While waiting for the boys to figure out the difference between flowers and weeds, something they’d been shown a million times, Frank scrolled through his texts. There was the one he’d sent up to the house just before lunch. Reporter needs to have the talk. She okay? and then his father’s response. Yes. You can trust her. He never would have proceeded without the go-ahead.
Telling Lani about their family legacy had been awkward at best. He’d never shared it with anyone before, and in fact, these days it seemed that they only shared it with people who were about to join their family. The thought brought him up short. Was Lani meant to marry into the clan? Was that why his father gave his approval for her to know?
He was about to text his father back and ask him for more information about the girl when a new text came in. It was from Adam. 911 barn.
“Gotta go,” Frank shouted to Gideon, who nodded. It wasn’t at all uncommon for Frank to get called away in the middle of something, and Gideon would call in one of the wives to help out so they’d always have two adults with each set of boys. Frank took off at a dead run for the barn. Adam only used the 911 code when it really was an emergency, but why the barn? He was talking with Nick back at the cabin, wasn’t he?
Frank was out of breath when he entered the barn and saw Adam sitting just inside on a hay bale, tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked up and met Frank’s gaze. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” he said, his voice thick.
Oh, wow. Adam never broke down—something had happened. Frank grabbed another hay bale and pulled it over, sitting across from his brother so their knees touched. The sorrow and the pain that radiated off Adam’s soul pierced right through Frank, and he had to brace his feet on the floor so he wouldn’t get knocked over from the sheer power of it. “What happened?” he asked. He could guess, but Adam needed to verbalize it so he could begin to process it.
“It’s everything we feared.” Adam pulled in a shuddering breath. “We knew we were dealing with a lot when it came to Nick . . . we were right.”
Frank nodded. All the brothers had suspected some kind of sexual abuse in Nick’s past. The boy hadn’t been ready to talk about it, so they had dealt with his other concerns, knowing that it was like peeling an onion. Layer after layer until everything was revealed.
Adam ran his hands down his face. “I wish . . . I wish I could shut my feelings off. Sitting there with him, feeling his betrayal and his horror and his shock . . . I’ve never prayed to lose my gift before, but I did then. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Frank. These boys and their backgrounds and their hurting hearts—I can’t carry this anymore.”
Frank placed a hand on his brother’s knee and began to pull out all the overwhelming emotions his brother was feeling. There were so many of them, Frank almost couldn’t handle them. He rallied as best as he could, took a deep breath, and began to send calm. He envisioned it like golden light swirling around and around Adam’s heart, healing it and soothing it. After a few long moments, he’d done everything he could and he sat back, completely exhausted.
“I don’t think we’ve had any idea what you go through on a day-to-day basis,” he said quietly. “We’re just used to you being the anchor, the North Star to our family, and I don’t think we’ve ever stopped to think about the load you carry. I’m sorry, Adam. I won’t overlook that again.”
Adam’s eyes were so red, they looked painful. “I’ve hidden it because whining doesn’t do anyone any good, but yeah, it’s hard.” He pulled in another shuddering breath. “Mom’s with Nick now. After we talked, she fed him some cookies and he fell asleep. She wasn’t in the room when he told me—it would have destroyed her.”
Their mother was one tough lady, and Frank knew beyond a doubt that she would take on any challenge when it came to her boys. But she was also the most tenderhearted woman he knew, and Adam was right. Hearing those kinds of details would be too much for her. She knew the boys had been through a lot, but she functioned best not thinking about their pasts and focusing on making their here and now wonderful.
“She’s just what Nick needs right now,” Frank said, and Adam nodded. “So, what triggered Nick today? Was it something at school? Why now, of all times?”
“There was a presentation of some kind in biology, something to do with human reproduction,” Adam replied. “Thank goodness it was the last class of the day. He barely made it home before he fell apart.”
“And now?” Frank asked. “What happens next?”
“And now the healing can really begin.” Adam rolled his shoulders, obviously tense. “I don’t think I’ll need to bring it up again—we talked about it pretty thoroughly just now, and I don’t see a need to keep hashing it out. Keep an eye on him, would you? He’ll need some extra help over the next few days.”
“Of course I will,” Frank replied. “It’s you I’m most worried about right now, though.”
Adam chuckled, completely without humor. “I’ve never asked Dad if there’s a way to turn off the gift. I think I will, though. How much . . . how much can one person be asked to carry? I want to throw a tantrum and say it isn’t fair and demand not to do this anymore, but at the same time, I know I belong here on the ranch, I know I belong with these boys, and I know this is what I was created to do. I just . . . I just don’t know if it’s going to kill me in the process.”
“It’s not going to kill you,” Frank replied. “You’re the strongest man I know, and now I’m getting an even better glimpse of just how strong. I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you more, Adam. I could have lightened your burden in a dozen different ways.”
“And I should have asked, but I felt like I was supposed to handle it alone. That’s not how this family works, though, is it? We all need each other. We’re interconnected, each of us a cog in the wheel.”
“That’s how the very best families operate,” Frank pointed out. “We’re there for each other and we support each other in everything. From now on, I’m going to do a better job at being there for you.”
“Thanks, brother.” Adam cleared his throat. “I’m going to check in with Dad.”
“Hang on a second. I pulled out a bunch of stuff, but I need your cooperation to get the rest. You really do think you’re supposed to carry this burden alone, don’t you? You’re hanging on to that last bit like it’s your precious.”
“I’ve always had a hard time letting go,” Adam replied.
“Well, now you need to. Work with me here. Breathe. Imagine yourself giving away that horrible lump right in the center of your chest.”
Frank sensed Adam’s struggle, but at last, the lump was relaxed and soothed, and Frank was exhausted. “You put up quite a fight there.”
Adam chuckled. “You know how stubborn I am.”
“If I was ever in doubt before, now I have solid proof.” Frank made a shooing motion with his hand. “Go see Dad. I think I need a nap now.”
Adam came to his feet, then put his hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said softly.
Frank looked up at him with exhausted eyes. “What are brothers for?”
***
Frank rested on his hay bale for fifteen minutes before he felt strong enough to stand. He checked in with Gideon to make sure the boys were all right, and then he began what seemed like a very long walk back to his cabin. Lifting his legs to climb the porch steps felt like agony, and when he finally made it inside and closed the door, his mother looked at him with alarm.
“Frank?”
“I’ve been talking to Adam,” he said, and she understood immediately. She tucked her arm through his and guided him over to the couch.
“I’ve never seen him so upset as he was when he left here,” she said, her usually cheerful face now solemn. “It hurts me to see my boys hurting, but I’m so glad you have each other.”
Another pang of guilt lanced Frank at her words. “I need to be a better brother to him.”
“A better brother? There’s no such thing. You boys make me proud every day with the way you watch out for each other.”
“Adam’s been carrying way too much for way too long. I should have known it.”
“And he should have said something.” Lillian patted Frank’s knee. “That’s one thing about being a man that I’ll never understand. Of course, I don’t understand any of it because I’m not a man, but you know what I mean. Why are so many of you so determined to do everything on your own? Since when is asking for help a sign of failure?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know. Doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. Now, you sit there and rest, and I’m going to make dinner. I think that after the day you’ve all had, you deserve a night off, don’t you?”
“That would be really great, Mom. And Hunter says he’s ready to try being the odd man out and to let the other boys eat regular food again.”
“Oh, that boy. He would be thinking about the others’ feelings, wouldn’t he?” Lillian stood. “I’ll go invade your kitchen and see what I can dredge up.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Frank slid down on the couch and rested his head against the cushions. Then he closed his eyes and sent the very last bit of calm he had to offer toward Nick, hoping the boy was resting peacefully. Then Frank was asleep too, unable to fight the exhaustion any longer.