Remember

– March Round-Up Challenge –

by smp4ever

Sweat drenched and bleeding, Joe trudged through the unforgiving terrain, hoping help would be nearby. Squinting through a crimson blur from his head wound, Joe thought he made out the shape of a house just over the ridge. 

You can make it, Joe. Keep moving.

He dragged his leaden body, legs buckling and lungs tightening. Every inch forward felt like a mile. With a final blast of energy, Joe clawed his way toward the porch of a farmhouse. 

He gasped, “Help me!” The sound of a creaking door opening was the last thing Joe heard before his world went black.

Curls dangled down a little boy’s forehead as he hung over the arm of the sofa. He stared at the strange man lying there. The guy’s twitching nose and fluttering eyes mesmerized the four-year-old. Little legs swung back and forth as the lad inched closer. Feeling hot breath blowing on his face, Joe’s eyes snapped open. He was nose to nose with a little intruder. A loud groan escaped Joe’s lips, sending the curious boy scurrying.

A woman’s soft cadence filtered through Joe’s pain and foggy brain. Blurry vision made it difficult to see who belonged to this tender voice. A goddess-like image seemed to float towards Joe. Her long, wavy, blonde hair swayed with every step. 

“I must apologize for my prying child. I was just beginning to prepare breakfast. If I don’t keep both eyes on him, I might find him in the chicken coop, up a tree, or in the creek. He is impulsive and very rambunctious. 

“I’m sorry if he disturbed you. How are you feeling this morning? You have a nasty gash on the back of your head.”

Joe blinked several times, attempting to unblur his vision. The woman sat down on the coffee table next to the sofa. Seeing her up close, Joe found himself lost in her sparkling hazel eyes.

“Young man, I asked if you were alright.”

Finding his tongue, Joe answered, “I’m sorry. I feel kind of groggy and sore all over, but okay if I don’t move.”

The sweetest giggle filled the room. 

“How did you get injured?”

“I’m still in a fog, but I’ll do my best to explain. The horse I was riding had recently been broken; that was my first mistake. He was still a bit skittish, but doing okay until a mountain lion’s scream tore through the air. It startled the horse and caught me unprepared. The colt reared up and bucked, sending me flying through the air. I must have hit my head when I landed. I just remember the thud. Everything is fuzzy after that. I can’t tell how long I was out, but when I woke up, the horse was gone. I began walking, and here I am.”

“What was your second mistake?”

“Letting the stupid horse throw me!”

A smile spread across this angelic face.

“Did you say this morning?” How long have I been here?”

“I found you crumpled on the ground by my front porch yesterday afternoon. Fortunately, since my husband and two other sons are away for a couple of weeks, a family friend happened to stop over to check on me and my boy right before you, ahem, dropped in.”  

Beautiful and funny, but married, Too bad! Ah heck!

“Pete insisted on being my protector, but honestly, I am very independent.  Besides, the man makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. I don’t know how his sweet wife puts up with him. 

“What do you mean?”

Shaking her head she said, “Oh nothing. He’s harmless; just has roaming eyes.  Anyway, I’m grateful he showed up when he did. Pete helped me carry you inside and settle you on the sofa.  Then he had to leave, so I got you cleaned up and changed. My husband’s nightshirt is quite big on you but it’ll do until your clothes dry.”

Joe broke eye contact; a bright crimson flush crept up his cheeks.

“Don’t blush. I’ve seen it all before. Remember, I have a husband and three sons. I did look in your pockets to see if I could find some papers.  Nice to make your acquaintance, Joseph Cartwright.  We named our youngest Joseph, also. Speaking of, he’s being much too quiet.  Let me go find him. Then we’ll have breakfast.”

Joe lay there wishing he’d been awake while she was washing him. 

Stop, Joe, she’s married. 

The quiet came to an abrupt end when a crying child emerged covered in flour, being  carried at arm’s length.  Joe had to stifle a giggle.  The toddler’s mother tried to hide a smile, too. 

Joe couldn’t resist, “I’ve never seen a little ghost with curly hair.” 

 Both adults laughed and the boy’s crying turned to giggling.

Looking at the beautiful lady, Joe said, “You know my name.  What’s yours?”

“Mary,” she said, as she whisked away her toddler to put him in a tub of water. 

Ten minutes later, a flour-free child reappeared.  Mary followed with a soft-boiled egg and a cup of coffee for Joe. She slowly propped him up to make eating easier.  Joe’s world was still spinning a bit; he wasn’t that hungry. 

“Let’s see if you can keep this down.”

“I’ll try.” 

The littler Joe sat eating his porridge.  Most of it found its way into the four-year-old’s mouth.

“You know, your little boy reminds me of myself when I was his age.  If you talked to my pa, he’d probably tell you I’m still the “im” words:  impetuous, impulsive, imprudent.  I guess there are some things you never outgrow.”

“Well, Joe, we’re all IMperfect.”

There’s that sweet giggle again. 

“You told me you have a pa, any other family?”

“I also have two older brothers.  My mama died before I turned five. Seeing you with your son makes me miss her.”

“Rest now, Joe.  I promised my Joseph I’d play outside with him.  I think it’s my turn to be an Indian.”

Each day Joe improved.  He wasn’t one hundred percent, still tiring, but was able to do chores and play with the miniature of himself.  The two Josephs chased after each other and played hide and go seek.  Laughter echoed throughout the property.  Mary had to smile watching them in action.  With Joe helping out, Mary no longer wanted Pete stopping over.

“Pete, it’s not necessary for you to come over anymore. Joe’s here to help me.  He’s almost completely healed and my family is expected back home in a few days.  We’ll be fine.  Thank you.”

Pete smiled, but Joe could sense the man wasn’t happy. 

Time was going so quickly.  A sadness came over Joe, realizing he’d be leaving tomorrow. Big Joe and his little Joe were working in the barn when a scream cut through the air. 

“Stay here, little buddy.”

Joe charged toward the house.  A shot barely missed him.  Mary was as calmly as possible talking to Pete. 

“Pete, you don’t want to do anyone harm. You love my little boy.  Put the gun down before someone gets hurt.”

Joe quickly crawled low to the floor while Mary kept Pete distracted.  Fury filled Joe, seeing Mary’s dress torn off her shoulder. Like a wild cat, Joe leaped and tackled Pete, wrenching the gun from his hand. Fists flew.  A powerful left hook connected with Pete’s jaw.  Up in a flash, the man swung around and landed a punch in Joe’s gut.  Loud grunts filled the air.  Joe repaid the last blow in kind, and followed with a quick one, two.  Pete’s face contorted; his rage exploded. The bigger man pulled Joe into a chokehold.  He was out for blood. Mary dove down and grabbed the gun. In a deadly, low voice, she said, “Pete, I’ll drop you where you stand.  The crazed man hurled Joe against the wall and then made a sudden move for the weapon.  Joe lunged for the heavy pitcher.  In one fluid motion, he bashed it across Pete’s temple.  Like a sack of potatoes, the man crashed to the floor. Joe quickly tied him up, although he knew Pete would be out cold for a while. 

“Joe, are you okay?  I seem to be asking you that question a lot lately.”

“Yea, Mary, I’m fine.”

“Mama, Mama!”  The terrified little boy bolted into the kitchen.  Little feet and fists began pummeling the man on the floor.

Mary pulled her son away and squeezed him tightly. 

The little Joe choked out, “Mama, you’re gonna pop me like a blown up paper bag.”

Joe and Mary erupted into laughter. 

Wagon wheels were heard pulling to a stop. 

A radiant smile spread across Mary’s face. 

“My husband and boys are home a day early!”

The little boy jumped from his mother’s arms and charged outside. 

“Papa!” 

The man picked up his small child and tossed him into the air. The toddler squealed with delight.

Joe and Mary came outside to greet the rest of the family.

Joe’s face paled and his eyes widened. 

“Pa?”

“Merci mon cher, mon amour, mon petit Jo . Until we meet again,” Mary lovingly said.

**********

“Mama! Pa!”

“Ben, he’s coming to!”

“Son, I’m right here!”

Joe’s eyes fluttered open. He looked aghast at his father, breathing in short, gasping breaths. 

“What is it, Joe? Try to calm down.”

“I was with her.  I was with Mama and myself when I was four.”

“Doc, what’s going on?” Ben pleaded. 

“Joe has a nasty gash on the back of his head.  He took quite a blow when the bronc threw him to the ground.”

“Pa, I’m not crazy.  I was with me as a child and Mama, just like I’m with you now. I know that sounds insane, but I was there. A bad man attacked Mama. It sent me into a rage, but I was there to save her.”

Joe was getting more agitated. 

Ben placed his hands on his boy’s shoulders.

“Joe, yes, something bad did happen when I was away with your brothers. A man I thought was a friend deceived me. One of the hands heard your mama scream and prevented a terrible thing from happening.”

“But, son, you were only four.  Injuries to the head can do strange things to the mind.”

“But, Pa, it was so real.”

“We’ll talk more. Paul has to leave now.”

“Young Man, no bronc busting for you until I tell you, and that won’t be anytime soon. Understood?”

Joe didn’t respond. He just closed his eyes. 

“Ben, keep him calm and in bed for the next two days. Get me if you need me, but I’m not anticipating any complications.”

“Bye, Doc. Thanks. You know your way out.”

“I wish your son was a banker!”

Ben half-heartedly smiled. Then he sat down next to Joe. 

“Pa, I know you always say don’t look back, especially not in anger. I agree. 

Maybe I was just thinking back to when something bad happened. I think I’ve been angry with you without realizing it — mostly because you weren’t there to protect me and Mama when we needed you.

But, honestly, Pa, remembering back is good.”

“Holding pictures in our minds and hearts of the people we love is very important . Don’t ever lose that, Joe. Let anger and hurt go, but keep the joy and love alive.”

Ben stroked his son’s hair, showing understanding in his eyes.

With a crooked smile on his face, Joe said, “You know, Pa, I was a cute, curious, funny, and rambunctious kid.”

“What do you mean, was? You can add to that, impetuous, impulsive, imprudent…”

“And imperfect?”

“All of us are that, Joseph.  No, the word I’m thinking is important.  Important is what you are to me!”

Father and son shared a knowing smile.

Joe’s smile shifted to a sly look. He said, “I really do understand why you fell in love with my mother, Pa.”

“Oho? Maybe I should hear more of your story.”

“I need to rest now.”

The End