Rating: PG13, T (mature themes)
Wordcount: Approx. 6,100
Warnings: Deals with the less "family friendly programming" reality of Hannah's miscarriage so potential triggers/sensitivity in that regard.
Disclaimers: See my profile page.
Notes: In my haste to meet my self-imposed posting deadline for Waiting to Exhale, I didn't include my usual plethora of author's notes above chapter 2. I'm going to be making up for that a little bit here…
1) Still on the subject of WtE, thanks so very much for the enthusiastic reviews and comments for the first chapters! I found them incredibly encouraging and inspiring and have actually been writing more and faster than usual these days. That said the burst of creativity also inspired this one-shot so I've been a little side-tracked. So, I'm going to stick with the 3 week intervals but likely bump the posting days to Saturdays or Sundays. It gives Katt more time for last minute betaing and me the same for tweaking.
2) Parts of this story have been milling around in my brain forever but I've resisted writing them down until now. Largely because Cag45 already covered the same ground so very well in her lovely Missing Scene for Winter Roses. I swear, girl, we really do suffer from a severe case of GMTA! But, since the story was still niggling at me, and almost 2 years have gone by since Cag posted hers, I decided to let the muse talk. My awesome friend and beta Pkatt19 had a birthday coming up so, what better excuse to write a fluffy sap-fest?
3) This isn't a fluffy sap-fest… entirely. The story ended up darker than I'd first imagined so, Katt, well, here's your birthday present and, um, sorry it isn't a whole lot cheerier. Happy Birthday! ::wince::
4) Thanks to sknkodiak for stepping in to pinch-beta. Your input definitely helped make this a stronger story. Thanks also to bay5 for the speedy fact-check and all the enthusiasm. As always though, any mistakes are my own.
After the Bitter Season (a Winter Roses epilogue)
by May Robinson
From the episode, Winter Roses…
Winter Roses: like love they survive even the bitterest seasons
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
"Over there," Adam said, pointing west, his relief palpable until he asked, "What the hell?"
Crane's gaze followed the invisible line extending from his brother's index finger to the smoke wafting in the distance and he swallowed heavily. Shit. He should have thought of this.
The McFadden brothers, minus their eldest, had arrived home from the hospital about two hours earlier, reluctant to leave Adam behind but understanding that he needed some privacy to both mourn with and comfort Hannah. Separating had been a hard thing to do – they were used to grieving together after all.
The younger ones were reeling with extreme emotions: the exhilaration of Murphys finally winning the Gold Rush road race with first Adam and then Daniel behind the wheel and, the devastation upon learning that Hannah had miscarried and would remain in County General for a number of days to come.
They'd almost lost their sister-in-law, and Crane would forever be grateful for each and every paranoid, overprotective bone in his body. Wearing the mantle of the family's resident worry-wart was worth the teasing and abuse he frequently endured. At least it was when listening to his gut feelings meant saving the life of one of his family.
They'd suffered an immense loss though. Hannah's joy had been contagious and the miscarriage was hurting them all. Crane had seen it in his brothers' distraught faces as they'd slowly trudged into the house. None of them had wanted to leave Adam and Hannah behind but, ever the caring parent, Adam had insisted they all go home, eat and get a good night's rest.
They'd obediently followed orders, although Crane couldn't even remember what Brian had whipped up for dinner. Leftover something, he assumed. Listless and heartbroken, they'd all pushed their food around their plates with little appetites; all but Daniel who hadn't even come to the table.
Crane's roommate had called dibs on the shower when they'd first arrived home and never came back downstairs, not even when Evan had hollered to let him know the food was ready.
Concerned, Crane had wanted to go up and check on him but, well, his and Brian's hands had been full with the younger boys. Guthrie's barrage of heartbreaking questions had felt endless. And Ford's, though delivered much more pensively, had demanded equal attention.
By virtue of their youth, neither boy really had any recollection of the night they were orphaned. A blessing at times; but it also made the loss of the baby their first experience with a grief they'd always remember. And that meant Brian and Crane had to be there to help them through it.
Evan, already more familiar with mourning and loss, had needed his big brothers every bit as much and maybe even more. Brian and Crane had taken turns trying to convince him that racing with Hannah on horseback a few days before had in no way contributed to her collapse, and that the pregnancy had been doomed from the outset.
Crane truly believed they'd gotten through to the stubborn teenager but there certainly wasn't any victory in it. The kid's face still reflected the pain of knowing that they'd all lost their first nephew or niece.
It wasn't until Guthrie had quieted and they'd settled on the couches – Evan tucked under Brian's arm and their two youngest bookended against Crane – that Crane had noticed so much time had passed without any sign of Daniel. Crane had gone looking then, leaving the rest of the boys to Brian, but couldn't find him.
The open window in Evan and Ford's room had made it perfectly clear the kid hadn't wanted to be found either. It had to have been at least two years since Daniel had climbed out a window and onto the roof of their wraparound porch; swinging down from it to sneak away to a concert or to a bar to check out whichever band happened to be playing. Once he had actually become a member of some of those bands, Adam had finally thrown in the towel. Giving their budding musician the freedom to go with Dad's reluctant consent and, without having to perform any gymnastics moves to make his getaway.
Crane wished he'd had Brian with him when they'd found Hannah passed out on that porch. Not Daniel. Admittedly, he knew he would have had a bigger fight on his hands convincing Brian to go along with him.
Crane shuddered to think about it but, Brian might have even successfully shamed Crane out of leaving the race check-point to go back home. For Hannah and Adam's sakes, and really, their entire family, it was a blessing that Crane's always willing shadow had once again been at his side. Daniel would follow Crane through the gates of Hell.
And to some extent, the poor kid had passed through them today.
Crane should've made Daniel drive. He'd worried that his passionate little brother would drive too fast; take too many chances on their country roads. Daniel winning the race today, though certainly an accomplishment, didn't exactly refute big brother's concerns either. Still, it should have been Crane huddled in the bed of the truck holding a screaming, hemorrhaging, miscarrying Hannah in his lap.
Not their kind-hearted eighteen year-old brother.
Crane had really messed up. Hannah could've died in Daniel's arms. And even though she hadn't - thank-you, God! - Crane knew the ordeal would still leave its mark on Daniel's impressionable soul. Even greater than those staining the blanket and jeans Crane now suspected his little brother was burning in their fire pit up ahead.
When he'd discovered Daniel was missing and had left his guitar behind in their room, Crane had immediately checked the barn. With Gibson still secure in his stall, it became obvious the kid wasn't relying on either of his customary means to deal with his heart-ache. Getting lost in his music or riding flat-out into the hills with Gibby were usually tried and true coping methods for the boy. As was throwing himself into repairing broken-down farm equipment but, after working round-the-clock on Walt's Mustang the past week, Crane supposed even Daniel was too exhausted to pick up a wrench or welding torch. Besides, for once, none of their machinery was busted.
With Daniel on foot, Crane had decided to follow suit. The kid could have headed anywhere but instinct kept Crane on the track-bare road beyond the barn. Not fifteen minutes later, Adam had caught up to him in the Jeep.
"Looking for strays?" The words were light but Crane could see the pain in Adam's pale features and in the slump of his shoulders. The grief in his red-rimmed eyes.
"Just one," Crane replied as Adam idled the Jeep beside him. "Why aren't you with Hannah? Is she okay?" Crane cringed as Adam blanched even whiter and could've kicked himself for the stupidity and insensitivity of that question. "Crap, I'm sorry. I—"
"I know. It's okay," Adam interrupted, saving Crane from sputtering even more nonsense. "She's…" he paused then, shrugging helplessly. "Doc says she's doing fine. Marie and Carey are with her now. The three of them ganged up on me." He shrugged again, looking less lost this time, the tight line of his mouth even quirking slightly into a strained smile. "Sent me home to get changed and… Hannah wanted me to check on you boys; make sure you were all right."
Crane's eyes drifted in the direction of the house. "They're hurting but…" It was Crane's turn to hike his shoulders feebly. What could he possibly say that wouldn't result in hurting Adam? He was a young man who'd just lost his first child, for God's sake. Telling him the boys would get over it in time felt dismissive and outright cruel. But, on the other hand, Adam was already a parent wanting nothing more than to shield his boys from any further heartache. He didn't just want them to be all right, he needed them to be all right.
"Yeah, Guthrie's awfully broken up," Adam said huskily, rescuing Crane this time from falling into a pit of useless platitudes. "I said 'you boys' though," he added pointedly, tears suddenly welling with his much softer, "She doesn't remember much but… she knows what you and Danny-boy did for her. She knows you were there."
At that revelation, one worried searcher had become two as Crane climbed into the passenger seat and they continued along the same route. And with a literal, if unintentional, beacon ultimately guiding them, they'd found their AWOL little brother easily.
The kid wasn't messing around and had quite the impressive inferno going. It wasn't a concern, the fire pit had been used for generations to dispose of junk and refuse from the ranch and the house. It was secure and there was no fear of it blazing out of control.
Adam put the gearshift into "Park" and Crane climbed out his side. Daniel didn't react, possibly not having heard the Jeep over the crackling of the flames. The path was above and to his back too, so Crane assumed the kid might not have seen them pull up either.
At least that's what he wanted to tell himself. Crane knew better though. Danny was either too lost in his grief, standing there with his arms hugging that old blanket to his chest or, he'd heard their arrival and was trying to pull himself together before acknowledging his big brothers.
As he watched Daniel bury his face into the woolen fabric, Crane decided it was a bit of both.
If tossing a blanket into the belly of a blaze could be done reverently, Daniel accomplished it. So effectively that Crane had to fight back the tears trying to flood his eyes.
Caught up in the onslaught of emotions and the urge to get to Daniel and grab him up in a hug, Crane nearly missed his older brother's, "What in the hell is he doing?" Adam sounded both anxious and confused and maybe even a little annoyed as he abruptly took a step toward the slope leading down to Daniel.
"No!" Crane practically shouted, grasping Adam's forearm in an effort to stop him. Adam didn't know what Daniel was burning, or why. And Crane was loath to tell him. His brokenhearted brother didn't need to know those details any more than he needed to watch that blanket burn.
The reluctance and distress must've shown plainly on Crane's face though. Because Adam's questioning eyebrow was soon joined by the other in obvious and dawning understanding. And worse, dread. "Crane, what's Danny burning?" He asked haltingly, sounding young and timid and not like their stoic eldest brother at all.
Crane opened his mouth to speak but no words would come, lodged as they were beneath his bobbing Adam's apple. He tried again, struggling to choke out, "She was in shock, Adam. Losing blood. We—we wrapped her up in—"
Adam's hand immediately shot up to silence Crane but it was his horrified, stricken expression that succeeded first. Comprehension was blatant in Adam's features now; his eyes full and his chin wobbling above his own convulsing throat.
Reaching out, Crane placed his palm against his brother's neck. "You said it yourself. Hannah's going to be fine. You didn't lose her and you're not going to," he tried to soothe, hoping a comforting voice or touch would quell the tremors he felt rippling beneath his hand.
Hunched over now, his hands gripping just above his knees, Adam sucked in a few shuddery breaths, shaking his head and ultimately Crane's grasp. "I know; I know…I'm okay," he said tremulously not to mention wholly unconvincingly. "I just need a second. Go look after your brother."
Despite his desire to get to Daniel, Crane didn't hide the affection or exasperation in his reply. "I am looking after my brother."
That actually earned him a slight chuckle and, when Adam lifted his head, watery gaze meeting watery gaze, he already looked a little stronger and more composed. "I meant the little one," he actually smirked, pointing this time down the grade toward Daniel. "Go on. I'll be right there."
Confident that Adam was finding his bearings again, Crane didn't have to be told twice.
Not wanting to spook Daniel, Crane hadn't exactly made his way down the slope quietly, scuffing his boots in the gravel as he grew closer to the pit. Daniel had to be aware of his presence now but, he still wouldn't turn around or show any indication of it at all.
A slight shift in wind direction had Crane second-guessing his assumption. It was barely a breeze but the acrid stench of burning, wet wool hit him and stuttered his steps. It reminded of a deadstock pile and Crane's stomach churned with the knowledge that Hannah's blood was a contributing cause. God, he really didn't want Adam following him down here. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop him though. Nothing short of a freight-train could when Adam was worried about one of the boys.
Besides, Crane had a more pressing concern now: getting Daniel away from that awful fire that had him so mesmerized.
"Daniel?" He was right next to him now; could see the flickering flames reflected in the bloated tears clinging to his lashes. "Danny, come on. This'll burn itself out; let's get you home."
"I'm okay, Crane," Daniel said almost robotically and, if the boy's broken expression wasn't strangling Crane's heart so damn much, he would've laughed at the carbon copy of Adam's lie from moments before.
"No, you're not." Crane's objection was gentle, as was the grasp on the kid's elbow intended to draw him away from the reeking blaze. "Let's go home."
"No." Daniel pulled away, those wobbly tears breaking free now and rolling down in glistening trails. "I have to do this. She can't come home and see all that blood."
His kid brother sounded as young as he did emphatic and Crane wanted to curse a blue streak. He had no idea how Daniel had ended up in possession of the blanket; could only assume one of the hospital staff had given it to him right after they had separated. Crane had been caught up in his own sorrow when he'd sent Daniel off to Brian's checkpoint. He hadn't watched the boy leave, had turned instead to stare at the doors his unconscious sister-in-law had been wheeled through.
Crane could sense Adam in his periphery now though he was pretty certain Daniel didn't realize their big brother was there. Whether that horrid smell had slowed Adam's progress or he was just holding back allowing time for Crane to get through to the boy, Crane didn't know. What he did know was that he could count on Adam to step in when he was needed.
As if to prove his mission wasn't yet completed, Daniel reached for a long stick resting at his feet and used the makeshift poker to stir up the flames engulfing the blanket and the Levi's Crane had caught a glimpse of through the sparks and flares.
There weren't any hospital workers to blame this time for Daniel having to live with the memory of those bloodstained jeans. "Daniel, that's enough!" Crane didn't mean to sound so harsh. Or to grab the stick in Daniel's grip so roughly either. After all, it wasn't Daniel he was mad at.
"Let go," Daniel ground out, making it emphatically clear that he, on the other hand, was mad at Crane. "Would you just leave me alone? Go play big brother to Guthrie!"
The words stung and Crane released the stick, backing up a step in the process. He wasn't going anywhere though. Daniel was a lot angrier at the world right now than he was at his roommate. And he was hurting even more than he was angry. His words might sound tough but those expressive eyes hadn't stopped streaming. "Danny, please. Talk to me."
Daniel whirled on Crane, the fire in his eyes no longer a reflection of the one beside him. "You want me to talk but you won't listen. I told you I was fine, all right?" Daniel looked hurt and wild and most definitely not fine. And he was still picking up steam. "We've grown up on a ranch, for God's sakes. Pregnancies abort and babies die. You know that. It's no big—"
"Daniel!" Appalled, Crane practically tackled him, grabbing the kid by his upper arms and shaking him hard. Anything to make Daniel stop spewing hurtful words Crane knew without a shadow of a doubt his little brother didn't actually mean.
A choking gasp from Adam silenced the boy instead.
Still in Crane's grip, Daniel's eyes shot to Adam. Crane watched, helpless, as the shock and horror took hold of Daniel and that already hurting, broken expression crumbled. "Oh, God, Adam!" Daniel tried to pull away, his knees nearly buckling from weight Crane knew was borne of guilt. He let go but only with one hand, fearful the kid might actually go down without his support.
But Adam was right there, literally swooping in, and Crane could surrender their little brother. Those strong arms pulled Daniel into his chest, their oldest murmuring "It's okays" and "I understands" into Daniel's hair and swaying from side to side as he squeezed even tighter.
Daniel was inconsolable, barely gulping out, "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean it. Oh, God, I didn't mean any of it," in between hitching breaths.
"I know that, kiddo; of course I do," Adam softly told him, planting a kiss in Daniel's hair before resting his cheekbone in the same spot. "You've got nothing to apologize for; especially not today. You hear me?"
But Daniel clearly wasn't yet ready for forgiveness and he pushed away from Adam. "No," he said miserably. "You don't understand."
He was right. Crane, who usually read Daniel like a grade-school textbook could only shake his head and shrug when Adam looked his way. The question: 'Do you have any idea what's going on here?' plain in his worried eyes.
Daniel's next, self-loathing words solved the puzzle. "I was so pumped though, Adam. After I won the race."
Aw, shit. Crane got it now and, based on the warmth and pride he saw in Adam's shining eyes, their big brother understood the poor kid's baseless shame now too.
Daniel was looking at the gravel and charred earth beneath his feet though so he couldn't see the soft smile Adam shared with Crane. What's more, the boy hadn't yet finished his confession. "I celebrated," he practically spat, raising his head and meeting their gazes again. "God, even though I knew Hannah was in the hospital—that she was losing the baby—I was happy I won." He looked so disgusted with himself, so upset; it took everything Crane had not to just gather him up in his arms.
But Daniel didn't need Crane's comfort, he needed Adam's absolution. Even though there wasn't anything to absolve.
Adam would know that too though so, when he sighed heavily and stepped forward, clamping his hands on Daniel's shoulders, Crane had faith that big brother would say what Daniel needed to hear. "So, you think being happy that Murphys finally won the Gold Rush, with you crossing that finish line first, makes you a bad person?"
Daniel's eyes were riveted on Adam now. Nodding his head, he barely whispered, "Well, yeah."
"I guess that makes me and Hannah bad people too then, huh?"
Crane couldn't help the grin quirking his lips even as Daniel sputtered, "What? No! Of course not, but—"
Adam's hands lifted to either side of the kid's face. "Daniel, I mean it now… you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Hannah is so proud of you, boy, and so am I." Crane watched as Adam none-too-gently hauled their kid brother in for another hug and rested his chin atop Daniel's head. Meeting Crane's gaze, Adam continued, tears threatening to spill. "I'm so grateful to you both. Grateful for you both. You two had my back all day… even when I didn't know it and needed it most… and no one more than you, Danny-boy. Right down to those roses and that blanket, no one more than you."
A sob followed Adam's heart-felt words but Crane couldn't be certain of its ownership. It'd be easy to assume it belonged to the eighteen year-old smothered in Adam's hold but, then again, after the loss Adam had just suffered, he was more than entitled to it as well. Mind you, in that tangle of arms – because big brother did make a grab for him and drag him into their embrace too – the culprit might well have been Crane. Lord knew he felt like bawling.
Or maybe there were a few sobs. Of various vintages.
Yeah, that was more likely.
Crane wasn't sure how long they huddled together like that. He'd immediately decided that he was staying put until their youngest started to pull away first and, since Adam wasn't budging either; he figured Dad was of the same mind.
It couldn't have been all that long and Crane was fully expecting Daniel's teenage bravado to make an appearance any time soon.
Right on schedule, the kid extricated himself out from their arms and promptly asked Adam, somewhat incredulously, "What are you even doing here?" He looked better now, more together, even as he still appeared too damn young, wiping at eyes undoubtedly stinging from both tears and smoke.
Adam shrugged, answering with basically the same response he'd given Crane earlier, "Hannah kicked me out. Sent me home to change." He left out the part about checking up on them and Crane was absolutely fine with that. Daniel could slip into guilt just about as quickly as Adam could. It was best not to let him think Adam had abandoned his hospitalized wife on his account. The kid was far from stupid though and was looking awfully skeptical. Adam must've seen it too because he abruptly hooked an elbow around Daniel's neck and announced, "C'mon, let's head back to the house. I still need to change clothes."
It wasn't far up the incline to where they had parked and the three of them climbed it in silence, Daniel still under Adam's arm and Crane compelled to stay close too, his shoulder almost brushing Adam's.
When they reached the Jeep, Daniel spoke up again. "Who's staying with Hannah?"
Adam leaned against the front fender, looking wistful with his response. "Marie and Mrs. Barrett got there before I left. I figured she could use some women around, especially Carey."
"Why? Hannah barely knows her?" Daniel asked, too young - as was Crane for that matter, though somewhere along the line he'd been made aware - to remember Carey and Tom's own heartbreak and numerous failed attempts at having a baby. Their daughter Jenny, born to the older couple just twelve years ago, was their miracle. Even if she did drive Guthrie absolutely crazy.
Adam heaved a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. He looked wrung out and too drained to answer. Crane was more than willing to step in. Though he was answering Daniel, he looked deliberately at Adam. "Because Carey Barrett's living proof that Hannah's got plenty of reason to hope. To believe she'll have a baby someday."
"Yeah," Adam agreed gruffly before reaching across and lightly patting Crane's face. "That pretty much covers it." Despite the renewed shine of tears in their older brother's eyes, Crane knew that Adam was pleased with his explanation.
The kid's reply was a simple, "Oh," but Crane could see the wheels turning and wasn't surprised when Daniel admitted, "I didn't know… I guess I never really thought about it before." He looked up at Adam then, his face a worried mask. "Is Hannah gonna be okay?"
Crane watched as Adam flexed his jaw, tamping down his grief or maybe his own uncertainty, before taking in a steadying breath. "Aw, Danny, she's feeling awfully blue but… yeah, I think with time she's gonna be fine."
"What about you? Are you gonna be okay?" Daniel sounded so much like Guthrie there. So young and earnest, and so damn vulnerable, it hurt.
Crane had a feeling Adam had heard it too; the tight lines in his face softening especially as he carded a hand through Daniel's hair and reeled him in against his shoulder. "I'm not gonna lie to you, kiddo; it hurts. It hurts a lot. But I know something Hannah doesn't; something she probably isn't ready to hear yet; but I know is going to help her get through this."
Crane could see that Daniel was curious but, for some reason he wasn't asking. Despite their big brother's assurances that the kid's earlier outburst hadn't hurt, Crane imagined Daniel was treading lightly, afraid to impose or say something wrong. Crane, on the other hand, didn't harbor the same reticence. "You wanna let us in on it? Maybe if we know, we can help?"
"You already have. Already do," Adam replied pretty damn cryptically, despite the affection written all over his face. He knew he was being evasive too; the light huff of laughter as he took in two confused faces giving him away. Addressing Crane, he asked, "Do you remember the time Mom pulled you out of class to go that piano recital in Sacramento?"
"Sure, of course I do." Despite the fact he'd been only nine years old, Crane remembered the trip well and fondly. Their mother had been pregnant with Guthrie, though he hadn't known it then. They had taken the bus from San Andreas up to Sacramento. It was a weekend away with just him and his mom and, at the time the trip had been a thoroughly fun adventure for them. Too few years later it became a memory he'd cherish forever. Still, "What's it have to do with Hannah?"
"I'm getting there," Adam replied with a hint of tetchiness before continuing his tale. "So, while you were up there being the golden child" -Crane wasn't sure what to think of the smirk Adam wore right then— "I was down here being a jackass with Dad."
"How do you mean?" Daniel was rapt, clearly delighted at the prospect of being told a never before heard story involving their father. And Crane had to admit he was just as enthralled, as well as intrigued, especially since he evidently played a role in it.
"Yeah, well, I'd asked him if I could take off that Friday right after class and head up to Oak Hollow to go camping for the weekend with Mike and Hoops and some of the older guys from the team." Adam sighed then and shook his head. "Dad gave me a flat-out 'no', said there was too much work to do around here."
"And?" Crane asked, really wanting to know.
"And I threw a shit fit for the ages."
Though there was self-mockery and amusement in Adam's tone, Crane could sense the underlying regret that Daniel, grinning now and fully captivated, had clearly missed. "I thought you always toed the line with Dad?"
"Most of the time but, I really wanted to go. Hell, I don't even remember what the big plan was… just a bunch of stupid underage jocks wanting to get loaded and act like cavemen, I suppose." The bitterness was definitely coming through this time and even managed to extinguish Daniel's smile. "Ah, hell; we were courting trouble and Dad knew it." His eyes landed on Crane first and finished on Daniel as he explained, "I was pissed though; gave him grief about Mom pulling you out of school that weekend and about how she'd started taking you to talent shows."
Feeling suddenly on the defensive, Crane countered with, "Well, what about all the school you and Brian missed because of sports?"
Adam shrugged, lifted his hands in a "What can I say?" gesture before finally answering. "Like I said, it wasn't exactly my finest hour. Or my most rational. I even bitched to Dad about you two not having to do as much around here as we did at that age."
Daniel looked completely bewildered at that and even a little hurt. Crane reached over and drew him away from Adam hooking the kid under his arm instead. "That's hardly fair. We were half your size!" It was true. Brian and Adam had been miniature brutes as children but the same couldn't be said for the subsequent McFadden sons, not even Crane whose growth-spurt didn't come until well into his high-school years.
"I know that," Adam agreed softly. "But, I guess I just needed to get some crap off my chest and I had it in my head that you two were getting preferential treatment, especially from Mom."
Crane practically sputtered at that, promptly responding with, "I assume it didn't take Dad long to set you straight about that."
"Yeah, he did," Adam said with a peculiar grin. "He told me I was right."
"What? Oh, come on, Adam," Crane objected. "That can't be true."
It couldn't be. Their parents hadn't been the kind to pick favorites. Adam and Jeanne McFadden had loved their kids equally and unconditionally. Admittedly, there had been times he'd felt Adam and Brian had monopolized their father's time.
"No, hear me out… this is the important part," Adam insisted, reminding Crane that somehow this suddenly unsettling trip down memory lane had something to do with Hannah.
Crane turned to Daniel whose expressive face was reflecting turmoil; confusion and trepidation in his eyes. Above that though, the kid looked desperate to hear more. Anything at all about their parents to help feed that never-sated hunger they all had. For Danny, Crane would relent and let Adam have his say. "Okay. We're listening," Crane said guardedly.
Adam nodded once, his voice growing strained when he asked, "You two know that Mom had a couple of miscarriages over the years, right?"
"I think so," Daniel answered a little hesitantly. "I'm pretty sure someone told me but—I mean, I guess it kind of seemed to figure."
Crane knew Daniel was referring to the spans of years between sons two and three and sons three and four. The topic was definitely out of the boy's comfort zone even at the best of times but, after what he'd endured today with Hannah, Crane could tell his unease was quickly being overtaken by sorrow. To combat that, Crane decided his only response could be a matter-of-fact one and sincerely hoped that Adam wouldn't be upset by it. "Right; there was one after Brian and then another between us two."
"Two… after Brian," Adam told them, hiking a shoulder before adding. "Carey just told me that today, outside Hannah's room."
"Wow," Crane said, immediately wincing at the wrongness of that response. He hadn't known and apparently neither had Adam. What this had to do with Adam's story was still a mystery though.
"Yeah, I know." Clearing his throat and then again a second time, Adam took his time to regroup. Crane wasn't about to push him. "And that made you two our 'might never have beens'. At least that's what Dad said Mom called you boys."
Daniel let out a small choking sound and Adam stepped forward, lightly brushing his knuckle along the contours of the kid's face. "Yeah, he said, if it hadn't been for those miscarriages, you two might never have been who you are." Smiling softly, Adam continued, "See… Brian and I came real easy for them and, before we could even walk, Dad had kinda claimed us…carted us around on horseback, on the equipment—"
"Daddy's little buckaroos," Crane remembered. Back then, he'd been a little jealous of his two big brothers; never able to keep up with them. Now though, the term made him smile warmly.
It made Daniel outright giggle.
Adam turned quickly, his index finger waving under Daniel's nose. "Don't you even dare think about repeating that, small-fry!"
This time Daniel snorted, not seeming to mind Adam's use of his old nickname at all. The snort earned him a glare though and Daniel bit down on his lower lip, kept his teeth imbedded there until the rest of his amused features followed suit and settled down.
Crane fully expected Daniel to say something smart-alecky once he regained his composure but, not all that surprising come to think of it, he promptly returned to Adam's story instead. "But aren't all of us really 'might never have beens'? I mean, leastwise the ones born after Brian?"
Crane could see where Daniel was coming from… the miscarriages had impacted not just the order but the actual existence of all those that followed. But Daniel was thinking uncharacteristically with his head and not his heart. Crane thought he understood what their mother had meant, was sure he had it right when Adam gently responded with, "Maybe so. But… you're the two that came after her heart was so badly broken. The two that helped ease that awful pain."
A reflective silence followed until Daniel softly whispered, "We came after the bitter season." The words so poetic and moving Crane couldn't help but wonder which song they had come from. It wasn't one of Daniel's. Though heartbreakingly beautiful, the lyric wasn't familiar.
Except for some reason Adam seemed to recognize it. "Yeah, you did," he breathed, closing his eyes briefly as he tugged lightly on Daniel's jacket. "Just like our baby will," he said mostly to himself.
Their oldest was tearing up again. At least it looked that way through the watery veil covering Crane's eyes. Adam continued talking though; his sad smile a reflection of his words. "After what happened today I really get it now… why Mom wasn't quite so willing to send you boys off with Dad."
Despite the longing in Adam's voice, Crane still smiled. He had a feeling that things would be different with Adam and Hannah's firstborn. Oh, sure, Adam was going to love having a little tagalong around. But, more likely, the baby was going to keep Adam closer to home instead, and brother number three was going to have to get used to spending more time in the saddle again. Seeing that joy in Hannah's face once more, and Adam's glowing pride, would be worth it though.
Thinking of Hannah and not wanting to keep her husband away any longer, Crane gave Daniel a nudge. Nodding his understanding, the kid vaulted into the back seat. "Hold on a minute, are you saying we were 'momma's boys'?" The question an obvious effort to lighten the moment. It worked and Crane couldn't help but chuckle just a little.
Adam actually did too, lightly elbowing Crane's side before using his long reach to attack the kid's hair with a lot more gusto. "If the shoe fits, Danny-boy. If the shoe fits."
"Hey, I'll take it over 'Daddy's little buckaroo' any day," Crane said wryly as he made his way over to the driver's side and climbed in. But even as he voiced that thought, another quickly supplanted it. One that, in spite of - or, maybe even because of - the day's heartache, was parting his lips into a smile.
He turned to look at Daniel behind him. In the waning light he could still see remnants of that despair pooled in his kid brother's eyes. But, as light hazel met dark, he saw something else too… a sparkle of mischief forming. Yeah, they were on the same wavelength.
"What?" Adam asked suspiciously as he settled in beside Crane.
Crane started up the Jeep and revved the engine. When Adam and Hannah had their first son - and they were going to have kids of their own, Crane simply refused to consider otherwise - that little boy was going to be in desperate need of a nickname. One worthy of his lineage. "I can see it now…" he said, warmth filling his heart even as he felt a sparkle of tears prick his eyes, 'Little Buckaroo Junior'."
Daniel broke into a beaming grin and Adam promptly threw Crane a scathing look that screamed 'Never!' But Crane could tell his big brother wasn't truly annoyed. The fusion of hope, pleasure and pride in his shining eyes told Crane otherwise.
And, best of all, his belief.
.
The End
