Another fight.
Joe sat in the barn and nursed a blackened eye. The twelve-year-old had not meant to get in a fight at school. It had just happened. The boy was talking about his mother in a not so nice way. Well, Joe didn't remember his mother but he did remember what his pa had told him.
She had been a breath of fresh air. He said she was always walking around the house humming a tune or mending clothing his brothers always wore out. He said she would read to Adam at night and make funny noises for Hoss so he would go to sleep.
Joe pulled out the picture he had been given. She looked back at him with his eyes, green as the ocean and pure as his heart. Her hair was dark in this picture but his father and brothers said it had been blond at one point, darkening as she aged.
He couldn't remember a thing about her. Not the way she held him or the way she spoke or the way she sung. He couldn't remember a thing.
So why had he attacked the boy?
It was pure principle. No one should talk about a person's mother that way, dead or alive, especially not dead.
He had run home from school as quick as his little legs could take him, taking refuge up in the loft in the barn as soon as he hit the ranch. No one would dare to look from him here. Many would look for him at the lake. His mother liked it down there and so did he but at the moment he didn't want to be found. He wanted to sit and sulk.
He looked down at his bay. The horse had been a gift from his pa on his birthday. Now he would be taken away from him. That was how the rules went around the house. If he was bad, he had things taken away until he could prove he could be trusted with them. This was no exception. There were countless times when he had had his things taken away when he fought with his brothers.
He wasn't sure what time it was, but by the way the sun was resting he could guess it was closer to dinner time.
"Little Joe!" he heard his father call and he shrunk back in the loft. "Little Joe, it's time for dinner!" There was a pause as his father waited. "Joseph!"
He didn't reply which meant he was going to get it when he went inside. But he didn't want to face his pa. He was certain he had heard about the fight.
A few moments later, he heard footsteps in the barn. He stayed still and waited for them to go away. They didn't. Instead, they got louder and louder until he heard them on the ladder. Joe hid on the other side of a hale bale that had yet to be torn apart and waited. Whoever it was sat down and made a loud sigh.
"Adam, have you found Little Joe?" he heard his pa ask from the doorway.
Joe's ears perked. Adam had been gone for two weeks on a trip to San Francisco for their father. those two weeks had been bad for Joe because he had gotten into three different fights and Pa had said he was gonna get it if he got in another one. Joe had wished Adam had been there.
Ever since he could remember, Adam and he had fought and had fought hard. Adam was twelve years older than Joe and got all the perks. He had gotten to stay up later and go out on his own. He got to drink coffee first too. When they fought, it was about meaningless things, mostly because Joe thought it was unfair that Adam got to do more than he did.
But in between all those fights, Adam was also the one who was first to come running when Joe was in trouble. He remembered one time his horse had gotten spooked and sent him tumbling. He hadn't been able to move because the wind had gotten knocked out of him. It wasn't but a few minutes that Adam had come riding up. He had jumped off his horse Sport and scooped him up, cradling him gently until he had gotten back to the house. It was a special moment between the two of them that neither ever forgot.
Joe didn't move as silence filled the barn. He couldn't risk the chance that his pa would find him.
"Joe, I know you're in here."
He knew that voice so well he couldn't help it. He jumped from behind the hay bale and into his brother's arms. Adam's laugh rumbled under Joe's ear as he enclosed his youngest brother. Joe inhaled his brother's scent deeply. It was so familiar; his cologne and pine.
"What did you do, Little Joe?" Adam asked quietly as he rested his chin on his brother's dark head.
"I got in a fight with Billy McCaw." Joe replied.
"What about this time?"
"He said something about Ma." He sniffled this time.
"Oh, Little Joe." Adam lifted his head and pushed his brother away so he could look at him. Joe refused to meet his eye. "You can't fight everyone because they talk about your mother. You know that."
"But he said my ma didn't love me." Tears swam in Joe's eyes as he looked at his brother.
"Listen to me, Little Joe. Ma loved us all equally, but she had a special place for you because you were her flesh and blood. You look so much like her." He ruffled his brother's hair. "Come on. Let's tell Pa now and then I'll talk to him to make sure he doesn't go too hard on you."
Joe nodded. Adam climbed down and he followed. He ran to catch up to his brother. As they went in the house, he hid behind Adam as he opened the door. Even though he knew it was going to be okay, he wasn't taking any chances. Not when it came to Pa.