Prologue - March
Hannah McFadden stood at the front door and waited. It took some time for a tall, familiar figure to emerge. He opened the screen and seeing her, shook his head. He glanced behind him and stepped out onto the small porch.
"Why are you here?" His voice was gruff and unfriendly.
"No kiss?" She asked.
He sighed. "Look, Hannah, this has nothing to do with you. It can't be fixed, okay? I know you want . . ." He glanced away from her. "Look just go home, alright? Take care of the other boys."
"Nothing to do with me? He's broken-hearted and so are you. I haven't once bought that damn tough-guy act of yours. What about me? Huh? You just leave. What am I supposed to tell Guthrie? What am I supposed to tell myself?" She stood with one hand on her hip staring up into his dark eyes.
"Guthrie is nearly fourteen years old! He doesn't need babying!" He shook his head in frustration. "Why'd you have to come here? Why can't you just leave it alone?"
She didn't hesitate but put her hands on his arms and peered up into his face, "Because you're my brother, Brian. Because I love you."
"Go home, Hannah. Take care of Adam, forget about it. I'm fine. I don't need . . ." His voice grew harsh and he pushed her hands away. "It's ridiculous! I'm twenty-seven years old! I've got a right to my life! It's about time I left home and made my own way. I'm sick to death of that damn ranch! You've got it under control." He turned his back on her ready to go back inside.
"You do have a right to your own life and you have carried it long enough. But not like this, Brian. Don't leave like this. I know you fellas can work it out. Please."
He didn't turn around but said simply, "I'm sorry, Hannah. I am, but I can't . . ." He paused thoughtfully. "But it has nothing to do with you, okay. I don't want you thinking that you stirred anything up. We are all really luck that you came, and it makes this easier knowing they have you too. This is an old, old fight. Sometimes I think it goes all the way back to the cradle." He glanced at her then. "Thanks for coming out. Thanks for trying. I appreciate it, Sis. I really do." He stepped inside the darkness of house. "I'll send word to you." Then the door closed and she was left alone on the porch feeling the sting of a cold March wind that promised rain.