Chapter 1

“Adam… Adam,” he called, writing on the bed, tossing his sweaty head back and forth across the white pillow. His dark hair was glued to his forehead with sweat, but he was shivering. It made me realize just what a body has to go through with a fever.

My youngest brother’s eyes were closed, and his face just showed pain. Unnecessary pain. Pain that I put there. It ripped my heart out to see Joe so out of it after I had… had… shot him, and then he’d been attacked by that wolf. I was so careless, and now, that careless mistake could possibly be killing my baby brother.

When I noticed the cloth on his head was getting warm, I got up and soaked it in the basin full of cool water. I heard the door knock and with a grunt of approval, I answered it. I didn’t even give the courtesy of making eye contact.

“Sheila asked me to bring this up. It’s nice and cool,” smiled Emmet Reardon. Inwardly, I smiled. This man had been nothing but positive and helpful from that first moment I saw him. He seemed to really care about Joe, and maybe, even me a little. By now, I’d walked back over to Joe, who was still fighting his dreams. “Fever down any?” he asked, and I could tell he was genuinely concerned.

“It’s higher,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Oh, probably means something inside him is fighting hard,” he marveled in that distinct little accent. I was in no mood for it. In a way, though, he was right. Joe always fought hard, no matter what he was up against. Sometimes I really wanted to beat that kid for it, but at times like this, I was thankful he wouldn’t give up.

“Is there never a bad side to a thing with you?” My voice was deathly low.

“I try not to ignore facts, but there’s also such a thing as faith,” he told me. “When that medicine gets there, Little Joe’s life will be in the hands of God and Science, to stanch allies.” He said that with such gusto and credibility, and I knew it was for my sake.

“You always have the ready-made words for every occasion, don’t you Mr. Reardon?” I threw back at him rather curtly. That shut him up.

Emmet’s daughter Shelia appeared before him with a disgusted puss on her face. She flounced in with her straight blonde hair down, and for the umpteenth time, she looked at Joe with disgust. Almost… disappointment.

“Has my father been upsetting you?” she asked.

“I’m afraid I didn’t need much stimulus,” I told her with a scoff as I sat down on the bed near Joe. He seemed to know I was there, because as soon as I sat down, Joe threw his arm out and grabbed my shirt.

“Adam…? Adam…? Adam, get him off me!” Joe cried, and his hands clasped onto my black shirt. “Help me, Adam… please…”

“Shelia, can you excuse us for a moment?” I asked, rather told, her.

She left, and I was glad. It was hard for me to open up to Joe even though he was past hearing me. In front of Shelia, a complete stranger, I just couldn’t. There was something in the way Shelia looked at Joe that hurt me. It was like she was mad at him. For… I don’t even know. Something I had learned these past two days is that Shelia was an odd girl.

“Adam!… Adam! I’m shot…I…I’m shot…” Joe started to shout as he thrashed against my restraining grip. I did my best to hold him down without causing him anymore pain. That was the last thing I wanted to do.

“Adam… Adam help me. Oh, please… please…” Tears formed in his eyes and Joe started to sob. It was almost more than I could bear. Guilt washed over me as I tried to calm him down.

It had been my bullet that was shot into Joe. It was my fault that the wolf had the chance to attack Joe. All of this. The fact that the kid was being tortured by nightmares, reliving hell over and over again was happening because of me just killed me. That had to be the worst part of it. It was enough that Joe actually had to go through that to begin with. But to live it over again… and again…

Again, I pushed the thought from my mind. There would be time to deal with that later. A lifetime, in fact. Right now, I had to make Joe well again. I had to right the wrong I did to him, if it was the last thing I did.

I put my hand on his head and started to whisper to him, to calm him down. The heat coming from him practically burned my hand, but I tried to ignore it and comfort him anyway. “Shh… You’re alright, boy. He can’t get you. Rest easy, Joe. I’ll protect you,” I cooed. I desperately tried to make him understand that he was safe.

“Adam! Adam… I’m shot! I’m shot!” he yelled, conveying the shock he felt when that bullet hit his left shoulder. “Get him off… get him off!”

“I know, Joe. I know. You’re alright, Joe. You’re okay, buddy. I’m right here… I’m here, Joe.” Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them fall. After all, I was the big brother. The smart one. The one you turn to for help. The one you could always count on. “I’ll protect you, always.” That was one promise, over the years, I had kept. And I always would.

“Adam, come down, quickly!” Emmet called, and once I got Joe settled down again, I ran down the stairs, not knowing what I was going to have to face.

In my mind, though, one thing was certain. No matter what happens, I was going to protect Joe. Now and forever.