You were nearly lost within the pages of your favourite book when you heard hoofbeats pounding against the dirt outside the cabin. Setting the book aside tenderly, you lifted the hem of your skirt and hurried to the window. Your husband was riding in from having spent the day working in the pastures.

You grinned and headed for the front door, flung it open with a protesting squeeeeak of its hinges, and rushed outside to meet Hoss as he dismounted from his stallion.

The tall man nearly stumbled backwards into you, having lost his footing in the stirrup as he climbed down from Chub's back. You only just managed to catch him by his broad shoulders and turned him gently to face you.

"Welcome home, love." You nudged back the brim of his white ten-gallon hat and stood on your tiptoes to give your gentle giant a kiss.

"Hey, darlin'." His usually chipper, energetic voice came out hoarse and husky, as he looked down at you with tired baby-blue eyes.

You blinked, studying his glowing red face and the perspiration dripping from his brow. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm just worn out from moving the herd to the other pasture this afternoon." Hoss swept the ten-gallon hat from his head and brushed his forehead with his wrist. "How are you doin'?" He leaned down to your height and tilted his head to peck your lips.

"Well, I'm fine." You responded, and hesitantly avoided his reaching lips, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. "But you're certainly not. You're so warm." You extended a hand to press to his glistening forehead. It blazed beneath your touch. "Love, you're sick."

"Naw. I'm fit as a fiddle." The rancher's son took your hand from his forehead and pressed a shaky kiss to its fingers, then proceeded to stumble past you into the cabin he shared with you.

You followed him inside, eyeing him suspiciously. He set his hat on the coat rack next to the front door, lumbered over to the couch by the window, and flopped back into the cushions. He almost didn't realize he was sitting on your book and tossed it dazedly onto the coffeetable. You knew that he was usually so careful with belongings, especially yours.

Slowly, you moved to sit beside him. "Fit as a fiddle, are you?"

"Yep." Hoss leaned back and propped his feet upon the coffeetable, closing his eyes. His chest rose and fell heavily. He was nearly panting.

You scowled and smacked the cushion with a single, fierce thump. "Rubbish! You're ill, and that's that. You didn't take your coat when you left out this morning, did you? I tried to tell you that that breeze would get the better of you."

Hoss sighed deeply, but neither opened his mouth to protest nor turned to meet your gaze.

"Hmm." You shook your head ruefully. "You're too stubborn for your own good, you know?"

He didn't answer. You watched him recline for a few moments. Through the silence, you realized you could hear him, ever so softly, groaning with each breath he took. His fever was surely worsening.

"Lie down." You commanded, rising from the couch and taking him by the arms.

He exhaustedly acquiesced to your light yet insistent tuggings, and changed positions to lie on his back, with his head propped up against the arm of the couch. As long as his legs were, he took up the entirety of the couch. You found a pillow left tossed on the nearby rocking chair and tucked it behind his head, then took the blanket from the top of the couch and draped it across his trembling body. "Now, you rest, while I make some soup."

He grunted slightly in objection, but you gave a small shhh and hustled into the kitchen to begin cooking.

Some time passed, and you had warmed up a soothing broth. Inwardly, you attempted to plot out the best course of action to put Hoss on the fastest route to recovery, going over as much as you could remember of the things your mother would do when you and your siblings fell ill. Outwardly, you tried your hardest to follow the recipe as accurately and efficiently as was possible.

You nearly dropped your cooking utensils when you heard Hoss's sudden coughing fit from the other room.

You swooped back into the living room in a flurry of skirts, doing your best not to spill the carefully cooked concoction within the bowl. "If only you had just taken that coat…" You mumbled softly and extended the bowl of steaming soup towards Hoss carefully, waiting until his large hands were secure around the porcelain before releasing your grip.

"I should have." Hoss cleared his throat, finally getting his coughing under control. He forced out a small chuckle, though the warm smile that might have accompanied it was missing. He blew on the soup weakly, finding himself out of breath even after only a few short puffs. "Now I gotta lay here all useless while you do everything for me."

"You're not useless." You pulled the footstool over to beside the couch and sat near him. "You're ill. You need to rest as much as you possibly can. The more you rest, the faster you'll recover." You put on a reassuring smile and stroked a few fingers lightly across his forehead, which continued to sizzle under the contact. "It's only for a little while."

"Yeah, but I don't want you havin' to do all the work all by yourself around here." Hoss continued, frowning slightly at himself. "You're bringin' me soup and blankets, and keepin' me company, on top of havin' to clean and cook and look after the horses."

"Don't be silly. I'm strong and tough. I can handle it." You grinned down at him, desperate to bring the shimmer back to his beautiful eyes somehow.

Those pure blue orbs stared up into yours for several moments. Finally, Hoss shook his head slightly and chuckled a little more strongly, while at last a faint smile appeared upon his flushed cheeks. "Yeah, you're right. I reckon I owe you an apology for underestimating you."

"Apology accepted." You kissed his forehead. "Now, drink your soup."

"Yes, ma'am."

A few minutes passed as Hoss sipped steadily at the broth. On an ordinary day, it would have taken him no time at all to finish his supper. He was a man of enormous appetite. Now that he was sick, however, he had lost that appetite, and it had almost been a challenge for you just to convince him to take the soup. You played with the lacy hem of your dress anxiously, hoping and praying that his recovery would come swiftly.

Once you reemerged from your thoughts, you noticed that your gentle giant had fallen fast asleep. The empty bowl lay perched atop his slowly rising and falling stomach. The blanket spread across him had been pulled slightly over his nose. His throaty snores came from beneath the fabric.

You couldn't resist a smile and took the bowl. You would return it to the kitchen for a duly-placed washing, but you didn't stand immediately. Instead, you gazed down upon Hoss's sleeping face with overwhelming affection.

You had met the rancher's son roughly two years prior. You had come from England to Nevada to meet with your father, who had arrived there earlier to inspect some silver mines he had invested in. Hoss Cartwright had been close friends with one of the miners and had been on-site when you the two of you met. You hadn't been entirely certain you were fit to remain in the rough, dusty wilderness of the West, and had nearly made the decision to return to your hometown across the ocean. If you had done so, you would never have had the chance to fall in love with this kind man, nor would you have had the chance to marry him and build a cabin with him here on the Ponderosa.

"But," you reprimanded yourself in a whisper, so as not to wake Hoss, and stood from the footstool. "Let's not get caught up in what might have happened." And you made your way back into the kitchen to finish the dishes.

Several mornings later, you had woken early, taking care not to disturb Hoss, who was still asleep, and walked outside to tend to the horses.

Chub, Junebug, Paiute, and Pepper all trotted up to the fence when they saw you approach. Their pointed ears twitched and their dark eyes blinked at you expectantly.

"Yes, loves." You laughed, intrepreting their expressions. "I've got breakfast for you. Don't give me those eyes."

You poured the bag of feed into their trough at the edge of the fence. Chub plunged his muzzle into the trough, eagerly chomping down. Paiute nickered disapprovingly and seemed to nudge Chub aside, wanting a share of the feed. Pepper and Junebug seemed to glance at each other, as if to say, "Ugh. Boys.", and went on to patiently wait for the moment when the two stallions would begin to back off and bicker and the mares could have their turn.

You placed your hands on your hips, shaking your head in amusement at their antics. Then, you heard the door to the cabin swing open, its hinges squeaking loudly.

You turned to see Hoss standing in the doorway. He grinned hugely and made his way over to you, slowly but surely.

"Hoss?"

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hoss! What are you doing out here?" You rushed to his side. "And without a coat! Again? Have you forgotten that you've been battling a fever this entire time? Hoss Cartwright, you march right back into that cabin this instant or I'll—"

You were interrupted by his lips pressing ardently against your own. You nearly pulled away, still angry with him and knowing that you were susceptible to whatever sickness he had been fighting, but suddenly you didn't care. You hadn't been able to kiss your husband for days due to his illness, and now that he was offering you the chance, you found yourself unable to resist. You rested one hand on his shoulder and cupped his thick jawline with the other, kissing back just as eagerly.

Hoss pulled away after a few moments. "Thank you, Y/N."

"Hmm?" You blinked up at him, mildly dazed. Kissing the man you loved would always serve to render you speechless.

"I'm all better!" He exclaimed delightedly, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, lifting you up, and twirling you around. "It's 'cuz of you, YN. You took mighty good care of me."

"Oh!" You squeaked, wrapping your arms around his neck desperately until he returned you to your feet. "You… are? Really?"

"Yep!" He grinned even wider. Then, his eyes began to twitch strangely. "Uhhhhh… mostly." He stumbled dizzily from the spinning.

"Whoa, big guy." You removed your arms from his neck and wrapped them around his torso. "You are feeling better, I can tell. But not completely." You turned to guide him back into the warmth of the cabin.

"Maybe you're right." Hoss sighed, smiling sheepishly. "But I know I will be, real soon, if I have you here lookin' after me." He gazed down at you as you walked close at his flank.

You glanced back up at him, your knees weak to see the shimmer returned to those beautiful eyes. "Heh… yeah. What would you do without me?" You gave him a small, teasing nudge.

"I have no idea." He leaned down towards you again for another kiss.

An abrupt growling noise interrupted the moment.

"… was that your stomach, love?"

"Uh… yeah, I reckon it was." Your husband swallowed somewhat embarrassedly. "I, uh… I don't… 'spect you have any more of that good ol' soup left over?"

You patted his back with a smile. "I'll make some more right away."

And no sooner than you had finished cooking the soup had Hoss downed an entire bowl and asked for seconds. His enormous appetite had returned—a sure sign that things were on their way back to normal.