and didn't hear the front door open. Hoss crept in and stood behind his father's chair. He then wrapped both arms around his father and little brother, and laughed at their surprise.

Ben and Joe soon joined in, and the family knew, there would never be any other world for them if they were together.