TWO

Adam gasped as the earth shook beneath him. The frigid air stung his lungs as he drew it in and called out frantically, "Joe! Little Joe!"

The trembling intensified until it rattled his teeth. Then, there was a sound.

Something….

Someone's voice.

"…here. I'm…here. Adam! Wake up! You're scaring me!"

He blinked to clear his vision. It took several attempts before the skinny form leaning over him came into focus. When he realized who it was, the young man shot up and out of his rumpled bedding and clasped the little boy to his chest.

"Joe! Thank God! I thought…."

"You ain't…thinkin', older brother. You need to let me…go! A feller needs to…to breathe after all!"

Adam closed his eyes, drew several breaths, and then looked again. It was his little brother in his arms – whole and hearty and, if the truth be known, rather irate. His bewilderment deepened as his gaze shot past the little boy. Hoss was kneeling by the fire, his face turned their way. Dusty was nowhere to be seen.

Relief flooded through him.

It had been a nightmare. Nothing more.

"And here I thought I was the only one had bad dreams," Little Joe remarked as he tried to squirm free. "You must have had a whopper!"

"I guess I did," he admitted. "Quite a whopper!"

"You want to talk about it?"

Joe's lips were twisted with a wry smile. That question, of course, was the one the three of them always asked him upon waking from a night terror. He answered with the same lie. "I really can't remember it, little buddy."

The look his brother favored him with was way too wise for a decade-old kid. "Yeah. I know." Joe frowned. "You gonna let me go now?"

He hadn't released his grip. He'd been so sure Joe had been taken by Dusty's mysterious little people and their ghost horse and carried off to God-alone-knew where that he was afraid to.

"You okay?" It was Hoss who asked this time. He'd finished with the fire and come to stand beside them.

"Yeah. Just a little shaky," he answered as he surrendered his hold on the little boy and rose to his feet. "You got any coffee brewing?"

Middle brother beamed. "First thing I did, just like Pa taught us. Fact is, Ol' Dusty's already had a cup."

"Where is he anyway?" the young man asked as they headed for the fire.

"Checking the woods." Hoss threw a glance Joe's way – one little brother didn't see. "You know how it is with old people. He thought he heard somethin'."

Adam nodded. He did indeed know 'how it was'. Both Dusty and their pa were mother hens and always overly-cautious when it came to their chicks.

Even when one 'chick' was twenty-two a man.

"I got some grub on too," Hoss said, again indicating Joe. "I fixed somethin' right special for breakfast this mornin'."

For a moment Adam was at a loss and then he remembered what fear had driven out of his head.

It was Joe's birthday.

"Sounds great," the young man replied as he headed for the trees. "I'm so hungry I could eat a folded tarp! Let me take care of 'business' first and then I'll join the two of you."

Ten minutes later all of them – including Dusty – were seated by the fire enjoying the fine birthday breakfast Hop Sing had prepared and sent along. It consisted of Blueberry pancakes with syrup and hashed up potatoes with ham. When they were finished, Adam pulled out the twelve birthday cakes with their ten candles and presented them to his baby brother. They used a branch to light the candles and sang the Happy Birthday song, and then watched as Little Joe blew them out. The kid had so much lung power he did it in one fell swoop! After that, they broke camp and spent the day hunting and exploring before heading home.

The only thing missing was Pa.

Adam blinked and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before sitting up in his four poster bed. The four of them had returned to the Ponderosa late and, after bidding Dusty a 'good night', he, Hoss and Little Joe had fallen into their beds. He glanced at the clock on his desk and noted All Hallows Eve had come and gone and it was now All Saints Day.

Barely.

The exhausted young man tossed his covers aside, placed his bare feet on the floor, and used his toes to search for his slippers in the dark. As he did, he chided himself for being put out. Just the night before he'd experienced a nightmare that had left him completely out of sorts. He was actually surprised it had taken Little Joe this long to internalize Dusty's chilling tale. Just as his big toe encountered his slipper, a second scream pierced the night.

The door to his room opened, revealing a tousled head of wispy red-brown hair. "You want me to get it this time?" Hoss asked as he yawned.

"No," he replied as he reached for his robe. "You go back to bed. I owe the kid one."

Middle brother laughed. "I guess you do at that. Just holler if you need me."

"I will."

Their little brother's nightmares had been a weekly, if not daily, ritual since his mother had been killed. The matter varied with whatever was going on in their lives. Still, there had been one constant since before he went to college – a fear of horses. It was funny too since Little Joe adored the animals and was about as natural a horseman as he'd ever seen. Much to Pa's chagrin, the kid knew no fear where they were concerned during daylight hours. At night, deep in Morpheus' grip, it was another story. There, the powerful creatures became something else entirely.

Third scream. Time to go.

It took seconds to reach his brother's room at the end of the hall. The young man blinked back fatigue and shoved an unruly lock of hair out of his eyes before taking hold of the latch and pushing the door in. His gaze went to his young brother's bedstead, where he expected to find the usual torrent of covers and, in the middle of the linen storm, Little Joe's skinny form.

It was empty.

Fear gripped him for a second. It was stilled by the sound of rapid breathing. His little brother was standing in front of his window, which was open. Joe was dressed in his night shirt. He had no robe on. No slippers on his feet. The little boy's rampant curls were dancing in the icy wind.

Adam wasn't as irate as their father would have been, but he wondered what the kid was thinking.

"Little Joe. Get away from that window. You'll catch your death!"

He did, however, sound like Pa.

Egad.

The young man crossed the room and stood directly in front of his brother. The little boy's eyes were open but he didn't seem to see him. Adam reached for his arm, but stopped when he recalled something one of his college classmates had told him. Alexander was a sleepwalker. His friend explained to him how his parents had at first been frightened, but come to take in stride the fact that they would find him in the parlor playing the piano at three in the morning or practicing his dancing skills at four.

Was that what Little Joe was doing? Sleepwalking?

Adam chewed his lip and then asked, quietly, "Little Joe? Can you hear me?"

Joe didn't reply. Instead he turned back to the window and gazed out. Almost instantly his chest began to rise and fall rapidly once more as if he had taken a great fright.

There was, of course, nothing there.

"Little Joe," he said, a little bit louder. "You need to wake up. Joe?"

This time his brother whirled around to face him. Joe's emerald-green eyes were wide as the silver chargers under Pa's transferware platters. Joe's lips formed his name and then – he fell into his arms.

Adam knelt so he could hold the little boy better. He placed a hand on his curls and make shushing noises like their pa did.

"It's okay, little buddy. You're safe. I'm here."

They had a special relationship – or at least they'd had one before he went to college. When Joe's mother died, their pa lost his way for a time. It had been up to him to care for his brothers, and especially for Little Joe who was only four-years-old when Marie passed. Hoss was only ten and so, when Joe needed someone to be there for him at times like this, it was both his delight and his burden to be the one. Back then he'd been Little Joe's pa in more ways than he was his brother.

He supposed he still was.

Joe threw his arms around his neck. His brother's tears wet the shoulder of his robe. He drew him in closer since the kid's skinny frame was shaking like an autumn leaf caught in a gale-force wind.

"Hey, buddy, we need to get your robe on or get you back under the covers," he suggested. "Pa will have my head if you take a chill, and Hop Sing will keep you in bed for a month. You don't want that, do you?"

Joe murmured something, but he didn't move.

"What was that, buddy?"

The words were so soft he barely caught them. "Keep your…voice down," Joe breather. "It's…out there."

Adam frowned. "What's out there?"

His brother sucked in a breath as his head turned toward the window. "The ghost horse. It…it came to get me."

The young man resisted rolling his eyes.

When he got his hands on Dusty….

Calmly, he said, "Little Joe, you know there's no such thing. Ol' Dusty was just trying to scare you and Hoss."

"There is too such a thing!" Joe proclaimed with a little of his normal fire. "I saw it!"

"Okay. Okay. Let's talk about it. In bed." He was concerned. His brother was shivering fiercely. "Okay?"

"Only if you come with me."

Adam smiled. He'd done that before too. "Sure. And I'll stay until you fall asleep. How's that?"

Joe thrust his lower lip out. "I won't ever fall asleep again. If I do, it will come to get me."

He didn't say anything, but instead swept the little boy up and into his arms and deposited him on the bed. After he'd drawn Joe's blankets up to his chin, Adam settled in beside him.

For several heartbeats the room was silent, then he said, "Tell me about it."

Joe peered over the edge of the blanket. "I was real tired, Adam, just like you and Hoss. I fell asleep right away." He looked at the window. "It woke me up."

"The horse?"

Joe nodded. "The sound was quiet to start with, you know, like it was blowin' air out of its nose. Then it got loud. It sounded like one of the stallions when he's with his brood mares."

Adam tensed. This was too close.

"What happened next?"

"I got out of bed and went to the window and opened it." Joe scowled. "Don't tell Pa?"

He crossed his heart quickly. "Promise."

Baby brother smiled for the first time. It was a little smile, but it was a beginning.

"That ghost horse was right out there, Adam." His brother's look was one of wonder mixed with terror. "He was so big – bigger than Chubb – and so pretty; all dappled like snow when the sun comes through the trees."

"Like an appaloosa?" he asked over his unease.

"Uh huh. He just stood there lookin' up, like he knew I was here. Then he started strikin' the ground with his hooves. You know how they do that when they want you to come? " Joe drew closer to him as he finished. "I…wanted to go with him. He was so beautiful."

Adam's scientific mind rejected the possibility that there was any validity to his brother's claims – but his brother's heart felt differently. It was afraid.

Truly afraid.

"How come you didn't go?"

"I remembered Ol' Dusty's story."

"So…you thought the horse would take you away?"

Joe twisted toward him. The look on his face was beyond price. "Well, I'd have been a naughty boy if I climbed out of that window, wouldn't I?" he asked with all the logic of a ten-year-old.

Adam hid his smile. "I suppose you would have at that."

His little brother let out a long sigh. "I ain't goin' back to sleep, Adam. Ever."

"I'm not," he corrected.

"I don't blame you," Little Joe said with a yawn. "Who'd want…to go to sleep with that old…." Another yawn. "…ghost horse out there?"

And another one.

Adam coughed to hide his laughter. "You're right. I know I sure can't sleep knowing he is. How about I sit here beside you and keep guard? That way at least one of us can get some rest."

Joe looked over his shoulder at him. His eyes were barely open.

"Okay. And Adam…."

"Yes?"

"You better have Hop Sing make you somethin' for that cough, older brother. Pa will..skin you…if you catch…."

He was out.

Adam stayed where he was for a full ten minutes. Then he shifted off the bed and crossed to the window and closed it tight. After that he pushed the curtains aside and peered out. The yard was as empty as he expected, but there was something…something out there that put his teeth on edge. So much so that he went downstairs, threw his coat and boots on, and walked the perimeter of the house before dragging his sorry hide back to his own bed.

As the young man's eyes closed in sleep, he was forced to admit that it had been his imagination.

Which, apparently, was as vivid as his decade-old brother's.

To be continued…