Dedication: For faithful friends gone, but still in our hearts. And for M.

Author's Note: I used to wish I had some magnificent skill or riches that I could shower over my friends in their time of need. But the only thing I was ever good at was making up stories. Once you pass third grade, writing stories loses some of it's street cred. I could imagine a world in which I could offer this strange and seemingly useless skill as a gift, and then one insomnia filled night I took a left turn on the web. And so, devoid of riches, rare talent, or super powers, I offer this and hope it is a balm.

OLD DOG

Daniel was working on the tractor, again. It frustrated him to no end that every single time he put the tractor back together again, a different part of it broke. He sighed, and rolled out from under the old Farmall. He supposed he ought to be grateful that his father had bought such a rugged old machine. It had been a well-used machine when he had purchased it, and now decades later, it wasn't any surprise that it needed a tweaking from time to time. Daniel sat with his head tilted back soaking up the late September sun. He rested his hands on his bent knees, just sitting still and quiet for a long moment. If he concentrated hard he could remember working on the tractor at his father's side.

"She's a faithful old tractor, Danny. But like any woman, she will quit on ya if you don't throw some loving her way from time to time." His father grinned at him.

"That why you bring Mama flowers sometimes?"

His father's deep laugh echoed in the old, musty barn. "Sometimes, but mostly I bring her flowers because she's surrounded by boys. She needs pretty things."

He wished beyond anything that he could hear the sound of his father laughing again - for real - not just tucked away in some memory. He sighed wondering if there would ever come a time when the past wouldn't cause such a deep ache in his heart. He had been just nine when they'd laid his parents to rest. In just one year, he would have lived more of his life without them, than with them. He'd been thinking of that lately - with his nearing nineteenth birthday, the scales would tip the other way; away from a life with his parents.

A rustling sound in the distance diverted him from his dark thoughts. He remembered what Brian had said only that morning - that there were some pretty bold coyotes that had nearly walked straight into the Hansen's barn. He glanced all around until he pinpointed the sound which was just to his left. A pair of chocolate brown eyes met his. Daniel exhaled relieved. The dog, lowered himself on his haunches and eyed Daniel nonchalantly.

Daniel whistled low and soft and the dog cocked his head to one side before moving slowly closer to where Daniel still sat. He was medium sized with mottled brown fur. He was definitely a mutt and appeared to be a stray. He neared Daniel and he held out his hand as the dog sniffed him.

"Where did you come from, pal?" He asked. There was no collar, and although the dog appeared thin, he didn't seem to be malnourished. Of course, a dog could do pretty well going from ranch to ranch. He rubbed the dog's fur affectionately, scratching behind his ears.

"Don't get any ideas, buddy. Adam's dead against us getting a dog." He shook his head. He still was annoyed by his oldest brother's unreasonable stubbornness. They'd always had dogs to help work the cattle. Any self-respecting rancher had a couple of good cattle dogs. They'd had three when their parents were alive, the last one had died just before Adam had started high school. His father had brought home two Australian Shepherd puppies the next year. Victor Hugo and Lightening. Crane had named Victor Hugo, and Ford had named Lightning. They had lost Lightning while he was still just a pup. He had gone to close to a the horses. He was always playful, and no doubt was hoping to play a game with the big animals. They no doubt had tried to avoid the energetic pup, but he'd been crushed all the same. Victor Hugo had been an amazing and faithful cattle dog. Their father used to joke that they ought to just send Victor Hugo out for round up. He followed their father wherever he went. Victor Hugo had sat by the back door for six days straight after their father's death; waiting. After that he wandered from room to room listless until one day, he wandered out the door and disappeared.

They didn't get another dog.

He glanced at the mutt who looked up at him with brown eyes that begged for a warm corner in the barn and a full belly. He sighed feeling conflicted. He understood why Adam didn't want a dog, but . . . He scratched behind the dog's ears.

"I really can't have a dog." Daniel repeated. "You better go on home now."

The dog didn't move.

"Go on." Daniel said, rising slowly. "I gotta go. I can't be late for dinner."

At the word dinner, the dog sat up expectantly, it's ears cocked.

"I'm going. Get out of here." Daniel waved his hand at the dog, who simply stared at him. Sighing, Daniel turned and gathered his tools loaded them up, and climbing onto the tractor with eventually sputtered to life. The loud rumble of the engine would surely drive the dog away. He kept glancing over his shoulder as the tractor crawled slowly home. He couldn't see the dog anywhere and was surprised to find himself disappointed.

He shut off the engine, and took his tools into the barn. He had just reached the back porch when he heard the shuffling of feet.

"There you are." He smiled as knelt low to rub the back of the mutt. "I thought you got scared off." He glanced around. "Wait here."

He tried to be casual as he entered the kitchen, which was thankfully only occupied by Ford, Guthrie and Hannah. The boys sat at either end of the long table working on their homework, while Hannah stood at the stove watching over dinner.

"Daniel!" She said smiling at him. "You must be tired. Did you get the tractor running?"

"Enough to get it home." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You got an old pan I could borrow?"

"I guess." She wrinkled her brows at him. "What for?"

"I gotta . . ." He hesitated, blushing embarrassed. "I spilled some oil all over my tools and I wanted to wash them." He sighed, relieved to have thought of an excuse.

"Under the sink." She said with a shrug before turning back to the stove.

He found what he needed and went out back. He filled the pan with water from the garden hose and the dog began immediately to lap at the water. He drank greedily and then looked up at Daniel expectantly.

"We don't have any dog food." Daniel explained. "We don't have dogs."

He sat down on the back step trying to figure a way to get the dog fed without anyone knowing. He was so deep in thought that he didn't even hear the screen door swing open.

"I was gonna throw this out." Hannah said startling him. He was shocked to see her standing on the back porch, a dish in her hand. "He might not like it."

"I was . . . he . . . I . . ." He was completely flustered. "Hannah! How did you know?"

She smiled affectionately at Daniel. "Never ever attempt a life of crime, Daniel Robert. You'd get caught your first attempt. You've got no poker face, honey. You do something wrong or even think about something wrong and it is written all over your face." She stepped past him setting the bowl in front of the dog, who immediately began to eat. She knelt low, scratching the dog between his ears.

"Poor little guy. He's hungry." She said.

"Thanks, Hannah." Daniel said.

"Whatever Adam thinks about having a dog, we still gotta at least feed him. It isn't right to let the poor thing suffer."

"Where is Adam?" He asked trying not to sound nervous.

"Shower." She rose. "I don't know what you should say to him, Daniel so don't even ask. That man is dead set against any dogs. I don't know why." She shook her head. "He followed you home?"

"Yep."

"No collar?"

"Nope."

She leaned against the rail of the steps leading up to the back porch. "Not got many words for me today, huh?"

He shook his head silently and she laughed out loud. "I don't know, Daniel. You better think of some fancy words before your brother finds out you brought a dog home."

"You fed him." He pointed out.

Laughing still, she climbed the steps, pausing at the top. "You are nothing but trouble, Daniel. Don't drag me into this! I don't know why that man won't get a dog." She opened the screen door, and was about to step inside but Daniel's voice stopped her.

"It makes him think of Dad too much." He explained. She immediately turned toward him, letting the screen door close behind her.

"What do you mean?"

"Our last dog - it kept waiting for Daddy to come home, and then when it realized he wasn't going to - it ran off and never came back."

"What a sad story!" She said softly. "Leave to Adam to keep something like that tucked away and buried." She shook her head. "You boys! There's a ton of secrets buried 'round this ranch and cowboys are about the most complicated people I've ever known." She turned opening the screen door again. "I'll see what I can do, okay?"

He grinned up at her.

***7***

"I don't want a dog." Adam repeated for the fifth time.

"You already said that." She said gently. "He followed Daniel home. He's just a stray. Don't make such a big deal about it." She grinned warmly at him, revealing her dimples. "You and I both know, he's gonna leave. Stays don't stay put."

"And then he'll be sad about it. No. I'll drive him into the vets. They'll find him a home."

"So he can be sad tomorrow instead of two weeks or a month from now? Why? Why you in such a hurry."

"We don't need another animal to take care of. It is hard to make ends meet as it is." He said stubbornly.

"Yeah, feeding one mutt will tip the scales to financial ruin." She said sarcastically.

All the brothers sat silently at the dinning room table as they argued back and forth. At one point, Guthrie had opened his mouth to speak but Evan had given him a hard kick in the shins. They could see their oldest brother was in the midst of a losing battle, and didn't want to miss watching it happen.

"Hannah!" Adam sputtered.

"Adam." She said with a grin. "He's got nobody. Look out there and see how skinny he is, and lonesome. He just needs someone to look after him."

"That's what I'm trying to avoid."

"I thought you had a soft spot for orphans." Unable to contain himself, Brian snickered at this until Adam shoot a death glare in his direction.

"What? You got something to say? Huh?"

"No, man." Brian said laughing. "I was just enjoying the dinner show."

"You think taking on another responsibility is a good idea?" Adam asked angrily.

"Well, you didn't ask me about it when you brought an extra responsibility home?" He winked conspiratorially at Hannah. "Why you asking me what I think this time?"

"Fine! Whatever!" Adam sputtered. "But when that dog turns out to be more trouble than he's worth - don't come crying to me!"

"You just wait and see, Adam." Daniel told his older brother. "I got a good feeling about that dog. He's gonna come in real handy."

"Yeah, and I got a feeling I'm the one who's gonna do all the work!"

"You never know, Adam, that dog could come in really handy." Hannah said rising and crossing to him, to kiss his cheek. "This could be the one time you are finally wrong."

"The age of miracles!" Crane said laughing.

"Just you wait, Adam." Daniel repeated. "You'll be awfully glad we brought him home."