Cold-Hearted

 
Author: Wendy

Disclaimer: I own not, you sue not.
Copyright © Wendybyrd
 

 
“You ain’t got no kind of heart in you, Adam!” his little brother’s voice was muffled by the wood of his bedroom door, but Adam could still hear the choked sobs that followed the angry shout.
The sound made him swallow thickly and pause for a moment where he was, still staring at the closed door to where he knew Joe would be on the other side. There was creaking—Joe flinging himself down on his bed to cry into his pillow. Little Joe wasn’t ashamed of his grief, but he didn’t want Adam to see it or hear it. He didn’t think Adam understood.
Despite knowing that it would do no good, Adam opened his mouth to speak and try to explain. “Joe…” he began, so hesitant that he knew Pa or Hoss would be surprised if they had heard him. It was a joke around the house that he almost never reacted emotionally, and absolutely never backed down once he had made a decision.
“Go away, Adam! I don’t wanna talk to you anymore!” Joe’s hoarse yell cut him off before he could decide what to add anyway. The thread of stubbornness was there underneath the grief now, clearly audible; Joe meant what he said. Just as he had meant it when he’d pushed Adam away and out into the hall before slamming the door shut.
He would let Hoss or Hop Sing in later, Adam realized with a tiny, unamused smile at his reasonable and correct assumption. And one of them would talk with Joe and calm him down enough to come downstairs, and though he would be quiet for a day or two, eventually Joe would be back to normal, full of fire-like energy and an apology. Despite everything Adam always said about Joe being spoiled by all of them, he’d turned out to be just as guilty as Pa and Hoss at keeping Joe’s life as carefree and innocent as possible.
The humorless realization did not make Adam feel any better however, not with the sight of the hope and then heartbreak in his little brother’s eyes still in front of him.
It had been the right thing to do, he told himself, though wondering if perhaps he was wrong, and Joe’s heart would stay broken because of what he had done. But there was nothing he could do about it now in any case. He shook his head roughly before determinedly walking away from Joe’s door and heading down the stairs to the front room.
Downstairs was quiet, something he was grateful for with the gunshot still reverberating around in his head, as loud as the sound of Joe’s door closing in his face. He could rest now for a moment, before he had to go back outside and finish his day’s work. A day to be proud of, he thought bitterly, with another tight smile.
Adam sat down heavily in his father’s favorite chair and let out one long breath before closing his eyes. It was all there in front of him again of course and he frowned deeply, feeling the tension and guilt knot his shoulders and twist his stomach.
He’d known something was up with Joe the minute he’d seen Joe practically jumping in place on the porch. Joe almost never got back from school right away, either staying late as punishment or staying in town to play with a friend. But there he’d been, home on time and calling to Adam as he’d ridden up. Adam had smiled back before he’d seen the carefully wrapped bundle in Joe’s arms.
Must’ve been Joe’s jacket, Adam realized now with a grunt. His favorite one, the new one that Pa had gotten for him on a trip to Sacramento. But there was nothing he could have done to save the little pup.
Adam shifted in his chair, thinking of the little scrap of tangled brown fur with his bony, starving body and large, wounded, scared eyes. The dog had never known a moment’s kindness in its life until Joe had found it. But by then it had been too late.
“A dog?” Adam remembered himself exclaiming as he’d resisted the urge to stroke its head. “You know you’re not allowed to have a dog, Joe,” he’d gone on immediately, knowing what Pa would have to say about a puppy. Joe had just held the pup closer and scowled stubbornly.
“But he’s hurt, Adam,” he’d defended himself and the dog fiercely before suddenly softening. “A wagon ran over him in town,” he’d explained, looking up at Adam with wide eyes. “We can fix him, can’t we, Adam?”
The faith, the absolute, innocent faith in him in his little brother’s expression had made Adam lean in closer even though he should have known better. He’d peeled back the folds of the jacket and then pulled in a sharp breath at the sight. Bony ribs sunken and crushed from the weight of a wagon wheel, the skin darkening from the blood pooling inside its small body, it was amazing that it had lived this long. Even as he’d looked, the light had been slowly fading from the small thing’s eyes. It really was a miracle that it hadn’t already died in Joe’s arms. Adam couldn’t imagine what Joe would have done, if the puppy had died while he was alone with it, how crushed he would have been that he couldn’t have saved it.
“Adam?” He heard his father’s voice asking just as Joe had asked in a tiny voice and Adam looked up just as he had then. “What’s wrong?” Pa was standing above him, with Hoss behind, both looking curious.
“Joe brought home a puppy,” Adam said as calmly as he could, clearing his throat. He saw Hoss’ eyes light up just as their father frowned.
“A puppy?” he repeated in a forbidding tone and Adam lifted one hand to keep his father from charging upstairs.
“It was hurt, run over by a wagon in town. Joe wanted to save it.”
“And?” Hoss was impatient. Adam looked back at him before shaking his head once and glancing away.
“Nothing could be done,” Adam added a moment later and turned back to them both. Nothing but one thing, one last bit of kindness, though Joe might not see it that way yet. But it had been the right thing to do, he told himself again, for Joe and for the pup.
“Joseph, he had to…?” Pa didn’t finish, just looked upstairs and shook his head sadly, but knowingly. “You’re sure it had to be done?” he asked and then went on without waiting for an answer. “He must have been devastated, having to shoot it.”
Adam stared at him, knowing that he’d thought the exact same thing when he’d realized that he couldn’t save the dog. It was a part of life, especially on a ranch. Animals got sick or injured, and there was no time, or money to spend in helping them heal. And in the dog’s case, the act had been mercy. They had all had to put an animal, even a pet, out of its misery at one time or another. All but Little Joe. His little brother had never had to kill like that before and Adam…Adam hadn’t been able to make him.
“You’re a cold-hearted bully!” Joe had cried out, swinging his small fists furiously, hitting Adam several times as Adam had carried the pup towards the barn. Adam rubbed the spots automatically as he remembered, but Joe’s punches didn’t really hurt.
“He didn’t shoot it,” Adam interrupted his father roughly and closed his fingers over his palm, still numb from the force of the explosion against his hand. He could still hear his little brother’s betrayed voice calling out to him as he’d walked away.
“You don’t care at all, do you, Adam?”

The End



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