Chapter 2

Adam stepped out onto the back porch. It was only a minute or two since Guthrie had asked to be excused, so he could not have gone far. The full moon illuminated the yard, and he could plainly see his youngest brother enter the barn.

Adam's long strides soon had him caught up, but he stopped at a sound – high, lonesome, and not quite on key. Ah, Guthrie must have had the harmonica in his pocket. It was his constant companion of late since he started lessons with Brian, and although he was doing well with it, he had a long way to go to match Brian's expertise. Adam listened for a moment before the attempt at music stopped, and he entered the barn.

Guthrie stood in the doorway to the right of where Adam was, the moonlight casting his shadow inward, its length at least double his. Spying his brother and fearing the worst, he assured, "It's okay. I asked to be excused."

Adam acknowledged, "I heard you ask."

The youngest added, "And Hannah said okay."

"I know."

Guthrie eyed Adam warily, not quite sure what to make of his visit. "I'm gonna help Bri with chores," he announced off the cuff. Returning the harmonica to his pocket, he picked up a lantern, speaking out loud what he was thinking to make meaningless conversation with Adam. "Guess I'd better light this first so I can see what I'm doing."

Adam waited while Guthrie found the matchbox and lit the lamp. All the brothers were capable from an early age, and Guthrie was no different. He did most chores by rote with no direction and little reminding and was a student of the more difficult ones, wanting to show he could carry his weight. But, now, setting the lantern down, the youngster grabbed a handful of feed, took a step, and stopped. He seemed confused.

Adam thought the motion was done with no thought, perhaps to appear busy rather than face him. He remarked, "Kind of late to be feeding the chickens, isn't it?"

Guthrie looked at the ground as he spoke. "Guess so." Then he looked at Adam. "Am I in trouble?"

Adam came closer. "Why would you be in trouble?"

Guthrie shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe for yelling at the table."

"I think we can excuse that." He laid a hand on Guthrie's shoulder. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Uh huh. Why?"

"You've been kinda quiet lately." Adam nodded to a couple bales of hay. "Come on. Let's sit down a minute." He smiled as Guthrie returned the handful of feed to its container before joining him. The boys had learned well their lessons of not wasting anything, an important practice in a household where money was sometimes scarce. The eldest continued, "So, what's going on?"

"I was just trying to help."

"With what?"

Guthrie shrugged again. "You know, just help."

Now Adam McFadden knew twelve-year-old boys in mopey moods were not the most talkative people in the world, having been one himself and having gone through this with five other brothers. He rubbed his neck and called on his reserves of patience. "Help with what?"

Guthrie sighed. "You know, everybody's doing something to help with the emergency fund, except me."

Adam countered, "Well, I'm not out earning any money, either."

"But you're busy helping out with everybody else's chores." Guthrie's voice rose almost to a whine. "I'm the only one not doing anything."

Adam smiled and pulled Guthrie close. "Aw, buddy, you're helping me, and I think we're doing the most important jobs around here."

Guthrie looked up at Adam. "How?"

"Because we're keeping this place going and making sure everybody's fed when Hannah and Brian are both working. Don't you think so?"

The youngest thought a moment. He conceded, "Maybe."

"So don't be so hard on yourself, okay?"

Guthrie's voice lowered, "'kay."

"Good." Adam moved on. "Now what was that all about with Daniel?"

Guthrie shrugged. "Helping."

"To do what?"

"Earn money."

Adam sighed with frustration but kept to his script. "For what?"

"Same thing."

Eldest brother's voice had an edge to it. "Guthrie …?"

The youngster blurted, "I was gonna ask him if I could go with him to help with street singing and maybe do some myself so I could help. Nobody else lets me!"

"That's up to Daniel. You'll have to ask him."

"I tried."

Adam concurred. "I know you tried, but Daniel had something else on his mind. Try asking him again when he's alone so he has your attention. Okay?"

"Okay."

Adam squeezed his shoulder and rose. "Come on, let's get back inside. I'll help you with your homework."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

Guthrie sounded a little lighter. "Okay."

~~00oo00~~

In the house, Crane and Daniel finished up the last of the dinner dishes. Well-rehearsed at the task, they worked efficiently at a quick pace in companionable silence, each to his own thoughts, until guitar strumming wafted in from the next room. All except Brian played at least a little, each with his own style. The brothers looked at each other.

"Evan," guessed Crane.

"Nah, Ford," Daniel concluded.

"Why do you say that?"

Daniel shrugged. "Ford has the lighter touch, and that sounds light."

Crane listened. "Yeah, okay, you're probably right." He paused. "So the busking went okay?"

"Yeah. Slow day but saved by a bunch of school kids with loose change."

"Every little bit helps."

"Yup." Daniel continued, "You know, Crane, you oughta come out and play. Man, I made about thirty bucks today on spare change. Imagine what we could do if both of us got out there on the weekend when it's more crowded."

Crane smiled. "Then you're at the mercy of adults who are more hesitant to part with their cash than little kids who are thrilled that you played what they asked for."

"But if both of us got out there and played separate – think of all the money we could bring in! And the sooner we get enough in the fund, the sooner I can quit the garage." Daniel's eyes sparkled.

"I'll think about it. You know I'm not one for playing by myself in public." Crane put up the last of the dishes.

Grabbing a broom, Daniel responded, "Man, don't underestimate yourself. This has a few fringe benefits, too, like girls."

"So Evan was right?"

"About what?"

Crane smirked. "A girl."

"Yup. She stopped and I played her a song. Said it was our first date."

Crane's brow crinkled. "A date? And you just met?"

Daniel nodded. "Yup. Kinda weird, but kinda nice."

"What's she like?"

"I don't know. Kinda quirky, I guess. A little forward, but she seemed fun."

Crane stepped aside from the dust pile so Daniel could brush it into the dust pan. "So you're gonna see her again?"

"Yeah, going back tomorrow."

"On another slow day?" After a minute, Crane's face lit up in recognition. "Oh wait. I just remembered tomorrow we promised we'd haul those trees for Mrs. Mead."

Daniel sighed. This was not what he wanted to hear. "Can't Brian help you, or Adam?"

"Bri'll be at the sawmill and Adam has enough to do around here with everybody coming and going. We can get it done real quick."

The middle McFadden thought a moment. "Okay. We haul trees tomorrow but you come with me on Saturday. Deal?"

Crane rolled his eyes. "If that's what I have to do to get your help, fine. But if she's there, I don't need to be a third wheel on your date!"

~~00oo00~~

After spending time Friday hauling trees and doing various extra chores around her place for their neighbor, Mrs. Mead, Crane and Daniel drove with Guthrie to Columbia late Saturday morning, the youngest having successfully lobbied Daniel to try helping in his busking endeavors. The two older McFaddens took up positions several blocks apart on opposite ends of the historic district for the first half of the afternoon, and after touching base with Guthrie as messenger, they decided to reunite and play together.

A small but steady crowd stopped to watch them solo or as a duo throughout the day. As Crane predicted, the donations were fewer in number than Daniel had experienced the first time, but larger in amount. At a break every so often, they gathered up the money from their guitar cases and pocketed it for safekeeping.

After singing all day, the tired twosome let Guthrie take center stage. A natural ham, he played to the crowd like a seasoned pro and watched the donations increase. He sang songs he learned at school and at home, tunes his brothers had written and ones more familiar to the crowd, told a few jokes – groaners some rolled their eyes at and others evoking a genuine chuckle – and overall had a good time with his chance in the spotlight.

About the time he ended with a flourish, a few pre-teen girls gathered round him, each wanting a moment with their new hero. His older brothers hung back, enjoying the youngest's triumph. One girl even shoved an autograph book in front of him, and Guthrie, momentarily confused as to what to do with it, understood when Daniel handed him a pen, and he shyly signed his name.

Finally, lest Guthrie's head swell a bit too much, his brothers started to pack up, sending a clear signal to him to wrap it up. As the last of his bevy of admirers rejoined her parents, Guthrie turned to Crane and Daniel, feigning exhaustion. "It's hard work, but somebody's gotta do it."

The older pair cracked up. Crane kidded, "Just make sure your hat still fits, Mr. Popular."

Guthrie pulled his ball cap from his pocket and put it on. "It does. Why wouldn't it?"

Daniel started to explain, "Because …," but paused. His gaze went beyond Guthrie to a familiar figure standing where the crowd had just dispersed, and his brothers could not help but notice how his face lit up at the sight of her. "Hi," he greeted.

Charly approached him. "Hi back."

The middle McFadden offered, "I wasn't sure you'd be here today."

She shrugged. "Remember, I'm working all week. Inventory and all that jazz."

"Uh, yeah, I remember."

"Just got off. I looked for you yesterday, but you weren't here," she said.

"Forgot I had to take care of some stuff, so …"

"That's okay. You can't be everywhere."

"Guess not."

They continued talking as if they were the only two present. It was clear to Crane that Daniel was now deep in that zone so recently vacated by Guthrie, where time stands still and everything around you is forgotten. Big brother finished packing up and shared a glance with Guthrie, whose expression signalled wanting to leave. Crane took up position behind the youngest, resting his hands on Guthrie's shoulders. Together, they stood and waited for what seemed a long time. Finally, Crane cleared his throat, gaining Daniel's – and Charly's – attention. "Remember us?"

Slightly startled, Daniel snapped to attention. "Oh, sorry."

Charly looked on, amused.

Crane wore an expectant expression. "Are you going to introduce us?"

Guthrie chimed in, "Yeah, Daniel, you're being rude."

"Guthrie!" Daniel exclaimed.

"Well, you are," little brother asserted.

"Should never have let you come along." Daniel sighed. "Can't even behave."

Charly interjected, "Actually, he's the reason I stopped, and if I hadn't, I wouldn't have seen you."

Guthrie had started to pull away from Crane to go at Daniel, but stopped and puffed up a bit at Charly's compliment. He asked her, "So I was good?"

Crane held tight to little brother as Daniel remarked, "Guthrie, you have no shame." Turning his attention back to Charly, he continued, "Please forgive him. He's not always this way, are you, Guthrie?"

Charly came to the rescue again. "He was good, Daniel, and he had the audience to prove it. And you're good, too. It must run in the family."

"It does," wisecracked Guthrie.

She laughed. "I don't doubt it."

Daniel sported a light shade of crimson. He eyed Guthrie but stood mute.

Crane took advantage of the silent moment. "If we have to wait for these two to stop, we'll be here all day." He extended his hand to Charly. "Hi, I'm Crane, and this here is Guthrie. I guess you already know Daniel."

She shook hands with Crane and acknowledged him and Guthrie in turn. "Nice to meet you. I'm Charly."

Guthrie piped up, "Like a boy?"

Daniel could not believe how right now his little brother's reason for existence seemed to be to embarrass him. "Guthrie!"

She laughed. "Oh, Daniel, it's fine." And addressing Guthrie, she clarified, "No, like short for Charlotte. My friends call me Charly."

Without missing a beat, Daniel's mood changed on a dime and he looked at her, a hint of a smile forming. "So we're friends now?"

Charly winked. "Sure."

Guthrie was not done. "But didn't you just meet?"

She responded, "Uh huh, just the other day. Daniel played me a song."

Little brother was on a wisecracking tear. "We know. Daniel told us all about it."

Daniel was apoplectic. "I did not!"

"Well, maybe he didn't tell us everything …"

"Enough, Guthrie!" Crane's stern tone quieted the youngster. "We need to be getting home." He steered Guthrie around by the shoulder and continued, "Daniel, you finish up here and we'll get the jeep. Nice meeting you, Charly."

As Charly waved to the departing brothers, they all reacted to a voice calling, "Charly!"

They waited as another young woman crossed the street. When she reached them, she said, "Sorry I'm late," then rolled her eyes. "Tourist traffic!"

"That's okay," Charly said. She nodded toward the McFaddens. "I've had company."

The newest member of the group acknowledged, "I see. Hi."

Crane took the lead. "Hi."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, from which Charly emerged a little flustered. "Oh, sorry, I'd forget my head if it weren't attached. Lys, this is Daniel, Crane, and Guthrie. They're brothers. And this is my sister, Alyssa."

"Nice to meet you. And thanks for keeping Charly company. I hate to leave anyone waiting." Alyssa caught Crane's eye, and both brightened. "You're Crane?"

"Uh huh. Nice to meet you, Alyssa." He glanced at his brothers. "And I'm sure that goes for Daniel and Guthrie, too." The younger McFaddens murmured agreement, wondering if anything else might develop given the seeming hint of attraction between Crane and Alyssa. They were disappointed, though, when Crane continued, "Unfortunately, we have to get going, but maybe we'll run into each other again."

Alyssa smiled. "I certainly hope so."

Charly grinned. "I know Daniel and I probably will."

Daniel added, "Maybe more than run into each other."

Alyssa's gaze went from her sister to Daniel. "And just so Charly knows who she's hanging with, what was that last name?"

Crane answered, "Sorry. It's McFadden."

"McFadden," Alyssa repeated. "I used to know a McFadden …"