January 1947

He sat, staring at his hands that were resting in his lap, ignoring the bleak winter landscape that rushed past his window. By his watch, it was only twenty more minutes before he would reach town, and then he'd have to get off the train. He was dreading it.

His life had been touched by so many deaths; soldiers fighting on both sides of the war, close friends and strangers, innocent civilians who'd been in the wrong place when the battle caught up with them, his parents. How much death could one person see in their lifetime? A lot, apparently, and it seemed it was never going to end. After he'd come back from the war, he'd hoped he wouldn't have to face death until he was an old man, but it had returned to take someone close to him again.

The train whistle blew, signaling they were getting close to town, and Billy rubbed his hands on his trousers to dry the sweat that suddenly formed. Kitty had been writing to Helen since they'd moved to New York, and had passed on to him the welcome news they were expecting a baby. He was happy for his brother, and when he got a telegram two days ago, he assumed it was about the birth. Instead, it was a frantic plea from Annie to call home as soon as possible.

When he did, the news was a tragic blow, but there was more. Johnny had always been the strong one, the rock he'd relied on when times were bad. Yet, according to Annie, losing Helen and the baby had done something to him. She wouldn't go into details, only tearfully begging him to come home. He knew it had to be bad.

During the entire trip, Billy's grief for Helen and her baby had weighed heavily on him, but how much more must his brother be suffering? If something like that had happened to Kitty and Jess... Billy shook his head to get the thought out.

The whistle blew again and the train slowed as it approached the station. He straightened in his seat while his breathing became shallower. He would give anything not to have to be there. The train crawled up to the platform, and then stopped with a lurch. People in his car stood and began to pull down suitcases and winter coats from the nets overhead.

Outside his window, James came out of the small train station. His face was grim while he took one last drag off the stub of a cigarette before flicking it away. Billy could no longer put it off. It was time for him to face the tragedy at home.

"Sir!" James called out when he stepped off the train, and Billy went to him. James held his hand out for Billy's suitcase. "I'll take it."

Once James had it, he turned and Billy followed him to the parking lot. He was desperate to ask James about his brother, but there were people close enough to hear, so he kept quiet. One lesson he'd been taught from an early age, never give people information about the family they could spread all over town.

On the other side of the train station, he looked for the Duesenberg, but James headed for a black Cadillac parked at the curb.

"New car?" Billy asked.

"Aye," James said curtly, opening the trunk so he could stow away the suitcase.

Billy remembered his brother had planned to replace their old Duesenberg, but it somehow added to his grief. That part of his childhood was gone forever, along with so much more.

He waited for James to open the rear door for him, even though he could have done it himself. Being waited on by servants wasn't the kind of life he led anymore, nor did he want to. But now that he was home, it seemed important to go along with the norms of his old life out of respect for his brother.

After James had pulled out onto the two lane highway, Billy thought he might start talking about what happened, but he remained silent. "How's my brother?" he asked after a few minutes.

James kept his eyes on the road while Billy watched him in the rearview mirror. "Beggin' your pardon, sir. I can't say. I haven't seen him since – since that day."

"You haven't seen him at all?"

"No, sir."

That would mean Johnny hadn't been driven to work, or anywhere in the days since Helen died. "Who's taking care of the mine?"

"I don't know, sir."

"I see," Billy said, leaning back in his seat.

Gazing out the window, he wished fervently he was home already. It didn't seem possible Johnny would stay home that many days in a row, or neglect the business he loved so much. How bad off was his brother?

James pulled up to the gate and put the car in park. While Billy watched him unlock the padlock, a dead woman lying in the snow with a baby in her arms suddenly flashed in front of him. Blood from both of them were staining the white ground surrounding their bodies.

Billy took in a sharp breath and held it, focusing on James. I am here. I am here at home, not in Belgium, he repeated silently until the vision went away.

James got back in the car, and while they headed into the woods, Billy pushed down his growing dread. He hoped this didn't mean the memories were going to start haunting him again.

He waited after James parked the car, letting him open the door to prolong the moment he'd have to face his brother. Annie appeared in the open front doorway as he was climbing out and he walked to her with his head down.

"I'm so grateful you're here!" she said when he reached her, and he finally lifted his eyes. She was pale and appeared on the verge of tears as she stepped back to let him in.

"Hello, Annie," he said quietly while she closed the door.

"Billy," was all she could say before she covered her mouth with a handkerchief and began sobbing.

He hesitated a moment, then put his arm around her shoulders.

"It's too sad," she sobbed.

"I know, I'm sorry," he said, fighting back his own emotions. "Where's Johnny?"

She pulled away, and wiped here eyes. "He's upstairs," she said, turning to the grand parlor. "Let's go in here."

He followed her, noticing the oppressive silence in the house. Was Douglas upstairs with him?

She sat on a couch and he sat opposite her, leaning forward. "What happened? How could Helen and the baby have died?"

"I don't know!" She began crying again, then made an attempt to stop. "We thought everything was fine," she said, her voice trembling. "Helen didn't have any troubles at all, right up to the delivery. She wanted to have the baby at home. She knew the hospital wouldn't let Douglas or Johnny visit her, and she didn't want to be separated from them. We thought it would be alright. Even the doctor said it was okay."

She took a deep breath before starting again. "The delivery took a long time. It started early in the morning on Saturday, before the sun came up, and by late that night, the baby still hadn't come. The doctor kept checking her, but he said everything was going well. By then she was exhausted. She was sleeping between contractions, and even the doctor fell asleep in his chair. Then I noticed she was really pale."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she wiped them away as she continued. "When he lifted the blankets to check her again, the bed was soaked with blood."

Billy stiffened. The dead woman and her baby appeared in front of him.

"The doctor said she was hemorrhaging, and the only way to save her was to pull the baby out. It would kill the baby, but if he didn't, they'd both die!"

She covered her face with her hands, and Billy reached over, putting his hand on her knee, hoping the physical contact would keep him grounded in the present.

"It was horrible to watch, but it didn't work." She shook her head, her face still covered. "When he knew he wasn't going to save her, he had me get Johnny." She looked at Billy, her eyes swimming. "Johnny was surprised when he saw me. He said, 'I didn't hear the baby cry.'"

She had to stop as more tears came, and Billy pulled out his handkerchief, no longer able to hold back his own.

"I couldn't be in the room when he went in there. I couldn't bear to watch him say good bye to her."

They both cried quietly for a few minutes, and then Annie made an attempt to continue.

"Johnny stayed with her and the baby until the hearse took them away. It was a little boy, exactly what they wanted." She took a shaky breath. "After the hearse and doctor left, he stayed in there with the door closed. Douglas woke up, and I had to tell him. Poor thing. He didn't understand. I don't know if he understands now."

"Where is he?"

"He's at school." She looked at her watch. "Well, now he's at his friend's house. They've been taking him home to play, and James picks him up at dinner time. I don't want him here when his father is..." She didn't finish, shaking her head.

"What happened to Johnny?" Billy said. "James said he hasn't left the house for days."

"It's worse than that, Billy. I was giving Douglas his breakfast in the kitchen that morning, and I saw Johnny go behind the garage. I knew he was going to the cabin, and I thought maybe he wanted to be alone. While he was gone, I went up to his room to take out the bedding and see if I could clean the mattress, but there was too much blood."

She passed her hand over her eyes, and Billy knew she was seeing the blood.

"There was nothing I could do about it, so I went back down to Douglas. After a while, I saw Johnny come back, and he looked so – so –  He was a wreck. He was crying, like he'd been broken. I had to distract Douglas so he wouldn't see him." She used her handkerchief to wipe away fresh tears. "He went in the garage and when he came out, he was carrying a gasoline can."

"A gasoline can?" Billy said with alarm.

"I was certain he was going to burn down the cabin, maybe with him in it. I told Douglas to stay put, and ran and went to get James. I didn't see him so I screamed up the stairs to his apartment for him to go to the cabin, then I left to go myself. That's when I heard Douglas calling for me. I told him to go back. I didn't want him to see his father in such a state, but he was too afraid. He knew something bad was happening. I had to take him with me, I didn't have a choice! I had to stop Johnny before he hurt himself."

"I understand," he said gently.

"When I got to Johnny, the couch, the one he bought for Helen, and the mattress from the bed were pulled out of the cabin. He was pouring gasoline on them, and it was splashing on his clothes. When the can was empty, that's when James got there. Johnny took out a book of matches, and I screamed for him to stop before he set himself on fire. James pulled Johnny back and took his matches away. Johnny swore at him, and then told him to light the fire, and – he had to do it. There was so much gasoline, the flames went as high as the tops of the trees."

Billy let out a breath. It sounded like his brother had gone mad.

"Douglas started crying, and I guess that's when Johnny finally realized I was there. He yelled at me to take Douglas back to the house. It scared Douglas even more, and I left. It took a long time to calm him down, and by time I had, Johnny had gone back to his bedroom and closed the door."

She looked at the crumpled handkerchief in her hands.

"The first chance I could go to the cabin, I couldn't believe how bad it was. He'd smashed nearly everything in there, dishes, furniture, he'd even torn the curtains and bedding to shreds. James helped me clean it up and he got rid of the burned couch and mattress so Johnny wouldn't see it. I thought Johnny would come out of his room by the next day, but he didn't, and when he stayed in there all day, that's when I telegrammed you."

"Are you sure he hasn't done harm to himself up there?"

"He hasn't. I've knocked on his door, several times each day, trying to convince him to come out, but he yells at me to leave him alone. I don't know what else to do!"

"It's alright, you did everything you could."  He stood. "I'll go up and see him."

She slumped with relief. "Thank you."

"I should thank you. I'm glad you were here to take care of both of them."

She was only able to nod, too overcome with emotion, and he headed for the stairs. At his brother's bedroom door, he was about to knock, then dropped his hand. Why give his brother the opportunity to tell him not to come in?

He tried the door handle, and was relieved when the door opened an inch. He'd been worried Johnny might have locked it and he was going to have to kick it in.

"Johnny?" he said, opening it fully.

The shades on the windows were pulled down, making the room dark. Entering the room, he saw the bare mattress with a large dark stain in the center, and immediately looked away. He  took short breaths, but still smelled a trace of iron from the blood.

"Johnny?" he said more loudly to distract himself from the memories it triggered. Then he saw his brother.

Johnny was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up. His hair was falling over his forehead and he had several days' worth of stubble on his face. But what disturbed Billy the most was the way he was, staring at the bed.

Billy recognized that stare. He'd seen it in soldiers who'd gone through a wrenching battle and were trying to make sense of the horrors they'd seen.

"Hey, buddy," he said, crouching down so he'd be in his brother's line of sight. "You, okay?"

Johnny's head slowly rose, and he seemed to be trying to focus. "Billy?" he said in a raspy voice. "Is that really you?"

Billy swallowed. "Yeah, it's really me."

"What are you doing here?"

He seemed genuinely confused, and his voice was gravelly.

"Let's get you some water." Billy rose and went to the bathroom. When he came back, he held the glass out. "Here, take this."

Johnny waved it away with his eyes back on the bed.

"Take it, Johnny!" he ordered. The commanding tone he'd used got Johnny's attention, and he complied. "Drink all of it."

Johnny's hands shook as they brought the glass to his mouth, but he drained it. "Why are you here?" he asked, setting the glass on the floor next to him. He already seemed more coherent.

"Annie asked me to come," Billy said, sitting on the floor facing him. "She's worried about you."

Johnny looked past him to the bed without responding.

"I'm sorry about Helen, Johnny," he said, not trying to hold back the tears that came. "I'm sorry about the baby."

Johnny's face crumpled. "She's gone," he said simply, and then started sobbing. "She's gone!"

Billy let him cry and wiped his own tears as they came. He'd long gotten over his shock of seeing grown men cry. Hell, he'd cried himself plenty of times. It helped ease the pain when his soul was too full to take any more.

"I should have known it would happen," Johnny said as he wiped his face minutes later, bitterness laced through his words. "I should have known I was hoping for too much."

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you noticed?" Johnny said, his face contorting. "Every time something good is about to happen to me, something bad happens instead."

Billy sighed. He couldn't deny his brother had endured more than his share of tragedies.

"Time after time, happiness is stolen from me. It's like I have some kind of curse."

"You still have to go on, Johnny."

"How do I do it?" he said, the pain returning to his voice. "How do I go on – without her? I loved her so much." He began sobbing again, and Billy let him.

"I saw a lot of people die in the war," he said when Johnny became quiet again. "My friends that I loved like brothers, replacement troops so new I didn't even know their names, enemy soldiers, school boys and old men they forced to fight us." He took a deep breath. "Women and children, all the way down to little babies."

Johnny covered his face with his hands.

"What I learned from all that is – death isn't fair. It doesn't care who it takes, and it's arbitrary. It could have been me who was shot instead of the fellow standing next to me. But I also learned we have to keep going. Even when we lose the people we care about, there are others who are depending on us. You've never let them down in the past. I know you won't let them down now."

"I can't," Johnny said his voice cracking. "This time – it hurts too much."

Billy moved close enough he could put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "You have a little boy who's lost his mother. Are you going to let him lose his father too?"

"How can I help him, when I'm – like this?"

"Because you're strong, Johnny! Strong enough to get up and start taking care of the people who need you. The men at the mine need you so they don't lose their jobs. Annie and James need you. And Douglas needs you. Your boy needs you, Johnny. You have to keep going for him."

Johnny was no longer looking at the bed. Instead he seemed to be thinking, and Billy hoped he'd taken in his words. Then, to his relief, Johnny nodded.

Billy stood and took his brother's hand to help him up. "Why don't you get cleaned up while I wait for you downstairs. I'll have Annie fix us something to eat. Alright?"

His brother nodded again, his eyes on the floor, then shuffled in the direction of the bathroom. Watching him, Billy suppressed a sigh. It was a good sign he'd gotten his brother up and moving, he thought as he left the room. But it wasn't a guarantee he wouldn't collapse again.

The house was much darker now that the sun was lower than the trees. Billy turned on lights in the rooms downstairs, looking for Annie, but it was apparent she was in the kitchen. When he walked in, Annie was at the stove with her back to him, and at the little table by the window sat Douglas.

He was much bigger than the last time Billy had seen him, a handsome boy with dark wavy hair and arresting blue eyes so much like his mother's. His expression was unusually serious for someone so small as he studied Billy. "Who are you?" he asked, almost making it sound like a demand.

Annie turned around. "Oh, Billy."

"I'm your Uncle Billy," he said to Douglas. He smiled, but Douglas frowned at him like he wasn't sure about him.

"This is your daddy's brother, Douglas," Annie said gently, going to him and smoothing his hair. "He's come to visit us. How is he?" she asked Billy, her eyes full of questions she couldn't ask in front of Douglas.

"He's coming down in a bit," he said, noticing Douglas was still frowning at him.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Annie said.

"He'll need something to eat."

"I've got some stew heated. Do you think that'll be good, or should I make something else?"

"That'll be fine. Can I have a seat with you?" he asked Douglas, indicating the chair opposite him.

Douglas shifted his eyes away. "Okay."

Billy sat, and Douglas picked up his spoon. He dug it into his food, but didn't eat.

"I understand you're in school now," Billy said.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you like it?"

Douglas shrugged. "It's okay."

"You like school," Annie said, speaking up for him. "He's one of the best students in his class."

"That's good," Billy said, smiling at Douglas, but Douglas frowned at his bowl.

"He gets very good grades and his teacher loves him, isn't that right, Douglas?"

Douglas lifted his head, and his face lit up. "Daddy!" He jumped out of his chair and ran to his father who caught him.

"Daddy," he repeated while Johnny hugged him, his eyes squeezed shut.

Annie let out a sob, and then sucked in a breath, fighting back her emotions. "I've got stew, if you want some," she said shakily.

"That will be alright," he said, putting Douglas down.

"Come eat with me, daddy," Douglas said, taking his hand and pulling him to the table.

Johnny took the remaining empty seat, and put his hands on the table. He still had a trace of the haunted look he'd had when Billy first found him, but he'd combed hair cream into his hair, and shaved.

"Who's been looking over the mine?" Billy asked.

"Uh," Johnny said, shaking his head slowly. "Kennedy, I guess."

"That's right," Annie said, placing a steaming bowl and a spoon in front of him. "Mr. Kennedy has been calling every day to let you know things are going fine."

Johnny looked at his food without replying.

"I'll go in tomorrow and talk to him, just to be sure he doesn't need a hand," Billy said.

"Daddy, eat your soup," Douglas prompted, and Johnny picked up his spoon. "Careful, it could be hot."

Johnny gave his son a sad smile. "I'll be careful," he said, ruffling his hair.

Later that evening, Johnny was sitting in the grand parlor, staring into the fire while Douglas sat on his lap, reading one of his children's books to him out loud.

Billy wasn't sure if Douglas had the story memorized or if he really did know how to read, but it didn't seem as if Johnny was hearing it anyway.

"Uh, Douglas," Annie said hesitantly, appearing in the doorway. "It's time for you to have a bath and get ready for bed."

"I'm not done with my story!"

"It's getting late, honey. I already let you stay with daddy a half hour past the time you normally get your bath."

"I don't wanna go!"

"It's alright, Douglas," Johnny said, finally stirring. "After your bath, you can finish reading it to me."

"Okay," he grumbled, reluctantly sliding to the floor. "Don't lose my place," he said, handing the book to his father.

"I won't."

"He's gotten so big," Billy said after Douglas and Annie had gone upstairs.

"He has," Johnny said, his voice more bitter. "Too bad he'll never be a true Blackwell."

"Johnny, that's not true."

"We tried so hard to have another child so he wouldn't lose what should have been his," he said, his voice cracking.

"I'll talk to the lawyers," Billy said in an attempt to shift the conversation so Johnny wouldn't start crying. "I'll tell them to figure out a way to have the trust changed."

"Don't you think I tried that already?"

"Well, I'll tell them I don't want it. I'll sign papers to make it legal. If I refuse it, they'll have to give it to Douglas."

Johnny shook his head. "I don't know," he said grimly.

"We'll talk about it later. We've got time. The thing we need to concentrate on now is – the funeral."

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"We have to start planning it, Johnny."

Tears appeared in his eyes.  "I can't do it."

"I can make the arrangements with Annie. You don't have to do anything."

"I don't know how I can..." He continued to shake his head as tears fell.

"You'll manage," Billy said, putting a steadying hand on his brother's shoulder. "You'll find the strength when you need it."

After some minutes, Johnny recovered, and they sat in silence until Douglas ran in the room, wearing a robe over his pajamas. "I'm finished with my bath!" he announced, and Johnny pulled him onto his lap.

"Here's your book. I saved your place for you," Johnny said, smiling in spite of the sadness in his eyes.

Douglas looked at the picture of the poky little puppy sniffing a strawberry, and continued reading. Billy watched his brother's eyes shift to the fire, but he tightened his arm around his little boy, pulling him closer so he could kiss the top of his head.

****

This was a super sad chapter to write.  Helen's death and the devastation that Jonathon felt has been in my head since before I decided to write this story.  I hope it wasn't too difficult to read.  We have one chapter left, the epilogue, and now is the time to let me know what you're hoping to read.  Are there any loose ends I didn't tie up?  Or any questions that weren't answered for you?   Please let me know!

Thank you so much for all your support up to this point!  I can honestly say, I may not have finished this story if I didn't have your encouragement.  I expect it will take me the remaining month to write the epilogue, especially because the holidays are coming.  Hopefully, I'll have it ready by early January.  Until then, I hope you enjoy time with your family and have a Happy New Year!