A/N: Hi guys! Here is the next chapter, hope you guys enjoy!
Shout out to the reviewers, you guys are amazing I've never gotten twelve reviews for one chapter before. Angela (I'm glad you gave it a shot and are enjoying it :) Also, I *always* love constructive criticism, so if it was something to do with my writing that made you iffy, I'd love it if you could let me know what.) Suz G M(*grins* I know what it is like to wish for a fanfic to exist, so I'm happy to fill the gap, and yes, "hot to trot" was definitely one way to describe Linc, lol.) Guest (Ezra is my favorite, but I have a special place in my heart for both Josiah and Buck. Josiah kind of took over most of the beginning of this fic, lol,) Leandra Falconwing (*hugs Vin & Ezra* Vin is hurting pretty bad and probably will be for awhile, but he's tough, and unlike cannon Vin already has a support system. Ezra is a proud little shit, and wasn't willing to make an exit without lashing back at Alfred in some way. You have given me an idea about Judge Travis, Ezra and Bogart :)) Terry ( Thank you :) Their histories are going to come up quite a bit later on. JD appears soon.) Millie2077 ( I love dramedies so that is a great compliment :) The will reading is going to be in chapter six, but there are going to be meetings between *some* of the brothers before that.) Larafrank (I like Linc, but he is very far from perfect, and I don't blame you if you don't. Technically he couldn't just force them to allow him contact, his name isn't even on Vin's birth certificate-not without going to court anyway, and he could have done that. As you'll see, his kids are pretty mad at him. Also, two days before Friday! ;)) Lunaz ( I'm glad you liked the background, and we won't see all the brothers together until chapter six, but you'll get some unexpected meetings in chapter five) WesternMelody (Thanks, and I promise you there shall be more and more :) Also, I read Heart of a Hero, and it was awesome.) Kathy (Thanks, I hope you enjoy this newest chapter as well) Sibylla (Thank you :) They are quite close, and I think you'll like the interaction between the three of them in this. It'll be a long road with some smooth bits and a whole lot of bumps ;)) Hollie733( I figure if he can deal with them when they're a rag-tag bunch of misfits, out-laws and gunslingers turned peacekeepers, he'd keep a good handle on them as his nephews *grins*. Thanks, and I've been meaning to return your PM, I like the Buck and the bucking bronco idea.)
*.*.*.*.*.*
Sitting in a circle around the table in the back corner of the saloon that Chris, Buck and Nathan had long ago claimed as their own, the four Larabee brother's stoically drank their beer, silent and brooding to a man. While Chris being silent as he drank was not unusual-though since he'd mostly laid off the hard stuff, he wasn't there as much as he used to be-Buck was rarely less than boisterous, and, with a few drinks and his brother's encouragement, Nathan was often the same. All three quiet and, along with the long lost older brother, looking various degrees of miserable and murderous was more than enough to have other patrons of the bar keeping their distance.
But silence can only last so long.
"I don't understand...", Buck said quietly, mustache almost drooping into his beer, "if somebody told me they were having my kid...I couldn't just stay away, not just 'cause they asked me too."
Chris's fingers tightened around his beer bottle so tight that Nathan, in between him and Josiah, was wondering if it was going to shatter in his hand, "He should've fought for them." Josiah drained the last of his bottle in two long drinks, reaching over to snag Nathan's empty, and retreated to the bar, coming back with another round a few minutes later, grateful nobody commented on the fact that it was probably a little early for the double shot of jack he'd had the bartender serve up.
Sitting down heavily in his chair, Josiah popped the top off his own beer, taking a long sip before speaking, "We should remember that we don't know the whole story, that with Daddy gone we may never know the whole story." Chris glared at him, opening his mouth to protest, but Josiah continued before he could, "But for what it's worth, I agree with you. He should have fought for them." His gaze went from his brother to his beer bottle then, thumb moving rhythmically over the curved top of the bottle, voice lowering so that his next words could barely be heard, "All of them."
"Don't know that I blame Jenna for not wanting Daddy involved, what kind of man gets the babysitter pregnant? I feel like I didn't even know him." Nathan's voice was low, more melancholy than angry, but there was a hint of venom in his voice and when Chris's eyes narrowed, sitting forward in his chair and pointing his beer bottle at him, Nathan just stared stubbornly back.
"Now, you listen here-Daddy wasn't perfect, far from it, and maybe we didn't know him as well as we thought. But whatever else he was, he was our Daddy and a damn good one. There is nothing he did that meant a child should have been kept from him."
Nathan glared and shook his head, "I didn't mean that, not the way you're taking it, but she's Josiah's age. Jenna would have been twenty-one, maybe twenty-two when they were together in order to have a seventeen year old, and Daddy would have been almost forty. You're telling me you don't see something wrong with that?"
"They were both consenting adults," Buck put in with a shrug, "Sure, it's a little weird, but it's not illegal."
"But she worked for him since she was a teenager, and-"
Buck cut him off before he could continue, voice outraged, "Hey now, wait a minute! Are you saying you think Daddy did something with her when she was underage?" Nathan looked shocked for a minute, then shook his head.
"No, I meant that there is always a power imbalance between a boss and employee, and since she was so young when they hired her it would have been greater." Looking uncomfortable, he carried on, "but, know that you mention it, we don't-"
"I oughta smack you a good one, you know that, right?" Buck was clearly fuming, and Nathan glowered at him, chin raising.
"What, all of you are allowed to be mad at him, and I'm not?"
"There's a hell of a difference between being mad at him for not being there for our brothers, and accusing him of taking advantage of a teenager!" Buck had half stood up, leaning forward, and Nathan slowly pushed back his chair, legs moving so that the balls of his feet were posed on the floor.
Josiah growled, "That's enough, the both of you.", and was soundly ignored. The boys were looking for a fight, probably would have been even without the bombshell Orin had dropped on them, the turmoil of Daddy's death and his return pushing them past their limits, but they shouldn't be fighting each other, not right now. As Nathan began to push himself up, Buck straightening, he decided he'd had enough, and reaching his long arms out to either side of him, grabbed a handful of the bottom of each of their shirts and yanked them back down to a sitting position, "I said that's enough."
"'Siah!"
"What the hell!"
"Beating each other up isn't going to make either of you less mad at Daddy, or make you miss him less, knock it the hell off." Voice gruff and face set, Josiah waited to see if the two would decide he'd overstepped his bounds and either tell him off or resume fighting, but to his relief they settled back into their seats, still angry, but done for now. For a few minutes there was nothing but silence again as they drank, Josiah unsure why Chris was smirking at him, finally raising a questioning eyebrow at him from across the table.
"Nice to know I'm not the only one around to knock their heads together when they're being jackasses." Josiah snorted as Chris's smirk grew, Buck attempting to shoot them both a dirty look, but the way the corner of his mouth was twitching, clearly seeing the humor in it himself, it wasn't very effective. Noticing there was no reaction from him Josiah cast a concerned look over at Nathan, seeing his eyes were trained straight down on the table, as stiff as he had been when Josiah had returned him to his seat, steadily drinking his beer, and looking more miserable than ever. Just as Josiah was thinking about what he was going to say, and coming up blank, Nathan leaned forward and grabbed the empty bottles that had been pushed into the center of the table, taking the lot up to the bar and grabbing another round, setting three down where the others could grab them when he returned, slumping down in his seat.
"Buck?" The last of any anger seemed to drain away from Buck with the quiet, almost tentative, question, gaze lifting and softening at the same time.
"Yeah, Nate?"
"I didn't-I don't-" Nathan's voice broke on his last word, swallowing hard and clamping his mouth shut, ducking his head down as he tried to hide his shuddering shoulders.
"Aw pard," Buck was leaning forward again, stretching far enough over the table that it would have seemed ludicrous in any other situation, hand grabbing Nathan's off the table and squeezing, Josiah moving his hand to just below the nape of his baby brother's neck, letting it rest there, as Chris shifted his chair so he was blocking the view of Nathan best he could from the bar. "I know ya don't. I shouldn'ta gotten mad anyway." Nathan's head shook sharply, just once, apparently disagreeing, and Buck frowned slightly, "No, I shouldn'ta. Not worth it, and I don't have any right to tell you how to feel, anyway."
Nathan made no more protests, just did his best to steady his breathing until he started to calm enough to straighten up, pulling his hand away from Buck's to swipe quickly at his eyes. Josiah left his hand where it was for a second longer, before letting it fall back to the table. "Sorry about that." Nathan's voice was still quiet, subdued, but before either Buck or Josiah could tell him not to apologize, Chris broke in, a clear order in his tone.
"Don't be stupid. Not something you say sorry for."
"But-" Chris's hand shot out, popping Nathan on the shoulder, not particularly hard, but not soft either, Nathan's words cut off by a yelp of surprise. Josiah growled, and Buck snapped out Chris's name like a curse word, but Nathan just popped Chris back harder, looking more annoyed than guilty now. Chris shoved his shoulder, a hint of a grin on his face, Nathan's shove back accompanied with a glint of humor in his eye. "Jerk."
"Yep."
"Oh Lord." Everyone looked towards Josiah as he shifted forward in his seat, "Is Greg Mason still as big a jerk as he used to be?"
"His type only get worse," Buck said, turning his head over his shoulder in the direction Josiah was looking, cursing as he saw Mason heading their way, "Aw dammit, because that's exactly what we need."
"He probably just wants to see if he can set me off the way he used to," Josiah grumbled.
"Think he can?" Chris asked, not having bothered to acknowledge Mason's approach otherwise.
With a sheepish grin, Josiah admitted, "Probably. His fun-" He cut himself off mid word, suddenly much more annoyed with the situation then he had been. Mason sauntered over, not quite stupid enough to lean on the table, but snagging the fifth chair the boys had pushed away, pulling it so he could lean his elbow on the back. Contrary to Josiah's prediction however, he turned his gaze on Buck, a cocky grin plastered across his face.
"Hey, me and the boy's wanted to know if you had any miniatures available of that painting hanging over the counter out front?" Buck's eyes narrowed, turning in his seat so he was facing Mason more directly.
"Why exactly would you want my Momma's portrait?" The portrait in question was done in bordello style to go along with the theme, Rosie done up in the sort of outfit a saloon girl might have worn, reclining on a fancy couch with a coy smile as her red hair tumbled down over one shoulder. Buck had admired it for nearly as long as he could remember-his Momma looked beautifully and happy and young.
It was also responsible for the first time he'd heard his mother called a whore, just a casual comment by a random drunk, overheard when Buck was too little to understand more than that the man's words were cruel.
"Well, it's just that it's a mite stimulating, if you get my drift, and I figured that you wouldn't want the mess if some of the fella's took care of it-" That was as far as he got before Buck tackled him with a roar, Mason crashing to the floor with Buck on top of him, pulling back just enough to land a solid punch to the man's jaw, getting a sharp jab in the ribs for his trouble. For a moment the others just sat there, it being pretty clear that Buck was winning, but after he got a few more solid hits in Chris pushed himself to his feet and leaned over, grabbing Back by the shoulders and hauling him backwards off of Mason who immediately started clutching at his bloody nose. Nathan and Josiah stood at the ready, glaring at a small group of Mason's buddies who were clustered together at the bar, obviously considering heading their way.
"Buck, this piece of shit ain't worth going to jail for." As Buck nearly pulled loose from Chris's grip he jerked him back again, shaking him and then wrapping a tight arm around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides.
"Let me GO! Right now Chris, or I swear to God!" While Buck struggled, Mason glared through his bleeding nose.
"Ain't my fault your Momma was a whore." As Chris contemplated letting Buck go, and possibly joining him, Josiah and Nathan swooped in from either side, grabbing Mason by the arms and hauling him off in the direction of the bathroom.
"Hey, what are you assholes doing to Greg?!"
Chris swore as three of Mason's friends made their way towards where he was holding a still struggling Buck, though he was calming a little with Mason gone, two more hanging slightly behind, "If I let you go, don't kill 'em?"
"Maybe." Deciding that was good enough, Chris let him loose, stepping to the side of him so they were shoulder to shoulder. Buck glared, standing so his long body took up as much room as it could, but stayed where he was.
That lasted only until one of them snapped off, "Just 'cause your gigolo of an old man's dead don't mean you can just assault people. There's something wrong with your whole family, you know that?"
Chris and Buck looked at each other. "Could just kick them out, ban them."
"Aw, c'mon old pard, where's the fun in that? We can take 'em."
"True." Chris nodded, before turning his gaze back to the speaker, staring hard into his eyes as he let his face settle into his most fearsome glare.
"There's five of us!" called one of the guys from the back, "And only two of you!"
"Chris?"
"Go ahead."
*.*.*.*.*.*
"Feeling better, boys?" Orin Travis's voice was a touch sarcastic as his nephews stumbled back into the room an hour and a half later, clearly worse for wear. Buck's shirt was torn and he had a nasty scratch down one cheek, Josiah had the makings of a spectacular black eye and was favoring his left leg, and, in addition to a growing fat lip, he could see the bloody split in Nathan's knuckles from here-he just hoped they hadn't given them to each other. Chris followed behind them with the air of an amused parent, and not a mark on him-though Orin would be surprised if he hadn't been just as involved as the others.
"You know it," Buck said, all but falling into his chair.
Josiah grinned, voice a happy rumble, settling down next to Buck this time, "We were defending the family honor." Orin quirked an eyebrow for explanation, which a tipsy Nathan gave, sounding very satisfied.
"Some asshole was being rude about Auntie Rosie, so Buck tackled him and punched him. Fool decided that meant he should say it louder, so me and 'Siah carted him off to the bathroom and shoved his head in the toilet." Orin couldn't help it, he knew he shouldn't encourage them, but he grinned. Rosie had been family to him and Evie just as much as she'd been to Linc and the boys, and really, anyone who spoke negatively about a dead woman in front of her son deserved what he got. That the idiot had done it in her bar just cemented that.
"How'd that lead to all this?"
"His friends didn't like what we did. We decided we didn't like his friends." Josiah's grin was still wide as anything, but he was leaning to the right in his chair, reminding Orin he'd been favoring his left side.
Hitting the intercom button on his desk Orin spoke to his assistant, "Tanya, could I get you to bring in some ice packs and the first aid kit please?" Getting her confirmation, he turned back to the four men, "Are the police going to show up here?"
"Hope not." Chris shrugged, "Always such a hassle."
Trying to hide another grin, Orin waited until Tanya came in, handing the supplies to Nathan without prompting, winked at Buck, and left the room as the young doctor started handing out ice packs and antibiotic wipes, not at all surprised when Chris's only injury was scraped and bruised knuckles. He frowned in concern when Nathan first cleaned a spot on the back of Buck's head with a wipe and then had him hold an ice pack against it, before deciding he would have already taken care of it if it were serious. Orin cleared his throat, "Alright, do you have any questions, or should we move onto Mr. Dunne?"
Chris spoke for everyone, "Questions can wait, tell us what we need to know."
Seeing no point in dragging this out, there had already been one bar fight today, Orin started talking, "Mr. John Daniel Dunne only turned seventeen this July, however he is a very bright boy, and graduated in June from the University of Massachusetts as one of the top in his class."
Beaming, Buck broke in, "College graduate at seventeen, ain't that something. Jenna must be awful proud."
Nathan opened his mouth to ask if he knew what John had majored in when he saw the solemn expression cover his uncle's face, and with a sinking feeling, waited for what he was sure he was going to hear. "Jenna Dunne passed away in February after a four-year battle with cancer. I'm sorry boys, I know there was a time you knew her well." A long heavy silence followed, three of the brothers exchanging looks, while the fourth just sat there, slowly simmering.
"Do ya think we're cursed?" Everyone but Chris looked at Buck like he was crazy, and he hurried to explain. "What I mean is, all of our Mommas dead except for Ezra's-and I ain't sure whether that's a good thing or not, after what she did. That's weird, ain't it?"
Nathan looked at him angrily, "If you're trying to be funny, you sure as hell aren't."
"You really think I'd try and tell a joke right now? Jenna was my friend-"
"The two of you shut it!" Chris barked, startling them both into silence, "Where's John, Orin? You just told us he's barely 17 and his mother's dead, so where the hell is he?"
"John became an emancipated minor during his mother's illness, and is still living in their apartment in Boston."
"He's been living all alone in the place where his Momma was sick and dying?" Buck shook his head, swallowing hard, grateful when Josiah's hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing. That's when Chris's fist came crashing down on the table as he sprang to his feet, leaning his long frame over the Judge.
"Since February! Nine months, a teenage boy has been on his own! How long have you known, Uncle Orin? Did Daddy know? The second, the second, you knew you should have damn well told us! Not waited for some goddamn meeting! He's a child! A boy! You don't leave children to survive on their own! You don't!"
"Christopher, calm down and listen to me, now." Chris glared, not moving, but shut his mouth, almost gritting his teeth as he did so. "I had no idea until I looked into contacting him about the will reading, four days ago. If your father knew he didn't say a word, but I would hope you'd know him better than that." Travis stared hard at Chris, he knew why the information was hitting the younger man so harshly, but this kind of reaction didn't help anyone.
"What the hell am I supposed to think, Orin? When you tell me I got two brothers, one of them still a kid, that have been all but thrown to the wolves, you tell me, what the hell am I supposed to think? Noticed you didn't mention anything about support for John, too."
"Linc paid a modest amount of child support monthly, and would have provided more, but as I said, Jenna was a proud woman. Unlike Cady she maintained some communication with Linc himself-I believe there is a box of pictures you may find in his room, but that was as far as it went. He did try boys-I once assisted in the anonymous delivery of a bicycle. There was a week at space camp that John 'won'. Oh, and, the support isn't drawn from his checking account, so it won't have stopped with the death notification to the bank." There was a pounding growing behind his right eye and he did his best to push it away.
"He won't need it. John'll be with us." There was absolutely no doubt in Chris's voice, and seeing the trio of nods that surrounded him at his words, Orin relaxed a bit. Four of the Larabee brothers were home again, and it seemed, at least for the moment, three more would be welcomed. Once you got Chris's protective streak up it was impossible to fight against.
"Good. I was hoping you'd say that." Chris looked at his uncle and after a minute nodded, the tension easing up slightly, and Chris sat back in his seat.
Josiah frowned in concern, "You never said anything about talking to either John Daniel or Vincent, did you hear from them?"
"Vincent, I talked to briefly. He was understandably angry, having assumed his father didn't know of his existence at all." A brief smirk flashed across Orin's face, "His vocabulary is as impressive as Ezra's, but in an entirely different direction-and a few different languages. His adoptive father, Ko'Je, wound up taking the phone and finishing the conversation. He will, according to Ko'Je, be here."
"You think he's gonna listen to his Da-" Buck broke off here, an uncertain look passing over his face. Linc was his brother's Daddy…only he wasn't really. This Ko'Je was. Just like Mama Clara had been a stepmom to him and Josiah-the best stepmom-, but for Chris, she was his mother as much as she was Nathan's, the only one he could remember. But it would be hard, if this brother stuck around, even just to visit now and again, to hear him call another man that. Buck sure as hell wouldn't say a word to him about it, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be hard.
Orin nodded, pretending that he didn't notice Buck breaking off in the middle of the word (or Chris glaring at Buck for it, Josiah noticing and raising an eyebrow that Chris didn't notice, and wouldn't pay attention to if he did.), "Yes, I think he will."
"And John?"
"I'm afraid boys, that I've been unable to get a hold of him. He didn't call the office like the others, and the listed number has been disconnected since April according to the phone company. The notification for the will reading required a signature, so I know he was still present in the apartment, but that's it." He'd contemplated having the local police do a wellness check, and if the boy hadn't at least contacted him by the will reading, Orin would do so.
"So we have no idea how he's doing? He's probably struggling to pay bills if he's shutting off utilities. I'm sorry Uncle Orin, but I agree with Chris, you should have told us the second you knew," Nathan was shaking his head, a frown growing prominent on his face. "One of us could have flown out by now to check on him, or something."
"Probably woulda scared the hell out of 'im if we did that," Buck waved a hand as though dismissing this idea, "Grown man he don't know showing up on his doorstep. Besides, it's too late now, if he's coming to the will reading he's probably already on his way here. Once he gets here, that's when we gotta work on talking him into staying."
"He's staying," Chris snapped.
"I know that, and you know that, we just gotta convince the kid of that."
"Well, we can be grateful for one thing. At least he put them in the will. Otherwise we might never have known they existed!" Josiah stared hard into Orin's eyes as he spoke, standing up abruptly at the end of his outburst and walking out of the room without saying another word. The clenched fists at his side ensured no one tried to stop him.
"What the hell was that about?" Buck asked, bewildered, voice alone in the ocean of silence that seemed to have enveloped the room in Josiah's wake.
"While he's right, isn't he?" Nathan said, "We wouldn't have known they existed." Next to him Chris's hands were slowly tightening back into fists, and he nodded sharply.
"No. We wouldn't have." His words were simple, but his eyes were fixed on Orin and he was sure he saw suspicion in them, Chris likely wondering why his brother's words had been directed at their uncle.
"Let me see if I can talk to him, boys." The old man pushed himself out of his chair and, heart feeling heavy, began the trek out of his office, ignoring Buck asking if that was really a good idea and Nathan saying that he would go. Neither of them had any idea what was really upsetting Josiah and Orin knew all too well. Tanya pointed in the direction of the back staircase with a sympathetic expression on her face, and with a quiet thanks he headed that way, purposely slowing his pace to give Josiah more time than the two flights of stairs would.
Orin knew a few things Josiah did not, not yet, knew that after Josiah had left, Linc had gone to some effort to make amends for not being there for his daughter. Whether making amends was actually possible, well...
In searching for Josiah, Linc had learned what had happened to Hannah, that a child who despite her disabilities had been a mostly happy little girl had been suppressed and neglected, lashed out at, until she had retreated deep inside herself. He didn't blame Josiah for blaming his father for that at all.
He hadn't blamed his brother when he'd come to him for advice, telling him that Anna's daughter was his, not her husband's, and what should he do? From what he'd described the child had already had a father, not just the legal claim and responsibility that comes with a signature on a birth certificate, but a daddy who loved her. Linc had thought because Orin's father had stepped back and allowed his stepfather to raise him that he would somehow have the answer, but it was not as though the two situations had been remotely the same. George Travis had been a workaholic who hardly seemed to know he had a child at the best of times, and while Michael Larabee had done his duty by him and Linc equally, he hadn't been a particularly loving father to either of them. A hard man, who had ideas for his son's futures, and didn't care or understand whether it was was what they wanted. Still, when he thought of his father he thought of Michael. Orin hadn't known what to tell him. Oh, he could tell him that even with a DNA test, with another man's name on the birth certificate, and Anna apparently uncooperative-though Orin hadn't been entirely sure how much of that he truly believed, or how hard Linc had pushed on the subject-he'd have a fight if he wanted visitation. The question Linc had really wanted the answer to, whether he should fight, whether it was worth the potential break up of two families? Well, that had been an answer Orin just didn't have for him, an answer Linc could only find for himself. He honestly had no idea what he would have done in the same situation.
Of course, Orin had never cheated on Evie and therefore hadn't had to worry about things like that. A flash of memory that was nearly thirty years old hit him then, the sound of Clara sobbing broken heartedly into Evie's shoulder, hardly muffled at all by the closed bedroom door as he'd walked away. Orin had had a strong urge to go rip his brother's head off, but Stevie had been up from his nap and Clara had brought Chris with her and so instead he'd settled the boys down in the living room, watching Gummi Bears with them, his far too perceptive for a three year old nephew knowing something was wrong with his Mama and rather unhappy about it.
At least twice more Linc had done the same thing, and as fertile as his brother obviously was-his mind corrected to 'had been' automatically, and Orin paused for a moment, hand tightening on the stair rail. That was going to come as a shock for a while, he supposed.
Well, he'd meant that he doubted it had taken him only two tries to get two different women pregnant. It was possible, but the odds weren't good.
All that aside, Orin had been unable to make the decision for him, and unable to judge him on the choice he made.
When he realized that Josiah knew, that the boy was in on the secret, and therefore expected to keep it, he had disapproved, and let Linc know about it. Linc had done his best to deflect him, to tell him that he was just going along with Anna's wishes, but there was a difference between going along with her wishes and keeping such a big secret from his wife, let alone expecting a teenage boy to keep it from his stepmother, to keep knowledge of their sister from his brothers.
When Linc had told him he was visiting Hannah, and then, not more than six months later, simply stopped, not wanting to talk about it, Orin wasn't going to lie, he had judged him. He had looked at his little brother and found him wanting. That had been the first real hit to his relationship with Josiah too, and Linc had to have known it, whatever else he'd been, he'd been an emotionally intuitive man.
When Anna had been no longer able to take care of herself, let alone the children-though, he supposed Josiah hadn't really counted as a child by then-, Ramon had been living with her, having moved in to supposedly help Anna with Hannah. Josiah had once told him, quite resentfully, that his grandfather no longer did anything but sit in an armchair watching the 700 Club and religious Telenovelas, and declaring that everyone was going to hell. He'd had a great Aunt who did something similar with radio programs, though with her it had only been immigrants that were going to hell. He'd sympathized with the boy, but with what he knew now he wondered if Josiah had been trying to tell him more than he'd realized. The funny thing about getting older was it wasn't the arthritis, or the weakening vision, or any of that, that really slowed a man down, no, it was regrets that did that.
That had been the first time Josiah had run off. With Anna slowly dying, Emilio nowhere to be found, Josiah too young to take responsibility, and Ramon unlikely to fight it, Linc had wanted to have Hannah moved into a family style home for autistic children, only a few hours from the ranch. He technically had had no authority to do so, but Ramon wasn't a complete fool, the girl had his eyes, Linc had given her the same curly hair he'd given her brother, if not the color. If his brother had just let go of the blasted secret, if he'd gone to his wife and told her what he'd done, well, he might have lost her, but Orin didn't think so, and either way it would have been the right thing to do. He'd been the only parent that girl had left, and it had been past time to face the music like a man. Instead he'd not only maintained the secrecy, he'd presented the idea to his seventeen year old son in a way that put some of the responsibility for making the decision on his shoulders, as though a child who'd just helped move his mother into a home would be remotely emotionally capable of making a rational decision on such a sensitive subject.
Orin was ordinarily a calm person, even when he was angry he could usually maintain his cool. When his brother had appeared on his doorstep, in his defense seeming to expect anger, and had told him what had happened, that in the midst of a shouting match Josiah had shoved him and Linc had hit the boy, backhanding him hard enough to raise a bruise almost immediately, he'd lost it, and cracked his brother in the eye. Then he'd brought him in the house, got him some ice and let him ramble about the situation for hours. Even as disappointed as he'd been, Linc was always his little brother.
The man had decided, after Josiah had been gone for two months, that if his son felt that strongly that Hannah shouldn't be placed in a home than he would leave her where she was, with her grandfather. That Josiah's argument had been as much, if not more, about his father not taking her into his own home as having her placed into a facility, and even more about him not being a part of her life had been something Orin could not get him to truly talk about. The closest they'd come was when Linc had snapped at him that of course he regretted keeping knowledge of Hannah from Clara, but he'd done it, even as he regretted it, and now it had been so long there was no way out.
Orin had never had reason to think his brother was a coward before that, but he'd been struck with the sudden chilly knowledge that, at least in this, he was.
The truth was, Orin had no way of knowing for sure whether Hannah would have been able to deal with the chaotic, ever-changing landscape of his brother's home. The group home, with children more like her and adults both trained in therapies she could benefit from and who simply had years of experience with autistic children, might have been the best choice-and if that was true then Linc should have gone through with placing her there, whatever resistance her brother had to the idea. The responsibility to make that decision should never have been even partly on Josiah's shoulders in the first place. Even as Josiah and Link had patched things up, Orin had been sure his nephew still felt a great deal of resentment and confusion over it all. In many ways, when Linc had stepped back from the situation with Hannah he had been giving the child up again, only this time no one had asked him too.
He came to the landing at the bottom of the stairs, grateful as his knees needed a break, and followed smashing sounds out the backdoor. There was a tall double stack of crates, likely from one of the buildings on either side, stacked neatly by the over large recycle bin, or rather, there had been a tall stack of crates. It had shrunk a bit and as he watched, Josiah picked one up, walked farther out into the alley, and raising it above his head, brought it smashing to the ground with an almighty crash. Then he kicked the debris over to the side, and started over again. Orin said nothing, just stood on the stoop, waiting. Finally, when there was only one crate left in the stack, Josiah stood still, back to Orin, not having bothered to kick the remains of the crate at his feet away, body heaving with his breaths, no other sound until he spoke. "I always knew you knew. Never talked to you about it, never brought it up, but I always knew you knew. Daddy told you everything."
"I suppose he did." Sometimes years after the fact, sometimes the same day, but yes, it had seemed that eventually all of Link's stories, secrets and otherwise, had bent his ear, often more than once.
"But if anyone does not provide for his own, and especially for his own household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever...He ever tell you what the hell made him think it was okay to pick and choose between his children like puppies in a litter?" Orin closed his eyes. He wasn't sure that was fair, but at the same time, what was Josiah supposed to think?
He wasn't sure it was unfair either.
"Josiah..."
"Did he? Did he ever tell you why it was so easy for him to give up my sister?"
"I believe the basic idea was that he'd thought he was doing the right thing, and by the time he'd figured out he wasn't he felt he was trapped."
"He was trapped? I was trapped. Hannah was trapped!" Josiah turned around to face him red-faced, chest heaving, fists clenched at his side, and then his face seemed to crumple, his rage being drowned out by grief, "I trapped her."
"Like hell you did." Orin snapped, "You were a child, or hardly older than that, and that is on the adults you had every right to have trust in, your Daddy and your grandfather." He'd been being cautious in what he said, not wanting to set him off more, but if there was even a chance he could get an idea like that out of his nephew's head he would take it.
Josiah shook his head, a bitter laugh leaving him, "I had no reason to trust Abuelo. Once he figured out she was a bastard like me...I should have figured out some way to bring her with me."
Orin raised an eyebrow, "Josiah, you were in the Marines. How exactly would you have pulled that off?"
"Hell if I know."
"Josiah, I think there's something you should know." Orin wasn't sure this was an appropriate time to tell him, when he was this upset, but there had been more than enough of hiding things to go around.
"I already know about the donations he made to Hannah's group home."
Well huh. Orin had not been expecting that. "Your Daddy tell you about them?"
"No," Josiah admitted, "The Sisters did."
"Did they also tell you that he'd been visiting her regularly for the past sixteen years?" Josiah didn't react for a second, and then he was gaping at him, jaw dropping and eyes crinkling with confusion. After a long moment his mouth closed, his head slowly shaking.
"Why wouldn't he have told me when we started talking? How did he not know I needed to hear that? How would he even have gotten access..." His eyes closed, "I added him to her visitor list, when I first moved her in there. I couldn't take being the only name on it, and I couldn't think of anybody else to put down." Orin bit back the automatic urge to express sympathy, getting the feeling that if he did Josiah would break down, and while he likely needed to, Orin wasn't sure this was the best place. Before he could come up with something appropriate, Josiah was talking again. "I've been trying so hard not to be angry...he's gone, and you shouldn't be able to miss someone you haven't had for that long, but I do. I don't want to be angry too. But I am...even hearing that, I am. Maybe I shouldn't be, but..." His words trailed off as he shook his head again, "Was he even going for her? Or just to appease his guilt? Or," a caustic snort, "was he one child short on his apparent five child quota and she was the easiest to get to?"
Even as he winced a bit at the harshness of his nephew's last words, Orin was already opening his mouth, "Whatever you're feeling, that's what you should be feeling. Everybody grieves differently, and it's not as though he didn't give you plenty of reasons to be angry. Whatever you're feeling is fine."
"It's not fair." Josiah's words were a whisper, a tight, angry, grief-stricken, whisper, "He's not supposed to be gone yet. Not yet." Orin stepped forward and down off the stoop, putting him at a lower height than his nephew, but he took no notice of that, reaching up and pulling the larger man down, wrapping his arms around him as best he could, bracing himself as much of Josiah's weight transferred to him, not wanting either of them to wind up on the ground.
"I've got you...I've got you."
*.*.*.*.*.*
Nathan snorted in disgust as he looked around the room, filled with a strange mixture of their father's friends and family, relatives who were suddenly pretending Linc hadn't been the black sheep, and those who just showed up to every event in the small town, wake or not, "Look at all these people that came crawling out of the wood work. How many of them hadn't even talked to Daddy for years? Now they show up to eat free food and pretend they're heartbroken? Ain't right."
"You," Buck declared, from his spot holding up the back wall next to Nathan, "Need a drink." He pulled a flask out of his suit jacket, unscrewing the lid and tilting it teasingly over Nathan's cup, waiting for his nod, "Just say when." After a good ten seconds of him pouring and Nathan not saying when, he tilted it back up, fixing his little brother with a concerned look, "Or just drink half the flask, no skin off my nose."
"Yeah, yeah," Nathan took a gulp out of his glass, then another one, "I'm just saying-Jimmy Dugan is here, why?"
"Daddy's mechanic's kid?" Buck looked around until he spotted him, frowning himself, "Who invited him?"
"Nobody! His dad maybe, they were kind of friends, but you know Jimmy just showed up."
"I never liked him, there were rumors that he used to sell pot behind the middle school back when we were kids." Nathan shook his head, knowing that Buck, at least back when Nathan had been in middle school and he had been in high school, would only have had a problem because it was the middle school. They hadn't been rumors either, not that Nathan had ever been interested.
"Like he's not where you got your pot." Nathan smirked at a sheepish looking Buck.
"Yeah, well, I wasn't thirteen. Besides, doesn't mean I had to like him." He took a long pull off his own drink, "You seen Chris or 'Siah?"
Nathan scanned the room, then gestured with his chin to a spot across the room, "Josiah's over there, looks like he got trapped by Great Aunt Birdie." Nathan and Buck gave twin shudders. Birdie was their Grandma's sister, and about as different from that sweet woman had been as she could be. Birdie pinched your cheeks and gushed over you, then spat poison the second she thought you were out of earshot. She'd made Auntie Rosie, Buck's mother, and the toughest woman Nathan thought he'd ever met, cry once. It was probably twenty years ago, and he didn't think one of them had forgiven her for it.
"Hell, forget about Jimmy, she shouldn't be here. Daddy used to burn her Christmas cards." Buck glared across the room at her, wishing she could feel it. It wasn't often a woman could earn his enmity, even those who probably deserved it, but Birdie had done it ten times over.
"Only after she said he was like an unneutered dog and we were his mongrel litter."
"The Thanksgiving she drank all the sherry?"
"And got sick on the table and tried to blame it on the baby."
Buck snorted, "I remember that! I thought Aunt Nettie and Maude were gonna tear-", he stopped abruptly, taking another gulp of his drink.
"Weird isn't it?" Nathan dropped his eyes down towards his feet, "Ezra has been gone for so long. A couple days from now we're gonna see him for at least a day-after that, who knows."
"What are you talking about?" Buck frowned, gut tightening uneasily, "You don't think he's gonna wanna stick around? For a little while at least?"
"I'm figuring he's got a life Buck. At nineteen hopefully he's in college or working towards a career, and even if he isn't he doesn't know us. And who knows what the hell Maude told him about Daddy or the rest of us, could have filled the boy's head with all kinds of nonsense."
Buck grunted, "While I doubt she'd win any mother of the year awards considering she's probably still wanted for kidnapping."
"That's what you get when you take off, leave your kid behind, and then come back and steal him six months later. Like Daddy wasn't gonna have filed for sole custody by then." Nathan held out his cup, and Buck pulled the flask back out of his pocket and obligingly topped it off, adding some more to his own drink, shaking his head no at the teenage cousin who was standing about six feet away looking at him hopefully.
"Not happening Alice-girl, your dad would chop my nuts off and your mom would fry 'em up and feed 'em to me." Alice made a face that looked like she wanted to puke and laugh her head off all at once, moving off only when Buck made a shooing motion at her. "Don't think I've ever seen him as angry as when we got back from that camping trip and Daddy realized that Ez had been alone all night. Don't blame him either, he was big enough to climb out of his crib by then, anything could have happened to him."
"Not to mention normal people don't leave babies alone, period."
"Yeah. Josiah still ain't gotten away from Birdie, can you picture that conversation?" Buck screwed up his face and did his best impression of a falsetto, "Oh it's such a tragedy that your father passed-even though I had nothing good to say about him before, now I'm just devastated." He swooned a bit, "Linc was my favorite nephew, you know!"
Nathan snorted as he was taking a drink, splashing his shirt a bit, and wiping at it hastily. He thought for a moment, and then deepened his voice, "Vaguely insulting and obscure bible reference that only I understand." Buck laughed out loud, slapping his leg, earning them a mixture of smiles and disapproving looks from the nearby tables. Buck waved at them, getting more smiles and some waves back from the sort of people his Daddy would have wanted at his wake, the others looking away.
"Oh you're so right, the good book is always a place to turn to in times of need!"
Nathan winced, Buck definitely had Aunt Birdie's shrill tones down, "Of course, one has to understand the meaning of the words, rather than just read them." He did his best imitation of Josiah's righteous glare, Buck shoving at his shoulder, more giggling than laughing now, clearly tipsy and Nathan was pretty sure he was on his way to joining him.
"If he said that she'd probably beat him with her purse."
"True." Buck looked up as Nathan suddenly straightened, coming up off the wall.
"What, she's not really beating him with her purse, is she?" Buck looked over, but Nathan shook his head, pointing.
"Look." Buck looked, and swore. Chris was over by one of the exits, clearly planning to get the hell out of there for awhile-and Buck felt a stab of guilt, he should have been keeping an eye on Chris, staying off the hard stuff today of all days wouldn't be easy. Jimmy Dugan was for some reason standing in his way, clearly ignoring the very obvious get-the-fuck-away-from-me vibes Chris was putting out, and now Buck saw the man pulling out a flask, waving it enticingly under his brother's nose, ignoring Chris shoving it away, doing his best to not take no for an answer.
Of all the disrespectful crap Buck had seen that day, that took the cake, and Buck was already moving, Nathan by his side, as Chris knocked the open flask to the ground, his cry of, "I said no, dammit!" echoing around the church basement, as he shoved past the other man. One look let Buck know that Josiah was heading that way as well, the three brothers converging on a Jimmy Dugan who looked rather like he was about to piss himself. They swerved at the last second so they didn't run him over, Buck knocking his shoulder into Dugan's hard, as they went around him, intent on finding Chris.
