Blessings

A very upset Daniel McFadden extricated himself from the tangled covers around him and slid off of his bed. He stood still for a second before patting his rumbling tummy with a little moan.

He didn't feel good!

No, not at all.

The seven year old moved to the bedroom door and padded into the hall, guided by the lamp Adam always left lit in the hall for the boys.

Where should he go next, to the bathroom or to Adam?

Daniel paused for a couple of moments to decide, then crossed to Adam's room. He turned the knob and pushed the door inward at the same time, a trick he had taught himself to overcome the heavy door's tendency to stick.

Moonlight streaming through the window lessened the darkness of the room somewhat. Daniel felt his way to the foot of the bed in the shadows, then tiptoed around to the side nearest the window.

Ever resourceful, he used the bottom metal frame of the bed to launch himself onto the mattress, which allowed him to land with a plop onto his big brother. Adam startled awake just as Daniel slid off of his chest and onto his side.

Daniel placed a small hand on Adam's cheek. "My tummy feels sick," he explained, pointing towards his navel to illustrate.

Adam struggled to a semi-reclining posture and wiped at his mouth. "What? Ok, okay, I've got it. Did you get sick all ready?"

Daniel nodded no but regarded his brother miserably. He played with a ripped place across the wristband on Adam's cotton pajama top.

"Good," Adam brushed a hand across Daniel's face and then stopped to press his palm against the child's forehead. "You don't feel like you have a fever. Is it just your tummy or does something else hurt you?"

Daniel mumbled a yes and sank against the pillow.

"Ok, Baby. Hold on for me."

"Not a baby," Daniel contradicted with a scowl.

Adam swung his legs to sit on the edge of the bed and stumbled to his feet. He grabbed the wastebasket near the bureau and placed it beside the bed and in Daniel's sight. "If you think you'll really get sick, tell me and we'll try to make it to the bathroom. If that's too far, we'll use this." Adam leaned over and kissed Daniel on the forehead. "All right, I would like Mr. 'Not a Baby' to try to see if he can fall asleep."

Daniel closed his eyes obediently and Adam crawled back into the bed and adjusted the blankets over them both. He had just slipped back into the welcome warmth of sleep when he felt Daniel jerk beside him.

Instantly conscious, Adam snatched the little boy to him, slid them out from the covers, and sprinted. They reached the bathroom in the nick of time. As he had threatened, poor little Daniel was indeed nauseated, and when he finished, Adam wet a washcloth with cold water and wiped his mouth and face. Exhausted and miserable, the little boy crumpled against Adam's muscular chest and cried.

Adam spoke soothingly and waited nearly a minute to make sure the worst was over before whispering quietly. "Stay right here a second for me and I'll hurry back. You can sit on the edge of the tub."

Daniel responded by crying harder, emotional from his nausea as well as from the idea of his brother leaving him. As Adam rose he grabbed him around his waist.

Adam pried the small fingers loose and spoke to placate him. "Daniel, stop, please. Turn me loose. Your pajamas need changing and I want to get you some clean ones, ok? I promise I'll be back in no time."

Daniel relinquished his grip and when Adam returned he stripped off the child's soiled pajamas and dressed Daniel in clean ones. Finally, he held the little boy aloft at the sink to allow him to brush his teeth.

Once satisfied with the cleanup he tucked Daniel back in the bed, though at Daniel's tearful insistence, it was in Adam's bed and not his own. Adam straightened the bathroom and deposited Daniel's soiled clothing in the hamper. When he rejoined him Daniel rearranged himself so that he lay across his brother's stomach. Adam absently stroked Daniel's dark hair and within a couple of minutes the little boy drifted to sleep.

Adam sighed with relief and glanced at the clock.

12:15 A.M.

In just a few hours it would be time to wake up and deal with the chores and duties demanded with each sunrise at the ranch.

Adam fell back asleep mentally ticking off an agenda of goals for that day.

Guthrie's high pitched crying confused him, and in his dream Adam appropriated the sound and fused it into the action of a determined police car flying down the highway to pull him over for a traffic offense.

The noise from the baby swelled as it grew louder and the tone became angrier, finally snatching him entirely from sleep.

Adam bolted out of bed and jogged from his room to Guthrie's in a rush, hoping to avoid the other boys waking.

Guthrie greeted him miserably from his crib, and as Adam clicked on the lamp he realized the baby had been very sick over himself, his bedding, and the floppy tailed stuffed duck he clutched in one chubby fist. Guthrie's sobs shook his entire little body and Adam worked quickly to clean him, murmuring soothing words as he sponged the little face and body and changed him into clean pajamas emblazoned with tractors and trucks. He managed to strip the mattress with one hand and make the crib again with a clean sheet and blanket, all the while balancing Guth on one hip while trying not to jiggle him.

Finally he sank into the family's wooden rocking chair and gathered Guthrie against him as he rocked. Guthrie miserably cried himself back into sleep and an exhausted Adam settled him for the night once again before returning to his own bed.

The outline of two figures under the covers, rather than the solitary one he had left minutes earlier, failed to surprise him. Whatever virus or bug had targeted the McFaddens appeared destined to take down the entire family, one by one.

Adam eased gingerly onto the mattress and identified the new occupant as Ford. He quickly evaluated the little boy for signs he'd already been sick.

Ford passed the scrutiny, but as with Daniel, Adam's suspicion surfaced and he anticipated the nausea would slam into Ford momentarily. He leaned over and kissed the top of Ford's white blond head. As always, a tuft of hair stood up from a cowlick at the back of his head and Adam grinned.

The little boy curled against Daniel in response and threw one arm across his sleeping brother.

Adam debated actually positioning the wastebasket onto the bed between the boys, but decided against it.

A creaking in the hall and the distinctive sound of running water alerted him to yet another McFadden brother awake and ill. Adam sighed in resignation and slipped quietly into the hall to check. This time Brian turned a miserable expression his way from the space of the bathroom.

Adam joined him silently and carefully moistened a cloth. He waited for the nausea to finish then wiped his brother's face and mouth.

Brian leaned against the lavatory, poised for another bout of sickness. Adam felt for him. The teen looked wretched, and evidently felt just as wretched.

Once it appeared the worst had passed, Adam directed comfortingly, "Brush your teeth and go lie down, Bri. I'll bring you a clean cloth and move the trash can by your bed."

Depleted of energy, Brian just nodded in confirmation. Following his brother's instructions, he turned with a wince and trudged back to his room.

Once Adam settled Brian he moved into the hall and leaned tiredly against the door jamb.

What a night!

Adam took mental stock of his family's state. He personally felt physically okay, okay as in not nauseated and miserable, though admittedly sleep deprived and worn out.

Still, he was standing.

Brian had succumbed.

The bug had slammed Daniel.

Guthrie was sick.

Ford showed the same symptoms.

Adam inhaled a deep, focusing breath and concentrated on putting the situation into perspective.

Four down.

More than half.

He massaged his temples and channeled positive thoughts.

On the bright side, three appeared unscathed and fever didn't fit into the picture.

Even better, he was one of the three left standing and more than capable of nursing the others. And since he was still healthy, he could also figure out how to shoulder their chores and run the house and ranch without input from his younger brothers.

Adam bit the side of his lip and raked his fingers through his dark hair.

That's what the head of the household's responsibilities demanded.

Brian moaned, interrupting his train of thought.

Adam peered down the hall suspiciously. What about Crane and Evan?

He tiptoed to each little brother's bedside. Both boys slept deeply with no sign of discomfort or impending tummy aches.

Adam breathed a sigh of relief. That would make his morning so much easier. He could count on Crane to pitch in with whatever he requested. Evan would beg to help him with anything ranch-related, so he could enlist the younger child to double up on some of the smaller ranch chores.

A guttural noise waylaid his immediate survival planning. Adam swiveled and slipped out of one room and into the next in time to hold the wastebasket under Brian. Once Brian rolled onto his back with a groan, Adam brushed back his brother's brown hair. "Be right back," he promised.

Moments later he sponged Brian's face with another cool, wet cloth.

In response, Brian regarded him gratefully from shadowed blue eyes. "Like Mama," he mumbled. "Mama would wipe our mouths and faces."

"Yep," Adam agreed, and his voice caught. A sudden rush of loss overwhelmed him and he turned his head and fought for control of his emotions.

Adam clenched his jaw and concentrated, willing the devastating feeling to pass.

"I know," Brian whispered. He bunched the feather pillow underneath his head. "She's not here for us anymore."

Adam turned back to regard him and managed a small grin. "But I'm nearly as pretty, is that what you wanted to say?"

Brian chuckled at the question but chided his brother. "Don't make me laugh unless you want a mess. My stomach wants to revolt."

"Ok," Adam agreed softly. "At least I learned something from Mama though."

"A blessing," Brian pronounced, curling onto his side.

Adam arranged the blankets to cover Brian's shoulders. "Blessings, not blessing."

"Agreed." His younger brother shifted a bit to regard him. "Even though we have lost Mama and Daddy, the blessings have never stopped." Brian's blue eyes questioned Adam's brown ones. "You know that, right?"

Adam directed his gaze toward the bedroom ceiling.

"Hey-" Brian rested a hand on his arm. "Having you step up and take the reins saved our family. God was with us even when we thought he had forgotten us. You, Big Brother, have turned into the greatest blessing of all."

"Thank you," Adam acknowledged softly. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and moved into the hall. "Call me if you need me. I should check your brothers."

"Will do."

Adam moved methodically from one little brother to another, feeling foreheads for fevers and reassuring himself that they slept peacefully.

Finally satisfied, Adam collapsed into his own bed, maneuvered a sliver of room for himself on the mattress, and slipped back into sleep with the blessings in his life.