“…there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.”

Proverbs 18: 24b

Author’s note:

This story takes place a few months after “Reflections” and features Jim and Dan. We fanfic writers like to dispute which character Trixie would choose for her love interest. Regardless of whom Trixie picks, I believe Jim and Dan would stick by each other. These two guys share a bond so strong that they would never allow a girl to come between them. Each has endured more suffering, pain, and torture than any one person should be permitted, and their tragic pasts would inevitably draw them together.

By the way, I have been advised to issue a hanky warning for this story. You may or may not need a tissue while reading “Blood Brothers”, so if you believe in being prepared like Jim, you might want to grab a Kleenex®.

This story was posted in honor of the Ninth Jixaversary Celebration. Happy birthday, Jix, and Happy Jixaversary to CathyP, who is not only the Queen of Trixie Fanfic, she’s also a lady who is near and dear to my heart. I l♥ve you, Moms!

A couple of months after Black Jacket and Reflections…

It started out as just another ordinary day in Sleepyside. However, this seemingly mundane period of time proved to be the catalyst that would change the lives of many of the town’s residents.

Unaware that he would be the tool used to implement the aforementioned change, husky Jim Frayne stepped out on the porch of Elijah Maypenny’s cabin.

“As much as I’d love to visit longer, I should be getting home, Mr. Maypenny.”

“Thank you again for bringing by my check, lad,” Mr. Maypenny called as he followed young man out the door.

“No problem.” Jim’s lips curved in its usual crooked grin. “It’s never a bother to stop by your cabin. I’m always happy whenever I have an excuse to pop over and sample some of your famous hunter’s stew and homemade doughnuts.”

“You’re always welcome to visit anytime you wish, Jim.”

“Thanks!” With a parting wave, the teenager headed down the porch steps and towards the fence where he’d tethered Jupiter.

The broad-shouldered young man took his time walking down the graveled driveway. The frosty weather had broken, and spring had finally sprung in Sleepyside. After a long winter, it felt good to be out in the warm sunshine. Hints of green were popping up all over the place, and Jim noticed that the Easter lilies in Mr. Maypenny’s yard had even started to bloom. At last the season of new beginnings had dawned after the cold, bleak winter.

The sound of an ax’s thud startled Jim out of his thoughts. Must be Dan, splitting firewood, the redhead decided. Seems like that’s all he ever does…

Dan Mangan had come to live with Mr. Maypenny this past February. Although his initial reception had been rocky, the Bob-Whites had been trying to make Regan’s nephew feel welcome. In spite of their efforts, the group had learned quickly that the newcomer was even harder to become acquainted with than his uncle. While Dan was friendly enough, there seemed to be a lot bubbling under the surface that made it difficult for the Bob-Whites to understand him.

Except for Jim.

Deep down, Jim sensed he had more in common with Dan than he did the Belden brothers. Both orphaned young, the boys’ circumstances had forced them to scrape by however they could. It had been rumored around town that Dan had been in some sort of trouble with the law before coming to Sleepyside. What kind of trouble, nobody knew for sure, and neither Dan nor Regan seemed willing to provide any details. Although some of the kids at school were quick to speculate about the former gang member’s past, Jim never passed judgment. He knew firsthand how tough it was to survive when you were alone. A kid on the streets did whatever was necessary to make it through the night alive, but Jim knew most of his friends in Sleepyside would never, could never, understand that.

And for their sake, he was thankful for that.

Impulsively, Jim veered off the graveled path leading to the fence and headed towards the backyard. Sure enough, there was Dan, chopping maul in hand. The dark-haired boy wiped the perspiration from his forehead as he prepared to split a large log into firewood.

“Hey!” Jim called in greeting.

Dan flashed his friend an inviting grin. “You have perfect timing. I was just wishing that Mr. Maypenny would send reinforcements to help me get the rest of this wood chopped.”

“I guess your prayers have been answered; help has arrived!” Jim returned Dan’s grin. “Do you have an extra splitter?”

“I was just joking, Jim,” Dan corrected, holding up a hand in protest. “It won’t take me long at all to finish this up. And believe it or not, I actually kind of like it.”

Although Jim nodded, he couldn’t help but notice the tall pile of logs waiting to be quartered. Dan would be lucky to finish by dawn, much less in time to go out with the rest of the Bob-Whites later that evening.

“So, what brings you to this part of town?” Dan propped his maul against the tree trunk he’d been using as a base. “Is one of the squirrels having a wild party? They’re bad about that, you know.”

Jim chuckled. “Dad had Mr. Maypenny’s check ready. Since it was so nice outside, I volunteered to bring it over. Jupiter and I enjoyed hitting the trails in this pretty weather.”

“Yeah, it’s downright hot today,” Dan commented as he wiped another bead of sweat from his forehead. “Sure is a lot warmer than it was a couple of weeks ago.”

“That’s the truth.” Jim shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Hey, do you think you’ll be able to make it to the movies tonight? The Cameo’s playing a new action movie. It has lots of blood, girls, and explosions, so I’m guessing it’s pretty good.”

Dan shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. It depends if I get this all split and stacked.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t chopped down all the trees in New York State by now.” Jim laughed as he pointed at the shed. The stack of firewood inside nearly reached the roof. “Why, you have enough firewood in there to last a year.”

“Not when your fire-powered generator constantly needs kindling,” Dan corrected good-naturedly. “That thing’s got an even bigger appetite than Mart.”

“My chemistry teacher told me about those. He said they cost almost thirty grand.”

“Mr. Maypenny built his own,” Dan explained proudly. “He’s a genius, especially when it comes to figuring out ways to save money. He may not have made it past the seventh grade, but he’s smarter than any rocket scientist. You should see some of the things he’s invented.”

Even if Jim had known someone more intelligent than Mr. Maypenny, he wouldn’t have disagreed with Dan for the world. Dan’s devotion to the old man who’d taken him in was touching, even to a teenage boy like Jim who refused to even use the word “touching” in that way.

“Yeah, they don’t make ‘em like Mr. Maypenny anymore,” Jim remarked.

“They sure don’t.” Dan glanced back at the pile of logs. “Well, if I’m going to the movies tonight, I’d better get back to work.”

Jim looked around the woodshed. “Where’s an extra maul? Two sets of hands will get that wood chopped a lot faster.”

Dan shook his head. “You don’t have to do that, Jim. You probably had to do your own chores this morning; you don’t need to do mine, too.”

“I honestly don’t mind, especially if it helps get you to the Cameo on time for the show,” Jim insisted. “You haven’t been out with the Bob-Whites for a week or two.”

Although Jim worried at first that his offer of assistance would be refused, Dan grinned over at him gratefully. “There’s an extra splitting maul in the tool shed. But if you help me, you have to let me buy you a pack of Milk Duds at the concession stand to pay you back.”

“Make it Lemon Heads and you’ve got a deal,” Jim agreed enthusiastically.

It didn’t take long for Jim to find the tools he needed. For the most part, the boys worked in silence. Occasionally, one of them would grunt or groan because of the physical strain, but it was difficult to swing an ax and have a conversation at the same time. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the pile of logs grew smaller. After a while, both teenagers were drenched in sweat.

“Whew!” Dan muttered. He swiped the back of hand against his forehead, brushing a stream of perspiration onto the ground. “I’m burning up! This black T-shirt’s a sun magnet.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish it was thirty degrees again,” Jim joked.

Dan pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the grass a few feet away. “I don’t know about you, but that shirt has got to go.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Jim muttered. He followed Dan’s lead and yanked off his own green T-shirt.

“At least we’ll get a head start on a tan.”

Jim snorted. “Huh. Not me. I’ll just burn and then my freckles will multiply.”

“Well,” Dan began, “maybe if you get enough freckles, you’ll look tan.”

The boys laughed and then went back to work. While Dan paused to sharpen his blade, Jim stooped down and picked up an armful of firewood. At that moment, Dan happened to glance over at Jim as he carried his armful of logs to the shed. Dan inhaled sharply as he noticed the angry-looking scars covering his friend’s back. When Jim turned back around, Dan quickly looked away.

Concentrating on the task set before them, Jim was oblivious to Dan’s discomfort. “I think we’re making good progress.”

“Yeah,” Dan mumbled, making sure to keep his eyes focused on the ground.

“You might make it to the movies after all,” Jim remarked. He bent down to select another log.

Like a driver craning his neck to gawk at a car accident, Dan was unable to quit peeking at Jim’s back. He wondered what had caused such trauma and when it had happened. However, he was too embarrassed to ask.

“We might even have time to shower and change our clothes,” Jim said. “Of course, it’d be funny to see the looks on the girls’ faces if we showed up like this.”

Dan hoped his laugh didn’t sound forced.

Jim looked over at him, his ginger brows creased with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dan answered hastily.

Jim nodded and resumed his work. Once he was occupied, Dan snuck another peek at the disfigurements covering Jim’s back. He could tell that they had once been a bright red color, but had faded to pink, telling Dan that Jim hadn’t gotten them too long ago. What really surprised Dan was how many there were. He tried to count them all, but found it was impossible. They seemed to overlap, giving Dan the impression that Jim had been injured repeatedly.

Dan touched the scar on his lip. It looked nasty, but it wasn’t nearly as gruesome as the marks on Jim. He then touched the patch of burned skin just above the waistband of his low-riding jeans. That wound had been particularly painful, but even that couldn’t compare to the ones all over Jim’s back. Dan shook his head, wondering what torturous device could’ve possibly inflicted such nasty wounds on his friend.

Feeling someone’s eyes upon him, Jim glanced over at Dan. “What?”

“N-nothing,” Dan stammered, embarrassed that he’d been caught.

Jim chuckled. “I must be imagining things. I thought for sure someone was staring at me. I guess I’ve been hanging around Trixie too long; everything’s starting to feel mysterious to me.”

Dan managed to laugh. However, once Jim continued working, his gaze fastened right back onto those scars as he tried to discern what kind of weapon had caused them.

Jim whirled around like a flash of lightning. “This time I know you were watching me.” He paled, and then gulped out, “You aren’t… you know…are you?”

“No!” Dan protested. “Dude, that’s the last thing you have to worry about!”

“So why were you checking me out?” Jim demanded.

“Trust me, I wasn’t checking you out.” Dan snorted at the likelihood of that ever happening.

Jim’s neck turned red, and it wasn’t because he’d gotten too much sun. “Then why were you staring at me?”

Dan sighed loudly. “You have… I mean, there are…” Unable to explain, he merely pointed at Jim’s back.

“What?” Jim craned his head back as far as it would go, trying to see what had Dan so captivated. “Is there a bee on me or something?”

Dan shook his head. “No, it’s not a bee.” He took a deep breath, and then blurted out, “I just noticed your back.”

“My back?” Jim repeated the phrase, still mystified. After a few seconds of thought, the light bulb finally came on. He nodded slowly, a nervous smile parting his lips. “I forgot that you hadn’t seen my badges of honor yet.”

Dan cringed as he searched his friend’s face for any sign of embarrassment. While he felt completely humiliated, Jim seemed only moderately uncomfortable, and that didn’t last long. Having borne the stigma of his disfigurements for some time, the red-haired boy brushed off the mention of his scars with the maturity of man twice his age. He seemed more concerned about Dan feeling awkward.

“Don’t worry about it, Dan,” Jim urged, eager to ease the tension. “They don’t hurt… anymore. I’m used to them.”

Dan gulped loudly, sneaking in another hasty peek. “The others… Do the rest of the Bob-Whites know they’re there?”

“Yeah, we swim together a lot in the summer, and they’re kind of hard to hide.”

“Are… Are the others used to them?”

“I guess so,” Jim said, shrugging. “We don’t sit around talking about them or anything. Brian and Mart have asked me about them, though.”

“What about the girls?”

“I don’t think Diana’s seen them yet, but Trixie and Honey have,” Jim answered.

In a voice barely above a whisper, Dan prodded for more details. “What did they do?”

“Honey cried when she first saw them, but Trixie’s never said anything. She just looked mad.” For the first time since this particular discussion began, Jim looked self-conscious. “Do you want me to put my shirt back on so you can’t see them?”

“No, you’re fine!” Dan held up a hand, motioning for Jim to stop what he was doing. Dan shook his head in a disparaging manner. Although a million words raced through his brain, only two were able to find their way out of his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Jim snorted. “You didn’t give them to me.”

After a long pause, Dan finally asked, “Who did?”

Instead of immediately answering Dan’s question, Jim put down the maul he’d been using. “We’re almost finished here. Do you want to take a break?”

“Sure,” Dan agreed. He led the way to the back porch of the cabin, where he and Jim found two ancient lawn chairs. Once they were settled, Dan remained quiet, not wishing to rush Jim.

It didn’t take long for Jim to start talking. “What have you heard about me?”

Dan shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing bad. The kids at school seem to respect you. All the guys I’ve met said you were smart and good at sports.” He flashed a plucky grin, and then added, “And for some reason that I really don’t understand, a bunch of the girls think you’re not too bad to look at.”

Jim’s cheeks reddened considerably. “Uh, that’s nice to know, but actually, I wanted to know what you’d heard about my life before I came to Sleepyside.”

“Oh,” Dan murmured thoughtfully. “Well, Uncle Bill told me that your parents had died, and that the Wheelers adopted you last summer. That’s all true, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s all true,” Jim affirmed. “But there was a long gap in between my parents’ death and the Wheelers adopting me.” He studied Dan’s expression and found surprise, so he continued talking.

“Dad died when I was ten. He was the greatest guy who ever lived. We were really close, so his death hit me hard. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten over it.”

Dan nodded sadly. “Same here.”

“My mom was really special, too.” Jim’s eyes shone as he talked about his mother. “In a way, Mrs. Belden reminds me of her. Mom was always fussing over me, and even when she was mad at me, a mean word never came out of her mouth. And boy, could she cook! I’d give anything for just one bite of her baked steak. Nobody makes it as good as she does, not even Mrs. Belden.”

“Ma burned everything to a crisp,” Dan admitted with a sentimental smile. However, his tone was affectionate, and his eyes shone just as brightly as Jim’s.

“Mom was never very strong.” Jim sighed sadly. “It got even worse after Dad died. I tried to take care of her, but a ten-year-old kid can only do so much.”

Dan bobbed his head up and down. He knew exactly what Jim was saying.

“One day I came home from fishing and found a strange man at the house.” Jim groaned as he recalled the events of that fateful day. “He was there to look at some farm equipment that Mom had for sale, but even I could tell he was more interested in my mother than that plow. Jonesy was his name. He was a real jerk, but he was slick about it. Around my mom, he’d put on the big father-figure act, but when we were alone, he was as nasty as he could be. He hated me right from the start, and I felt the same way about him.

“I never understood what Mom saw in him,” he continued sadly. “He was good to her, though, and in spite of all his other faults, he really did love her. But he hated my guts more and more every day.”

“Did you tell your mom?” Dan asked.

Jim shook his head. “I tried to once, but then she started having heart problems. I decided not to worry her about it. I wish I would have, though, because she ended up marrying the guy. I don’t think she really loved him; she just wanted to know that someone would be around to take care of me if anything happened to her. Deep down, I think she knew she was dying.”

Pain filled Dan’s eyes as he listened. Although their situations weren’t exactly alike, they were similar enough to dredge up all the heartbreak he had experienced in his short life.

“They hadn’t been married very long when she passed away,” Jim said softly. “She missed my dad so much that she grieved herself to death. I remember thinking that I was glad she was with Dad again, but that I wished she’d taken me with her instead of leaving me with Jonesy.”

“Did he knock you around?”

“Not while Mom was alive.” Jim’s expression was vacant, almost as if he was talking about someone else’s situation.

“When did it start?”

“As soon as we got home from the funeral.”

Dan’s breath caught in his throat. He remembered the horrible pain he had felt at his own mother’s service. At the time he thought there could be nothing worse than leaving the cemetery in handcuffs. He was wrong. Being physically beaten when one was already so emotionally weak would be almost too much to bear.

Dan gulped back the lump that had risen in his throat. “Was Jonesy drunk when he beat you, Jim?”

“Yeah.” Jim’s voice was barely audible. “The minute I saw him break out the whiskey bottle, I knew I was in for it. He’d get that studded belt of his and just start wailing on me. He’d keep hitting me over and over until one of us passed out, him from the booze or me from the pain. That’s why I decided not to drink when I’m older. I’m afraid of what it could do to me.”

Dan nodded. He’d made a similar vow after his mother’s death.

“You know what?” Jim asked thoughtfully. “I think the nasty things he screamed at me did more damage than his belt. Sometimes at night, I still hear him yelling at me.”

For what seemed like several minutes, Dan sat quietly, processing his friend’s words. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him. “How’d you get away?”

“I just couldn’t take it anymore,” Jim said, his voice void of emotion. “I’d tried to run away before, but Jonesy would always find me. On the Fourth of July, I decided I’d either run away for good or die trying. I ran and ran that first day, desperate to get as far as I could. I finally collapsed in the woods somewhere, too exhausted to run any farther. The last thought that went through my head was that it truly was Independence Day.”

Dan was so moved by Jim’s story that it took him a minute to speak. “What’d Jonesy do when he found out you’d left?”

“He figured out that I was in Sleepyside,” Jim replied. “He tried to kill me by setting Ten Acres on fire. He thought I was sleeping there, and sometimes I wish I would’ve been. If he ever finds out that I’m still alive, he’ll come back to finish the job.”

Chills ran up Dan’s arms. He could tell by Jim’s tone that he wasn’t exaggerating.

Jim leaned closer and spoke with confidence. “Part of me almost hopes that he does come back.”

Dan’s eyebrows shot up. Something scared him about Jim’s tone. “Why’s that?”

“Because if Jonesy does come back, I’m going to kill him,” Jim replied, his voice eerily matter-of-fact.

“You can’t be serious!” Dan protested.

“I’m dead serious.” Jim’s jaw twitched from the effort of suppressing the rage that consumed him. “My biggest regret is that I didn’t kill Jonesy when I had the chance. Believe me, I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Trust me, you’re better off that you didn’t.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Jim spat. “You aren’t haunted by that monster every single day!”

“No, I’m haunted by something far worse,” Dan whispered. “Something that I can never undo.”

Jim’s forehead creased in puzzlement. “What’re you talking about?”

Dan shook his head vigorously. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

“Talk about what?” Jim prodded.

“Don’t you understand?” Desperation laced Dan’s words. “You’ll hate me if I tell you!”

“What could be worse than me wanting to kill my stepfather?” Jim demanded.

“What could be worse?” Dan echoed. Visibly disturbed, the veins in his forehead bulged. “What could be worse?!”

Just as temperamental as Dan, Jim’s hackles raised. Rage bubbled up in him like lava. The fiery redhead was angry with his friend as well as himself. However, he fumed at their situations as he yelled, “Yeah, what could be worse than wanting to kill your stepfather?”

“Actually killing him!” The words were out before Dan could stop them. His entire body trembled violently, and his heart pounded so loudly in his chest that he worried it would register as a seismic anomaly on the Richter scale. Unable to sit still, he jumped up and walked over to the edge of the porch and gazed out unseeingly at the tranquil woods surrounding the cabin. In a voice barely able to be heard, he declared, “I killed my stepfather, Jim.”

It took a few moments for Dan’s statement to register in Jim’s brain. Even then, it still didn’t seem real. “What did you say?”

“I killed my stepfather.” The more he repeated it, the easier it was for Dan to say. “I shot him, and he died.”

“Dear God,” Jim muttered. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. “I didn’t even know you had a stepfather.”

Dan nodded somberly. “I did. Until I killed him, that is. That’s why I’m not supposed to mention him. Uncle Bill thought it would be best if I didn’t tell anyone.”

Jim stalled for several seconds in an attempt to gather his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was amazingly calm. “What happened?”

Dan closed his eyes. It struck him that although the most minute details of that day’s events were firmly etched in his mind, he had never actually related the specifics to anyone other than his lawyer. Hoping it would help ease the pain, he decided to share the entire gruesome account with Jim. Sighing heavily, he reclaimed his seat and prepared to share the events that had preceded his move to Sleepyside.

“Dad, my real dad, that is, was in the military, so we moved around a lot to different bases,” he explained in a wavering voice. “We didn’t have much, but it didn’t matter. We were happy just being together. Ma and Dad really loved each other, and they really loved me.”

Jim nodded. Dan’s family reminded him of his own.

“When I was little,” Dan continued, “my favorite thing in the whole world was listening to Dad play his guitar. I’d always beg Ma to sing me a song. She may not have been a very good cook, but she sang like an angel.”

Jim smiled. “That’s a nice memory.”

“Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I pretend I hear her voice singing along as Dad strums his guitar.” Dan’s expression grew wistful. “Dad was assigned overseas, and he had to leave us behind in the States. Ma cried and cried. I think she knew that she would never see him again when she kissed him goodbye. I’ll never forget the look on Ma’s face when they told her Dad had been killed in an accident. I think a part of her died that day.”

“Yeah, that’s how my mom was after Dad’s death,” Jim remarked sadly.

“We moved to New York City, and Ma found work cleaning houses.” Dan shook his head with regret. “She worked her fingers to the bone to make ends meet. When she’d lay her hand on my cheek, I could feel the calluses she’d gotten from scrubbing floors and bathtubs. One night I remember asking her what the bumps on her hands were. She told me they were ‘love spots’, and that she’d gotten them because she loved me so much.”

A lump rose in Jim’s throat making it difficult to speak, so he just smiled.

“Times were rough,” Dan commented. “Ma was too proud to ask for help from the government, so I remember practically living on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. There were even a few nights when Ma didn’t eat any dinner at all. She told me she’d already eaten, but I knew she was just saving the last slice of bread for me.

“When I got older, I was able to help out some,” he continued. “I did odd jobs for the people in our apartment building to earn a little extra money. Our landlord was a nice old guy, and he’d let me help him with small repairs. I don’t really think I was much help; he just felt sorry for me and Ma, and wanted to help us out.”

“Maybe he saw how much you wanted to ease your mother’s burden,” Jim commented.

“That’s probably it.” Dan sighed loudly. “Unfortunately, after I started doing these odd jobs, Ma had more time on her hands, and she began hanging out at bars. She never spent any of our money there; she didn’t have to. She was so pretty that men were always willing to buy her a drink. I think she liked the attention more than she liked the booze.”

“Probably so.”

A frown marred Dan’s features. “Ma had never been a big drinker, but there were a few nights she came home tipsy. Of course, that was better than the nights she’d come home with some strange guy. Looking back, I think she was just trying to get over Dad. Too bad she went about it in such a lousy way.”

Jim nodded sympathetically.

“Still, Ma was good to me. Her first priority was always making sure that I had food to eat and clothes on my back. I don’t have any doubt that she loved me. No matter how many creeps she went out with, she always said that I was the most important man in her life. She waited until I was in bed to head out to the bar.

“That’s where she met Steve,” Dan continued. “He was okay at first. Ma seemed crazy about him, and he was nice enough to me. Most of Ma’s boyfriends pretended I didn’t exist, which was fine with me. But Steve would take me to ballgames and do guy things with me. I think that’s why Ma fell for him so hard.”

Jim rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Yeah, the way to a single woman’s heart is through her kids. Too bad there’re a lot of creeps who know that and put on a show.”

“To be honest, I don’t think Steve was putting on a show,” Dan observed. “He was a decent guy, until he and Ma started drinking too much, that is. Ma knew when she’d had enough, but Steve didn’t. By the time they were married, he was a full-fledged drunk. And worse than that, he was a mean drunk. After he’d had one too many, he’d go from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde.”

“Did he hurt you?”

Dan shook his head. “Not me.” He closed his eyes tightly. “He hurt Ma. But I wish it would’ve been me instead.”

Although Jim had nearly been beaten to death on a few occasions, he couldn’t disagree. As bad as it had been to bear the brunt of Jonesy’s rage, it would’ve been far worse if his stepfather had beaten his mother instead of him.

“Every night ended in a screaming match,” Dan recalled sadly. “They’d come back from a bar, he’d accuse her of flirting with some guy, she’d deny it, and he’d black her eye. I tried to stop him, but that just seemed to make it worse. Since I couldn’t do anything to help, I bailed so I wouldn’t have to listen. Steve’s nephew hung out on our street, so I started spending more time with him instead of going home.”

Jim gasped. “Are you talking about Luke?”

“Yeah.” Dan scowled as he said the name of his former friend. Jim wasn’t the only one with scars; Luke had wounded Dan plenty of times, both emotionally and physically.

“Steve was the one who introduced us,” he continued. “I didn’t know Luke was in a gang until we were already tight. It didn’t take long until I was a member of the Cowhands. I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of. At the time I was so mad at the world that I didn’t care what I did or who I hurt, but now it really bothers me.”

“We’ve all done things we’re ashamed of,” Jim said in an attempt to console his friend.

Dan’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he shook his head in disagreement. “I’m pretty sure I’ve done a lot worse things than you, Jim. And believe me, I’m not bragging when I say that.”

Jim didn’t bother patronizing Dan by pretending he’d had a crime-filled past, and Dan appreciated that. Instead, Jim asked, “So, what happened with your stepfather?”

Dan inhaled deeply, and then slowly released that breath as he gathered his thoughts. “A few months before it happened, I got arrested for using drugs. The look on Ma’s face when the cops brought me home broke my heart. It was the first time she ever looked disappointed in me. After I got out of juvie, I was trying to straighten up, but it was hard with Luke hanging around. I told him I didn’t want to sell drugs or steal anymore, but he warned me that I had to earn my keep.

“Once you join a gang, you’re their property. It’s not easy to get out. Luke made all kinds of threats, but I stood my ground…”

“I mean it, Luke,” Dan had said. “I’m through.”

Luke stared contemptuously at Dan through narrowed eyes. He took a final drag from his cigarette, and then dropped it to the ground. He stared holes in the younger boy as he crushed the Winston with the toe of his cowboy boot. “You’re through when I say you’re through, Danny. I made you, and I can break you.”

Dan lifted his chin with defiance. “You can’t make me do anything.”

“Watch me.” Luke’s eyes were cold as ice. For a moment, Dan wondered if he even had a soul.

Sensing he wasn’t getting anywhere with threats, Luke tried a more brotherly approach. He wrapped an arm around Dan’s shoulders. “Danny Boy, you’re the best dealer we got. Nobody sells more smack than you. If you bail on us, it’s really gonna cut into our profits.”

“Sorry, Luke, but nothing you say is going to change my mind,” Dan said firmly. “I told Ma that she didn’t have to worry about me anymore, and I meant what I said. I’m going to make her proud.”

“Sure you are,” Luke responded, his tone cynical. “I give you a week or two, and then you’ll be back. You need us, Danny.”

Dan angrily shoved Luke away. “I don’t need anybody!” With that, he turned on his heel and walked up the steps of his apartment building.

The dark, dirty hallways of their building would never be mistaken for the Plaza. However, Dan was anxious to return to his apartment. It was small and shabby, but his mother was there, and it was home. He was hoping that Steve was on a beer-run so he could talk to his mom alone. Much to his disappointment, he heard his stepfather screaming as soon as he opened the door from the stairwell to the second floor. The yelling got worse as he walked down the hall. Cursing softly, Dan went inside the apartment, bracing himself for another knock-down drag-out brawl.

If he lived a hundred years, he would never, ever forget what he saw when he opened that door.

“Ma!” Dan’s heart stopped as he stood in place, frozen with fear.

His stepfather, still shouting obscenities, stood over his mother, his fingers wrapped tightly around her slender neck. He was choking her with such force that he’d lifted her off the floor. Her limp body dangled like a rag doll.

“Let go of her now!” Dan commanded, venom dripping from his words.

Steve looked up and saw Dan, releasing his grip on Erin’s neck slightly. “Get outta here, kid,” he panted. “This is between me and your ma.”

“You’re going to kill her,” Dan said through clenched teeth. “Let her go before I hurt you.”

Steve’s laugh was scornful. “You? Hurt me? Get outta here, Danny. Me and your ma ain’t done talking yet.”

The fingers of his mother’s right hand moved slightly. Dan still had time to save her. His mind racing and his heart pounding, he raced into his bedroom and pulled out his father’s pistol. He’d taken it from his mother’s closet after he’d joined the Cowhands. He had used it once during a robbery, but thankfully he’d never actually fired it. His hands were trembling so violently that he wondered if he would even be able to pull the trigger. Weapon in hand, he ran back to the living room.

Dan pointed the gun at his stepfather. “Let go of her before I kill you!”

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can play with the big boys, kid,” Steve warned with a sneer. “You’ll just get hurt.”

“You’re the one who’s gonna get hurt,” Dan threatened. He took several steps until he was only a few feet from them. He shook the gun in a menacing fashion, and then hissed, “Get out of here now before I shoot you!”

His mother’s body thudded to the floor. Eyes blazing, Steve lunged towards Dan. “I’m sick of your mouth, punk! It’s time to shut you up!” he cried as he grabbed Dan by the arm.

“Let go of me!” Dan thrashed around, trying to force his stepfather to release him. “I need to check on Ma!”

The alcohol in his system had transformed Steve Michelson into a monster, a monster bent on destroying anyone who defied him. Dan was stronger than he looked, and his stepfather had to fight fiercely to overpower him. Steve kept trying to grab the gun, but somehow Dan managed to keep it from him. His steps unsteady, the bigger man stumbled backwards, taking Dan with him. The pair landed on a rickety old coffee table, which busted under their combined weight.

Dan got up first. Still on his hands and knees, he scrambled towards his mother’s body. He yelped as he felt someone grab him by the ankle and drag him across the worn shag carpet. He crossed his arms, making sure to keep the hand holding the gun protected. He looked up and saw Steve leering down at him, his eyes full of hate.

“Give me the gun, you little prick!” he spat as he knelt over the teenager.

Dan tried to use his knee to put some space between him and his attacker, but it was no use. Not only was his stepfather much bigger and stronger, he had more experience fighting. He merely pushed Dan’s knee away and wrapped his fingers around the boy’s throat.

Dan panicked as he felt the vise grip on this throat. Steve kept squeezing tighter and tighter, no matter how hard Dan kicked. Everything around him grew hazy. Knowing he was his mother’s only hope, Dan struggled for a gasp of oxygen. Somehow, he had to push his stepfather off of him. Mustering all his strength, he wedged his hands under Steve’s chest. He kept the pistol in his hand to keep it safe. Blackness began to envelope him. Just as he was ready to give up, he swore he heard his mother’s voice.

“You can’t let him win, son. Live, Danny! Live for me…”

With a strength he didn’t know he possessed, Dan came out of the darkness long enough to give one final push. He vaguely heard what seemed like a loud bang, and a second later, he felt Steve’s grip loosen. Using what was left of his waning power, he shoved his stepfather off of him. He lay there for several seconds, welcoming several precious gasps of air into his oxygen-starved lungs.

Although he was exhausted and weak, Dan’s adrenaline kicked in as he remembered his mother. He glanced over warily at Steve, but his stepfather was slumped on his side, his back to Dan.

Dan crawled over to where his mother lay, allowing the gun to drop on the floor. “Ma?” he squeaked through a constricted throat. “I’m here, Ma. Your Danny Boy’s here.”

Dan wasn’t one to cry, but his eyes filled with tears as he took in his mother’s crumpled form. Her red hair flowed around her shoulders, the bright auburn in sharp contrast to the beige carpet. Her porcelain complexion, typical of natural redheads, appeared paler than normal. Her celery-green eyes, usually sparkling with merriment, didn’t seem to see Dan as he knelt in front of her. Her full lips had lost their pink color and had turned blue. But what worried Dan most was the angry red marks on her neck.

“Ma?” Dan reached out a tenuous hand and touched her arm. Spooked by how limp it was, he grabbed the sleeve of her shirt and began tugging. “Wake up, Ma. Wake up!”

Sobbing, he knelt over her. Just like he’d learned in health class, he began to do CPR in hopes of reviving her. Ignoring how cold her skin felt, he did his best to pump oxygen into her slender body.

“Breathe, Ma, breathe!” he hollered. He repeated his actions, but it soon became clear that it was a lost cause.

Erin Mangan was dead.

“No!” Dan screamed. He clutched a fistful of dark hair as he looked up to Heaven. “Please don’t take her from me! Please! She’s all I have left!” He leaned down and grabbed her by her shoulders. After brushing back a strand of red hair, he tenderly kissed her forehead. He bawled like a baby as he gently shook her, praying that she’d only been sleeping and would wake up.

Unfortunately, death had claimed its victim, and no kiss could awaken this sleeping beauty.

“No, no, no!” He clutched his mother’s head to his chest, crying as he rocked her back and forth. As his mother had done years ago when she rocked him to sleep, he cradled her in his arms as he swayed back and forth. Through his tears, he sang her favorite hymn. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me…”

He didn’t even notice when the police burst through the door. Numb to the rest of the world, he just kept rocking and singing, his dark eyes glazed over with shock. One of the cops was leaning down to see if his stepfather was still breathing.

“This one’s gone,” Dan vaguely heard the officer say.

“And this is probably what did it.” Another policeman carefully bagged the pistol. Dan wanted to protest, but he merely continued his song.

“Well, if it isn’t the Cowhands’ number one dealer.”

Dan’s eyes slowly shifted to the owner of the voice. In spite of his state of shock, he recognized him as the officer who’d arrested him for drug possession.

“What’d you do now, punk?” the cop asked harshly. He reached out to feel Erin’s pulse, but Dan swatted him away.

“Leave her alone!” Dan screamed, clutching her tighter.

It took two policemen to separate Dan from his mother. He fought like a wild man, struggling to be reunited with her. But it was no use. He was too weak. He watched helplessly as a third cop felt his mother’s throat for a pulse.

“This one’s gone, too.”

Although Dan had already known that his mother was dead, hearing it out loud made him lose control. Sobbing hysterically, he broke one arm loose and reached out to his mother.

“Noooooo!!!”

Dan hastily wiped away a tear before Jim saw. “I didn’t mean to shoot him,” he said. “I just wanted to get him off of me so I could help Ma.”

Knowing there weren’t any words that could comfort his friend, Jim merely reached out a freckled hand and placed it on Dan’s shoulder.

“The bullet killed him instantly,” Dan continued. “It was too late for Ma, though. She was already gone.”

Dan had no need to worry about Jim seeing him cry. The husky redhead had several tears of his own streaming down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, my friend. At least you did all you could to save her.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dan said with a shrug.

“What happened after that?”

“They dragged me to the police station,” Dan snorted. “The cop who’d arrested me before had some kind of a grudge against me. I can’t blame him, considering I was a drug dealer. There wasn’t any way for him to know that I’d gone straight. Anyway, he was out on a mission to lock me up again. Only this time, he wanted the DA to throw away the key.”

“But didn’t you kill your stepfather in self-defense?”

“Yeah, but that moron of a public defender that was assigned to me was too dumb to prove it.” Dan shook his head in disbelief. “Honestly, I think I would’ve made out better if Bobby Belden had represented me.”

Jim couldn’t help but chuckle. “So, did they put you in jail?”

“They sent me back to juvenile hall,” Dan answered. “In spite of how bad that cop tried to make me look, Judge Armen felt sorry for me. He let me plea bargain down to involuntary manslaughter. I served eighteen months in the maximum-security wing. The judge let me out a year and a half early for good behavior.”

“That’s when Regan took you in?”

“No, that’s when Mr. Maypenny took me in,” Dan corrected sharply.

Jim’s ginger eyebrows knotted in the middle of his forehead. “Yeah, but Regan is your legal guardian.”

“Technically, I guess, although Mr. Maypenny has custody of me.”

Sensing this was a sore spot with Dan, Jim changed the subject. “If you ask me, you got a raw deal. I’ll bet Dad could hire a real lawyer who could get you exonerated.”

“What’s the point?” Dan asked with a sneer. “I already served my time.”

“But wouldn’t you like to have a clean record?”

Dan’s expression clouded over. “I guess so. I mean, it might sound silly, but… Never mind.”

“What?” Jim prompted.

“No, it’s crazy.”

“It won’t be crazier than some of the things I’ve heard from Trixie.” Jim grinned over at him. “Tell me.”

Dan stared wordlessly at Jim for several seconds, trying to decide if he should tell Jim or keep his ambition to himself. “You‘ll probably think I‘m nuts, but I’d like to be a cop,” he finally said quietly. “It might help me keep guys like Michelson from hurting women like Ma.”

“That’s not crazy at all. That’s a great idea, Dan!”

“Yeah, but I don’t think they’ll let me be a cop with my record.”

“If you were charged as a minor, your juvenile records could be sealed,” Jim explained. “And if you weren’t… Well, I’m sure Dad could help. He’s got a lot of connections.”

Dan grinned. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am,” Jim answered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, if I’m not mistaken, you just suggested that your old man could use his influence to ’fix’ my record. That doesn’t sound like something you’d approve of.”

Jim grinned back at him. “Usually that’d be true, but in this case, I’m willing to make an exception. For the sake of justice, I don’t think there’d be anything wrong with asking Dad to pull some strings. After all, you were only protecting yourself and trying to save your mother.”

“Well, it looks like I’m gonna be a cop someday.” Dan’s smile seemed to light up his whole face. “So, I’m going to be a police officer, you’re going to open your school, Brian’s going to be a doctor…”

“Trixie and Honey are going to open a detective agency,” Jim continued, “Mart’s going to be a farmer, and Di…” He paused, trying to remember what occupation Diana had chosen that particular week; she tended to change her mind frequently. “Di’s…”

“Going to be Mrs. Mart Belden,” Dan interjected with a chuckle. “That is, if Mart has his way.”

Jim hooted with laughter.

Once the laughter had subsided, Dan glanced over at his friend. “I guess Brian and Mart are still going to help you in your school, huh?”

“As far as I know.”

Dan nodded quietly. It looked like something was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t say anything for several seconds. “You probably wouldn’t want a guy like me helping in your school,” he remarked.

“What gave you a crazy idea like that?” Jim demanded.

“Well, I just doubt you’d want a murderer helping kids,” Dan admitted.

“You’re not a murderer,” Jim corrected. “You’re a hero. You risked your life to save your mother’s.”

Dan gawked at his friend, wonder in his eyes. “You really think I’m a hero?”

“Of course!” Jim asserted. “You tried to save your mom. That makes you a hero, in my book. I would’ve shot Jonesy in a second to help my mother.”

That statement caused Dan to sit a little straighter.

Jim patted his friend’s shoulder. “There’ll always be room for you to help out at my school. Anytime you could spare a moment from fighting crime, you’d be welcome. My students would be lucky to have you as an example.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Dan whispered, emotion stealing his voice.

“No problem.” It was quiet for a few seconds, and then Jim asked, “How’d you get yours?”

“How did I get my what?”

Jim pointed to Dan’s mouth. “The scar on your lip.”

“It’s gang related,” was Dan’s cryptic response.

“Did you get it in a fight?”

“Jim, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

“I understand,” Jim murmured. “But I’m here if you ever need to vent.”

“I appreciate that.”

The boys rested in companionable silence. Several minutes had passed when Dan cocked his head pensively to one side and studied his redheaded friend. “You know, we have a lot in common.”

“Yeah, we do.”

Dan snorted. “How in the world did two stray mutts like us get hooked up with the Cleavers, the Nelsons, and the Bradys?”

“Who knows?” Jim answered with a chuckle. “I have to admit, until you got here, I felt like a duck out of water.”

“What do you mean?”

Jim shrugged. “Well, all my friends had these perfect families, and there I was, some homeless orphan whose stepfather had almost beaten him to death and then tried to murder him in a fire. Nobody could really understand why I wasn’t more excited about living in a mansion with my new rich family. I wouldn’t mind living in a cardboard box if my folks could still be alive.”

“I heard that,” Dan agreed.

“You know, I even overheard some kids at school saying I was lucky my parents had died so I could be adopted by the Wheelers.” Jim rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Can you believe that?”

Dan shook his head in disbelief. “Whoever said that obviously didn’t know what they were talking about.”

“Kids don’t realize how lucky they are to have two parents who love them,” Jim remarked. “Don’t get me wrong; no family’s perfect. I know the Wheelers used to be really dysfunctional, and before Mr. Lynch struck it rich, Diana’s family was living hand to mouth. Although the Belden kids sometimes complain about not having very much money or having to do chores, they probably have it the best of anyone.”

“You got that right. I sure wouldn’t mind if they adopted me. Think Trixie would mind having another brother?”

“You could always ask,” Jim suggested with a wink.

“Hey, maybe they’ll take us both in.”

Jim’s cheeks turned a little pink. “Well… I’m happy with the Wheelers.”

“I don’t guess that has anything to do with the fact that you don’t want to be Trixie’s brother,” Dan commented, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

This time, Jim turned beet red from the top of his hairline to all the way down his neck. “Gosh, I don’t know why you’d say something like that, Dan.”

Dan gave a boisterous snort. “Oh, c’mon, Frayne. I don’t know who you think you’re kidding. Everyone in the whole town knows you’re crazy about Trixie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jim insisted. He jutted out his chin in a stubborn manner. “Trixie and I are just friends.”

“You’re a better man than me,” Dan said offhandedly, purposely trying to draw the redhead’s ire. “Trixie’s awfully pretty, and I couldn’t blame you for wanting to be more than friends with her.”

Jim’s crimson cheeks paled instantly. “You think Trixie’s pretty?”

“Well, yeah…”

“You don’t want to be more than just her friend… do you?” Jim inquired through a constricted throat.

Dan was tempted to lie and say that he did, just to see Jim’s reaction. However, having already seen Jim’s temper and considering there was a maul within Jim’s reach, Dan decided that wouldn’t be the smartest thing for him to do.

“No, not really,” he answered honestly. He flashed his friend a devilish grin. “As great a girl as Trixie is, I don’t think I’d have the patience to be her boyfriend. One of us would kill the other.”

Jim breathed an audible sigh of relief.

“Besides,” Dan continued, “nothing’s worth risking my friendship with you. Because no matter how you deny it, I know you’ve got the Indian sign on her, so as far as I’m concerned, that makes her off-limits. Same goes for Honey and Di. I respect you, Brian, and Mart way too much to stab you in the back like that. You’re the first real friends I’ve ever had, besides my dad, and I don’t take that lightly.”

“You’d put our friendship ahead of a girl?” Jim’s jaw dropped. Deep down he knew he would never let anything or anybody come between him and Trixie. She was his world, and without her, life had no meaning.

“Well, of course I would!” Dan looked surprised that Jim even had to ask. “Girls come and go, but friendship is forever.”

Jim nodded in admiration, although not necessarily agreement.

“Besides,” Dan added, “it’s not like Trixie, Honey, and Di are the only fish in the sea. Sleepyside’s full of pretty girls. And if the fishing gets bad here, Croton isn’t that far away…”

“Well, I hope you catch a real prize,” Jim said, chuckling. “And thanks.”

“For what?”

Jim shrugged. “For being a true friend.”

“Hey, I’m a Bob-White,” Dan pointed out. “Isn’t being a true friend one of the requirements for being part of this club?”

“Well, the older we get, I think that sounds better than us all being brothers and sisters, if you know what I mean,” Jim said with a wink.

Dan held up a hand. “Say no more, Frayne. As far as I’m concerned, one sister is enough for you. You’re free to think of Trixie in non-sisterly ways. And I won’t even tell Brian.”

“You’re a prince.”

“As are you, my good man.” Dan smiled thoughtfully. “Seriously, I’m happy for you, Jim. Mr. and Mrs. W really love you, and Honey thinks you walk on water.”

“I’ve really been blessed.” Jim grinned as he tipped his head toward the cabin. “You don’t have it too bad yourself. Mr. Maypenny seems awfully fond of you.”

“He’s the best,” Dan declared loyally. Suddenly, his expression grew wistful. “I only wish I had a brother or sister. It gets kind of lonely out here by myself.”

“I’m lucky to have Honey,” Jim remarked. “It’s hard to be lonely whenever she’s around.”

“Yeah, she’s a talker, all right.” Although Dan was joking, his eyes still looked sad.

Jim studied his friend. He saw so much of himself in Dan that it was scary. He didn’t think anyone would ever be able to understand him so well. In some ways, although Dan was his newest friend, Jim didn’t think a single person in Sleepyside understood him better. The suffering they’d endured formed a tighter bond between them than one could find in a science lab when studying molecules forms by a chemical reaction. Their tumultuous pasts had caused their broken hearts to be knit together as one. Having come to that realization, Jim drew a deep breath.

“You may think it sounds stupid, but I have an idea,” he said softly.

“What?”

“Well,” Jim began, “although I have a sister, I don’t have a brother, and I’ve always wanted one.”

Dan narrowed his eyes as he looked over at Jim with a smirk. “The Wheelers are nice and all, but I don’t think I’d want them to adopt me.”

“We don’t have to share the same parents to be brothers,” Jim pointed out.

“It helps.”

Jim exhaled noisily to show his impatience. “I’ve told you things today that I’d never be able to tell Honey. For the first time, I feel like somebody understands me. I mean, really understands me.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Dan murmured.

“Although we aren’t related,” Jim began, “we have a bond that’s deeper than the roots of any family tree.”

“You’re right,” Dan agreed softly.

“Brian’s my best friend, but he’d never be able to understand me the way you can.”

Dan nodded. “Same with Mart.”

“With the bond we have, we’re like… blood brothers,” Jim remarked hesitantly, almost as if he were afraid of being rejected.

He needn’t have worried. Dan’s face brightened at the suggestion. “Blood brothers,” he repeated. He looked at Jim and nodded in affirmation. “Blood brothers of suffering.”

“Yeah.”

Dan furrowed his brow in a quizzical manner. “Should we cut our hands and mix our blood or something? I’d rather not…”

“Nah, I think we’ve both seen enough bloodshed for a hundred lifetimes.”

“You’ve got a point there.”

“Maybe we can just make a pact instead,” Jim offered. “How about we promise to always be there for each other?”

“Sounds good to me,” Dan answered. “Night or day…”

“No matter how dark our memories are…”

“Or how often the demons howl…” Dan added.

“When nobody else could possibly understand…”

“And because we wouldn’t want them to even try…”

“We’ll always be there to help each other out when our past haunts us,” Jim summarized.

“Blood brothers?” Dan’s statement was more of an invitation than a question.

“Blood brothers,” Jim agreed.

To make it official, the two shook on it. After their pact was made, the boys sat quietly. Neither was sure what to say next.

It was Dan who spoke first. “I’m really glad you stopped by. I don’t want you to think I’ve been watching the Lifetime Channel, but it kinda felt good to share it with someone. I’ve never really had the chance to tell anyone what’d happened.”

Jim’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Not even Regan?”

“Especially not Uncle Bill.”

Although Jim was curious why Dan had never shared this story with his mother’s brother, he didn’t want to pry.

“I feel a lot better now that I’ve told you,” Dan continued. “It helps to know that you don’t think I’m a psycho or something.”

“I’m here anytime you need to talk.”

“Same here,” Dan offered. “Hey, Jim? Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

Dan‘s dark eyes pleaded his cause. “Don’t tell anyone about what happened. Uncle Bill would kill me if he found out I told you.”

“I won’t say a word,” Jim promised.

“Not even to Trixie,” Dan cautioned. However, he thought, Especially not to Trixie…

Jim scowled in indignation. “What makes you think I’d tell Trixie?”

Dan nearly snorted, but somehow restrained himself. He couldn’t help but wonder if Jim would ever admit his feelings for the curly-haired blonde. Not wanting to meddle, he merely said, “Well, I just know how good she is at digging up dirt.”

That answer seemed to appease Jim. “To answer your question, yes, I promise to never tell Trixie.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate that. If Uncle Bill found out, he’d send me away in a heartbeat.”

“He would not,” Jim scoffed.

“You obviously don’t him very well.”

It was on the tip of Jim’s tongue to point out that he’d known William Regan longer than Dan had, but he decided that wouldn’t be wise to rub it in. “Well, I know I’m not his nephew, but I’ve spent some time with him. I can’t see him ever sending you away. He’s a lot happier now that you’re here.”

Dan snickered. “Yeah, he’s happy I’m here, all right. So happy that he pawns me off on some old codger in the middle of the woods.”

“I’m sure he did what he thought was best for you. Besides, I thought you were happy with Mr. Maypenny.”

“I am,” Dan answered, “but I’d still like to see my uncle once in a while.”

“Don’t you spend time with him?” Jim asked.

“Sometimes he lets me visit him at the stables so we can muck out the stalls together,” Dan replied with feigned excitement. “And if I’m really lucky, he’ll feel the need to stop at Maypenny’s so he can lecture me about something.”

Jim frowned. “Don’t you two ever just talk?”

“Sure, I talk, but Uncle Bill’s specialty is bawling me out,” Dan retorted. He noticed the doubtful expression on Jim’s face. “Don’t you believe me?”

“Well, I don’t think you’d have any reason to lie,” Jim said, shrugging. “I guess I’m just surprised that you two don’t talk more. After all, you are family.”

“Why should that surprise you?” Dan countered. “Uncle Bill doesn’t talk to anyone but those stupid horses.”

“He talks to me a lot…” The words were out of his mouth before Jim could stop them.

“Then he must only have a problem with me,” Dan blustered. Though he was pretending to be tough, he was obviously hurt.

“Dan, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault my uncle hates me.” Dan crossed his arms in front of him, as if that would protect him from what he thought to be the truth. “He hasn’t liked me since the moment he saw me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Jim argued. “He just doesn’t know you.”

“He’s never tried to get to know me.”

Jim groaned inwardly, berating himself for letting things go in this direction. “Listen, Dan. Regan’s a nice guy and all, but he has his quirks. Believe me, it took us a while to get chummy. He’s really private, almost like he’s afraid of getting to know people.”

Dan nodded as he considered Jim’s words. After a few moments, he asked quietly, “Jim, what’s Uncle Bill really like?”

“Shouldn’t you be finding out for yourself?”

“I’ve tried, but…” Dan paused, and then added, “Maybe if you tell me something about him, it’ll give me a place to start.”

Jim took a deep breath. At first he was going to insist that Dan talk to Regan himself, but he decided to answer the question. “Well, he rides better than anyone I’ve ever seen. He can make even the most stubborn horse obey every command. He let it slip once that he used to work with racehorses, but when I asked him about it, he told me to forget he’d ever mentioned it.”

“What does he like besides horses?” Dan inquired. “Does he have any hobbies or anything?”

“He likes wrestling,” Jim answered. “He and Miss Trask used to watch the matches on television.”

“No way!” Dan snorted. “I mean, I can see Uncle Bill getting into wrestling, but Miss Trask?”

“Strange but true,” Jim said with a chuckle.

“Well, what else does he like?”

Jim quirked a single eyebrow in query. “Why’re you asking?”

“If I know what his interests are, maybe it’ll help me talk to him.”

“Fair enough.” Jim scratched his chin as he tried to think of anything else Regan liked to do in his spare time. “He likes John Wayne movies.”

“Huh, big surprise there.”

Jim grinned, but didn’t say anything. “He’s also a Clint Eastwood fan.”

“Like I expected him to be into Judy Garland movies.”

“I’m not sure, but I think he dated a girl named Joan for a while,” Jim remarked. “But he got mad when Trixie bugged him about it, so I wouldn’t ask about her if I were you.”

“Well now, that is a surprise,” Dan drawled out slowly. “The way Uncle Bill holes up in that barn all the time, I wondered if he even liked girls.”

Jim grinned. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I know for a fact that he used to check out Celia before she and Tom got married.”

“Can’t say that I blame him there,” Dan commented with a devilish waggle of his brows. “Besides, I didn’t think he was gay; I just thought he was asexual.”

“And most important of all, he’s really funny when you get to know him. He has a dry sense of humor.” Jim paused, and then added dramatically, “Just like his nephew.”

Dan almost looked pleased by the comparison. However, he immediately shrugged it off. “Aw, me and Uncle Bill don’t have anything in common,” he muttered.

“That’s not true,” Jim disagreed.

“All right, Mr. Smarty Pants,” Dan teased. He lifted his chin in challenge. “Name just one thing.”

“You both loved your mother,” was Jim’s quiet response.

“Well, I can’t argue with you there,” Dan said with a sad smile.

“Not only that,” Jim added, “she loved both of you.”

“What’s your point?”

Jim shrugged. “Don’t you think you two could try to find some common ground, for your mother’s sake?”

“I can’t force him to talk to me!”

“No, but you could keep trying instead of just giving up.”

Dan shook his head sadly. “You don’t know how stubborn Uncle Bill is.”

“Don’t you have that same stubborn streak?” Jim asked lightly.

“Whew,” Dan muttered. “Apparently you do. You aren’t going to give up, are you?”

Jim flashed him a broad grin. “Nope.”

“I shouldn’t have agreed to this blood brother stuff so quickly,” Dan remarked. “You’re a real pain in the butt.”

“Thanks!” Jim answered, looking quite pleased with himself. He chuckled as Dan rolled his eyes at him. “Seriously, I just want to help.”

“I know, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be close to Uncle Bill. I don’t think it’s possible.”

“You know, Regan’s not too different from us.” Jim carefully watched Dan’s reaction. “He lost both his parents when he was even younger than us. He had to grow up in an orphanage, until he finally ran away. He hasn’t told me much about that part of his life, but I know he had it rough.”

“Ma told me how bad it was growing up in that orphanage,” Dan said quietly.

“If you think about it, Regan could be a blood brother, too.”

Dan snorted loudly. “How’s he supposed to comfort me when he can’t even have a civil conversation with me?”

Jim ignored that question for now. “Regan’s suffered a lot longer than we have. Not only that, he never found a family to love him like we have. In a lot of ways, he had it even worse than either of us.”

“So?”

“These tragedies affect us all differently,” Jim explained. “My parents’ deaths really screwed me up, and Jonesy’s abuse sure didn’t help me any. I have issues out the wazoo, which is why I wanted to give you a chance when you first came to town. I could tell under that tough-guy act you weren’t that bad. You just acted like a jerk because you’d had it rough.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Well, I figured there had to be some reason your parents weren’t around,” Jim told him. “No matter what that reason was, it had to be bad. I always thought that bad boy image was just a front, and deep down, you were afraid of something. After all, fear is the basis of most issues.”

Dan huffed impatiently. “Is there a point to this analysis, Dr. Freud?”

“Maybe Regan’s afraid of something,” Jim offered.

“Afraid of what?”

“I don’t know,” Jim said with a shrug. “Maybe he’s been alone for so long that he’s afraid to get close to anyone for fear of losing them.”

“Maybe,” Dan murmured.

“Anyway, just don’t give up on him yet. I’m sure he’ll open up eventually.” After a peek at his watch, Jim hopped up. “If we’re going to make that movie, we’d better chop the rest of that wood.”

“Yeah,” Dan mumbled. His body followed Jim to the woodpile, but his mind was elsewhere. He had a lot to think about, starting with how he could reconcile with his uncle.

If that was even possible.

Credits:

Thank you to my amazing editors, Ryl and Claire. You both added so much to this story. You rock!!!

The mention of Dan always chopping wood is a reference to my “Wood-Chopping 101” trilogy.

Indeed there are fire-powered generators. I found that out during my research, and since I’d mentioned their existence in a previous story, I was relieved that such a thing had been invented.

Curious about Dan’s scars? I hope so! A story called “Branded” will explain them, as well as provide more info about Luke. Check the link above; it may work and it may not. It depends upon when I get that story finished and loaded.

So now you know my position on the Trixie, Jim, and Dan triangle. This is my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.

The Cleavers, Nelsons, and Bradys are three families featured on old TV shows, who were all seemingly perfect. You can watch them on “Leave it to Beaver”, “Ozzie and Harriet”, and “The Brady Bunch”.

Do I think Jim’s and Dan’s demons would howl frequently? Yes. As rough a past as they have endured, it would be impossible for them to live an issue-free life.

The Lifetime Channel is a channel with programming geared mainly for women. My husband freaks if he finds out he has accidentally watched something on there. And I about died laughing when Claire said in her notes that her husband just calls it “Lifetime”, because it’s so offensive that it doesn’t even deserve to be called a channel. ROTF!!!

Oh, those stubborn Regans/Mangans! Dan and Bill were supposed to reconcile in this story, but once again, they resisted. Personally, I think they just wanted more airtime. *wink*