Summary: Sometimes it’s hard being the eldest!
Rating:  G   Words, 1,210

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The Brandsters have included this story by this author in our project: Preserving Their Legacy. To preserve the legacy of the author, we have decided to give their work a home in the Bonanza Brand Fanfiction Library.  The author will always be the owner of this work of fanfiction, and should they wish us to remove their story, we will.

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You Ain’t My Brother!

 

Hoss stood in the open doorway of the barn and watched his older brother industriously brushing the coat of his mount, whispering softly to the animal as he did so. It was a necessary, daily ritual but each long, sweeping stroke screamed the young man’s frustration.

 

Hearing footsteps behind him, Adam paused and turned his head. On recognising the newcomer, he said nothing but resumed his task, the firm set of his back signalling that he did not want to get drawn into a conversation. Hoss approached and made himself comfortable on a barrel.

 

“He didn’t mean it,” he said eventually.

 

Adam continued to work in stony silence.

 

“You know what he’s like, Adam. He says summat before he’s things through,” Hoss pushed, hoping that he was going to get some kind of response. “Jest you watch. A couple of hours and it’ll all’ve blown over.”

 

The words came out in a rush of forced jollity and reassurance but the bitter tirade of their twelve year-old brother rang in his ears and he knew that Adam, the sole recipient of the vitriolic attack, was trying to hide the hurt foisted upon him by the youngster.

 

Ever the peacemaker, Hoss hated it when his brothers were at odds with each other, an occurrence that seemed all too frequent these days since Adam’s return from studying back east. Hoss had been delighted when his older brother came home for he had missed him so much; four years was an awful long time, but they had also been Joe’s more formative years of growing up and now the younger boy seemed to resent the homecoming, although Hoss did not doubt that his brothers loved each other.

 

Still he could not understand their constant warring, especially when he saw the pain it gave his father. Ben had been so proud of Adam’s success at college and had been beside himself with joy when his precious firstborn son had stepped from the dark recesses of the stagecoach into the dry heat of Virginia City’s Main Street, the gangly youth of four years earlier having matured into a broad-shouldered, intense young man.

 

The growing tension between him and his little brother had escalated, culminating in today’s outburst. Joe’s aged dog had been showing distinct signs of failing health for a couple of weeks but on this particular morning, the mongrel’s back legs had collapsed under him, his breathing laboured and his pain-filled eyes dull with cataracts. Ben was in town on business at the bank so it had fallen on both Adam and Hoss to try to reason with the distraught boy, patiently explaining that the kindest act of all would be to put the dog out of his misery. His life – longer than Joe’s – had been fulfilled but now he was suffering and there was to be no miracle cure.

 

Tearful, Joe had at first refused to let them anywhere near Lucky, an unfortunate name for the creature in the circumstances but one that had been appropriate when Joe had rescued him from an abusive ranch owner. As the morning had progressed, it was clear that the animal was rapidly deteriorating and Hoss had pleaded with the boy again to let them intervene. By mid-afternoon, Lucky lay helplessly on his side in the straw in a stall in the barn. Joe tried to coax him to take a little water and even resorted to wetting his fingers and holding them to the dog’s mouth but Lucky was beyond even weakly licking his young master’s hands.

 

After a hurried and whispered consultation, Adam and Hoss stepped in, gently but forcefully, and Joe eventually relented to their suggestion. They allowed him a further few minutes with Lucky and then Hoss led the devastated boy back to the house and sat on the sofa, hugging him close as the single shot rang out. It was another half an hour before Adam had entered the house, his duty done in ending the animal’s pain and giving it a proper burial, somewhere that Joe could visit when his grief had waned.

 

That was when Joe had launched his attack, four years of pent up frustration and belief that his brother had abandoned him spilling out amidst the accusations of the cold-bloodied murder of the dog. His grief knew no bounds and he screamed his hatred of Adam, flinging himself at him and pummelling his older brother with his fists until Hoss dragged him away. Kicking and struggling in one brother’s grasp, Joe spat out his contempt for what his older brother had done and delivered his final blow.

 

“You ain’t my brother!”

 

Stunned by the boy’s words, Hoss released him and Joe had run upstairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Adam had stood and watched, his eyes narrowing, his mouth set in a grim line and his facial muscles clenching as he gritted his teeth.

 

“Adam …” Hoss began, but Adam turned on his heels and strode out of the house, the front door slamming in a mocking echo of Joe’s action.

 

Hoss let a suitable period of time elapse before he followed Adam out to the barn and assumed his role of mediator once more.

 

“Heck, I reckon he’ll have forgotten what he said,” he added lamely.

 

“Maybe,” Adam said, throwing down the brush and wiping his hands on the seat of his pants before picking up a bucket and heading out to the trough to fill it with water. “I guess I’m expected to forget what he said too,” he threw out as he went.

 

Hoss waited for him to come back in and watched as the horse drank greedily as Adam tidied up where he had been working.

 

“He was upset, Adam. His dog had just died.”

 

Adam gave him a wry smile. “Very tactfully put, Hoss. His dog had just been murdered, remember? And I was the one who did the murdering.”

 

“Aw, Adam, it would’ve been Pa, had he been here,” Hoss pointed out.

 

“But he wasn’t, was he? It was big bad Adam who was the villain of the piece and I don’t think little brother is gonna let me forget that in a hurry.”

 

“You gonna tell Pa?” Hoss asked quietly.

 

“I won’t be telling any tales, if that’s what you’re worried about, but if Pa asks – an’ he will – I’ll explain then. He can’t miss Joe’s mood and he’ll be wondering what happened to Lucky.” He folded up a horse blanket and set it on a shelf.

 

“He didn’t mean to hurt you,” Hoss tried again.

 

Adam paused and straightened, sadness prevalent in his dark eyes. “I know he didn’t, Hoss, but that didn’t male it any easier to hear what he had to say. I did what I had to do and some day he’ll understand that. Right now he’s hurting and so am I, Hoss; so am I, but I’m the eldest, old enough to know better and I’m expected to take everything that little brother decides to dish out.”

 

The sound of a horse’s hooves entering the yard reached them; it could only be Ben returning from town.

 

“Well maybe this time it’s not as simple as that,” and Adam went out of the barn to greet his father.