For Pa

Joe Cartwright watched as his beautiful wife stepped back from the table where she had just placed the beef roast his pa had delivered in preparation for cooking. She didn't know he was watching. Alice was still in her night dress. Her hair was down like he liked it, and fell in a glorious wave to her shoulders. When he'd married her, she'd been a tiny little thing. Now she was blossoming.

With his child.

A smile curled the edges of his lips. He was going to be a pa. How amazing was that?

He remained where he was watching the woman he loved with wonder. His own pa and his brothers had thought he'd never settle down, even though he'd been the one who had been engaged, it seemed, a hundred times. There was something special about all of them, but his pa had always told him that when the 'one' came along, he'd know it.

Joe smiled and blew out a little breath. How could a man want more?

Alice jumped and turned toward him. A smile lit her face. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough," he laughed. Walking over , Joe took her in his arms. He kissed her and then kissed her belly. "Hello, little one," he said softly.

Alice's hand went over his. "That's your Pa speaking," she added. Then she looked at him. "Do you know what today is?"

Joe shook his head. "No."

"It's Father's Day. Your first one."

Alice Cartwright stood looking out of window. Night had fallen and Joe was out working in the barn. Outside the wind was howling. Lightning split the sky and the thunder boomed in reply. Joe had worked for his pa earlier in the day. He had such a way with horses that Ben always wanted him when a new batch came in. Today they'd been breaking some of the wildest ones. Alice's lips curled with amusement. Her husband wasn't getting any younger. Already there were more scars on his body than seemed possible. She'd told Joe that breaking horses was a young man's game and that a man who was going to be a father needed to stop taking unnecessary risks. He hadn't listened, of course.

That's why she loved him.

The pretty blonde turned to look at the clock on the wall. It was well past six. The aroma of the roast cooking permeated the house. Joe had come in about four, but insisted he had a few things that had to be tended to before he could eat. He'd said he would be about an hour. Of course, he had no idea how much she wanted to get to supper. He had no idea that, beside his plate, was a small box – a box that contained the watch she had bought him. He might think her daft, but it was something she had wanted to do. It was inscribed.

For Pa. From your wife and child.

A strike of lightning made her jump. It was so close the thunder came right with it. Frowning, Alice rose and headed for the door. Joe had told her not to come out into the weather, but she was going to anyway. Pulling on her hat and tossing a cloak about her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped out.

The barn had been hit. Part of it was on fire.

Alice gasped and ran toward it through the pounding rain even as another bolt of lightning struck close by. The door had been struck and blown into a hundred pieces. The horses were whinnying and snorting like they had a rattlesnake under their feet and small animals were pouring out. The blonde woman paused, hesitant – no, terrified to go in. They'd been married such a short time.

Would God let Joe die?

Alice's hand went to her abdomen. Could she raise a child alone? Could she...continue without him?

Moving closer, she called out, "Joe? Joe, are you all right?"

A second later he appeared in the door, his eyes wide and wild. "I'm fine. Get back in the house!" he ordered "I'll be in as soon as I am able."

"Do you need help?"

He had started to turn away. Joe halted and looked back. "I need you safe. Go in the house."

The roast was burned to a crisp. The house smelled like the air outside. Alice sat at the table in Joe's place, her fingers turning the box that held the watch. It had been over two hours. Joe had the fire out. The horses were stabled and the smaller animals corralled again. Still, she hadn't seen him. After her husband's strict order, she was not going to go outside, and so she waited.

Finally, the door opened. Joe stopped as he stepped inside. She had had no idea. Apparently, he had been near the door when the lightning struck. His face and arms were covered with scratches where the wooden missiles had hit him. He was completely drenched; his clothes stained with mud and blood.

He looked exhausted.

Alice rose from her chair and went to him. Joe looked at her and then fell into her arms. She walked him to the settee and sat him down and then went to get the whiskey and a cup from the shelf.

By the time she got back, he was asleep.

Turning, she caught a throw from the back of a chair and tossed it over him. Sitting beside her husband, she checked his wounds. As none of them were too deep, she let him sleep.

As Alice sat there, staring at this miracle God had given her, her hand once again went to her child. In spite of everything – the lightning, the fire, the fact that Joe could have died – she smiled.

"You've got quite a pa, little one," she whispered to the babe inside. Then she leaned forward and gave her handsome husband a kiss.

"Happy Father's Day, Joe."