The events referenced in this chapter are from The Initiation (season 14), for any interested. :-)

"How is Jamie?"

He hadn't heard Lina approach, so intent was he on the door across the road. Joe looked around to find her leaning against the livery beside him, a half-full shopping basket at her feet. Joe shook his head thoughtfully, returning his scowl to the harness maker's entrance.

"Hard to tell."

"Oh?" she nudged gently. Joe sighed and removed his hat, wiping the sweat from his hair and forehead before resettling it and kicking aimlessly at the wall behind.

"He ain't been talking much."

"The death of a friend is a hard thing, especially at Jamie's age."

"Yeah." He knew that well, and from experience. "But with all the rest of it thrown on top …"

"Indeed."

The death of young Sonny Mueller had hit the community hard, but the subsequent trial of an out-of-work drifter and the admission by Jamie and his friends of an accidental death during a club initiation was what had really set Virginia City to talking. The gossip still hadn't completely died down, even weeks later. Joe would have been reluctant to bring Jamie into town with him, except that the boy was in school every day and had probably already heard it all (and more).

Joe shrugged. "None of 'em have been talkin' much to each other, except at school. I mean, most of the boys are bein' kept close to home anyway, and you know the Widow Hawkins took in Ted Hoag after it was all said and done, so he's more than occupied." They shared a brief, dry smile, "But … well, I don't know about the others, but it's like Jamie doesn't really even care." He rubbed at his neck. "No, he does care, but … right now he seems fine just bein' at home, and I don't know if that's a problem startin' or if he's just gettin' his feet back under him." He kicked at the wall again. "Thing like this, you never know how it'll all shake out in the end."

"What does your father think?"

"Bout the same. He says we should just leave Jamie alone for a while, let him work things out in his own head."

"You don't agree?"

Perceptive woman, Lina Marquez. Always.

"I ain't been too much help with Jamie lately, don't know if I have that right." A brief snort rose from beside him, and Joe grinned faintly. "But no, I don't. I think he's been alone too much already." And for longer than just this business with the club. "Jamie's an independent kid, but … I don't want him to feel like he ain't important." Regret swirled alongside worry, and Joe welcomed them. Until very recently he hadn't been feeling anything outside of his own pain and hurt. It was good to concentrate on somebody else's needs, to be able to pull together the focus to think what might be best for Jamie instead of just sleepwalk through his little brother's crisis. "Pa's always been more hands-off with Jamie than he was with the rest of us. Don't know if he's trying not to repeat past mistakes, or if he's just older and sees things different now, or what … but I don't think right now's a time for hands-off."

It was … hard, yes. Sonny Mueller's tragic death—a kid Jamie's age who'd had everything to live for—reminded him enough of Alice and of Hoss that what he'd really wanted when they'd heard was to go hide in a line shack and sleep for the next week. He hadn't, though, and this thing with Jamie now … it wasn't overwhelming.

He was proud of that. He was proud of himself, for the first time in a long time.

And he knew what he intended to do, even if it was hard enough to rip his heart right out of his chest.

"What does your father say to this? Or have you …"

He didn't notice, not at first. He was busy turning it all over in his head. Again. It was a good idea, on second and even third thought, and it didn't go directly against Ben's word on the matter. "I'm not gonna try and push—Pa or Jamie. But I think if I …" Lina's abrupt silence finally caught up to him, and Joe looked down at her. "What's wrong?"

Lina shook herself, pulling her gaze away from somewhere down the street. Joe eyed the area, but saw nothing out of place. "I'm sorry." She turned a smile up on him, and it was tight. "But I've remembered an errand that can't wait. I need to go."

She reached for her basket, but he caught her arm. "Lina." She looked away. "Are you sure it's nothing?"

"Yes, of course." Lina pushed loose hair back into her braid. "I'm sorry, I only … I forgot that I promised Señor Hirschel an extra batch of empanadas for his wife. He'll be leaving soon."

That didn't … sound right. It was plausible, but it didn't match her eyes. "What aren't you tellin' me?"

"Joe." She gripped his wrist. "Truly, you need not worry. Look." Lina nodded toward the harness maker's, where Jamie had just exited. The boy saw them and started across. When Joe looked back to his side Lina was already gone, crossing toward the far boardwalk. He growled in frustration. Almost as if she'd heard him, she looked back, smiled, and waved. Joe clapped his brother's bony shoulder as Jamie joined him, and swore that he was going to get to the bottom of this. Soon. Lina had been putting him off for long enough. At the very least, even if she still wasn't ready to share everything, he had to know if he needed to be worried for her.

He had already lost too much.

"Joe?"

"Sorry." Joe looked back to Jamie, readjusting his thoughts for this conversation. "You ready? Any problems with the order?"

"Yep, and nope." Jamie offered a faint grin. "Pretty routine."

"Yeah, but so was the last one."

They both winced. Ben had been … displeased, when the buggy harness started shredding again two weeks after its return. No one wanted a repeat of that.

"Well, Mr. Andrews wouldn't be tellin' me that kinda thing ahead of time, would he?"

Joe snickered. "Guess not." He nodded to the livery. "Let's go. I've got something I want to show you on the way home."

"Yeah?" Jamie brightened a bit, and Joe was glad to see it. "What is it?"

"You just get your horse. You'll find out when we get there."

It wasn't as painful as he'd thought it might be, riding up to the outlook, but even so it was hard breathin' when they finally topped the final rise and looked out over the miles of hills and trees and sun-washed valley below. Jamie gaped and slid off Cinnamon, climbing right onto the very rock where Joe and Hoss had spent so many years gazing out over their own little bit of heaven. Where he had sat with Alice and told her about his brother Hoss.

It hurt, but it was time. He wasn't going to lose this place, too.

"Me and Hoss used to come here." He climbed up beside Jamie and dropped down, stretching. "We, uh … we called it our happy place. I brought Alice here too sometimes. Nobody else, though." His brother sat beside him, eyes still fixed on the patchwork spread below. "I mean, I guess Pa and Adam have probably been here, but I never came here with them. Only Hoss and Alice. And now you."

The wind gusted, buffeting him as surely as a playful knock from his big brother, and Joe's own heart leaped. Yes. This was right. He snuck a glance at Jamie, trying to gauge the boy's thoughts, and caught his little brother wiping away a tear. Jamie saw him looking and dropped his hand.

"Sorry."

"Don't." Joe caught the boy's arm. "Don't do that. You got a right, same as anybody." Another tear rolled, and Joe sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

Jamie shook his head. "Not your fault you guys were gone."

"I don't mean just that."

His little brother sucked in a deep, shaky breath. "I know … it's not … I miss them, Joe."

Them. Not just Hoss, but Alice too.

Of course Alice. His wife had been family to more than just him.

"Yeah. Me too."

He hooked an arm around the fuzzy red head, and pulled the boy close, and they cried together for a good while—just the two of them, on the overlook with Hoss and Alice. It … helped. Joe felt lighter when they had finished, instead of emptier. Jamie sighed, still burrowed up against him.

"Don't know why this stuff's gotta happen."

"Don't think anybody does." Joe rubbed at the thin arm. "You thinkin' about Sonny?"

"Yeah. Well, Sonny and Ted."

Ted? It was an opening, and he took it. "What about Ted?"

"Well … I mean, I know he was scared, Joe. He's got no family and thought he was alone. I get that. I been there before." Jamie shivered, and reached up to flip his collar. Joe doubted the kid was really cold, but let it pass. "But I feel like … I told him we'd be there for him, that it wasn't right not to tell Sheriff Coffee but we'd all be in it together. And it ain't just that he didn't believe me. When we said we were gonna tell he'd get so mad, and then when we said we wasn't going to he'd get all friendly again, and I just …" His brother shrugged. "I don't know. I feel … kinda used, I guess?" Jamie tensed, and looked up quickly. "He's still my friend, though, I ain't—"

"Hold on." Joe hadn't heard this part of the story. As far as he knew, nobody had. Jamie hadn't been too forthcoming about what he and his friends had gone through after Sonny's death, even when sketching out the facts for Ben and later the judge. "I ain't gonna say anything about that. But it sounds like you need to get some things off your chest, so you just go ahead and say them. We'll work through it together, okay?"

Jamie hesitated, then settled gingerly back in. "Yeah. Yeah, I … thanks Joe."

"Any time, little brother." Joe let out a long breath. It didn't hurt anymore. "Any time."