belauger@msn.com
Summary: This is a look at the interactions between brothers, some ordinary and others life and death. This is the second story following my Adam/Hoss/Joe “Destiny” series.
Rated: G
Disclaimer: I own no part of Bonanza or its characters. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

Brothers and Friends

There was only one week of school left until summer vacation, and to eighteen-year-old Eric Cartwright, it was the week that would never end. At the end of this week, he would be done with school forever and would become a full-time rancher, working side by side with his father, Hoss, and his cousin, Logan. It felt like he had been waiting for this his entire life. His earliest dreams were to work on the ranch and be a cowboy. He’d certainly done his fair share of ranch work in his lifetime, but he never could quite see why going to school was so important. However, every time he raised the subject, it seemed like every member of his family jumped down his throat. At least the adult ones.

Even his mother, Erin, who was usually so kind and understanding got a hard look on her face and told him in no uncertain terms that he would finish school. His father backed her up, and so did Grandpa Ben. Uncle Adam and Aunt Mary Lynn had each told him how much better his life would be if he completed his education. Aunt Amy had told him quietly that he’d never be sorry he finished school, and even Uncle Joe told him it was the right thing to do. Sheesh. Only Logan really understood how he felt, but he had finished school himself. Well, at least Eric was done now, and he was one happy cowboy.

In fact, all the Cartwright cousins were happy that school was ending. They were looking forward to a summer of riding, fishing and swimming. In addition to their chores, of course. But only Eric and Elizabeth were graduating. Eric knew a party was being planned, and this would be one party he really enjoyed. He would be celebrating his emancipation. At least that was how he looked at it. His family was happy for him.

Eric frowned, though, as he thought about his thirteen-year-old brother, Gunner. He was the one person that didn’t seem very happy, now that he thought about it. Gunner had been mopey for the past couple of weeks and hadn’t spoken much. He’d done his homework and his chores, and then usually went off to spend time by himself. As far as Eric knew, his parents hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Gunner was a good student and a nice all around person. Although not as outgoing as Logan or Uncle Joe’s boys, Gunner had a lot of friends and generally seemed happy. It was kinda hard being thirteen, though. It hadn’t been the greatest time in Eric’s life, he recalled. Maybe he would make a point of having a private conversation with Gunner.

That opportunity came Monday evening after dinner and homework. Since it was the last week of school, homework was a short reading assignment for a play they would act out at school. Always doing homework together at the dining room table, most of the children were finished in twenty minutes or less, except for Hunter and James. Much to their mothers’ distress, those two just didn’t seem cut out to be bookworms. Nevertheless, Gunner finished quickly and headed outside since there was still daylight left. Eric followed and saw that he was headed up a grassy knoll beyond the barn where a stand of mature trees grew. Gunner headed straight for one in the middle and climbed up about halfway. The tree had thick branches and Gunner leaned back against the trunk, stretching his legs along the limb.

Eric reached the trees and stood underneath Gunner, looking up. “Hey Gunner, what are you doing up there?”

“Go away, Eric,” he certainly didn’t sound like a happy kid.

“What’s wrong? Wanna talk about it?”

Gunner just made a face and snapped off a twig, throwing it to the ground.

Looking around him, Eric realized that the tree next to Gunner’s offered a strong branch that would place him facing his brother. He scaled that tree quickly and in minutes he was facing his youngest brother, who was scowling.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I just want to help if I can. You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“No.”

“Good. I knew that, actually. Maybe if you told me what’s bothering you, I could help you somehow.”

“Probably not.”

“Well, try. Sometimes talking just helps. That’s what Ma says.”

Gunner sighed and looked directly at his brother. “I can’t play on the baseball team this summer,” he stated flatly.

Of all the things Eric had been imagining, this wasn’t it. He blinked a couple of times. “Why not?”

Gunner looked like he wanted to cry, but he was really fighting it. “Because I’m too big and I can’t run the bases fast enough,” he plunked his chin into the palm of his hand.

So that was it. Eric felt anger rise in defense of his brother. How could Gunner’s friends do that to him? They’d known him all his life. It was the “Hoss curse” that the family sometimes joked about. The same way that Nolan and Logan looked just like Adam, and Joey looked just like Uncle Joe, Gunner was the spitting image of his father, in every way. He not only strongly resembled Hoss, he had his gentle personality and in this case, the offending characteristic was his size. Gunner was big. He was as tall as Eric right now, and he would definitely match, if not exceed, his father’s height some day. He was also strong and powerful.

“Well, why can’t you be catcher or umpire or an outfielder for Pete’s sake?” Eric was exasperated.

“I don’t know. That’s just what Toby told me a week ago.” More twigs snapped.

That told Eric more of the story. Toby Hastings was the son of Tobias Hastings, the man whom Ben Cartwright and his sons had not supported in last year’s mayoral election. Perhaps there was a bit of payback going on. Then Eric had an idea.

“Gunner, tomorrow at lunchtime, you, me and Ben are going to play us a game of baseball, just the three of us, okay?”

Gunner stopped ripping a leaf to shreds and looked at his brother. “OK…why?”

“Because you’re a good baseball player, and if the guys don’t want you on the team, we’ll just play our own game.”

Gunner shrugged, but he was intrigued. Eric was up to something. He began climbing down, and Eric followed suit. They headed back toward the house. Eric would have bumped against him good naturedly, but since his brother was as big as he was, he could plow him down if he had a mind to. So Eric was satisfied just to walk home side by side with him.

The following day at school, Eric, Ben and Gunner played a game of baseball after they finished their lunch. Ben had been filled in on the details and he was game for Eric’s plan. Eric had brought a baseball bat, catcher’s mitt and ball to school with him. They moved away from where the other children were eating and playing. Eric recruited their cousin Eli to be catcher. He was the pitcher, Ben was the batter, and Gunner played the entire outfield.

Eric threw a mean ball, Ben was a dependable batter, and Gunner grabbed the ball no matter where it was in the air. After that, it was whipped back to Eli, who served as all basemen in addition to catcher. The four of them had a lively game going within just minutes, and they attracted a crowd of onlookers. Some cheered Ben, who needed the moral support since he never got very far once he hit the ball. But most of the kids were cheering for Gunner, impressed by his powerful throwing arm.

“Hey Gunner,” yelled one boy. “You should play baseball this summer. You signed up?”

“Nope,” Gunner was keeping his eye on the ball.

“Why not?”

“I’m too big.” Gunner knew that Toby had stayed away from the crowd, so he comfortable revealing this excuse.

“Says who?”

“Some people think I can’t run fast enough.”

“Well, so what? You can throw faster than Goliath!” The other boys raised their voices in agreement.

Eric and Ben said nothing as this played out. They simply pitched and batted the ball. Just before the teacher called everyone back into class, several of the boys fetched Toby Hastings, the team captain, over and beseeched him to put Gunner on the team. Toby pretended to consider, but then shook his head.

“Are you crazy? He throws faster than lightening! I want him on my team!” They were all talking at once. But Toby was firm. He turned and headed for the school house.

“Well, why can’t we form our own team? Gunner shouldn’t be left out. He’s big, but he makes up for it in strength,” one of the boys reasoned, and he was echoed by a chorus of assent from the other boys, who simply didn’t see a problem.

Toby, hearing his confederates start to bail, began to slow down. He turned around and looked back. Most of the team was gathered around Gunner, and they waved him back to include their friend. He slowly retraced his steps in disgust. His father had really exhorted him to exclude any Cartwrights. Aw heck, he didn’t know why that was his problem. Why couldn’t his father keep old Ben Cartwright out of a poker game if it was so important to him? When he reached the boys, Toby nodded when they encouraged him to add Gunner to the team. Both he and Gunner received slaps of congratulations on the back. And then the bell rang. Time to go back to school.

As everyone trudged back into class, Eric moved next to Toby. “Thanks, Toby. That was a real nice thing you did.”

“Aw, it was nuthin’,” Toby smiled. “He’s a real good player anyway”

***

Joe Cartwright’s boys were celebrating their freedom from school by swimming in Lake Tahoe. The water was cold, but they didn’t care. There was a special swimming rock their father and uncles had used when they were boys, and it was perfect for splashing yourself right into that clear, blue water. It was also good for laying out on afterward to warm up or dry off before heading for home.

Young Joe, now 14, and his brothers Jon, 13, and James, 11 had finished their chores quickly after lunch, saddled their horses and headed directly to the swimming rock. Some of their cousins would probably join them later, but for now they had the whole lake to themselves.

They skinned out of their clothes and threw towels off to the side. Then Jon leapt off the rock ledge, his arms wrapped around his knees. It was a dive bombing competition. When he hit the water, he knew he had created a masterful splash. When he surfaced he heard Joe laughing at him and saw him give a thumbs-up sign.

“Good one, Jon!” He sounded exuberant. He turned to his brother and bragged, “Watch this one, James.”

As soon as Jon had moved out of his path, Joe plunged in himself, shouting “Yee ha!” as he went. He was pretty sure he had beat Jon since he was a little bigger, but James had to be the judge since he had watched both jumps.

When Joe surfaced, he shook his head, whipping his wet hair out of his eyes. He squinted up at his youngest brother. “Well? Was it bigger?”

James had to think about that. Frankly, they had seemed about the same to him. Both his brothers had displaced a lot of water when they hit the surface.

“I was pretty good,” called Jon from the shore. “I’m not sure you beat me.”

James was still thinking it over. Finally he said, “It was a tie. They were the same.”

His brothers booed and hooted, and then boasted they were each the winner. James grinned. It happened this way every time. It just so happened that Joe and Jon were about the same size. All of Little Joe and Amy’s children were the shortest of the cousins. They took after their parents; they weren’t the size of Uncle Hoss, and they never would be. But they were wiry and quick, so that compensated, they felt.

Leaving his brothers to boast it out, James took his plunge. The chill of the water almost took his breath away. But he was prepared for that. For a while he swam under water before he broke the surface. He wanted to get used to the temperature. He was a strong swimmer, and he always had been. He could remember his father holding him under his belly while he propelled his arms and kicked his feet in the water. He had already known how to float on his back. That was the first thing his father taught him, because it was easy and he could see his papa as he coached him. Once he overheard his father telling his mother that he was just a natural fish in the water.

For a while he turned and floated on his back, looking out at the expanse of Lake Tahoe. It was smooth and peaceful on this clear day. James thought it might be his favorite part of the whole Ponderosa. He turned over and swam back toward shore. His brothers were still jumping off the swimming rock, only now in unison. They sure were competitive, only being a year apart in age. He loved being in their company, but he was enough younger that he never felt the need to compete with them. He usually palled around with his cousin Hunter, who was also eleven.

Coming back close to the shore, James stood and walked back up to the swimming rock. Joe and Jon were back in the water, so James moved farther down along the rock’s ledge. He decided to try a dive this time. He’d been diving for at least three years, and he loved it. His father had taught him this water skill along with all the others. He wanted all his children to know how to swim; it was an important life skill. He had listened carefully when his father explained that when he dove, he needed to launch himself far enough out so that he landed in deep enough water. James had never forgotten that. Of course, Joe and Jon could push farther out that he could, but he would catch up as he grew. In the meantime, he managed and his father said he did a good job.

Staying away from his brothers, who were throwing wet sand at each other from the lake bottom, James selected his launching spot. He bent his knees, put his arms over his head and pushed off. As he pushed off, one foot slipped against the rock and he didn’t get as strong a push as he wanted. In the air, he kept his wits about him and tried to scan beneath himself to see where he was going to land. As his body arced and moved downward, he saw some stones and rocks where he was headed. He tried to kick his legs and twist his body, but there wasn’t enough time. His voice froze in his throat, and he was left only with hope for the best possible landing.

Joe and Jon had progressed from throwing sand to wrestling each other in the waves that lapped the shore. They were trying to pin each other, but they were each laughing too hard to do it. They kept slipping and at times they would just lie on the shore, letting the water wash over them, catching their breath before starting all over again. It felt good to horse around after a long year of school. Jon finally pulled himself up into a sitting position. His brother lay on his back next to him, his long legs fully in the water. Jon opened his mouth to call to James to toss down the stick they usually brought to throw to each other in the water. James wasn’t on the swimming rock, however. Jon levered himself up higher to see if he was still black floating further out on the lake. Not seeing him, Jon stood up quickly and walked around to the area where everyone climbed up the rock. Nothing. He felt the first wash of alarm.

“Joe, I don’t see James,” he first roused his brother into action, and then cupping his hands around his mouth he shouted, “James! Where are you?”

Joe was on his feet in one fluid motion. He went through Jon’s earlier checks, and then ran up to the top of the swimming rock while Jon stayed in the water, scouting.

James’ clothes were still on the rock, and his horse was still with the others. Joe moved to the edge of the rock. He didn’t see James from the usual jumping spot. He moved to one side and didn’t see anything there. He moved in the opposite direction, and caught his breath when he saw the unthinkable. James was floating face down just under the surface. He wasn’t moving, and the water was stained red near his head.

“Jon!” Joe bellowed and pointed at the same time as he leapt.

Jon sprinted the few yards to where Joe landed and felt nauseated as he took in the same sight his brother had just seen. Together they carefully lifted their youngest brother. There were some rocks in this area—why hadn’t James pushed out further? Joe cradled his brother in his arms.

“Jon, is he breathing?” Joe was eyeing a gash in his forehead that continued into his scalp. It was bleeding heavily.

Jon bent his head close to James’ face. “I don’t think he’s breathing, Joe, and I’m not sure if I feel a pulse or not,” Jon’s voice was trembling.

Joe stood and moved away from the water. Telling Jon to get the towels, he lay James face down on the wet sand, turning his head so that the wound wasn’t filled with wet sand. Joe straddled James and began pushing on his back and then pulling up on his shoulders. This was a basic life saving technique, and it was about the only one Joe could think of. However, by the time Jon returned with the towels, which were used to stanch the flow of blood, small amounts of water were trickling out of James’ mouth. Joe pumped a few more times until nothing further came up. He felt at the base of his brother’s neck and thought he detected a thready pulse. Joe turned him carefully, with Jon naturally holding his hands out to cup his head. Then Joe bent down, opened James’ mouth and breathed into it. He didn’t know if that was good or bad, but he did it by gut instinct. After several repetitions, he put his cheek to his brother’s mouth and heard a slight gurgle. Water.

“Turn him on his side, Jon,” and as they were in the process of doing this, James gagged and vomited, mostly water. His older brothers held him carefully for several moments to let anything that wanted to come up drain out of his mouth. James moaned but did not wake up. But he was breathing! It felt like a victory to Joe. Bolstered by this positive turn, he left Jon holding their brother while he ran up to the swimming rock. He grabbed his pants and Jon’s along with their shirts. On his way back down, he untethered two of the horses. Leading them to his brothers, he stopped to pull his pants on, then he held James while Jon pulled his on. They weren’t going to take time to dress James, but together they wrapped him in the bloody towels. Joe mounted his horse and had Jon hand James up to him. Joe sat him across the saddle with his head resting on his shoulder, the shirts pressed to the wound.

“Jon, ride as fast as you’ve ever ridden. Get the doctor and bring him as fast as you can. I’m taking James home. If you run across anyone, tell them where I am and send them back with a wagon.”

Jon nodded, kicked his heels against his horse’s sides, and took off at a gallop. Joe took off too, but at a much slower pace. With James in his precarious condition, the horse could be allowed to do no more than walk, and Joe was on pins and needles about even that much movement. He clutched his brother against him as he guided the horse slowly, longing to cut him loose into a full gallop.

After what seemed an eternity of time, Joe saw riders coming toward him in the distance. His Uncle Hoss reached him first, followed closely by his father and then, thank goodness, Hop Sing and Aunt Erin driving a wagon. Hoss came over quickly and reached up for his nephew. Joe handed him down gently and then sagged in his saddle. His father, looking pale, hurried over to Hoss and examined his son. He couldn’t hold back his tears. He looked up at Joe, his eyes questioning.

“He was diving. Somehow he didn’t push out far enough. We didn’t see it happen. He wasn’t breathing. I…we…some water came up and he started to breathe again…” he stopped because his tears were falling freely now and he covered his face with his hands.

Hoss nodded and quickly moved to lay James in the wagon. Thank goodness someone had thought to put a mattress in it. Little Joe immediately climbed in beside his son, and was joined by Erin and Hop Sing who began ministering to him. Hoss climbed into the wagon, having tied his horse behind it. He tossed reins to Joe. Cochise, his father’s horse.

Hoss took off as if to a fire. Joe put out an arm and shouted pointlessly, “Don’t jostle him!” Then he lit into his horse and followed, pulling Cochise along behind.

Later, James was upstairs in bed and the doctor was with him. Little Joe and Amy were there too, as well as Erin and Hop Sing. Joe was pacing back and forth downstairs. Jon was sitting in a chair just staring. Someone had thought to bring them both shirts which they had partially buttoned. Adam had returned from the mines as soon as he got word. The whole family was there except for Nolan, who was away at school.

A door opened upstairs and quiet voices were heard approaching the stairs. As the downstairs was silent, all eyes were on the group of adults who descended with the doctor. Grandpa Ben came forward immediately.

“Dr. Henderson, please tell us how James is.” Dr. Henderson had replaced Dr. Paul Martin in the last two years following the latter’s retirement.

“Well, the young man received a fair number of stitches and is going to have a most interesting scar. He is suffering from a concussion, certainly, and he is still unconscious. We also don’t know what, if any, brain damage he may have suffered while he was submerged. Who treated him at the site?”

Joe looked up miserably and lifted his hand slightly. When questioned, he haltingly explained what he and Jon had done for their brother.

Dr. Henderson looked sympathetic, and moved to lay a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Well, then, I would say you most likely saved that boy’s life.

Joe said nothing, feeling his eyes fill with tears. Please, let it be enough.

“Doctor, when will we know if he did suffer any…brain damage?” Little Joe hated to say the words.

“You’ll know pretty quickly after he wakes up, but I want to examine him as soon as I can after that happens. Send someone for me right away.”

Dinner was the most silent meal any Cartwright could remember. The only sounds were those made by flatware and dinnerware. James’ parents were at his bedside. Joe couldn’t eat. It all felt like a death vigil and that sickened him. Glancing at his brother, he knew Jon felt the same way.

Later Grandpa Ben tried to comfort him, but he wasn’t to be comforted. He felt responsible and haunted. He didn’t speak at all. Hoss and Erin praised his efforts, and Adam and Mary Lynn dispensed sage wisdom, but Joe was mute. Finally, when keeping watch became unbearable, he went upstairs to the room he shared with Jon and James. He stopped at his parents’ room, where James had been placed. Other than the bandage on his forehead, and the high paleness of his skin, he looked like he was sleeping. Joe didn’t make eye contact with his mother and father. He didn’t think they would want to look at their child’s killer.

He and Jon lay awake in the dark all night, reliving the events of the previous afternoon over and over. For Joe, everything kept repeating itself in slow motion. What if he had done something to James that would paralyze him or actually cause brain damage? He damned himself worse that the devil himself could have done in the bowels of hell.

A persistent knock on his door woke him up. He had no concept of day or time. He may have slept for five minutes or five days. Glancing across the room, he saw that Jon was gone and daylight showed through the window. Joe groaned and put his head under the pillow. The knock came again and this time the door opened. He peeked out from under the pillow to find his mother standing in his room. She was smiling at him although she looked as tired as he felt.

“Someone would like to see you,” she said softly.

He sat up like a shot. He knew what that meant. He was out of bed and down the hall in his nightshirt, directly to his parents’ room. James was sitting up in bed with plenty of pillows behind him. Their father was sitting in a chair close by and he smiled at Joe, who stood looking from his father to James. Finally, James smiled at him, shyly.

“Hi, Joey,” he said, using the nickname they had called him for years. “I remember what happened. I could see it coming, but I couldn’t stop it.”

Joe moved to sit in the chair closest to James. “What happened?”

“I moved down the swimming rock so I wouldn’t land on you or Jon. But when I pushed off, one of my feet slipped, so I didn’t get a good launch. I tried to twist in the air, but it didn’t help. I could see the rocks. I knew what might happen. I just hoped I missed them. That’s all I really remember until now. You must have saved me.”

“I tried, buddy, but I was really scared. You weren’t breathing,” Joe reached out and took his brother’s hand.

James’ eyes went wide. “I wasn’t breathing?” If it wasn’t so serious it would have been funny. In his own eyes, James had reached a new status.

“Your brother saved your life, James. He started your breathing again and he and Jon got help for you,” Little Joe confirmed.

“How do you feel right now?” Joe was anxious about the brain damage question, although James seemed very coherent.

“Well, my head hurts, and I’m hungry.”

“I should think your head hurts,” his father chuckled, rubbing his son’s leg through the bed covers. But he stopped himself suddenly to look over at his oldest son. Joe had dropped his face into his hands and he was crying. Loud, uncontrollable sobs, his shoulders shaking. His father moved over close to him and put his arms tightly around him. Joe turned into his embrace, and they held each other for several minutes.

Jon appeared in the room to witness this, and although James just looked at him quizzically, Jon moved over to rub his hand up and down Joe’s back. He understood all too well.

Dr. Henderson arrived later in the day, and after a thorough examination diagnosed James with a concussion, a sound brain, and hunger. Bed rest for a week, and food.

Joe and Jon ate all their meals upstairs with James during the following week. One night as food was being carried up to them, Adam gave his brother the ultimate compliment.

Resting his arm around Little Joe’s shoulders, he commented, “It must be nice to have two sons who show you at such a young age what good fathers they’re going to be some day.”

Little Joe smiled. It did feel good. Really good.

***

“I hate Ross.” This disgruntled remark came from Hunter Cartwright as he heaved a rock from the shore line of Lake Tahoe.

His brother, sixteen-year-old Eli, engaged in the same task, stopped and stared at his eleven-year-old brother. “Where did that come from?” Rarely did he hear grousing from his siblings or cousins about each other.

Other than a grumpy sound, Hunter didn’t respond. He picked up another rock and threw it into a growing pile. Most of the Cartwright cousins were standing knee-deep in the lake near the swimming rock where James had had a recent diving accident. After that frightening, life and death experience, the parents had all decided that it would be time well spent for the cousins to spend a day combing the area for potentially injurious rocks and stones and remove them from the swimming and diving area. With twelve of them working on the project, the work was going quickly. Elizabeth and Eric, the oldest cousins present, were being vigilant about making sure that the job was thoroughly done. It didn’t take much policing, however. No one wanted to relive that awful day when they all waited to see if James would recover or not. And in three hours they had built an impressive pile of rocks in an area of sea grass just beyond the swimming rock. Even Gunner had voluntarily skipped a baseball game to participate in the family project.

Eli glanced over to where Ross was running after stray rocks and placing them on the pile. He did not appear to have heard his brother’s complaint. He was only six, going on seven, and he couldn’t throw anything very far. It made more sense for him to run after the strays and place them properly on the pile. And Elizabeth had put the fear of God into everyone about making sure he was out of the way before they tried their shot put skills with a rock.

When the job was pronounced properly completed, most of the cousins piled into the wagon for the ride back to the ranch. A few had ridden their horses to the lake, including Eli, Eric, Ben, Joe and Hunter. Eli deliberately spent time checking Hunter’s cinch and stirrups so that the others could get ahead of them. He wanted some time to talk to his brother. As they began a slow amble along the path home, Eli began to probe.

“So how come Ross is getting under your skin? He’s just a little guy.”

Hunter scowled. “That’s right. So what makes him so special?”

“Special?” Eli’s eyebrows rose like his father’s did sometimes. He had been expecting a complaint about their little brother’s behavior, not his status.

Hunter rolled his eyes. “He goes everywhere with Logan. They fish together, they do errands together, they do chores together. The only thing Ross has to do by himself now is go to school since he’s old enough.”

Eli was cautious. Ross and Logan did have a special relationship, and it really wasn’t surprising that someone might resent it. It was actually more surprising that someone hadn’t before now. And Hunter was right in the middle of the family; vulnerable to feeling left out.

“Well, you know why that is, Hunter. You know how Joe and I were kidnapped when we were younger. Logan helped rescue us. He was brave, but he got in trouble for disobeying Grandpa and Uncle Joe. To teach him responsibility and respect for human life, Mom made him take care of Ross for a month, and Ross was only a baby then. Logan didn’t want to do it at all, but you know what happened, right?”

“They really liked each other,” he mumbled, with his chin dropped.

“Exactly, and they’ve been good buddies ever since. But Logan still has work to do. Ross came to help us today, but Logan didn’t because he had to work.”

“They still spend every minute they can together. Heck, Ross even sleeps in Nolan’s bed now so he can be right next to Logan!”

Eli felt a pang of guilt. He usually hung around with his cousin Ben, but he should probably be spending more time with his own brother. He would plan to do some special things with him. In most cases, though, the cousins made room for anyone who wanted to join their escapades. Groups fell together naturally by age, but Eli had never seen anyone deliberately excluded. He would also put a bug in his dad’s ear. Hunter needed some special father-son time.

They rode on in silence for a while. Eli got an idea. Hunter would probably see through it, but hopefully it would make him feel good about himself. Then he changed the subject and they talked about the baseball game planned for Sunday after the church picnic. Just as they reached home, Eli asked Hunter if he wanted to ride to Virginia City the next day to get ice cream. Hunter agreed immediately; he was a magnet for anything with chocolate in it.

Eli got busy later that day. He spoke privately to Logan and to his father. Both agreed with him, and a plan was hatched.

The following afternoon Eli and Hunter rode into town after lunch. Their first stop was the ice cream parlour with its red and white striped awning. They both sat on tall stools and ordered double scoops of chocolate ice cream. There were other flavors, but they both agreed that chocolate was the best. Eli always tried to eat his slowly to savor it, but even if he started out slowly, he generally wound up gobbling it toward the end. Hunter, on the other hand, chowed it down from the first second it was set before him. There was a large mirror that ran across the back of the parlour, so they could see themselves as they ate. Eli noted how much he and Hunter looked alike. There was no question that they were related. He’d never really noticed it before, since he was a twin himself and because Nolan and Logan were identical twins. He smiled at his brother in the mirror. They both had straight brown hair, brown eyes, and their father’s mouth. And they were skinny. Susannah, Eli’s twin, had blue eyes and long wavy brown hair, but of course, she was a girl.

Eli dipped a napkin into a glass of water and handed it to his brother whose face was pretty chocolaty. Hunter took it and scrubbed his face and hands. No point in ruining a good leather saddle with sticky ice cream, Eli thought. They’d definitely hear about it if that happened.

They stopped by the general store and browsed for a while. Eli bought a neckerchief and Hunter bought…chocolate drops. After that they got their horses and headed companionably back home. They talked about swimming and roping calves, and the new puppies in the barn. They were easy together. It was just the afternoon Eli had pictured.

Two days later at breakfast, out of the blue Adam said, “Hunter, how about coming with me to the mines today? I don’t have to stay all day and we can fish when we’re done.”

Hunter didn’t say anything, but the smile that nearly split his face was enough of an answer. And most of his family worried about his head staying on his neck, he was nodding it so hard. Later, his mother and aunts would chuckle that he virtually glowed after that. And as she said goodbye to her husband and son that morning, Mary Lynn would have given anything for a picture of her husband, dressed in black, with his arm around his shorter son, also dressed in black, walking to the barn.

Adam knew his son didn’t really need to see the mines, although oddly he seemed to hang on his father’s every word. Adam introduced him to his foremen and some of the miners. He gave Hunter a hardhat and they went into the mine some distance. Hunter even had an opportunity to try his luck with a pick and hammer. They went to three of the mines before Adam declared it was fishin’ time.

They were heading for a special spot on Lake Tahoe that was rich with fish. Adam realized that this particular son and he didn’t talk together that often. He wondered briefly how they would pass the time. He needn’t have worried. Hunter chattered like a magpie. He talked about things he had learned in school, things he liked to do, having ice cream with Eli, the baseball game coming up on Sunday, and how his father had known how big to build the ranch house once all the cousins started being born. Periodically, Adam glanced over at him to make sure he was stopping to breathe in between sentences. With a pang of regret, he realized how much was bottled up in this young boy, just waiting to come out.

When they reached the fishing spot, they were both amazed that someone had left a picnic basket there was filled with delicious things to eat. And were they ever hungry! They ate first, fished second, and then ate again. Adam liked to recline when he fished, but Hunter sat up eagerly, waiting on tenterhooks for the first bite. When Adam realized the boy wanted desperately to catch the first fish, he steadfastly ignored the pull he felt on his line. Hunter, who was still chattering, didn’t notice either. Adam reached over for him and pulled him close, one arm around him. His heart felt constricted that although his family wanted for nothing, this son felt alone in their big family. He would turn that around. God bless Eli for noticing and telling him about it.

Amazingly, Hunter caught the first three fish before his father even caught one. He was excited and proud. Adam was amazed at his son’s proficiency in catching trout and said he thought he must be getting rusty. They needed to go fishing more often. Hunter agreed. That would help his father a lot. By the time the sun was in the western sky, they had at least two dozen fish between them. Hop Sing had a good fish dinner for tomorrow now.

On the way home, Hunter peppered his dad with questions about his boyhood. Adam guessed his son resembled a young Adam who had constantly been asking his own father “why” this and “why” that. Adam felt he’d been given a second chance. He had a bright boy not to be overlooked, and Adam would make sure that didn’t happen again.

The chattering magpie kept going throughout dinner, to the amusement of his family, but he ran out of energy after dinner. His cousins wanted to stage races with their horses, and Hunter knew he couldn’t lift a saddle again that day. His mother found him asleep on his bed, fully dressed, at 8:30 that evening. She kissed his cheek, pulled his boots off, and covered him with a quilt.

The day before the church baseball game, Hop Sing required Ross’ help making cookies to take to the church picnic. Ross was willing because he knew he’d get first pickings at what came out of the oven. They started baking after lunch, which was when Logan found Hunter at the corral watching Eric work with a young colt. He came up behind his brother and squeezed his shoulders.

“Hey buddy, how’re you doin’?”

“I’m good. You?”

“It’s been a long week. I’m hot and tired. You want to go swimming with me?”

Hunter’s head turned so fast Logan thought he might have hurt himself. “Just me and you?”

“Yeah, you and me.”

“What about Ross?”

“Aw, he’s makin’ cookies with Hop Sing. He loves that. Let him do that today. You game?”

“Sure! I’ll tell Mom.”

“You saddle your horse. I’ll tell her and grab some towels,” and off he went, smiling to himself.

By the time Logan got to the barn, Hunter had saddled his own horse and was working on Rocket for his brother. Logan took over and within minutes they were on the path to the lake, racing of course. Logan always won horse races. He couldn’t help himself. He just loved his horse so much. But that was all right with Hunter, he was just a head behind his brother, and that was respectable.

When they reached the swimming rock they stripped as fast as they could and with the standard “yee ha” they each launched themselves out into the cool water. They alternated between floating lazily and pranking each other all afternoon. Logan would lift his brother above his head and toss him out into the deeper water. Ross loved that game, and so did Hunter, although he wasn’t quite as easy to throw. But he could ride his brother’s shoulders out as deep as Logan could walk, and it was fun when he was dumped off. Finally, they rested and sunned themselves on the swimming rock. They didn’t talk much, but it was nice just to be together. It was an afternoon that could have gone on forever. Just for good measure, when they got home as the family was sitting down to dinner, Logan carried Hunter in the house upside down by his ankles.

“Dad, I lost track of Hunter, but I brought back the closest thing I could find. If you turn your head kind of upside down they look a lot alike.” This dissolved Hunter into giggles as he was deposited on the floor close to his chair in the dining room.

“We’ll drag the lake after dinner,” Adam replied mildly. “”In the meantime we’ll keep this fellow.”

The following day after church and after the picnic, the baseball game got underway in earnest. Eli quietly made sure that Hunter played on the same team as Gunner. He was betting on the fact that whatever team Gunner played on would win. And he was right.

By Sunday night, Hunter was still floating on a cloud. He had enjoyed himself so much that week he hadn’t really realized how much his family went out of their way to spend time with him. He just felt happy.

The following day, Monday, work began all over again. That evening after dinner, Hunter headed out to the barn to groom his horse. He passed Ross playing marbles on the porch. His parents and Grandpa Ben were sitting nearby enjoying the pleasant evening air.

“Hey Ross, you want to help me groom Thunder?” He stopped near his brother as he was passing.

Ross’ head snapped up. Hunter had never asked him to do anything like that before.

“Sure!” He scooped his marbles into his pockets as fast as he could and hurried after Hunter.

Their parents exchanged glances and a smile as they watched the boys head for the barn together. Adam stretched his legs out on a bench in front of him and reached for his wife’s hand.

“Life’s a circle, Mary Lynn,” he said, watching his youngest boys turn into the barn. His eyes were warm and he was smiling.

THE END

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