A/N Sorry this update took so long! It's a long chapter though, hope that makes up for it.

Warning for language, including use of the f-bomb.

Thirteen: One Step Up, One Step Over

Hannah jerked awake from a restless, dream filled doze. She looked around, a little puzzled to find herself in her bedroom, covered with a quilt and her arms wrapped around Adam's pillow.

The room was filled with the shadows of dusk. A quick glance at the noisy wind-up alarm clock on Adam's nightstand told her she'd been asleep over four hours.

Since Guthrie's hospitalization, sleep had been something the whole family had squeezed into tiny pockets, cat naps at the hospital, longer but no more restful hours here at the house. Night ran into day which ran into night. Hannah was at the hospital most of the time, either in Guthrie's room or in the Pediatric waiting room or down in the cafeteria. Brothers wandered in and out, somehow managing to keep up with the chores and schooling and still be at the hospital most of the time. She shuddered to think what midterm grades were going to look like for the school-age members of the family.

Today though, after the meeting with all the doctors, the whole transplant team, Adam had ordered everyone home. Everyone but himself. He stayed with Guthrie, but Hannah and Brian and Crane shepherded the younger boys back to the ranch. It was a school day, but the whole family had needed to be at the meeting, and no one was inclined to force Evan and Ford back to school for a few hours afterwards. Once they got home, Brian and Evan disappeared to the barn to take care of the stock. Daniel and Ford headed directly upstairs. Crane had simply stood in the alcove of the living room where his desk was, staring out the window.

Hannah had stood for a few minutes, thinking about the dirty clothes that had to be overflowing the laundry room, but she didn't have the energy to deal with any of it then and went upstairs herself.

Now, she shoved off the quilt and sheets and jumped out of bed. She was hungry for the first time in days, and she imagined everyone else in the house was too. She couldn't remember the last hot meal she'd cooked. Meals lately had been sandwiches, canned soup heated quickly on the stove, or whatever the hospital cafeteria was serving. Lois Wheeler, who was becoming a real friend, tried to bring something to the hospital every other day or so, and Marie had twice driven over with hamburgers and pie. But with everyone home tonight, save for Guthrie and Adam, she wanted to cook a real meal.

There was nothing thawed out, but there were always fresh eggs, courtesy of the little flock that pecked their way around the barnyard. Bushels of potatoes from the garden were stored in the cellar, and if she could find some cheese, she would make frittatas. For a time, Hannah had shared a tiny apartment in Denver with a girl named Carla Donetti, who had taught her how to make the traditional open-faced Italian omelet. She'd never made one here, but it would be perfect tonight, light but filling. Given what the doctors had told them this afternoon, there was going to be some heavy conversation around the dining table.

Hannah couldn't even figure out how she felt. On one hand she was joyful, knowing there was a way to save Guthrie's life. On the other hand…how did they choose which brother to donate a kidney? How would that affect the future? She knew Adam had hoped one of the oldest brothers would be a match. But Brian and Adam had been ruled out right away due to incompatible blood types. And now they knew Crane wasn't an option either.

"How do I decide which brother to risk for Guthrie?" Adam had whispered to her as they clung to each other in mingled relief and fear.

She rummaged around the closet to find some clean clothes. The house was chilly, so she settled for jeans and a heavy wool sweater from her Denver days. Tiptoeing down the hall to the bathroom, she stopped to peek into Crane and Daniel's half-open door. Daniel was sprawled out on his stomach, sound asleep. Crane wasn't there, and his bed didn't look like it had been slept in. The door to Evan and Ford's room was firmly shut. She paused outside it, but couldn't hear anything from inside.

In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face and pulled her hair up into an untidy knot on the top of her head. She missed Adam. She knew he had to be with Guthrie, but she wished she had stayed at the hospital with him. Somehow, she wasn't so frightened when she was with her husband. Even though she knew how sick Guthrie was, she couldn't believe anything truly bad could happen to him when Adam was nearby.

She saw Crane sitting at the desk in the alcove downstairs. He was intently staring at the checkbook, the big ledger they tracked expenses and deposits next to him. He had a cup of coffee steaming beside him. She didn't see Brian and didn't want to disturb Crane, so she quietly went into the dining area.

And stopped dead in her tracks.

The dining room table practically groaned under a load of baked goods. Beautiful layer cakes, fruit pies, whole loaves of white and wheat and who-knows-what-kind of bread. A platter of cinnamon rolls, wrapped with Saran wrap. Plates of cookies, scenting the air with their fragrance.

Stunned, Hannah wandered into the kitchen, only to find more food crammed on every available surface. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a large covered Tupperware container. Peeking inside, she saw a whole brisket, beautifully cooked and already sliced, surrounded by tiny red-skinned potatoes, cut in half and dusted with dried parsley. Casserole dishes of every type and design packed the shelves. One contained homemade macaroni and cheese, another chicken and dumplings. A large Pyrex baking dish was covered with aluminum foil and full of chicken spaghetti. Another held Beef Stroganoff, with what had to be homemade noodles.

There was enough food to feed everyone in Carbon county, and probably the adjoining counties, as well.

"Where did this all come from?" she asked aloud.

She wasn't expecting an answer, and was surprised when she got one.

"It's the women in the county's way of dealing with bad times," Brian announced from the back door. "When the going gets rough, the women start cooking with Campbells."

Crane came into the kitchen then, for more coffee. He didn't appear surprised at the spread, but then, he had to have seen it before when he made the coffee. "Somebody brought beef tenderloin," he commented flatly. "It's Daniel's favorite."

Hannah just stared at her two brothers in law. "But…how did it all get here? And why now?"

Brian shrugged. "Who knows? At least it's not for a funeral this time." He cut himself a slice of chocolate cake and said, "Hey, Crane, pour me a cup of that coffee, will you?"

Crane was glaring at Brian. "There isn't going to be a funeral," he growled.

Brian slammed the plate with the cake down on the table, hard. " I know that! Can I have a damn cup of coffee, please?"

Sometimes when Brian and Crane got to wrangling with each other, Hannah thought they sounded younger and more obnoxious than their entire complement of baby brothers combined.

Crane deliberately put the coffee pot back on the stove. "Get it yourself."

"Guys." Hannah had learned not to get in the middle of Brian and Crane's disagreements. Adam didn't even interfere, unless fists started flying. But now, she felt she had to say something. "It's okay. It was good news."

For just an instant, both brothers transferred their glares to her. She didn't flinch, and the men quickly dropped their gazes. Lord, she wondered how Adam had managed to get them to adulthood. If this is what they acted like when they were grown, how much worse had it been when they were teenagers? She had a mental flash to Daniel and Evan's last battle, over something. It of course happened at the dinner table and she'd honestly expected the blue and white Willow patterned china to start flying before they were done.

The thing about Daniel and Evan, though, was that they recovered quickly. They might be fighting at the beginning of a meal and back to being best buddies by dessert.

Crane and Brian, though, could keep an argument going for hours, if not days. Brian could hold a grudge forever - he'd taken his own sweet time warming up to her, after all - and Crane was a brooder.

Now though, she had a feeling they weren't mad at each other as much as they were reacting to the days of stress and nights of little sleep. And the information the doctors had given them that morning had been unexpected, to say the least.

Brian's shoulders lost their set stance and he sighed. "Statistical anomaly. Thought I wouldn't hear words like that once I finished high school."

Crane picked up the coffee pot and poured another mug of the dark brew, handing it to his brother without a word. "Statistical improbability. I knew there was a reason I hated Statistics."

Brian took a sip. "They told us we'd be lucky if one person matched, a miracle if it were two. But no, we have three brothers who can donate a kidney to Guthrie."

"And that is great news!" Hannah pointed out.

"Yeah, I know. It is," Brian said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

Crane dropped into a seat at the table, picked up an oatmeal-raisin cookie and stared at it as if he'd never seen one before. "It never occurred to me. I was sure at least one of us would be a match, but I never thought it wouldn't be me, or you, or Adam."

Brian's lips quirked in a grin. "You're not the only one who never thought of that. Hell, I don't think even Adam ever thought about that." He transferred his gaze to Hannah. "What about you?"

"I never thought about who," she replied softly. "I was just praying for a match."

Crane and Brian both nodded. "That's what's important," Crane conceded. "But how do we decide which one does it?"

"Well, Evan's out. Don't you think?" Brian directed it at Crane.

"Of course."

"Wait," Hannah inserted. "Why is Evan out? He's the closest match!"

Both men stared at her. She stepped back, feeling self conscious around them for the first time in a long time. She stepped over to the sink, only then noticing two crockpots on the counter. Neither one was the battered thing Brian had used to feed the family for ten years. She lifted one lid. A delicious odor met her nose. It seemed to be a hearty soup, with hamburger, tomatoes, elbow macaroni and several types of beans. There was a piece of tape affixed to the pot, with the name Kristen Moore and a phone number scribbled on it. Hannah sighed in relief. With any luck, most if not all the food containers would have an owner's name somewhere on it. Then, remembering the conversation, she turned around and looked at her two brothers in law.

"If Evan donates a kidney, he'll have to kiss his rodeo dreams good-bye," Crane said gently.

Hannah felt herself flushing. She'd not thought about that. The doctors had said that the donor would be able to live a normal life after recuperating from the surgery. If the normal life didn't include things like football, or wrestling, or parachuting from planes. He hadn't mentioned rodeo, and Hannah had been so relieved that Guthrie would have his kidney and that football season was over for Daniel and Evan she hadn't even thought about anything else. Now she nodded, remembering how Evan had been thrown by that bucking horse four or five times in his tryouts for Cooper Johnson's rodeo school. If anything, rodeo was probably even more dangerous than football.

"He'd donate anyway," Brian said.

"Well, of course he would. But fortunately he won't have to."

"So, Daniel or Ford."

The two brothers stared at each other, seeming to forget Hannah was even in the room.

"Daniel's the oldest," Brian said. To Hannah, he sounded guarded, like he wasn't sure how Crane would respond to that statement.

But Crane just nodded. "He is. And he only has a few classes, he could keep up with them even during the time he's out of school. I - we can help him. So he can graduate on schedule."

"Doubt he'd much care."

Crane managed a grin. "You're probably right. But it's important he graduates. You know how Adam feels. But Daniel doesn't want to go to college anyway, no matter how Adam feels about that."

Brian nodded. "Ford…" he started and then trailed off. "He's got it in his head somehow that he's responsible."

Crane frowned. "Responsible for what?"

"Hell if I know. I get the idea he thinks it's his fault Guthrie went into the creek in the first place. And then - remember that saying Mama used to say? About how you're always closest to the brothers on either side of you? The steps thing?"

"Well…yeah, I remember that. But how does Ford remember that? He wasn't much more than a baby himself."

"What's the steps thing?" Hannah asked.

"Oh," Brian looked chagrinned. "I'm sorry, Hannah, I didn't mean to leave you out. It was just a saying our mom had. She called us all steps. You know. Adam was the first step, I was the second, like that. And she would tell us that You're always closest to the brothers on either side of you."

"She was right about that," Crane noted. "Although I doubt she ever thought about something like this."

Hannah noted Brian looking at Crane with a surprised look on his face.

"I think Daniel would be the best choice," Crane said. "He thinks that, too."

"You talked about it already?" Brian asked. He got a stack of plates out of the cupboard. Hannah was busily moving food around so they could have room to sit and eat at the table. "Ford's probably going to argue with us about it."

Crane had a handful of silverware in his hands. He shrugged. "Well, probably. We can talk with them both tonight. But at least we know Evan's out of it."

"Like hell I am!"

Hannah had been so intent on finding places for all the food, and listening to Crane and Brian, that she hadn't noticed Evan entering the room.

Evan wasn't alone. Both Ford and Daniel were with him, but Evan stormed right up to Brian and got in his face. "I'm the closest match!"

Daniel was right behind him, although Hannah couldn't tell if he was trying to get Evan to back off, or trying to step in between him and Brian in case Brian decided to take offense. "Evan, come on…"

"Evan, you can't donate," Brian said, obviously trying to be calming and just as obviously failing miserably at it.

Crane was on his feet too, trying to pull Evan's hands from Brian's shirt. "Think about it. What about the rodeo?"

Daniel shot Crane a look of exasperation, even as he kept softly talking to Evan. Hannah couldn't hear what he was saying, but she heard Evan clearly enough when he yelled out, "Fuck the rodeo!"

Brian and Crane both looked at Hannah, then back at Evan. "You watch your mouth," Brian chided. "We're in the house, not the barn."

Evan's face was bright red, and tears trickled from his eyes even as he let go of Brian and collapsed back into Daniel's waiting arms. "Do you honestly think I'd let Guthrie die just because I want to ride in some stupid rodeos?"

"Of course not," Crane said soothingly. "But that's the point, Evan, you don't have to give up your dreams. Daniel or-"

"Oh God," Ford moaned. Everyone seemed to freeze, then turned to look at him. He was staring around the kitchen and dining room with a look of horror on his face. "Why's all this food here? What's going on? There's no funeral. There isn't going to be a funeral! Guthrie's going to be fine!"

This was the second time in five minutes a McFadden brother had mentioned food and funerals in the same breath. Hannah realized, Of course! The neighbors, the church people…they must have all brought in food when their parents were killed.

"Of course he is," Brian said, starting toward Ford. Before he could get there, Evan shot him a look that would have frozen fire. Evan pulled away from Daniel, going to Ford and tugging him into a full bear hug. Daniel hesitated briefly, then wrapped both his younger brothers in his arms.

For several minutes there was quiet, the only sounds in the kitchen the hum of the old refrigerator and Ford's muffled sobs. No one seemed to know what to do, what to say. Brian looked helplessly at Crane, who suddenly looked so exhausted Hannah had to wonder how he was staying on his feet.

"Guys," she said hesitantly. "Why don't we all just sit down and have supper?"

"What are we going to eat?" Daniel sounded like a little boy.

Looking around at all the food, Hannah had to admit it was overwhelming. All this food sitting around and yet what could she put on the table to make a meal?

Then she remembered the soup. She quickly moved to the crock pot and opened a drawer to get a ladle. "Soup and sandwiches," she said brightly, remembering the brisket in the refrigerator. It wasn't ideal; they'd been eating too many sandwiches lately and canned soup as well, but this was different. Homemade soup, fresh baked bread. Somehow she knew it wasn't so much what they ate as the fact they were all sitting around the table, together. Well, almost all together.

Daniel was the first one to move. "Sounds good to me!" he said, his voice too loud, too cheerful to be real. He patted Evan on the shoulder. "Come on…I can hear your stomach growling from here. Yours too, Ford."

Ford raised his tear-stained face from Evan's shoulder. "I'm not hungry," he started.

"Boy, don't you know no McFadden ever says that?" Brian intoned, bringing a stack of bowls over to Hannah. He took the ladle from her hand and started filling the bowls, while she went back to the refrigerator and took out the container of brisket. Sitting it in the center of the table, she went back for mayonnaise, mustard, and two different kinds of pickles; then grabbed up a couple of loaves of bread. Crane finished handing out plates and silverware, then brought a gallon of milk over to the table and started pouring it into glasses. Evan somehow got Ford to sit down, Daniel next to him, and then slid into his seat across the table.

The soup turned out to taste as good as it smelled; the brisket was so tender it practically melted in your mouth. It's a real waste to use this in sandwiches, Hannah thought to herself, but she didn't think tempers would have held while she warmed the meat and potatoes in the oven. She thought wistfully of someday having one of those new microwave ovens. They had one in the cafeteria of the hospital for people who brought their own food and just needed to heat it up. Hannah had watched a nurse one day pop a dish of spaghetti in there and a minute or two later it was piping hot, almost like a miracle. But it'd be a long time - if ever - before one would ever grace the McFadden kitchen. There was one in the new Sears catalog but it was over six hundred dollars. That was more than a refrigerator cost, and God knew, they needed a new one of those.

The tension around the table ratcheted down a notch. But there wasn't much conversation. It seemed almost eerily silent, given how noisy mealtimes usually were. Hannah thought with longing about her first nights at the ranch, how everyone had been talking and talking over everyone else; well, except for her, of course. They hadn't known what to do with Hannah in their midst any more than she'd known how to interact with them. Had that only been five months ago? It seemed like forever.

It was like everyone was deliberately avoiding the one topic they all wanted - needed - to discuss. Guthrie. Guthrie and which of his brothers was going to give him a life-saving kidney. And risk his own life in the process, Hannah added silently. The doctors had been brutally honest that morning. There were good odds the donor would recover without problems, but there was always a chance something could go wrong. Infection, adverse reactions to the anesthetic, shock…

She knew Daniel, Evan and Ford well enough to realize the potential risks wouldn't stop any of them from doing what they needed to do for Guthrie. But had they been listening when Dr. Kauker had listed the restrictions for someone with only one kidney? The same guidelines Guthrie would have to live with the rest of his life would apply to whichever brother donated a kidney. Admittedly, when you weighed Guthrie's life against the list of "Never do"s, it didn't seem that important. Unless, of course, you were Evan McFadden, just dying to become the Next Big Rodeo Star.

Evan had every reason to not want to donate a kidney, and every excuse not to as well. It was true, he was a slightly closer match, but only by a very small margin. Dr. Kauker had said it was barely enough to mention. The chances of Guthrie's body rejecting Evan's kidney were only barely less than his body rejecting Daniel or Ford's kidney.

They were so young; Guthrie the youngest of all of them. Too young to have their lives decided before they even actually started. Tears sprang to Hannah's eyes suddenly, and she looked down before anyone could see them. She remembered somebody at church one morning talking about how selfish teenagers could be. Well here were Daniel, Evan and Ford, still in their teens, willing to put their lives, their futures on the line, for their baby brother. Hannah knew how Adam, Brian and Crane felt. They would much rather have risked their own lives than ask their younger brothers to. But no one was asking Daniel, or Evan, or Ford. They didn't need to be asked. They were lined up and waiting, arguing over who would be the one to give up a vital body part for Guthrie.

Hannah couldn't have been more proud of this family if she'd been born into it.

"How much does a kidney transplant cost, anyway?" Ford asked.

Crane was leaning on one elbow, his eyes half closed. "Fifty thousand dollars," he said sleepily.

Hannah felt her heart leap into her throat. Adam had said he and Crane had met with someone to talk about costs, but fifty thousand dollars?

"What?" Ford dropped his spoon in his soup and darted up from his chair, face blanched white and eyes staring wildly. "We have to have fifty thousand dollars before-?"

Evan was up, too, looking as terrified as Ford. "Guthrie can't…how are we going to get that money in time?"

"Crane!" Brian thundered, dropping his napkin.

Crane seemed to wake up suddenly. He looked wildly around at all of them, and then shook his head violently. "No no, guys, I'm sorry. No! It's not what you're thinking. Please! Everyone just calm down. Ford, Evan, it's okay. Please. Just calm down."

It wasn't just Ford and Evan who needed to calm down. Daniel honestly looked like he was going to pass out and Hannah felt the same. Brian took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Okay, everybody, let's just let Crane tell us what's going on. Right, Crane?" There was acid in his tone.

Evan hesitated, then sat down again. Ford just stood there, shaking.

"Please, Ford?" Hannah could barely force her lips to move, but Ford heard her and dropped into his seat as if his strings had been cut.

Crane leaned forward. "Okay…Adam and I met with, it's like a finance committee at the hospital that is involved in - well, really expensive procedures. Transplants, because they do cost a lot. The fifty thousand…that comes from-" He stopped, seemed to rethink what he was saying. "The best hospital for a child - someone Guthrie's age, to get a transplant around here would be Children's Hospital of San Francisco. But to even get on their list, the family has to have fifty thousand dollars upfront. Even if it's a family member donating, like with us.

"Sonora Regional…they've done several transplants so far. Mostly kidney, but a couple of other kinds, too. They're trying to get, well, they call it accredited. Like, nationally known, the kind of place other hospitals refer to when they have a patient that needs a procedure. Because they're working on that, they're eligible for grants and programs. Like they have a grant from St. Jude's Children Hospital, and places like that. So, the cost for Guthrie to have his transplant here is more like twenty-five thousand dollars." He held up a hand before anyone could say anything. "But we don't have to have it up front. It's kind of hard to explain, but the hospital, well, actually, the foundation behind the hospital, will loan us the money, in a way. In return for Guthrie having his surgery at Sonora Regional, and the hospital gets to use his case in their accreditation process, and for education, and marketing, as well. I mean, we'll eventually have to pay it back, but there won't be any interest or a time limit on it."

"Marketing?" Ford repeated. "Like they're going to use Guthrie in a commercial, or something?"

Crane nodded. "Well, they could. Yes. If everything goes…" he stopped.

"They're using Guthrie as a guinea pig?" Brian hissed. "And you and Adam agreed? Where the hell was I?"

Crane glared back with fire in his eyes. "He's not an experiment! They've done transplants…seven kidney transplants in the last year. And what choice do we have, Brian? You have any idea how we'd pay for it otherwise? Because I sure as hell don't!"

Hannah cast desperately around for something to relieve the tension. Brian subsided in his chair but his face was dark with anger and some fear. Crane really looked to be at the end of his rope. She knew with sudden insight he hadn't been getting even a little amount of sleep. Crane worried about finances. From what Adam had told her, he always had, ever since they lost their parents and became a "family of orphans".

Fifty thousand dollars was an unreachable amount for the McFaddens. It might as well have been millions; they had about the same chance to pull the money together.

Evan and Ford were glancing back and forth between the older brothers worriedly. Right now they needed stability, not hostility.

Daniel came up with a solution, or at least a distraction. He jumped up from the table suddenly and zeroed in on one of the many cakes Hannah had moved off the table. "Is this…yeah it is! Look, guys, Mrs. Hannigan's apple spice cake!" He moved the cake over to the table and then grabbed a pile of dessert plates from the cabinet. "Wait until you taste this, Hannah," he said, cutting large slices. "This is the best stuff ever. Brian tried for months to reproduce the recipe."

Brian's shoulders relaxed and he eased back in his chair. "Tried being the key word there."

"Sounds like it would be good with coffee," Hannah chimed in. "I'll make some fresh." She seriously doubted more coffee would keep anyone awake this night.

For the rest of the meal, the family firmly avoided any talk of Guthrie, the hospital, or the upcoming surgery. Instead, the brothers took turns coming up with reasons why the church ladies would have picked now to start bringing all the food.

Ford and Evan started automatically gathering all the dishes as everyone finished eating. In theory, dishwashing was a job shared between the brothers. In practice, however, no matter who washed dishes, Guthrie always seemed to be the one drying them. Hannah had to fight back a sob, she wished so much the youngest McFadden was there right now, with his family, healthy and whole.

She blinked tears away and put her hand on Evan's arm as he turned on the hot water in the sink. "It's okay. You go on. I'll wash them tonight." She wanted to sink her hands into hot soapy water; wanted to sink into a mundane task and let her mind just rest.

Besides, every time Evan washed dishes, he broke at least two of them.

Crane wandered back out to the living room. Ford was pulling a clean towel out of the drawer but Brian took it away from him. "My turn tonight," the older brother said gently. "You go on, now."

Hannah heard the soft sounds of a guitar; Crane had started strumming. She really hoped the younger three would join him and start making the beautiful music they shared. It was so much a part of their lives on the ranch, but it had been absent lately.

Her hopes were in vain. The three younger brothers all went upstairs. Crane fingered random chords for a while and then she heard him put the guitar down. A few minutes later the front door opened and closed.

"He's going to have an ulcer by the time he's thirty," Brian said gruffly, polishing a plate so roughly Hannah half expected the pattern to disappear.

She didn't know what to say. That was okay as Brian kept talking. "He always holds things in. Always did, since he was little. I'd yell and bust stuff up, Adam would jump around and throw his hat on the ground - you've seen him do that. He'd hit things too, but not like me. Crane would just get quiet. It's like he doesn't think he has the right to blow up like the rest of us do." He put the plate away and picked up a bowl. "Don't know where he gets it from. Mama had red hair, and a hot temper, but she couldn't hold a grudge. And Daddy - Adam is him all over again. Ford's more like Crane, though. And gets more like him the older he gets. Dan'l's like Adam - that's why they get into it sometimes. And Evan, well, you've said it, he's a little me. 'Cept he gets over it faster. Picked that up from Mama, I guess."

"What about Guthrie?" Hannah asked, almost afraid to say his name.

"Guthrie," Brian sighed. "He's a little bit like all of us. But mostly, he's just so sweet."

Hannah nodded. She knew that.

"He doesn't remember our parents," Brian went on. "Not a thing. He was too little. To him, Adam is his daddy. He never says it, but I know that's the way he feels."

"And you're his mama?" Hannah gently teased.

Brian cracked a grin. "Maybe I was the mother-substitute. But you're the real thing. Don't you know that?" Then the smile vanished. "Oh, God, Hannah, we can't lose him. I can't lose him. I don't think-" Tears started sliding down his face.

Hannah turned to face him, pulled the towel away. "We're not going to lose Guthrie, Brian. He's going to be fine. He has to be fine."

She and Brian finished the dishes in silence. Then Brian muttered something about checking the stock again and practically ran out the back door. Crane hadn't come back in. Briefly, Hannah thought about going out to look for him, then realized that was probably what Brian was doing. She decided to do some laundry before she went to bed. She knew the big hamper in the bathroom upstairs needed to be emptied, so she went up to get it.

There was actually a laundry chute built in connecting the bathroom to the laundry room. However, there was something that blocked it and no one had used it since long before Hannah had come to live at the ranch. She'd heard Daniel teasing Guthrie once about dropping him down the chute when he was a baby, but she didn't know if that was true or just a family story.

She was walking past the closed door of Evan and Ford's room when she heard voices. She hesitated, not wanting to eavesdrop, but then she heard her husband's name and drew closer.

"There's another reason it needs to be me. It would make it easier on Adam. And Brian." That was Daniel's voice.

Evan spoke next. "There's no way this is going to be easy on Adam or Brian, no matter who donates."

"Yeah, but I'm an adult."

"Who says?" Evan fired back.

"The law does, Evan! I'm eighteen."

"You're still in high school," she heard Ford say softly.

"Yeah, but I'm still legally an adult. Which means I can sign my own consent forms. Adam is your legal guardian, both of you. If it's one of you, he'll feel responsible and he's already blaming himself for Guthrie."

"It wasn't his fault. It was mine."

She heard a snort. "Damn it, Ford, cut it out! It wasn't your fault. If it's anybody's, it's Doc Meade's. Still can't believe he had the nerve to show up at the hospital."

"Evan's right, Ford. It's not your fault. And Evan, you can't donate. Your future is at stake. You lose a kidney, and you'll never ride in another rodeo. Adam'd never let you. Besides, you couldn't get insurance, I bet the promoters wouldn't let you in."

"Well, what about your future?"

She heard a sigh. "Me having one less kidney won't affect my ability to make music. It only makes sense for it to be me."

There was silence after that, and Hannah blushed as she realized how long she been standing there listening. Abruptly she pulled away and went into the bathroom. She took one look at the bulging hamper and decided against doing laundry tonight. She quickly got ready for bed, brushing her teeth and washing her face, then made her way to the master bedroom.

She didn't think she'd be able to sleep after the long nap this afternoon, but surprisingly she fell asleep soon after she'd turned out the lights. She must have gone into a deep sleep because when someone started pounding on her door she leapt up, heart in her throat, for a moment not even knowing where she was.

"Ford!" It was Evan's voice, getting louder and then fading as he apparently ran up and down the hall. She jerked her door open.

Daniel and Crane were in the door to their room, Daniel yawning and blinking sleep from his eyes. Evan was halfway down the staircase, running into Brian, who was dressed in his usual sleepwear of a white cotton t-shirt and boxers. Remembering she was just wearing her gown, Hannah yanked her robe off the hook on the back of the door and shrugged it on.

The hands of the clock pointed to three-thirty in the morning.

"What's going on?" Brian demanded of all and sundry.

"It's Ford!" Evan was breathless. "I woke up, and he's gone! And the truck is too."

Crane sighed. "Well, there's only one place he would go."

Daniel spoke up, his face darkening. "He still feels like it's his fault. Like he has to make it up to Guthrie, somehow. He went to tell Adam he should be the donor!"

To be continued…