Hello again. Sorry this took so long but real life got hard right around the time I lost touch with my beta.

As luck would have it, I finally found a new one just as things started to get better.

So, here is the (long awaited) next one-shot in my series.

I big thanks to Foxcat93 for their fast beta work and to 1monster2 for their encouragement and help getting this story written. You're both awesome. :)

DISCLAIMER: I could not afford to own the Ponderosa even if Ben Cartwright was willing to sell.

Hoss climbed off his horse, following his father into the general store. Jars of colorful candies caught the teen's eye, but the barrels of delicious wafers were too tempting to ignore. With only two pennies to spend, it was a hard choice.

"Here, son," Ben smiled, handing over a few extra coins. "And don't forget to pick something out for your brothers too."

"Thanks, Pa," he grinned.

Hurrying over to the display, he quickly selected a few treats for Adam and Joe before filling a few bags with his own sweets. After gathering nearly twice the amount he would have usually been able to afford, Hoss moved onto the wafers. Taking a handful for the trip home, he popped one in his mouth and brought his purchases over to the register.

"Did you leave any for anyone else?" Charlie joked from behind the counter.

"Ah, he's just celebrating a little early," Ben replied, clapping the teen on the shoulder. "After all, you only turn sixteen once."

Hoss smiled at his father, but it faltered when he heard the whispered voice behind him.

"Good thing too, otherwise we'd all run out of sweets."

Glancing back, Hoss caught sight of Robert Porter. They had gone through school together, but had never been friends ... and the other boy's comments had just reminded him why. Robert had never had a nice thing to say about Hoss, or any other Cartwright for that matter. Still, he and his buddies seemed to find Hoss a particularly good target for his ridicule. Best to just ignore him ... or at least that was what his father always said.

"So, Hoss," Ben started, going over his supply list. "We have all the decorations. What kind of cake would you like for your party?"

"A big one," Robert snickered before Hoss could open his mouth.

Hearing the other boy's hushed laughter, he tightened his fists. He would have had it out with them right then and there, but he stopped, seeing who had just entered the store. Susie Blanchard had just walked in with Hilda Coleman and Susan Perkins. Blushing when Susan looked his way, Hoss turned back to the counter and concentrated on his bags of treats, praying that none of the other teens saw his reaction.

"Hoss?"

"Uh ... sorry, Pa. What did you say?"

"What kind of cake do you want?"

"Oh ... uh ... I don't know. Any kind, I guess."

"Might wanna get two, so the rest of the guests can have some."

Closing his eyes against the taunts, Hoss sucked in his breath. As much as he would love to knock that smug look off Robert's face, he couldn't do it in front of Susan. She was a lady and probably wouldn't like seeing him do that ... but then he heard her laugh. Was she laughing at what he said? Did she think ... Looking down at the sweets in the bags in front of him, Hoss pushed them aside.

"I don't really want a cake, Pa," he muttered. "Let's just forget it."

Without giving Ben a chance to answer, Hoss headed back out to wait with the horses. He took a minute to examine his reflection in the window, frowning at what he saw. A big and fat, ugly ox. No wonder Susan had laughed at him. It was a wonder that the rest of the town didn't.

"Hoss?"

He made his way back over to the wagon, climbing into the seat next to his father. He kept his eye on the horses and they set off for home, Robert Porter's insults replaying in his mind. Maybe if he stopped eating so much, cut himself off from sweets, maybe then Susan would like him. He was startled from his thoughts when a sack dropped into his lap.

"You forgot those in the store."

Not bothering to open the bag, Hoss set it behind him with the rest of their purchases. If he were going to lose weight, candy was the last thing he needed. He would let Joe have it, or Adam. Heck, Ben could eat it for all he cared. But he was not going to take a single jelly bean until he was small enough to stop the mocking ... no matter how long it took.

"Hoss," Ben started softly. "You can't let those boys get to you."

"I ain't Pa," he insisted. "I'm just not that hungry."

"I see. And do you think you will get hungry between now and the party?"

Hoss shrugged, not really wanting to lie again, and the rest of the trip was made in silence. His father just wouldn't understand. Ben Cartwright had always been fit and slim, just like Adam. Even Little Joe was the right size for his age, Hoss was the only oaf in the bunch. Fact was, he could eat a whole cake by himself. He could out eat anyone in town, even men twice his age. He couldn't help how hungry he got or how much food it took to stop that hunger. How could any of them understand what it was like to be like him?

*P*O*N*D*E*R*O*S*A*

Joe looked over the wooden structure as Adam attached the final piece. The long arm pointed straight up, ending in a spoon shape above a wide base. A funnier looking thing he never did see.

"What's it supposed to be?"

"It's called a catapult," his older brother explained. "Back in the days of knights, they were used to smash the walls of enemy castles."

"That little thing?" Joe scoffed. "It barely looks big enough to knock down a house of cards."

"Well, this is just a model. The ones the knights used were bigger than the barn."

"You're joshing me. Ain't no way they could've dragged something that big into a fight, not with a hundred horses."

"No harder than pulling a stage coach, those ones were on wheels," Adam stated on a matter-of-fact tone. "So, you ready to see how it works?"

Joe nodded eagerly, listening intently as his brother explained the mechanics behind his machine. He helped push down the bar, locking it in place, before loading it with a paper ball.

"Ready?" Adam grinned, crouching behind the machine.

"Ready."

Adam tugged on a short rope, sending the ball sailing through the air. Unfortunately, the paper boulder fell short and only made it as far as the sofa.

"Not very good."

"We just need to find something heavier," Adam reasoned.

"Like a rock?"

"Well, that would work, but it also might break the house," he said before snapping his fingers. "I got it! Go get one of those cakes from the kitchen."

"Me?!" Joe exclaimed. "Why don't you do it?"

"Because ... I'm older."

Before he had a chance to protest further, Adam took him by the back of the neck and pushed him toward the kitchen. Scowling at his brother, Joe tiptoed inside. He didn't see their new cook, but the Chinese muttering told the boy that he was nearby. A row of small cakes sat on the table, already cooled and frosted. Inching forward, he reached toward the one on the end-

"Hey! What you doing?"

Joe nearly jumped out of his skin at the shout. He turned to see one irritated Chinese man wielding a wooden spoon. He knew he had to think fast, before their cook found another use for the utensil.

"I-I only wanted a taste. Honest."

"Hop Sing already tell you. Those for Mr. Hoss, to pick one for party. Not for Mr. Joe."

"Come on, Hop Sing," he tried to reason. "Pa probably ordered a cake in town. You don't even need these."

"Mr. Cartwright only order cake because he no try Hop Sing's. Change mind when Mr. Hoss try these. Now go. Go!"

Shooed out of the kitchen, Joe was forced to return to his brother empty handed. Just as he expected, Adam had the catapult already locked and ready to fire.

"Well? Where's the ammunition?"

"Where do you think? A field mouse couldn't get past Hop Sing."

"You think that's why Pa hired him? To keep us boys out out of the pantry?"

"Does it matter? We still aren't getting any cake."

"Maybe," Adam said thoughtfully, looking toward the kitchen. "Maybe not. Tell you what, I'll distract our cook, you grab the cake."

It sounded reasonable, or at the very least better than his last plan. So, while Adam complained about the way the duck tasted the night before, Joe managed to sneak one of the cakes into a napkin. Seeing that his pocket was too small, he had to hide the treat behind his back as he slipped out of the room, signaling his brother along the way.

"Hop Sing tell you. You no eat duck. You eat chicken!"

"I'm sure you'll find a way to fix the problem next time. Thanks Hop Sing."

Pushed forward by Adam backing out of the kitchen, Joe rushed over to load the catapult. The cake fit nicely into place, all they needed was a target. He was just about to ask Adam how well cake would come out of sofa fabric when he heard the wagon pull up outside. The sound gave him an idea and his grin shifted from the model weapon to his brother. Based on the near evil gleam in Adam's eye, he had the same idea and the two moved the catapult so it sat opposite the door. Ducking down, Joe gripped the rope as the silhouette of his middle brother came into view ...

P*O*N*D*E*R*O*S*A

Ben pulled a crate of supplies off the back of the wagon, handing them over to Hop Sing. His newest hire was rattling on about the boys and dinner, though he honestly only understood about half of it. However, his mind wasn't on any of it. If he could just find a way to reach Hoss, make him understand that he didn't have to change himself for anybody.

"Hop Sing tell him that we no have duck, but number one son no listen-"

"Hop Sing, do you think you can tell me about this later," Ben sighed. "I have other things on my mind right now."

"Ah, the party," he nodded. "Hop Sing make up special cakes for Mr. Hoss to try."

Ben grimaced at the suggestion, knowing how sensitive the subject of cake was for his middle son. The way that boy was feeling, the mention of cake might be enough to push him over the edge. But before he could warn the cook, the sound of a commotion came from the house. Hurrying inside, Ben was almost knocked over by Hoss running the other way. He turned to follow, but a shout from Adam stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Pa! Pa, come quick!"

Feeling torn, Ben somewhat reluctantly rushed into the house. His heart almost stopped at what he saw. Cradled in his brother's arms, Little Joe lay motionless on the floor. Shoving aside the pieces of broken wood, Ben crouched beside him, checking to assure himself that he was still breathing. Thank God he was. Pulling out a handkerchief, he tended to the gash on his youngster's head before looking into the bruised face of his eldest.

"What happened?"

"Hoss is what happened," Adam spat, fire in his eyes. "Little Joe played one little prank and he almost killed him!"

"Now, you and I both know Hoss would never willfully hurt Little Joe."

"Didn't he? He sure knew where he was aiming when he smashed that catapult into his head."

"The what?"

"It doesn't matter, but when I get my hands on him-"

"Let me worry about Hoss," Ben stated firmly. "Now, get Joe up to bed and ride into town for the doctor."

Though Adam looked as though he wanted to protest, a small moan from his brother seemed to change his mind. With Little Joe in good hands, Ben headed outside to take care of his other hurt son. He found Hoss in the barn, sitting in the hay beside one of their ponies. Remnants of cake and frosting gave him a pretty good idea of what the "little prank" entailed.

"How bad is he hurt?" a shaky voice whispered.

"Little Joe is going to be fine," Ben answered honestly, pulling a stool over to sit in front of his son. "Adam is riding out for the doctor."

"I … I didn't mean to hit him so hard."

"I know, son."

"It's just … I got so angry. I'm sorry."

He looked up, tears filling his blue eyes, and Ben's heart broke. He reached out to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Little Joe is strong," he assured him gently. "It will be alright."

"No it won't," Hoss grumbled, dropping his gaze. "Pa, you didn't see Adam's face when Joe hit the floor. I thought … he looked like he was gonna kill me."

"He was just angry," Ben reasoned. "He'll get over it."

"No," Hoss shook his head. "Robert Porter was right. I'm just a big, dumb, ugly ox who can't do nothing but eat and cause trouble."

"Now I am getting tired of repeating myself on this," Ben snapped. "Don't pay attention to anything Robert Porter says, today or any other day. You are who you are and no amount of cake is going to change that. Now why don't we get you cleaned up, then we can look in on Little Joe?"

Hoss nodded, but by the slump of his shoulders none of his words had had any effect. Words. They were at the root of all of this. A few words, meant as a cruel joke, had resulted in tearing apart his family and hurt each one of his sons. He almost wished he had ridden after the doctor himself, so that he might have a chance to give that Robert Porter a piece of his mind, but his boys needed him right now. All of them.

P*O*N*D*E*R*O*S*A

Adam leaned against the door of the barn, fist clenched at his sides. That was why Hoss had snapped. It wasn't what he and Little Joe did, it was Robert Porter. He had never gone to school with Hoss, but Adam had been aware of the bully since the day his family rode into town. Even after all these years he was still giving his little brother trouble. Well that was going to stop, and it was going to stop right now.

"Sam," he called to their foreman as he pulled himself up on a black mare. "Joe's hurt. I need your horse to get the doctor."

"Sure thing," the middle age man replied.

He said something else, probably an offer to help, but Adam didn't pay attention. He rode hard and fast, not stopping until he reached the doctor's office. Pounding on the door, he quickly relayed the information to Dr. Martin before heading back to his horse. But instead of following the doctor back to the ranch, Adam went the opposite direction. He still had one more stop to make before leaving town-

"Adam!"

Reining in his horse, he looked around to find the source of the call. Susie Blanchard was waving him down across the street. She looked upset and Adam couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with his brother.

"What's wrong Susie?"

"Adam, have you seen Hoss?"

"He's back at the ranch," he answered simply. "Why?"

"I saw him in town earlier and he seemed … well, sad really. Is something wrong?"

Though his first instinct was to answer with a firm yes, Adam stopped himself. If Susie had seen Hoss, she might have seen or heard something else. Something that may give him a few answers of his own.

"It might be," he replied honestly. "Where did you see him?"

"In the general store."

"Did you see or hear anything that might have upset Hoss?"

"Well," she paused to think. "Robert Porter was there with a few of his friends, but Hoss never let them get to him before."

Well, that confirmed his suspicions, but also brought up a valid point. Hoss had been dealing with Robert's taunts for years, why would today be any different? There had to be something else.

"Who else was in the store today?"

"Let's see … your father, Charlie, Hoss, Robert, Nathan Dalton, Gregory Westlin … they're all I can remember. Oh, and of course me, Hilda and Susan."

"Susan Perkins?"

"Yes. We were looking for new ribbons to wear to the party."

Now it made sense. Hoss had been sweet on Susan for a while, not that he had gathered the nerve to talk to her yet. If she had heard what Robert had said … Hoss would have punched him in the face. But that wasn't what happened.

"Did you hear Robert say anything to Hoss?"

"Honestly, we didn't hear Robert say anything at all. We were too busy laughing at Hilda. She can make a joke out of anything."

And that one carefree comment made Adam's mood go cold. Susan had laughed. It didn't matter what Robert had said, Hoss had heard Susan laugh. That was why this time was different and that was why his brother was hurting. He thought Susan saw him the same way Robert did. Somehow he was going to have to change that, but he wouldn't be able to do it alone.

"Susie," he started slowly. "Robert made some … comments about Hoss in the store today. When you laughed, he-"

"Thought we were laughing at him," Susie gasped. "Oh, poor Hoss. He must feel terrible! Would you talk to him? See if you can make him understand?"

"I'll do what I can," Adam promised. "But you need to do something for me."

He quickly filled her in on his plan and she hurried off to set it in motion. With that taken care of, he still had a stop to make and this time Robert Porter would be the one listening.

P*O*N*D*E*R*O*S*A

Hoss glumly sat on his bed, his tie in his hands. Try as he might, the party was still on and he could already hear guests arriving. Trouble was, he wasn't in the mood to celebrate anything. Sure, Joe was up and about again, having suffered from only a minor concussion, and Adam's bruises were not as bad as they had first thought. Even so, Hoss hadn't been able to look either in the eye over the last few days. And if he couldn't face his family, how could he face their friends?

"Hoss?"

He looked up to see Ben slip into the room, but quickly dropped his eyes back to his tie. As much as he appreciated his father's advice, he just wasn't in the mood to hear it.

"You need any help with that?"

"I'm not going to the party," he mumbled, tossing the tie on the nightstand. "You all just have a good time without me."

"How can we when the guest of honor is shut up in his room?"

"Pa, I know you're just trying to help, but … it just ain't gonna do any good. I've made up my mind and I'm staying here."

"Well," came a voice from the door. "That's sure going to disappoint a lot of people."

Hoss glanced up to see both his brothers in the doorway and quickly looked away, muttering to be left alone. As usual, Adam and Little Joe ignored him and came the rest of the way into the room. Sometimes, they were as bad as their father.

"Come on, Hoss," Little Joe prodded. "If you come downstairs I promise I will only throw things at Adam from now on."

He couldn't help but chuckle at his youngest brother's vow, but the feeling was fleeting. As good as it was to know that Joe didn't hold anything against him, he still couldn't let go of the guilt that came every time he saw the healing cut on his head. He had hurt him, worse than anything Robert ever did.

"Little Joe," he whispered, looking the boy in the eye. "I coulda killed you."

"You coulda, but you wouldn't," he smiled, taking a seat on the bed. "It was a bad day. You don't need to beat yourself up about it."

"But … how can you just forget something like that?"

"Because you're my brother."

The statement was made just as firmly as any order but was filled with all the warmth of a summer day. Hoss looked into the faces of the rest of his family and saw the same love and forgiveness that shone in Little Joe's. Tears filled his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. With people like them around, suddenly even Robert Porter's words didn't sting so much.

"You know," Adam started thoughtfully. "You aren't the only one who needs forgiveness here."

"Yeah," Little Joe agreed, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Sorry for hitting you with the cake … even though it was Adam's idea."

"Now wait a minute-"

"I think," Ben interrupted, rising to his feet, "that maybe all of us share some of the blame for what happened a few days ago."

"You too?" Little Joe gaped.

"Yes, me too," their father confirmed. "I've thought of a dozen things I could have done to prevent it, same as all of you. But as Joseph has shown, we are family. That is far more important than any prank or mistake. Agreed?"

Hoss nodded with the others, feeling better than he had in days. But when the sound of laughter floated up the stairs, that pit dropped right back into his stomach. The thought of all those people down there looking at him … at the size of him.

"Hoss?" Ben called gently, tilting his head toward the door. "You gonna come down?"

"I don't think so, Pa."

"Why not?" Little Joe groaned. "We said we were sorry, you said you were sorry, even Pa said he was sorry. What more is there?"

"Besides that," Adam interjected. "If you don't come down, what am I going to tell Susan Perkins?"

"Susan Perkins?" Hoss questioned, suddenly finding it hard to breath. "S-She's here?"

"Of course she is," Adam smiled. "And she asked for you straight out. Won't dance with a single other boy until she has the first one with you."

Hoss attempted to wrap his head around what he had just heard. Why would Susan be asking for him? She thought that he was a big ugly ox … didn't she?

"She would have told you herself in town," Adam continued. "But she got so caught up in Hilda's jokes that she didn't notice anyone else in the store."

"You mean … she wasn't laughing at me?"

"Oh, Hoss, is that what you thought?" Ben asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. "She was clear on the other side of the store. There was no way she could have heard those things he said about you. And even if she had, a nice girl like Susan wouldn't have laughed at it."

"I guess you're right," Hoss muttered, feeling stupid for thinking such things. "Thanks Pa."

"Hold on," Little Joe frowned. "What things who said about him?"

"Leave it be," their father ordered, ushering the youngest toward the door.

"No, I want to know who said what about Hoss."

"Joseph, I said leave it be."

"But Pa-"

The argument continued down the hall, leaving Adam and Hoss shaking their heads. It was probably for the best if Little Joe didn't know the truth about what happened, he wouldn't stand much chance in a confrontation with Robert. However, Adam seemed to have a pretty good idea of what went on. But who told him?

"Here," his brother offered, picking up his tie. "Let me help you."

"Thanks," he said, standing to his feet. "Hey Adam?"

"Yes?"

"How did you know what happened in the general store?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. In fact, I don't think you need to worry about Robert Porter at all."

"Why's that?"

"Well, he's going to be so busy that I just don't think he'll have time to be hassling you."

"Yeah?" Hoss narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Busy with what?"

"Dealing with his new nickname," Adam grinned, flexing his hand. "Toothless."

Hoss laughed long and loud at that one, clapping his brother on the back as they made their way downstairs. Despite all the guilt and pain he had been feeling over the last few days, this was shaping up to be the best birthday he ever had. And he owed it all to his family; the ones who always said they were sorry and never really had to.

So, what do you think?

Let me know while i send the final story in this set to my beta.

UP NEXT: "The Meaning of Faith" featuring Ben Cartwright