Twelve: One Step Down…
Brian McFadden was not a man meant for sitting still. As a child, in school, he'd been constantly corrected by his teachers for being "antsy". He literally could not hold still. Sitting at his desk, doing math problems or reading, part of him had to be moving. He'd kick his legs in and out, doodle on his paper, crack his knuckles. Even when he tried to be still, he couldn't manage it. He remembered loathing church when he was young; not because of any dislike of the Christian doctrine he was raised on, but because trying not to move during the pastor's hour plus long sermon sent shivers running up and down his back.
In this day and age, some kind teacher would probably have suggested his parents consider Ritalin, but back then his dad just suggested he "run off" all the extra energy. Growing up, Brian played every sport he could find, and then worked his butt off on the ranch. One of the reasons he'd taken over the cooking after their mother died was because - in those first shattered days after the accident - Adam and Crane were exhausted with all the new responsibilities that were heaped on them overnight. Brian, on the other hand, was full of nervous energy that had to find an outlet somewhere.
Now sitting and waiting in this room was hell on earth for him.
They'd moved from the waiting room on the surgery floor to the waiting room on the eighth floor, where the intensive care units were. Brian had never realized there were so many different kinds of intensive care. Signs at the elevator directed visitors one way to PICU and NICU; another way to CICU, SICU, and MICU. With the exception of PICU - which Dr. Marino had explained was "Pediatric Intensive Care Unit", Brian didn't know what the others stood for.
He pushed himself up from the hard plastic couch. Unlike the waiting room outside of Surgery - which a nurse had told them had been recently redecorated in "the latest colors and furniture"- apparently those shapeless sofas and chairs were the updated version of hospital décor, this waiting room looked unchanged from the waiting rooms of ten years ago. Everything was gray: gray walls, gray carpet, gray curtains at the tinted gray windows - and plastic. Rows of hard plastic chairs were bolted to each other and to the floor, interspersed here and there with a plastic table. Only thing that looked new were the color TVs mounted in the corners of the room. The whole place reminded Brian of the bus station in Angels Camp, when he'd been there dropping off or picking Crane up while he was in college.
He paced around the room aimlessly, counting heads. Adam was back with Guthrie; Brian understood his older brother needed to be there in spite of the fact his own soul was crying out to see their baby brother, to assure himself Guthrie was still alive, that he was going to be okay.
Crane and Daniel were talking in low voices, heads together, drawing strength from each other. Looking at them Brian was struck by a pang of - something - he wasn't sure what. Not really envy. Crane and Daniel were always close, from the time Crane had first laid eyes on his new baby brother, back when Crane was barely four years old himself.
Their mother had called it the steps. You always feel a special love for the brother right above you and right below you, she had said. And in most ways it was true. Adam was Brian's best friend, always had been since he was old enough to know what a friend was. Crane and Daniel were close, almost like twins with a four-year age difference. Daniel was close to Evan too, although the two of them had some knock down drag out fights. Evan and Ford fit together like hand and glove although their personalities couldn't have been more dissimilar. And Ford could completely forget he was a teenager and romp with Guthrie like two puppies. There was a reason Guthrie had hit Ford up first for money when he was panning for gold.
Ford and Evan were as different as night and day but were still close to each other. Brian appreciated it, even though he couldn't understand it, because he and his "step lower": Crane, didn't have that kind of relationship and never had.
It wasn't that Brian didn't love Crane. He did. It was just that from the very beginning, he and Crane seemed to be on different tracks. Crane could read - really read, not just stumble through easy words - by the time he was four. Brian hated to read. It wasn't that he couldn't do it - there was nothing wrong with his brain - he just plain didn't want to. On the other hand, the chores around the ranch that Brian found so easy and so fulfilling were either difficult for the child Crane had been, or just not that interesting to him. And then, when Daniel had come along, Crane hadn't seemed to need Brian. Even after their parents had died, Crane had deferred to Adam when needed, but never, ever, to Brian.
Brian could admit - if only to himself - that sometimes he envied Crane. Envied him his brains, his talent, his way of reaching out to and understanding people. Adam called it Crane's empathy. He could put himself in other people's shoes, feel their hurts. Brian couldn't and wasn't even sure he wanted to.
He pushed the thoughts out of his mind - nothing new about them and surely not something he could deal with now - and went back to accounting for his family members. Adam was with Guthrie, Crane and Daniel were together, Evan sat next to Hannah. Neither one of them was talking, but they seemed to be okay for the moment. That just left -
Ford.
Where was Ford? He'd been there when Brian had returned with coffee and sodas from the cafeteria. But was he there when Brian had come back from getting a breath of fresh air outside?
"Where's Ford?" he asked abruptly.
Everyone looked around, startled. Crane and Hannah immediately looked guilty and worried. But it wasn't their fault. Brian didn't expect Hannah to keep track of the boys - that wasn't her job - and Crane had been busy with Daniel. Brian should have been keeping an eye on Ford. His eyes rested on Evan.
"He said he needed to be alone for awhile," Evan volunteered. "I think he was going to find the chapel."
The chapel!
Brian turned and ran, ignoring the voices that called after him.
The hospital may have been remodeled some, but Brian knew where the chapel was. He had never forgotten it. It was in the chapel of Sonora Regional Hospital, ten years before, that his life had changed forever.
Ten Years Ago:
"I thought we were going to the hospital?" Brian asked.
The sheriff didn't look at him, just stared straight ahead at the foggy road, his hands on the steering wheel in that ten and two position they talked about in Driver's Ed. "We are, Brian."
Brian knew that couldn't be true. They'd already been on the road for a long time and it was only a thirty-minute drive to County Hospital from their house. Brian had been to County Hospital a lot. Every time his mom had given birth to another brother, and when Adam got a concussion playing football and Crane broke his leg playing soccer. Not to mention Danny, Evan and Ford all seemed to take turns eating something they shouldn't, or falling from someplace they weren't supposed to be, and ending up in the ER.
He pulled Guthrie's pliant body closer to his own. The baby had gone back to sleep once they got in Mr. Barrett's big Suburban. Brian didn't understand why the sheriff was driving Tom Barrett's car; why Tom was just sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window.
But then, Brian didn't understand what was going on. Tom's wife, Carey, had woke him up and told him to help get the younger boys dressed. The downstairs had been full of people, the sheriff and two of his deputies, and Russ Wheeler and Marie from the diner in town and Mrs. Green, the pastor's wife. She'd told him Pastor Dave was at the hospital with Adam and that they all needed to go there to see him. She said, "Adam wants to see you at the hospital." But why was Adam at the hospital? And when had he gone? When Brian went up to bed, Adam was camped out on the sofa downstairs; kidding around about how he was going to wait up for their parents the way they always waited up for him.
He looked around the car, checking on all of his little brothers. Crane was in the seat behind him, Daniel on one side and Evan on the other, both of them pressed up close to him. Crane's eyes met his eyes and they were scared. Ford, like Guthrie, had fallen back to sleep, his warm body snug against Brian's side. Brian could smell the baby shampoo Adam had used to wash both Ford and Guthrie's hair before bed.
It had been such a fun evening. It always was when he and Adam baby-sat their younger brothers. As always, Mama had left dinner, this time one of her chicken and rice casseroles, which all the boys liked. But it didn't make any difference because Adam and Brian always had a special meal they made when their parents were gone. Their mom knew it; too, she always made sure the makings for the special meal were in the kitchen before she and Dad left for one of their rare evenings out. Brian didn't know why she always left something for dinner anyway when she knew they weren't going to eat it, but he'd decided that was just something mothers did.
He and Adam had made hot dogs for the kids, and French fries and chocolate milkshakes. Well, chocolate for themselves and Evan and Ford and Guthrie; Crane wanted vanilla and since he did, Daniel of course did as well.
Then, after all the chores were done, they quickly got the younger ones bathed and into their pajamas before the real fun of the evening could start. First they played games: Yahtzee and UNO and even Candyland from the old board game that was now Ford's but had originally been Brian's. Then Evan had a new game he'd got for his birthday, Clue, and they'd all played that, in teams so the younger kids were teamed up with an older brother. Crane had lobbied for Monopoly, but had been voted down. Only an idiot would play Monopoly with Crane McFadden. Not only did he always win, he dragged it out until everybody was bankrupt and it took hours.
After the games, when the little ones were already starting to doze, Brian made popcorn and hot chocolate while Adam looked for the scariest movie he could find on the old TV. Tonight they couldn't find a movie, but the educational channel out of Sonora was showing a marathon of Doctor Who. Adam, Brian and Crane had seen episodes before, but the younger kids hadn't, so they settled in to watch the Daleks try to take over the Earth. Daniel and Evan kept saying "Exterminate!" over and over again along with the Daleks. Ford had made up his mind he wanted a "K-9" for his next birthday. Brian had been just a little sad, thinking the next time their parents went out, it would just be him baby-sitting. Adam would be away at college.
"Here we are," Tom Barrett said.
Startled, Brian looked at the big building that suddenly emerged from the fog. This wasn't County Hospital. Just as he was going to ask where they were, he saw a sign that said Sonora Regional Medical Center. Sonora? What were they doing all the way over here? What was Adam doing here? And where were his parents?
He was really frightened now but trying desperately not to show it. He was the oldest here. It was up to him to take care of the younger kids. He slid out of the car. Tom stepped forward to get Ford but Brian stopped him. He handed the sleeping Guthrie over to Crane and picked Ford up himself. Daniel clung to Crane, who needed both arms to hold Guthrie. "Daniel, you hold on to Evan's hand, and I'll hold on to his other one okay?" Brian coaxed.
Daniel stared at him, his lip trembling, but obediently reached out for Evan. Then, with Evan between them, and Crane close behind with Guthrie, they followed Tom and the sheriff into the Emergency entrance.
There was a woman there waiting for them. She was pretty, but she looked really serious and maybe a little sad. She nodded at the sheriff and said quietly, "The oldest boy is waiting in the chapel."
Brian was scared, so scared he could barely force himself to walk, to follow her. Daniel was crying softly and Evan kept saying, over and over, "I want Mama. I want Mama."
It seemed to take a long time to get to the chapel. They walked for a ways and then took an elevator and then walked some more. Finally they were there. The lady - Brian didn't know her name - opened the doors and then Brian could see Adam. He was all alone, sitting in the front pew, his head down. Pastor Green was standing close by, and he must have said something, because Adam turned around and looked at them. His eyes were swollen and red but he wasn't crying, not anymore. He walked to them and took Guthrie from Crane, and then he told them all to sit down. When they did, Pastor Green and the lady and Tom and the sheriff all stepped out and it was just the seven McFadden boys.
Adam hugged baby Guthrie tightly. He didn't seem to know what to say, but finally, he got the words out.
"Mom and Dad were in an accident tonight."
Brian wanted to scream, to yell, to run away. There was a horrible roaring in his ears and he didn't want to hear what Adam said next. But Adam kept talking, saying the words.
"They didn't make it."
7Bf7B
They might have added two new wings to the hospital in the last ten years, but the chapel was right where Brian remembered it being. He ran through the double doors, then skidded to a stop when he saw Ford sitting all alone in the first pew, his head bowed.
Brian was thrown back ten years in time. Ford turned into Adam, sitting there waiting to tell his brothers that their parents would never come home again. Brian felt the way his fifteen-year-old self had that night: frightened and sad and so angry.
Then Ford moved and Brian was back in the present again, no longer a frightened kid but a grown man. One thing hadn't changed though - his younger brother still needed him. Taking a deep breath, he waked down the aisle and slid into the pew next to Ford. "Are you okay?" he asked. He winced, because really, what a thing to ask. None of them were okay.
Ford surprised him; his younger brother slid toward him and then suddenly flung himself at Brian, burying his head in Brian's chest. Brian could feel him shaking with sobs.
"Hey, hey," he soothed. "Hey. It's okay. It's going to be okay."
Ford just shook his head, refusing to look up.
"Ford, it is going to be okay. Guthrie's going to be fine." Brian tried to project assurance; a little difficult since he wasn't sure what he was saying was the truth.
Ford finally looked at him. His eyes were glistening pools in the dimly lit chapel. "Brian, you can't live without your kidneys."
Brian rubbed the back of Ford's neck reassuringly. "You heard the doctors. Guthrie's going to get dialysis."
"Dialysis," Ford repeated in a little voice. "Brian, do you know what that is? They take all the blood out of your body and run it through a filter and put it back in. It takes hours and you have to be perfectly still and even then, it doesn't cure anything. It doesn't do nearly as good a job as the kidneys do."
"But it'll be good enough for awhile." Brian had no idea how Ford had come to know so much about dialysis. "And then when he's strong enough, one of us will give him a kidney, and he'll be fine."
"What if none of us are matches?" Ford demanded. "I did some reading and-"
Brian didn't hear the rest of what Ford said, his mind focused on one thing.
"I did some reading."
Well, of course he had. Brian could have kicked himself for not thinking of that. Ford was Crane all over again. Given a problem, an unknown factor, and the first thing either of them would think about would be Read all about it! Right now, Ford probably knew more about kidney disease than all of his brothers combined.
"The doctor-" What was that other doctor's name? Brian really needed to start paying better attention. "That doctor on the transplant team. He said at least one of us would be a match."
"Dr. Kauker said there was a good chance one of us would be a match. It's statistically probable."
Good Lord, Ford sounded like a question on the SAT. "Well, statistically probable sounds pretty good to me," Brian pointed out.
Ford was quiet for a long moment. "It's my fault," he finally whispered.
"Your fault?" Brian exploded. Then he remembered where he was and lowered his voice. "How is it your fault?"
"I was with him that day." Brian wasn't sure what day Ford was referring to. "We were chasing each other, playing around. Guthrie went into the creek to try to catch me. He wanted me to play, too, but I didn't want to get wet. I splashed water on him."
Brian rubbed a shaking hand - too much caffeine - over his tired eyes. "Ford," he groaned. "How does that make it your fault? I know Guthrie. He went into that creek because he wanted to. That kid loves water. And how would you going in too, have helped? We'd have just ended up with two sick brothers."
"He's my little brother. I'm supposed to look after him. It's my responsibility. You and Adam always said-"
"Stop right there," Brian said. "We might have asked you to keep an eye on him when we were going to the movies or out on the range. But he's not your responsibility. He never was. Or at least, not any more yours than Daniel's. Or Evan's. Adam and I are the parents in this family, remember? And Hannah, now, too, I guess. Is it Hannah's fault? Adam's? Mine?"
Ford shook his head. "He's my little brother," he repeated.
"Mine, too," Brian pointed out softly. He pulled Ford close to him in a hug. "Things happen, Ford. Sometimes they happen to us. That doesn't make them your fault, or mine, or anyone else's."
"Even Dr. Meade's?"
Anger twisted through Brian, hot as a volcano. He knew Crane had talked to Adam about suing Meade for his mistreatment of Guthrie. Brian knew it wasn't the money that Crane wanted as much as to make sure something this never happened to anyone else. Crane wouldn't be happy until Meade was out of business.
Brian just wanted to beat the man senseless.
But he couldn't say that to Ford. Ford didn't deal well with anger, not his own nor anyone else's. "Meade made a mistake," he said, the words tasting like dead ashes on his tongue.
Ford's voice was bitter and old beyond his years. "His mistake could end up killing my brother."
"Guthrie isn't going to die," Brian said sharply. "One of us will be a match, and he'll be fine. He has to be."
Ford was silent for a long time. "What if he isn't?" he finally asked in a tiny voice.
"He has to be," Brian insisted.
He wouldn't accept anything else.
7Bf7B
Brian couldn't wait to get out of the chapel, but Ford insisted on staying until he prayed. Brian pointed out he could pray for Guthrie anywhere, but Ford was determined and Brian let it go. He realized belatedly that Ford didn't remember the chapel, that he'd been too little and too sleepy that night, too overcome with losing his parents to remember where he was when he found out he'd lost them.
Brian remembered though. He stood near the doors, trying not to rush Ford, looking around the small sanctuary. It was a lot smaller than he remembered; there were only six pews on either side of an aisle. The room was lit by electric lights along the walls that looked like candles. There were real candles, three of them, on a table next to the altar, along with a vase of white flowers and a plain wooden cross. Since it was inside the hospital and had no exterior walls, there were no windows, but at the very front of the room there was a stained-glass panel showing a white dove against a blue background. The panel was lit somewhat so that it almost looked like a real window. All in all, it was a quiet, peaceful place. Brian might even have liked it if it didn't hold such bad memories.
When Ford was ready, they walked in silence back to the waiting room. Ford didn't seem to want to talk and Brian couldn't think of anything to say. He put his arm around his younger brother's shoulders though, as they walked, and Ford didn't shrug it away.
He heard familiar voices as they came into the waiting room. He saw Crane and Evan and Daniel, all standing up, between Hannah and someone else. Russ Wheeler. The older rancher had his hand out, reaching toward Hannah, when Brian determinedly stepped across the room and into his face. His anger came boiling to the surface and he welcomed it. He couldn't get angry with his brothers or Hannah, and Dr. Meade wasn't here, but he could vent his anger on Wheeler and enjoy it. "Wheeler, what the hell are you doing here?" He growled.
"Brian," he heard Hannah protest. Then he noticed Cleo and Mrs. Wheeler were there, too, and Mrs. Wheeler was holding a large wicker hamper in both hands. Russ Wheeler had a paper bag in his arms, and Cleo, whose face lit up when she saw Ford, had a smaller basket.
Wheeler didn't step back but he didn't confront Brian, either. He met his eyes evenly. "We brought you some food," he said quietly. "I was at the high school this morning, for parent-teacher conferences. That new filly history teacher there was pretty mad at Adam for standing her up."
Brian remembered the conversation at breakfast the morning before about the conferences and the teacher whom he'd somehow met and offended, all without learning her name.
Wheeler kept talking. "I knew there had to be a good reason you or Adam wasn't there, so I called Dr. Mayer's office. The nurse wouldn't tell me much, but she said Guthrie had taken a bad turn. The missus and I just wanted to check on him, make sure you all had some food."
"Thank you-" Hannah started, but Brian cut her off.
"Why do you keep coming around here, Wheeler? Acting like you care all of a sudden. What? You've given up trying to steal our ranch, run us out of business, now all of a sudden you're a friend of the family?"
Wheeler sighed. "Brian, I've done some things I'm not proud of. Especially when it comes to you boys and your ranch. But I never wanted anything bad to happen to any of you. Your father was my best friend for a lot of years. And time was, you boys called me Uncle Russ and Guthrie was at our place as much as he was at home."
Brian was so mad he couldn't even speak.
"You haven't been Uncle Russ in a long time," Crane said quietly.
Wheeler nodded. "And that's my fault. I know that. I…" he looked at his wife, at Cleo who was holding Ford's hand tightly. "I got to thinking - hell, I can't even explain it. I got so focused on building my ranch up, getting rich and important, that I started cutting corners and… I didn't like the person I turned into, Crane. I haven't liked him for a long time. Figured it was time to maybe find my way back to who I used to be." He transferred the bag to Brian's arms. "I'll leave now. I know you don't trust me. You don't have any reason to. But if you need anything, if Guthrie needs anything, you can depend on me." He turned to leave.
"Did you pay Guthrie's hospital bill?" Crane asked abruptly.
Flabbergasted, Brian stared at his brother. What was Crane talking about? Wheeler paid that bill?
Wheeler hesitated, then turned around. He looked at Brian, then at Crane and Hannah. Finally, he turned to look at his wife.
"Tell them, Russ," she urged.
Wheeler shrugged, then looked Brian straight in the eyes when he answered Crane's question. "Yes. As a matter of fact…I did."
7Bf7B
Fury roared in Brian's ears. Without stopping to think, he charged the older man, belting him across the face and then, grabbing double fistfuls of shirt, shoved him against the wall. "You bastard!" he railed, shoving Wheeler hard. "What? You think can get the ranch this way? Call in a loan and take our home away?"
"Brian!" Ford yelped.
"Brian, would you think about this for a minute-" That was Crane.
Brian ignored them all. "You won't get our ranch. You hear me? I'll kill you before I let you have our ranch!"
"Brian, you've got it wrong," Wheeler said. And then Brian realized the older man wasn't fighting him, wasn't resisting at all. In spite of his anger, Brian eased back. But he kept his hands knotted in Wheeler's shirt.
"Brian! Let him go. Now!"
That was Adam's voice. Brian blinked, and looked around. Everyone was standing around them with horrified looks on their faces. Adam was standing next to him, gripping his shoulder tightly. "Let him go, Bri," he said again, voice quieter this time.
Slowly, Brian let go of Wheeler's shirt and stepped back from the man.
Two security guards ran in then, looking around wildly. They spotted Wheeler straightening his shirt and came to him, eyeing him and then Brian. "There a problem here?" one asked, his hand on his walky-talky.
"No problem," Wheeler replied, wiping blood from his nose with a handkerchief his wife handed him. "Just a little accident."
The older of the two security guards was watching Brian. "Are you sure?" he asked suspiciously.
"I'm sure. Just a misunderstanding between friends," Wheeler insisted.
They didn't look convinced but left anyway.
Brian was shaking. He clung to Adam's arm. "Are you all right?" he asked Wheeler. "I didn't mean-"
"I'm understand." Wheeler straightened his clothes and wiped his nose again. "Although I do wonder why you McFaddens always aim for my nose." His voice was light and teasing and he winked at Hannah, who looked mortified.
Brian took some deep breaths, calming himself down. He knew he shouldn't have attacked the older man, but the thought of losing the ranch to Wheeler…on top of everything else, had sent him over the edge. Bitter bile flooded his mouth. The thought of being beholden to Wheeler, of all people…
He wanted to vomit.
"How could he call in a loan that none of us ever knew he made?" Crane asked, his voice low but carrying.
Brian hadn't thought about that. He puzzled over it for a minute. Crane made sense, but why would Wheeler help them out? He took a deep breath and let it out again, feeling his body slowly relaxing.
Adam was staring at Wheeler as if he'd never seen him before. "Maybe we should talk about this?" he asked.
Cleo spoke up then, her voice shaken. "We brought lunch."
"Indeed we did." Mrs. Wheeler sat the hamper down on one of the plastic tables and opened it. "Why don't we all sit down and eat? And then I think Russ has something to tell you all." She reached over and patted Brian's arm. "I don't blame you, Brian, for getting mad, but I promise you, it isn't what you think."
Brian suddenly realized he was starving.
7Bf7B
Brian felt better once he'd finished eating two roast beef sandwiches on thick homemade bread with lettuce, tomatoes and dill pickles. Better, calmer, but really, really confused. Because what Crane said made sense. How could Wheeler call in a loan that the Mcfaddens never agreed to and never even knew about?
The impromptu picnic seemed to help everyone. Hannah took a couple of sandwiches back to Daniel, who was sitting with Guthrie, and then came back and sat down next to Mrs. Wheeler. The two womane kept the conversation going while they were eating, and it was light, frivolous stuff, mostly about the new teacher at the high school. It wasn't until every crumb of every sandwich was eaten, and they were passing around homemade brownies and apple turnovers for dessert, that the conversation grew more somber.
Strangely enough, it was Ford that spoke first. Staring at Wheeler, he said, "Guthrie thinks you blame him for Paul getting killed. That that's why you've tried to run us out, make us lose the ranch."
Brian choked on his Coke. Adam exploded, "Guthrie thinks what? Ford! Why didn't you ever tell me?"
Crane looked stunned. Hannah just seemed confused. Evan was still glaring at Wheeler, but he didn't react to Ford's statement at all. Which meant, whatever Ford was talking about, Evan knew about it too.
Wheeler sighed. His shoulders drooped. He reached for his wife's hand and held it tightly. "I don't blame him," he said slowly. "But…I think for a long time I resented that my son died and Guthrie lived. It's not right. And…I don't think that was why I was so focused on getting your ranch. I just convinced myself that I had to have the biggest spread around, had to make money, had to have something to pass on to my children." He smiled gently at Cleo. "But Del- he couldn't wait to get out of here. I think he would have anyway; he never really liked the ranch. But after Paul died…he just kept pulling away. And now," he sighed again. "Del isn't ever coming back to stay. He's studying icebergs, if you can believe that. Plans on going to graduate school in Alaska or Canada. That's his dream. I don't understand it, but I have to accept it."
He looked over at Ford and Cleo, sitting side by side. His smile was proud and a little rueful. "Then my little girl decided she liked a boy. And that boy - no, that young man, had the guts to come to me and ask to take my daughter to a dance. Even though he had to believe I would say no."
Brian hadn't known Ford had asked permission to take Cleo to the dance. From the look on Adam's face, he didn't know either. But, thinking about it, they should have realized Ford would do something like that.
"Why'd you say yes?" Crane asked.
"Oh, I started to say no. To order him off my property, to never look at my daughter again. And then I thought about it. Here was a young man who came from a good family. Who respected my daughter enough to ask her old man if he could date her. Who would value and protect my little girl." He looked at Cleo and Ford again warmly. "What more could I want for her than that? And, if I was going to let Cleo date a McFadden, maybe I'd better rethink the way I'd been acting like a horse's ass for years.
"Your daddy was probably my closest friend. Evan, you were right what you said last night. He'd be ashamed of me now. I'm ashamed of me." He sighed. "I can't fix everything I did - I didn't tell Tillis to kill your bull, but he did and I wasn't sorry about it. And yes, thanks to Mrs. McFadden there, you got one of mine," he grinned ruefully at Hannah. "But I owe you a lot more than that. Paying Guthrie's bill here at the hospital…that just seemed maybe a way I could start making amends."
He stood up and walked over to Adam, his hand outstretched. "I'll understand if you tell me to go to Hell, Adam. But I'd be honored to shake your hand. You're a good man." He nodded at Brian. "Both of you are. You raised these boys right. And your father would be proud of you all."
Adam hesitated. He looked over at Brian. Brian nodded.
Adam stood up and grasped Wheeler's hand.