Brian McFadden contemplated the steps leading up to the main offices of the high school trying to determine just how many times he had been here. He hoped that this time it would be for something other than a McFadden being suspended. He sighed and walked up the steps and into the office.

"Brian!" Mr. Fitzgerald greeted him with a smile. "Come in! Come in!" He ushered Brian into his office and gestured to a chair across from his desk. "I was expecting your brother, or his wife."

"They have some things to manage at home. If you look close at the paper work there are three names listed as guardians." He shifted uncomfortably. "The secretary didn't say why you needed to see me."

"Oh! The boys aren't in trouble! Is that what you were thinking!" Fitzgerald laughed. "No! We are starting our course planning for next term, and I wanted your input on Guthrie."

"Guthrie? His grades haven't slipped, have they?" Brian asked.

"No. His grades are wonderful. No, it's just that if he continues on the path he's started, he will complete all of our math courses by the end of tenth grade. He's already in a class with upper classmen, I just wasn't sure how to best proceed."

"Well, couldn't he just be finished with math?" Brian asked.

"He could, but he could also take courses at the community college. Your brother indicated that you hoped he would go to college - and we already have schools starting to inquire about him. His latest standardized tests were fairly impressive."

Brian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Who would've known? He was always so scattered! Then he started bringing home all those A's."

"Sometimes it just takes time to fall into place." Mr. Fiztgerald offered.

"Or one good woman." Brian said.

"Pardon me?"

"Check your records, Mr. Fitzgerald. Guthrie began to improve half-way through his sixth grade year - right about the time my brother got married. When MIT comes knocking on this door to ask you about your wonder student, you make sure and let them know it was my sister that pushed him to work so hard." Brian sighed. "I don't think it would be a good idea for him to not take any math for his last two years of high school. I think it would make him rusty. Isn't math one of those things you should keep practicing?"

"I agree." Mr. Fitzgerald said. "So we'll go ahead and put him in Calculus for next term, and then see what options we have after that. Or should we wait and let Adam make the final decision."

"No," Brian shook his head trying not to be irritated with the fact that he was never quite seen as Adam's equal. "Adam doesn't need to be involved. Go ahead and set up Guthrie's schedule."

He didn't head straight back home, but later, wished he had. Instead he stopped off and poked around the mercantile, feeling restless. He glanced around the streets of his hometown wondering what it would be like to be in downtown New York on a Thursday afternoon, instead of Murphys, California.

He could tell something was wrong, as soon as he pulled up to the house. The barn door was open and he could see Ford hand-feeding one of the baby goats. It was homework hour, and the only reason Ford would be outside was to avoid something - or someone.

He stepped into the barn and glanced around, but it appeared that only Ford was there.

"Hey, no homework?" He asked.

"I'll do it later." Ford said angrily.

"Okay." Brian said. "You seem kind of tense. Something I can help you with?"

"Why is he so damn pig headed?" Ford asked, his blue eyes smoldering with anger. "He gets mad so quick and then won't back down!"

Brian sighed. "He's got a lot on his plate, Ford. It isn't easy running this place."

"He doesn't do it by himself. We all pitch in, and you and Crane are just as in charge. You don't blow up for no reason."

"Sure, I do." Brian said.

"No. You blow up if you've got a reason. Adam, he just loses his temper. It's been really bad lately." Ford sighed. "It's getting to the point where it will be easy for me to leave for school. I'll be glad to go."

"Well, it might be worth it then." Brian smiled at his younger brother. "What happened anyway?"

"It doesn't matter." Ford sighed. "It can't be fixed just now. I mean, he was just angry. He blew up. He yelled. It's over. He won't say sorry. He won't mention it again. I just get mad sometimes. It's not like I don't appreciate all he's done for me, but . . .I wish he was more like you."

Brian looked up surprised. "What do you mean?"

"You talk more - explain things; even when you are yelling - you make sure we got it clear. I can't even figure what Adam's thinking, and he won't say. You have to drag it out of him!"

"Ford, he's not usually this bad - it's just . . ."

"Tuna fish, I know." Ford sighed. "It doesn't make it any easier. Whatever is going on, I hope it gets worked out fast. I don't know if I can reign my temper in. You keep telling me to be patient and I'm really trying Brian. But something is not right - Hannah's sad. I don't like it."

"Yeah," Brian agreed. "Me either." He considered Ford thoughtfully. "I sure do appreciate you trying though, buddy. It means a lot to me and if he were thinking clearly, it would mean a lot to Adam, too. And I know Hannah's noticed how hard you are trying."

"She's the reason I'm keeping my mouth closed. Whatever's wrong, I don't want to cause her more sorrow."

"You want to come back in?" Brian asked him.

"No. I'll finish feeding this one, and then go ahead and get my chores done - if that's okay."

"I'll cover for you." Brian said squeezing Ford's shoulder affectionately.

He was reluctant to climb the steps into the house. It was something he'd been feeling a lot lately - a reluctance to go home. It seemed there was always some problem or another that need his attention. It seemed he spent half his days either covering for Adam or running interference so no problems reached his oldest brother.

"Where you been?" Adam asked sharply as soon as he stepped inside.

"I had to manage some things in town." He said trying to keep his anger at bay.

"Are you hungry?" Hannah asked him. "There's a plate for you in the oven."

"What things?" Adam asked.

"Oh, I met with Mr. Fitzgerald about Guthrie's classes."

Adam swung around and glared at Guthrie. "You get in trouble?"

"Not that I know of." Guthrie said with a shrug.

"No, Adam. It was just some course planning stuff. Guthrie's already in advanced math, and Fitzgerald just wanted to let us know that he'll probably wind up taking some classes at the community college before he graduates."

"Oh." Adam said. "Okay." He stood his hands on his hips, a restless, ball of anger. "I guess I'll go see if Crane needs a hand." And he left abruptly. Hannah raised an eyebrow at Brian and with a weary smile she went back into the kitchen. He followed her in.

"Sure you aren't hungry?" She asked him without looking up.

"No thanks. So what was the big blow up?"

"Ford left the lower gate open." She sighed and turned to the dishes in the sink. "I'm sorry, Brian. I know that you are carrying more than your share these days." She turned the water on and began to wash the dishes. "I wish he'd . . . he won't talk to me about it, and I don't know how to . . ." She shook her head, and turned her attention to the dish in her hand.

Brian considered thoughtfully and then said, "You should have a dishwasher."

"What?" She turned around to stare at him.

"You should. You should have a dishwasher. You can buy one of those ones you hook up to the sink. It isn't that expensive. It's ridiculous you've got to stand at the stupid sink scrubbing dishes for forty-five minutes after every meal. You should have a dishwasher."

"Brian," She shook her head at him. "We've got a serious crisis on our hands, and you are distracted by the craziest things."

"He takes things for granted. He always has. He's got tunnel vision - only sees what's just ahead and mows down everything in his path." He saw her expression change. "No, I'm not being critical, I'm just stating a fact. I love him; I do, but he takes things and people for granted. And you should have a dishwasher."

"We wouldn't be in this crisis if it weren't for me." She said quietly. "Don't make me into something I'm not."

"This isn't your fault, Hannah." He told her. "You aren't blowing up at everyone."

"That's not how I avoid things."

"No, you smile and pretend to be alright."

"Brian, that's not . . ." She sighed. "It was easier when you were mad I was here. It was easier when you didn't like me."

"Well, that is your fault." He grinned at her. "You shoudn't have been so damn sweet, Sis." He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer just as Guthrie came into the kitchen.

"Hannah, do you know where I put my backpack? I can't find it anywhere."

"Oh! I'm sorry. I moved it when I was vacuuming. It's next to the piano." She smiled at him. "You haven't said one word about the dance."

"Hannah . . ." Guthrie moaned. "I'm not gonna go if you are gonna keep bugging me."

"You better ask her before someone else does." Hannah warned him, and Brian laughed. She and Guthrie had been having this conversation for days now.

"If I ask her," Guthrie paused as Hannah clapped her hands joyfully. "If I ask her and we go - you have to promise not to chaperone."

"Guth! Come on! That's not fair!"

"Promise it, Hannah! Otherwise, I'll just stay home."

"And to think I saved you the last slice of pie! Guthrie you are so . . ."

"Hannah!"

"Oh, alright, I promise." She folded her arms in mock fury.

"Alright, then I will ask her, tomorrow." Guthrie grinned at her.

"Good. Go finish your homework and after you can have that pie." She smiled warmly at him.

"Thanks Mom." Guthrie blushed and with a wink at Brian darted out of the kitchen.

Brian, still smiling set his beer down and put an arm around Hannah who had tears in her eyes. "See, you do sweet crap like that, and who wouldn't love you?" He said to her kissing her forehead. "Go on, I'll do the dishes."

"No," She sniffed. "I can do them." She turned away from him and moved back to the sink.

"Stubborn." He said and turned to go out to see what he could do about Adam.

***R***

Adam and Crane were in the barn, and Brian glanced around to see if Ford was still there, but there was no sign of him.

"What's the good word fellas?" He asked cheerfully.

"Not much." Crane said with a sigh. "That tractor is trashed."

"Dan'l will work his magic."

"I don't think the good Lord Himself could bring that thing back to life." Crane sighed.

"I don't know, we've said that before - we'll see what he can do."

"Always throwing trouble for someone else to deal with." Adam said to Brian.

The words stung and Brian found himself completely speechless. His eyes grew wide, and his face reddened with anger.

"Hey, Adam . . ." Crane began.

"Never mind." Adam said with a shake. "We'll just have to dig into our savings." He sighed.

"I got some money I set aside." Brian said quietly.

"Yeah? Well, we'll see what we can do." Adam said, turning toward the house.

Crane watched him go with one eye on Brian. "Don't let it get to you. He's just been in full jackass mode. You sure you can't tell me about it?"

"I don't know. It starting to be a problem." Brian sighed running a hand through his hair.

"You are worn out man." Crane said. "I wouldn't want you to break their trust, but I could help out."

"You do help out." Brian said smiling at him. He reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "I'll check with Hannah, first, okay?"

***7***

Hannah found Adam in the garden pulling weeds. He glanced up at her. "Gonna have some winter cukes soon."

"I saw that." She said, leaning against the fence that bordered the garden. "Adam, it's getting to be a problem."

"Hannah . . ." He rose from where he'd been bent over and tossed a couple of weeds aside. "Listen, honey, I'm sorry I've been so . . ."

"It's not me you need to apologize to." She said. "You've been sweet as can be to me. It isn't fair to them and it is especially not fair to Brian."

"Brian can manage."

He takes things for granted.

"I know you don't want to talk about it." She said. "But what about the doctor you used to talk to? Maybe you should talk to her."

"Hey, it's okay." He wiped his hands on his jeans and moved closer to her. "It's not that big a deal."

"It is, Adam." She sighed and tears pooled in her eyes. "But I understand why you don't want to talk to me about it." She cleared her throat willing herself to keep her emotions in check. "It's disappointing and it's scary because of what it might mean . . ."

"The doctor said it doesn't mean anything." His voice was fierce with anger. "Stop thinking like that."

"You are thinking it too, Adam. You are just too kind to say it to me." She reached out and rubbed his jaw, which was locked tight. "I love you, Adam and I am know you love me, but it doesn't change the fact that if I can't give you children," She waved away his protests. "If I can't give you children, it changes things."

He reached out to pull her into his arms, but she had already stepped away and was gone inside the house. He knew he should go after her. He knew she needed his reassurance, but he felt rooted to the spot - because what she said was true.

He was afraid and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He loved Hannah. He couldn't begin to explain or express how much he loved her. They'd been married just two years, but he couldn't remember any more how he had managed a life without her. He didn't want to ever remember it, either. But this second miscarriage had thrown him for a loop.

He hated - hated how much it hurt her. Every time he looked at her, he could see it - -the pain, just below the surface of her bright smiles. It wounded him; every time. And he was pissed. He'd never been so angry - that she should be hurt. He wasn't a man who expected justice from the universe - that ship had sailed long ago. He understood, better than anyone, that life was full of random and painful things, but this. He couldn't shake it. She was so wounded and he felt an unending and uncontrollable rage.

He understood that he was in trouble. He understood that he wasn't managing it well, and that it was hurting everyone around him. But somehow he couldn't stop it. Just like now, he knew that standing here and not going after her was causing her pain - was causing her more doubt. She was already fragile and unsure and yet . . . he stood rooted; a man in deep pain with no clear path before him. He knew if he didn't do something about it and soon - something terrible might happen.