A few weeks later...

Fred was out in the pasture herding sheep. A flock about 10 or 20. Fred was laying in the middle of the pasture, with the sheep all around him, and his six year old mind was wandering. "I wish I had somebody to play with, instead of herding these sheep!...Dumb sheep."

"You stupid sheep! All you ever do is stand there and eat grass!...What do you do all day? Nothin'!" Fred said out loud and a sheep or two just looked at him with a blank expression in their eyes. "You guys even look stupid!" "This is sooooooo boring!...I hate sheep. Dumb, dumb,...stupid sheep." Fred thought.

"I'm so bored!" He said rolling over on his stomach and playing with the grass. He was picking up each blade of grass and breaking it into little, tiny pieces. After a while, he got up and went walking, not too far from the herd of course. He came along a plow with some loose nuts and bolts on it. "Oooooo...This could be fun!" Fred thought, unscrewing the nuts and bolts. He began to clear a small place in the dirt and began playing with the nuts and bolts to pass the time. Every now and then, he'd look up at the sheep. "Still standing there...Doing nothin' at all!...Oh, who cares about some dumb old sheep! I'm havin' fun right now!" He thought and went back to playing again. He played for hours and hours and hours until he saw two black lace-up shoes and the hem of a dark green dress standing in front of him. "What do you have there, boy?"

Fred looked up and saw Mrs Beck. "Ummmmm...Some nuts and bolts."

"And where did you get those nuts and bolts?" She questioned harshly.

"From the plow..." He said quietly.

Leah Beck stood there, glaring at him, with her hands on her hips. "You did. Did you?...Go get the whipping strap, boy."

"Well, I guess I deserve this one..." Fred thought as he went inside to get the strap. He walked to the barn and then faced yet another beating from Mrs. Beck. He then went into the house and went up to the loft. He wasn't told to. He just wanted to. So he could be alone. Hours later, he heard Mr. Beck coming up the ladder. "You hungry, son? Supper's ready." He asked, taking a seat on the bed next to him.

"Yes sir." Fred said, but sat there and layed his head on Amos' shoulder. "Why do ya call me, son?...You're not my real Pa." After two whole years of being with the Beck's, it dawned on him that Amos had been calling him, 'son'. Not 'boy' like he had been and what Mrs. Beck called him.

"Well, I know that...but I'd like to be your Pa...if you'd let me." Amos said, putting his arm around the boy.

"Should I call you 'Pa'?" Fred asked, looking up at Mr. Beck.

"Now,...you do that on your own time..." He said.

"Okay." Fred said.

"And if you feel comfortable with calling me Mr. Beck, then that's ok too...Now c'mon! I smell one hearty supper waitin' for us downstairs!" With that, they both climbed down from the loft and took a seat at the table. The table was all set, thanks to Leah, of course, and she took a seat next to Amos at the table. Fred was across the table from them. All three of them bowed their heads and Amos prayed, "Our dear Heavenly Father...Thank you for this wonderful food that has been prepared for us. Bless it to our bodies, Lord, and please give us many more days to enjoy on Your wonderful earth...Amen."

Fred sat there silently as they began to pass different foods around. Amos helped himself to some pork chops, drizzled with gravy. He served himself a generous portion of green beans, and also grabbed a sour-dough biscuit. He passed it on to Leah who helped herself and passed it to Fred.

"Good meal tonight, Leah." Amos said, enjoying a pork chop.

"Did the boy tell you about your plow?"

"What about my plow?" Amos asked, with a puzzled look on his face.

"Ask the boy." She said, "Just ask him what he did to it! He'll tell you."

Amos glared at his wife. "Leah...that's enough." He looked at Fred, who was looking very guilty. "Can you tell me what you did to the plow, son?"

"No need to discipline him,...I already did." Leah spoke up.

"Leah!" His voice was stern. He looked back at Fred.

"I ummm...unscrewed some bolts and nuts that were on the plow and played with them."

Amos laughed. "Is that all?...You had me worried there, son!" He said, and ruffled the boy's blond hair. Fred smiled. He was beginning to like it that Mr. Beck was calling him 'son'.

"And you're letting the boy off with that!...You're not going to do anything?" Leah said angrily.

"And why not?...You said you disciplined the boy already." He glared at her.

"Ummm...why, sure...Of course..." She stammered and became quiet alomst at an instant. Amos glared at his wife. "Leah...Meet me outside...We need to talk." Amos got up from his seat, and layed a gentle hand on Fred's shoulder, who flinched again at his touch. "Finish your supper, Fred..."

"Yes sir." Fred said, shoving a mouthful of green beans into his mouth. Leah walked outside and Amos followed her out. They both walked out well into the yard. Amos leaned his hands against the fence. "How long has this been going on?" He angerly questioned.

"What in Heaven's name are you talking about?" Leah snapped.

"You know what you've been doing! Don't try and deny it! You, I and God all know that you've been beating the boy!"

"I'm disciplining him!" She said sharply. "The Bible says, "Spare the rod, spoil the child..."

"Discipline is one thing...What you're doing is beating the child! You're abusing the boy, Leah!...I've seen the bruises and I've seen the scars on his back!..." He was so angry, he was breathing hard. "He flinches when I try and lay a hand on him! He must think I'm gonna beat him too! Thanks to what you've done to him!"

Leah was silent and so Amos spoke again.

"It stops...Here and now!" He leaned on the fence on his elbows. "I don't understand it...I just don't understand it at all...Why would you beat a child like that?...You never used to be like this..."

Leah stood there and looked at her feet. "...The woman I married many years ago was a kind, loving woman named Leah Josephine Knoddler,...what happened to her is what I want to know..." He said, lifting up her chin with a curved finger, so her face met his.

"I don't know..." Leah began.

"You know..." He interrupted her. "Is it because he isn't..." Amos began, but Leah already knew what he was about to say.

"Well, what do you think, Amos!" She yelled and began to weep. "Of course that's why! Because I couldn't give you a baby!..."

Amos looked concerned. "Sugar...that's no reason why..."

"Do you have any idea at all how that made me feel?...I felt worthless Amos! Worthless! I couldn't give you a son to help you work the fields! I couldn't give you anything! No daughter,...no son!" Tears spilled down her cheeks.

He walked towards her and held her in a tender embrace. "And you think that mattered at all to me?...Leah, I loved you anyway! I still do!...That's all in the past and we can't change it!...Plus,...you aren't getting any younger." He chuckled.

Leah gave him a look. "Neither are you,...you old goat!" She said, tapping his chest. They both started to laugh, and he pulled her in for a hug. Amos smiled down at her. He was hoping Leah would finally warm up to the boy.

A/N: Fred's beating for playing with the nuts and bolts from an old plow he found, was true...