Guthrie McFadden had two solid core beliefs that he kept tucked inside himself. They were the very foundation on which he stood: Your first loyalty was to your family; your brothers and none of them were truly orphans; they were beloved members of a solid family. Brian had violated both and he found that hard to manage.
Although, technically an orphan, he had never really felt the sting of loss. He had no memories of his parents. He had grown up at the center of a loving family. He had been encouraged, hugged, and kissed. His childhood hadn't been all that different from his friends who had parents. He been lectured, grounded, corrected, and taught just as they had. At night he'd sat down to dinner which included vegetables that he was commanded by his elders to eat. He was raised just like any other kid with people who watched over him, told him what to do and who tucked him in at night, leaning down to give him a kiss.
The only longing he'd ever had was one that had been deeply hidden and tucked away; a buried secret kept even from himself. It was only the first time that Hannah had smiled lovingly at him, that he had discovered he secretly longed for the sweet, steady love of a living, breathing mother.
And now it felt like everything he knew, everything he'd been taught, had come undone; that he himself was coming undone. He felt the bitter sting of betrayal and worst of all the wound had been delivered by a brother; a brother he had admired.
He stood at the edge of a ridge filled with a fury he couldn't quite seem to manage. He didn't know what to do about Brian. He hadn't thought for even a second that Brian had truly left; would truly leave. It violated everything he'd been taught about brother solidarity which had been drummed into him over and over and over. Adam and Brian had taught him the value of loyalty and of forgiveness, but he wasn't sure that he could apply their lessons to the dark sorrow in his heart. He heard the crunch of footsteps and knew when he turned his head, he would see Brian. He felt a strong desire to run and keep running, without ever looking back.
"Hey, partner." Brian began.
"Don't call me that." Guthrie said angrily.
"Okay." Brian shrugged and stared out into the distance unable to meet Guthrie's angry eyes. "I guess you are pretty mad."
"No. I don't care." Guthrie responded stiffly. "It doesn't matter to me. You do whatever you want."
"Guth. . ." Brian began, deeply hurt by his younger brother's air of indifference. "I can't begin to explain things to you. Did Adam tell you we fought? I hit him, Guth. We . . . it was a really horrible fight."
"He told me."
"And it was all right in front of Hannah." Brian shook his head. "I was so ashamed. I can't begin to explain to you how ashamed I was."
Guthrie glanced over at Brian who stood just to his left. "She's not mad at you."
"The hell she's not! She's pissed! But you know Hannah, she cares more about us than herself. She'll do whatever it takes so that you are okay. You're the reason she's so mad at me."
"Did you think about us at all?" His voice was a whisper.
"I thought about you every day; all the time." Brian took a step closer to Guthrie.
"But you didn't call. You didn't come home."
"No."
Guthrie sighed and stepped away from Brian. "I'm not stupid. I'm not some little kid, Brian. I know how sick of it you guys must be! I wouldn't want to have the rest of my life decided by a bunch of little kids. In two years I'll be as old as you were. I'm as older now than Crane was. I can't imagine it."
Brian studied Guthrie thoughtfully. "It isn't like that, Guthrie."
"Don't try and act like it didn't suck. It did! It still does. You spend your whole life taking care of us! Adam's just lucky Hannah's crazy. You should be finishing college. You should be getting married or running around having a good time. I feel guilty about it! And this . . . you running off! What right do I have to be mad or hurt?" He turned away from Brian.
"Guthrie . . ." He sighed. "What if Adam and Hannah did have a baby? And what if something happened to them? What would you want to do?" He looked into his younger brother's eyes.
"I . . . Brian." Guthrie sighed.
"No. what would you want to do?"
"I don't know . . ." Guthrie tried to avoid the question.
"Yeah, you do." Brian smiled at Guthrie, who stilled refused to answer. "You would do everything in your power to hold onto that baby, and make sure they understood how much they were loved. You would hold them close and sing to them, and tell them all kinds of stories about how sweet their mama was and how much their dad loved them."
"Brian . . ." Guthrie sighed. "I still took your life from you - you and Adam both. You wouldn't have had that fight if it wasn't for me."
Brian laughed. "Guthrie, Adam and I have been fighting since the day I was born! You know how it is with older brothers! They also think they know better. They are always acting like you are stupid and don't know anything!" He reached out and squeezed Guthrie's shoulder. "It's not easy growing up with brothers always telling you what to do."
"No." Guthrie agreed. He looked up at Brian. "But it was my birthday."
"Yeah. I screwed up, Guthrie. I really did."
"I waited all day long. I kept thinking you'd be there. I was so stupid." He swallowed down angry tears. "They kept telling me that you might be gone a long time; that you might choose not to come back, but I didn't listen. I didn't believe them. I knew you'd never, ever miss my birthday." He exhaled slowly and said with an aching that struck Brian to his core, "But you did."
"I was so busy thinking about myself, and my hurts. I don't know what to say Guthrie. I hurt you. I know that. I hurt you really badly. And I deserve your anger. I deserve everyone's anger. How can I possibly expect anyone to forgive me?" He hung his head. "I got lost."
Guthrie moved away from Brian and climbed up onto a large boulder, settling himself down. He sat silently, gazing out over the trees and mountains beyond. He used to come and sit here, and try to imagine what it would've been like to be on roundup with his father. He tried to imagine the man with dark hair and dark eyes that he'd seen in countless pictures alive and talking to him. He wondered what Adam, Sr. would say now about all of this; about Brian. What would his father think of him?
"Am I like him at all?" He asked Brian. "Or her? Is there anything about me that makes you think of them?"
Brian crossed to where his little brother sat and climbed up beside him. "Everything, Guth." His voice thick with unshed tears. "Everything."
Guthrie turned toward him, chewing at the corner of his lip. "You smile like her and your laugh sounds like hers. You're really funny like he was, and when you get nervous or upset, you dig your right toe in - he always did that - especially if Mama was yelling at him."
"She yelled at him?"
"Not yelled really. Kind of like when Hannah's pointing out to Adam that he messed up."
"Oh. I wish I could remember." Guthrie turned away from Brian.
"I wish you could too, pal. I wish you didn't have to remember." He put an arm around Guthrie's shoulders. "You've got her sweetness. You always have. It was pretty tough there in the beginning, but you made it bearable. I'd be so tired from school, the ranch, the brothers, and you'd crawl up into my lap - and it sort melted all away. You didn't trap us, Guthrie. You saved us."
Guthrie turned toward Brian, surprised to see tears in his older brother's eyes.
"And that's why I feel so bad about your birthday. Whatever goes on between Adam and me should never hurt you or anyone else, and this did. I know that. I know that I hurt you badly, and all the others too." He turned and looked in Guthrie's eyes. "But you gotta know even though I really screwed up, I love you, Guth. I do. And I'm so sorry. I don't think I can explain how sorry I am."
Guthrie said nothing, but leaned into Brian's embrace, burying his face in his brother's shoulder, crying. Brian held him tightly and didn't hold back from tears, so relieved to finally be able to put his arms around his youngest brother.
"I'm really sorry." He repeated.
"You owe me a beer." Guthrie said at long last, sitting back from Brian and wiping tears out of his eyes.
"That's right." Brian said with a grin. "I do." Guthrie nodded smiling at him, and even though he was fourteen, Brian leaned in and kissed his cheek like he had when he was just a toddler. Guthrie shook his head and wiped the kiss away irritated.
"Geez, Bri. Knock it off. I said, 'Beer' not kiss."
"Lighten up, Baby Brother." Brian said, the tightness in his chest finally loosening. Of course, he still had deal with Evan and Ford. A beer was sounding pretty good. "You think I should go face the rest of them?"
"If I were you, I'd run the other way." Guthrie laughed.
"Yeah. Pretty tempting. Who's your money on? Me or Ford?"
"Ford's pretty ticked." Guthrie considered. "'Course Hannah's probably been talking his ear off trying to get him to see reason."
"There's hope then." Brian said cheerfully.
"There's always hope." Guthrie agreed. He hopped down off the boulder. "Come on, brother, time to cowboy up and face that bull."
"I already did." Brian said hopping down and reaching out and running a hand through Guthrie's hair.
***7***
They could smell camp, long before they got there. Their stomachs would've driven them back if nothing else.
"You packed food?" Guthrie asked wonderingly, stepping into camp.
"Listen, I've gotten smart over time. You boys are always having some crisis or another. I just keep a bag packed and ready to go." Hannah said turning from where she was stirring a large pot of stew. She reached out wrapped her arms around Guthrie, kissing him. "You okay?"
"I'm okay, Mom." He said returning her kiss, and moving away before his brothers teased him. "Look, Brian screwed up. He apologized." He told them. "I know you're ticked off, Ford and it is for my sake, but its okay now. I mean, what he did wasn't okay, but everybody screws up." He shrugged his shoulders, and looked down at his older brother. "Well, 'cept maybe Crane."
"Oh, Crane's screwed up plenty." Daniel said good-naturedly. "You ever notice his stories about college seem to skip his second year?"
"Listen, Dan'l. If we start telling the stories we know, it won't be pretty." Crane pointed out. "You don't want to injure Hannah's sensibilities. She's been through enough."
"Always thinking of others." Daniel said to Crane with a grin. He turned to Ford. "What do you say Ford? You and Evan wanna lay in a few good hits on Brian before we call it even?"
"Maybe." Evan said, eyeing Brian. Brian felt his whole body tense at the sharp tone of his volatile brother. "But, he's kind of old. It seems wrong to hit an old guy like him." He turned to Ford. "I say you and me make a pact to completely ignore his next birthday."
"That seems fair." Ford agreed. Brian exhaled then, and shaking his head moved to the campfire where Adam had just tossed on another log. He sat down beside his older brother. "I may have aged seventy years today."
"Sounds like your average day at the Circle Bar Seven." Adam reached behind him, and pulled out a beer. "Throw the kid a beer, and you can relax by telling us all about this girl of yours." Adam grinned maliciously as his brothers exploded with questions. Ignoring them, Brian rose and crossed the campfire, handing the beer can to Guthrie who, looked up into his older brother's eyes with admiration and love.