Summary: A day out in the snow with his siblings turns out to be more than Adam bargained for, putting his role as the oldest brother to the test. On top of battling the elements, Adam finds himself struggling with thoughts about Marie…

Word Count: 4793   Rating: G

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Author’s Note: Inspired by true events. In this story, Adam is 15, Hoss is 10, and Joe is 3. Enjoy, friends.

 

Unsung Hero

 

January 17, 1845

 

Adam awoke that morning to a thick layer of snow blanketing the ground. Just under a foot, in fact. Too high to get much ranch work done and just low enough that they weren’t completely snowed in.

The perfect day to sit down by the fire and devour that new book. Maybe even pick around a little at his guitar and—

“Adam!” A tiny voice called out the second the eldest Cartwright brother set foot on the landing. “Guess what! It snowed last night! It snowed! We have to go play!”

Or… that.

Chuckling, Adam soon found himself bundled up and out in the snow with his brothers. Only content to stay in the yard for the first ten minutes, Little Joe soon wandered off into the woods, his brothers dutifully trailing behind.

A little while won’t hurt, Adam told himself as Hoss slammed another snowball into his shoulder. A short stint in the snow that would fade into a nice long afternoon of reading.

“Don’t go too far!” Marie’s words echoed in his mind and he had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes.

He reminded himself that she was a mother with two very young sons. She’s just worried.

Right. But I’ve been taking care of Hoss long before she came along.

And no, he wasn’t bitter. Getting over those initial feelings had been hard, but he’d done it a while ago.

Sometimes it was just…

Adam began packing a snowball of his own.

Her motherly instincts, every once in a blue moon, made him wonder what it would be like if Inger was still around.

And that never failed to stir up unwanted emotions.

“They’ll be fine.” Pa’s reply had brought Adam’s irritation from a boil down to a simmer. “Adam knows the ranch like the back of his hand.”

Thanks, Pa.

Before he could launch his snowball at a very deserving Hoss, Joe’s cry rang through the air.

“Adam!”

He let it fly, then surveyed the snowy bank the three of them had traversed into, finding Joe sitting with a frown on his face.

“What is it?”

The three-year-old just held up his hand and it took everything in Adam not to groan.

I swear, if that kid’s glove comes off one more time…

As the morning had progressed, Adam counted a total of five times Joe’s glove had slipped off his right hand. How his fingers weren’t chilled to the bone, Adam didn’t know, as each time he fixed it, Joe’s glove got a little more snow inside.

“All right,” Adam said, swallowing a sigh, “I’ll be right there.”

No sooner had he fixed the kid’s glove did Joe rip the hat off his head.

“Come on, Joe, how many times have I told you?” Retrieving the snow-coated hat, Adam gave his baby brother a look. “You need this hat or you’ll freeze.”

“But I hate it! Keeps slippin’ down in front of my eyes.”

“You don’t have to like it, you just have to wear it.”

Though Joe pouted, Adam tugged the hat onto his head, having been immune to his cute little mopey face for some time now.

Another snowball hit Adam in the chest and he glanced back at Hoss with a sly grin, one that scared his brother enough to send him dashing for the thickest tree.

With Hoss dashing off further into the woods, it wasn’t long until Joe followed, which meant Adam had to follow, tightly packed snowball in hand.

“Let’s try not to get too far from the ranch,” he told his brothers after sneaking up to Hoss’ tree and surprising him with one last snowball. “I’m not carrying either of you back, I can tell you that right now.”

“Aw, shucks, Adam,” Hoss replied. “What if Joe’s legs get tired?”

“Then you can carry him.” Adam grinned at his brother’s puckered expression. “Don’t worry, Hoss. We won’t wander far enough for that.”

The snow man came next, one Adam ended up finishing off what Joe and Hoss rolled balls too big for them to lift.

A while later, he stepped back to admire their handiwork. “Well, what should we name him, boys?”

“Joe!” Adam didn’t have to look down to know who’d said that.

“Nah, he sorta looks like a she,” Hoss suggested. “So maybe Mary.”

“No!” Joe put in once more. “It looks like a Joe!” A pause. “Actually, it looks like a granny.”

Adam couldn’t bite back his chuckle in time, earning a little glare from Joe. “Granny it is, then.”

“No, Adam, it’s name’s not Granny, it just looks like one!”

Halfway through the naming process, Hoss got bored and wandered away, leaving Adam to put a few last details on the face. Joe simply stood and watched.

“Hey, Adam!” Hoss came running back a few minutes later. “I jus’ found this ol’ hill! Can we slide down it?”

Joe clapped his hands. “Can we? Can we?”

“Sorry, boys, but we didn’t bring a sled.”

Hoss waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sure we can find somethin’.“

Feeling himself caving, Adam eventually shrugged. “Well, you can show me it, at least, then maybe we’ll figure something out.”

He had to admit it: the hill was steep, it was clear, and it was snowy. Even Adam couldn’t ignore his own budding desire to slide down it on something. Exactly what remained the question.

“How ’bout a tree?” Hoss pointed to a fallen log, but Adam shook his head.

“Too rotted, and it won’t go down the way a sled does.”

“What about like this?” Taking a running start, Joe made an attempt to slide down on his rear end.

He didn’t get far.

“Nice try, Joe. Better luck next time.” Sucking down another chuckle at his brother’s antics, Adam scoured the landscape. All he needed was just one idea…

Just one, he begged his abnormally blank mind. I thought you were supposed to be smart.

“Sorry, guys. I’ve got nothing.”

Hoss’ overcast expression—Joe had already moved onto the next thing, which consisted of digging holes in the snow—lasted only half a minute when his face brightened again.

“Hey! Can we roll down it?”

As opposed to gliding down a hill of fresh, crisp snow, rolling one’s body God knows how many times down said hill was probably the least appealing thing Adam had heard all day.

“Uh…”

“Please?“

“All right.” Adam knelt down, fixing Joe’s glove yet again. “If you two want to roll down there and rattle your brains, then be my guest.”

“What?” Joe slapped the snow. “What about you?”

“I’ll watch.”

“That’s boring.“

“Well,” Adam said, lowering his voice a tad and grinning, “someone has to watch so you’ll have proof when you beat Hoss.”

“Hey! I heard that! He ain’t beatin’ me, no way.” With that, Hoss began his tumble down the hill. It looked absolutely miserable, just as Adam knew it would, but the boy was laughing, so he didn’t see the harm.

Joe followed suit, not getting quite enough momentum to go as fast as his brother.

Only when Adam began his own slow descent, lost his footing, and slid halfway down, did he begin to have second thoughts.

The beauty of that hill as a sledding slope was the fact that there were no trees to get in the way of a nice, straight slide. This also meant there were no trees to use as foot- or handholds on the way up and down.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good—

Another patch of snow slipped out from beneath him and Adam slipped further down the hill. The fact that Joe hadn’t been able to slide on his bottom had been deceiving. The lower half of the slope was icier and Adam’s added weight sent him sliding all the way into the snowbank, where Hoss and Joe waited for him with freshly made snowballs in hand.

His smile at their playful throws was a bit forced, but he refused to let them in on his growing apprehension.

Maybe climbing up is easier than climbing down…

The boys busied themselves with building another snowman while Adam studied the hill. Well, there’s only one way to find out.

Three or four feet up the slope was about as far as he got before his feet slid out from under him. A second try proved just as fruitless.

Great…

“Adam, look!”

He had to admit, the two-decker snowman was impressive—about as impressive as a ten- and three-year-old could make it, of course.

“Very nice.”

Think. There has to be an easier way back up.

Joe scrunched his nose. “Don’t you like it?”

“I said it was nice, Joe.” What do you want from me?

“You don’t sound very ‘cited.”

Adam forced a smile. “I’m very excited about it. It’s absolutely wonderful. Now, how about we take a little walk over there and find some fresh snow?”

“Yeah!” Joe was already running, Hoss hot on his heels.

Adam trudged after them, feeling more winded than he figured he should have been by now. Lifting obnoxiously heavy snowballs, climbing down and up hills, and trying to keep up with youthful energy had all begun to catch up with him.

But if they could walk a little ways along the bank of the hill, they would no doubt come across an easier climb. Or a few more trees to grab onto during our ascent.

“We should make a snow fort!” Hoss exclaimed after a bit, falling backward into the snow like Joe and making an angel.

“Actually, I think now would be a good time to start heading back—”

“Ah!” When Joe held up his hand, Adam felt physical pain as he swallowed a curse. The last thing he needed was Joe picking up any new words, but damned if saying it wouldn’t have helped some.

“For goodness sake, Joe, just… Oh, here. Hold still.” If the kid wouldn’t wiggle his fingers so much, maybe getting it on each time would be easier.

“All right,” he declared, clapping his hands together with a sharp, non-negotiable air of finality. “Let’s start heading home.”

Hoss frowned. “Already?”

“What?” Adam raised a brow in his direction. “You really want to miss lunch?”

“Oh! Well, when ya put it that way…”

Making a dash for the hill, Hoss got just about as far as Adam had, only this time, there was a big brother standing behind to give him a push.

“Grab onto that tree up there, Hoss. See it? There you go.” Turning to Joe once Hoss was secure about a quarter of the way up, Adam pursed his lips. “Think you can wait here while I help Hoss? Then I’ll come back for you.”

Joe nodded, plopping down in the snow, eager to have a little more playtime.

Confident Joe wouldn’t go wandering off anywhere, Adam climbed up to Hoss, helping him use the sparse cluster of trees to reach the top. He hadn’t realized how many times they had both slipped and had to cover the same ground again until he reached the hilltop winded.

Hoss collapsed on the ground beside him, content to lie there for a few moments and catch his breath. Adam didn’t have that luxury.

He had to go back for Joe.

Going down was definitely easier and Adam used the break to decide the best way to go about climbing back up with Joe, who was in no way as strong or adept as Hoss.

You’ll figure it out. You always do.

You always have to.

“Ready, kid?”

As predictable as the winter weather, Joe shook his head.

“Too bad.” Adam grabbed the little guy’s hand and began helping him up the slope.

When the glove came off, he picked up both it and Joe, then struggled to the top.

“Adam, my hand’s cold!“

“I think,” Adam grit out on a labored breath, “you need to ask your Ma for a better set of gloves.”

“She’s your Ma, too.”

Adam pursed his lips. No comment.

It was a struggle, climbing with Joe in his arms. So much so that Hoss started cheering him on from the top. Joe joined in, which resulted in Adam telling them both to knock it off so he could concentrate.

And telling Joe to stop squirming, will you?

He almost dropped the kid twice, and the second they hit the top, Adam hit the ground, fighting to catch his breath.

His muscles burned and his calves had become his new worst enemies.

But it was fine. They’d made it.

It’s a straight shoot home from here…

“Adam…?” When he opened his eyes, Hoss was hovering over him.

“Just hold on.” Adam let his eyelids slip closed for one more moment. “We’ll head back in a second or two.”

Though he made no other protest, Hoss was sitting dutifully at Adam’s side when he finally pried himself off the ground. Joe had ventured a few feet away to play in a new patch of snow, his glove discarded beside him.

Should’ve seen that one coming.

It seemed to dawn on Joe suddenly that he was completely gloveless because he glanced around, panic-stricken, before making a dash for Adam.

In silence, Adam put on the glove from his pocket and the one in the snow.

“Come on, let’s head home.”

Before he loses one of those things for good.

He didn’t even want to think that far ahead. Somewhere along the line, Joe had already lost—or ditched—his hat, his dark curls now streaked with white.

Hair grew back a lot quicker than fingers and Adam didn’t need Joe getting frostbite because of a lost glove.

The kid’s lost them enough times, he probably already has it. But his fingers hadn’t looked blue, so that was a good sign…

Dickens called his name from afar and Adam could picture exactly where he’d left his current read. Just off to the side of the fireplace after grabbing a few pages last night before bed.

Thoughts of a warm fire beckoned him like one of the Bucket O’ Blood’s painted saloon girls.

And food. Food. Until that moment, Adam hadn’t realized how hungry he’d gotten.

Lunch sounded amazing right about now.

“How much longer?” Joe’s feet dragged beside him and Adam glanced down. The boy’s shoulders were slumped, almost as if he could topple face-first in the snow at any moment.

A rest didn’t sound like such a bad idea…

Adam blinked, clearing his head. How long had it been?

We couldn’t have gone that far.

“Just a little longer, Joe. We’re almost there.” And that was the thing about older siblings: they excelled at lying through their teeth.

Adam was no exception.

Sometimes, you just have to.

Joe accepted that answer for about five minutes.

“There yet?”

Adam clenched his jaw, willing the curses to remain locked behind his teeth. “Do you see the ranch?” A small shake of the head. “Then we’re not there yet. Just be patient.”

That bought him another five minutes. A few inches behind him, Hoss began to huff.

Why did trudging through the snow always seem so much harder than walking on grass?

There’s more to work around. He pursed his lips. Heavy boots had to work twice as hard to slosh through the thick blanket of white, compounded by the extra weight brought on by thick layers of clothes.

Right.

No wonder he was feeling out of breath.

Are you kidding? You’ve been out of breath since that hill.

“I don’t think,” Joe panted, “my legs can be patient anymore.”

Without missing a beat, Adam turned around and scooped up the child, resting Joe on his hip.

His muscles screaming in protest, choosing that moment to remind him that scaling a hill with a toddler was a fool’s idea.

It would’ve taken us forever and a day if I hadn’t.

Either the distance home had doubled when Adam wasn’t looking, or they had ventured further than he’d thought.

Only, it hadn’t felt like they had wandered that far.

What is it they say? Time flies when you’re having fun.

Sucking in a breath did nothing to soothe his aching lungs.

And it goes slower than a snail when you’re tired.

He shouldn’t have been this worn out. Exhausted already? Can’t keep up with a couple of kids? What are you, fifteen or fifty?

Gritting his teeth, Adam shifted Joe on his arm, ignoring the way his skin was beginning to fall asleep.

If he could just focus on their target destination… One foot in front of the other. That’s it.

Left, right.

Left, right.

Left, thump.

Adam craned his neck around, pulled slowly out of his stupor of concentration by the realization that Hoss was, in fact, sitting in the snow.

“You all right, buddy?”

Hoss’ chest heaved up and down in such a way that made Adam’s own lungs feel utterly depleted.

“Jus’ restin’,” he replied after a few seconds.

It’s fine. He’s fine. Adam forced himself to breathe. It’s gonna be—

“That hill,” Hoss huffed. “I think it just about took it outta me.”

“Just about? So, do you think you can keep going if you hold my hand?”

A shrug was all he got in reply. That’s fine. I can work with that.

Joining Hoss, Adam stuck out a helping hand, willing the boy to take it.

“Come on, Hoss, you can do it.”

Though Hoss didn’t look like he believed that, he took Adam’s hand anyway and hauled himself to his feet.

And that worked fine for a while.

Until Adam felt his arm tug toward the ground and saw Hoss kneeling in the snow.

For the briefest of moments, Adam felt the temptation taunt him. It would be so easy to join his brother, to collapse in the snow and catch his breath. Maybe they could all lay there for a while and just watch the snow fall.

Snowfall…

When the sky had started sending thick cotton ball flakes down on them, Adam couldn’t remember. All he knew was that if he let himself lie down, he might never get back up.

“All right.” Bracing his already abused muscles, Adam bent down, prompting Hoss to climb atop his back. “I’ve got you.”

He couldn’t recall Hoss weighing that much before… Or maybe you’re just weak.

Adam huffed. Or tired.

And achy. And cold.

Freezing cold.

Funny how the chill only gets to you on the way back home, not when you’re out having a good time.

We have to be almost there. We have to be—

Joe’s glove… fell off.

“Damn.”

“Didn’t Pa say not ta say that word?” Hoss’ voice sounded in his ear.

“No, he told you not to say it,” Adam countered, pushing his legs to keep moving forward.

“What? But I only said it that one time!“

“And Adam says it lots a’ times.” Joe’s helpful addition to the conversation had Adam wondering just how many times he’d slipped in front of his baby brother. “My glove!”

Adam shook his head. “We’re already too far ahead. Don’t worry, Pa’ll get you a new one. Until that happens, though, take mine.”

The large glove practically devoured Joe’s tiny hand, but the boy seemed satisfied. Adam just wouldn’t think about the way the cold nipped at his flesh.

The wind picked up, whipping at his hand and face, and causing Joe to finally appreciate his missing hat.

“My head’s cold,” he whined. “And my ears. Adam, the wind’s eating my ears.“

Before Adam could offer up his hat, too, he felt a small shift behind him. Hoss’ hand stretched out, plopping his own hat atop Joe’s head.

Despite the winter chill and obnoxiously gusty wind, a warmth blossomed in Adam’s chest.

Trying to hold up both kids and thinking about Hoss’ small sacrifice took up enough mental energy that Adam almost didn’t register the log against his boot. Half a second before his face slammed into the snow, felt Joe fly out of his arms.

Best not to land on top of him, came the final thought as his world turned to white.

This was fine… His body immediately relaxed, sinking deeper into the snow. If only Hoss would stop crushing him, but it was fine.

He figured he could lay there for a hundred years and still not feel rested enough to go on.

Joe’s crying tugged at the back of his mind. Maybe now would be a good time to stand up…

Instead, Adam rolled onto his back, discovering Hoss’ hovering frame, his face contorted with worry.

“Adam!”

“Mmm…” He jerked his eyes open, knowing it would be damn near impossible to pry them open slowly. “‘M still here, Hoss.”

“Yeah, but are you okay?”

“I will be.” Once he wiped the snow off his face. It dug into his skin like tiny needles, numbing his nose and cheeks.

Hoss helped, bless his heart, and soon he pulled Adam up…

… Where Adam just sat for a long moment. Hunched over, chest heaving.

Joe.

“Go find your brother.” It would’ve been so easy to say; to give himself another few minutes to rest.

But no. He’s crying for you. He needs you.

With Hoss’ aid, Adam staggered back to his feet.

Joe was covered with snow, large crocodile tears trailing down his cheeks as he just sat there, unhappy with his fate yet unwilling to do anything about it.

“Come on, buddy, you’re okay.” You’ll be okay.

Brushing off Joe, Adam picked him up once more, Hoss reclaiming his place on Adam’s back.

You can do this…

Despite being back in Adam’s arms, Joe’s tears kept coming.

“I wanna go h-home!”

“I’m trying to get us there, don’t worry.”

“I m-miss M-Mama!”

Of course. They’d reached that point. The “only Mama can make me stop crying” moment that usually reared its ugly head when Joe got hurt.

“Aw, come on, Little Joe,” Hoss soothed, “you’ll see her soon.”

“I want M-Mama!”

“Hey, let’s play a game, Joe,” Adam began and Joe sniffled. “You tell me your favorite thing about your Ma.”

Another sniffle. “Will you play, t-too?”

“We’ll all play. You get to go first.”

“I like Mama’s…” A shiver wracked his little frame, making Adam wish he could clutch the boy tighter. But he couldn’t lose his grip on Hoss. “…Hair.”

He could almost see the way Hoss’ nose scrunched in confusion. “Her hair? I mean, it’s purty, but… Her hair?”

“It’s soft. And she lets me go like this.” Joe let go of Adam just long enough to make a combing motion with his fingers. “And she sings better than anybody.”

Inger sang better, came the intrusive little worm of a thought.

He shouldn’t be comparing, but it was an old habit that resurfaced every once in a while.

Marie had been around for years now. He was used to her. She wasn’t his Ma, but he was… used to her. He had been ever since she had stopped trying to mother him, at least.

“She does sing pretty good,” Hoss agreed, and Adam couldn’t help but wonder if the boy remembered another kind of song. If he could recall flashes of a Swedish soprano; of soft hands and  gentle whispers… “But I love Ma’s stories. She always has the best ones. Most I never even heard of!”

Sugar-coated tales from New Orleans and fancy fairy tales that were sure to have been made up on the spot. Not classics like the kind Inger used to—

But isn’t that what all stories are, anyway? Made up?

“Adam?”

He turned his attention back to Joe. Back to putting one foot in front of the other and not tripping over another log. “What?”

“Your turn.”

Oh.

But what could he say? All his favorite things about Marie were the kind Hoss might not understand and Joe couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

He liked that she wasn’t pushy. Anymore.

He liked that she gave him space. Most of the time.

He liked that she didn’t try to make him change. Anymore.

He liked—

Adam sucked in a breath. “My favorite thing about her… is the way she makes Pa happy.”

And that was the truth. He had been at his father’s side through disaster upon disaster, loss after loss. It was nice to sit back and watch him just be happy for once. To see his happiness last longer than a year or two.

Joe clung to him, sighing as the tears all but faded away.

Hoss let out a dreamy sigh. “I like that, too.”

As the minutes dragged by, Adam had to wonder if they were even moving at all. It certainly didn’t seem like it.

If we’re actually covering any ground…

Well, shouldn’t they have something to show for it? Shouldn’t we have been there by now…?

“Just hold on.” The words slipped out, and if Adam was being honest, he didn’t quite know who he was talking to. Joe had been silent since the fall and Hoss seemed to be using all his concentration to hold on.

Adam tightened his grip on his brother’s legs, hefting him up. He hadn’t realized the kid had been slipping…

“We’re… We’re almost there. Just hold on… Hold on…”

Joe was more or less holding on for dear life now, arms wrapped tightly around Adam’s neck while the latter tried his best to hold up both boys.

Just hold on.

Left, right, left—

Almost there.

Right, left.

Almost…

“Adam?” Phantom whispers must have been blowing on the wind now because that sounded for all the world like—

Oh, please, let it be…

“Adam!”

“Pa!” Joe’s voice sounded in his ear and Adam glanced up. “Pa! We’re back and I’m c-cold!“

They made it.

It took Adam a moment to wrap his head around the fact.

They were home.

Joe squirmed out of his arms and it was all Adam could do to keep from groaning. Maybe holding up a book wasn’t so appealing after all.

A nice bed. That’s what he needed.

Rest. Sleep…

Hoss slid off his back and this time, Adam couldn’t bite down on his tongue fast enough. Straightening to his full height was hell, almost enough to make being hunched over for the rest of his life sound appealing.

Pa’s hand on his shoulder guided him toward the house. “Are you all right, son? You three have been gone a long time. I was just coming to look for you.”

Adam watched as Joe ran to Marie, who was standing on the porch, and though Hoss clearly wanted to follow suit, he looked dead on his feet.

“Wandered a little too far, I guess,” Adam said at last, trying to keep the fatigue from bleeding into his voice—and failing miserably.

The warmth of the house hit him all at once, a wall of heat that Adam savored.

May I never go out in the cold again.

He couldn’t recall slipping into a chair, didn’t remember closing his eyes, and when Pa shook him awake, the black of night colored the windows.

Adam glanced up, sleep still clinging to his brain, beckoning him back into its comfortable arms.

“Hmm?”

“Supper’s ready,” Pa said, the small crinkles in the corners of his eyes betraying his concern. “Are you feeling any better? You looked a little worse for wear this afternoon.”

Though his muscles ached, intent on punishing him for pushing himself so hard, Adam couldn’t help but grin, feeling more rested than he had in a while.

“Pa, do me a favor, will you?”

His father raised a brow.

“Buy Joe some new gloves. And make sure they fit.“

Pa grinned, giving Adam’s shoulder a pat before heading for the table.

As Adam rose from his chair, he noticed the blanket warming his legs and feet. The one Marie had made him for his last birthday. A different type of flower was embroidered subtly around the first three corners. A Swedish purple harebell for Inger, a white and pink mayflower for Elizabeth, and Marie’s own favorite, roses. In the fourth corner, all three flowers came together to form a delicate bouquet.

It was on trying days like this that Adam liked to look at the blanket.

Because it reminded him that, despite their getting off on the wrong foot at first, Marie understood.

She must have covered him up shortly after he fell asleep…

Maybe that was his favorite thing about her. She understood this part of him that was often so hard to explain to others—so he’d long since stopped trying.

This part of him that could love three different mothers in three unique ways.