Nancy had just finished changing into some dry clothes when she heard the squeal of brakes. Poking her head outside of the tent she was sharing with Bess, she saw the Hardys' van parked haphazardly next to her Mustang, Frank climbing out of the driver's seat. He looked angry, and his clothes were still wet, indicating something had caused him to leave before he could even change.

"Uh, oh," she said softly. "Bess, stay here." Then she hurried from her tent to see what was the matter.

Frank's face softened as she approached him, noticing the concerned look on her face. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to come here after all, he thought. I don't need to drag Nancy into my family problems. I'm a big boy. I can handle myself.

"What's wrong?" Nancy asked worriedly.

Frank sighed and ran a hand through his still-damp brown hair. As long as I'm here, I might as well tell her.

"It's Joe," he said, his anger beginning to rise all over again. He could usually keep his temper, but Joe had really upset him. "We came here so that we could spend time together as a family, but Joe's already made a date with Kinzy!"

"Kinzy?" she asked, puzzled. "Whose Kin---" Then her eyes lit up. "Oh! You mean, our river guide?"

"That's the one. He decided that, instead of going hiking with us, he's going with her tomorrow, on my day to choose. And he's supposed to be my brother! You know, be there for me and all that. Guess they didn't cover that in the little brother handbook."

Though Frank sounded and looked angry, Nancy could tell that he was sad. Sad that his brother had chosen someone else over him. She didn't have it in her heart to tell him that he had done the same thing to Joe, by asking her to come along. She wasn't family either.

"Maybe Joe just wants some time away from the people he knows," she suggested.

"But--"

"Just give him some time, Frank. He's going to be acting different for awhile. His emotions are in turmoil, and he doesn't really know what's going on. He's going to be that way for awhile. I'll bet you anything that, right now, he's feeling incredibly lonely."

Frank sighed and hung his head. "You're right, Nancy. As usual. I never thought of it that way. I never should have yelled at him like I did. I just want this vacation to go smoothly. I just want to spend some time with him, let him know we're here for him." He looked up and gave her a sad smile. "Looks like I blew it, huh?"

"Nah," Nancy said with a smile. "I know how you Hardys are." You always come through for each other, no matter what. Everything will work out fine, I promise."

"Let's just hope you're right," he said softly, casting a troubled glance back in the direction of his camp.

Joe Hardy was on the verge of doing something he hadn't done since he was a child: crying. He couldn't remember the last time he had broken down. He couldn't even remember the last time he had shed only a few tears. He hadn't even cried when Iola died, the shock of her being gone and the overwhelming guilt he felt had prevented him from doing so. Everyone told him that once the shock wore off the emotional impact that would hit would be big. It was a month later, and he still felt numb whenever he thought about her, though the doctor's had assured his father it would only take a few weeks for the shock to go away. Joe tried not to think about her too much, hating the emptiness he felt when he did. He talked about her even less. In fact, yesterday was the first time he could remember talking about her since the accident.

He angrily fought back tears, refusing to cry over something as stupid as a fight with his brother, one that he hadn't even started. If Frank wanted to act childish and play selfish, then it was no skin off of Joe's back. They would spend some time away from each other tomorrow, then maybe-just maybe-they could act civil towards each other and finish out their vacation as planned. Maybe even achieve some of that 'male bonding' his father had been talking about.

He turned up his CD player, trying to drown out the noise of his own thoughts, and continued to look through his car magazine.

A '67 cherry red Mustang, he thought, gazing at the car longingly. My dream car. I would die to have one of these. Who knows? Maybe when I'm older...

Joe had to shake his head as he flipped the page. He seriously doubted that he would ever be able to own that car, but he was going to circle it anyway. It was his favorite type of car, and none of the others he had seen in this magazine could match it. In fact, no other car in the world could match it.

He suddenly caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw the black van pull up. Frank was back.

Joe purposely turned his back on the van and cranked up the stereo as loud as it would go. Metallica blared in his ears.

Joe knew, deep down, that there wasn't much of a chance of saving their vacation, though he tried to convince himself there was. Not with Nancy around all the time. He had a hunch that was where his brother had run off to, probably to complain about Joe. He was just surprised to see him back so soon. He entertained the thought that his brother and Nancy had had a fight, but he knew that was impossible. That would never happen. Those two could get married and still wouldn't fight.

Joe felt an incredible sadness wash over him. He realized that his older brother--his best friend--would rather spend his vacation with someone else than with him. I wish I knew how to be a better brother.

Suddenly, the urge to cry came back to Joe, and this time, he couldn't hold it back. Dropping his beloved car magazine and CD player-headphones included-into the dirt, Joe got to his feet and sprinted off into the woods.

Frank had been mentally preparing himself to receive many different reactions from his brother ever since he had left Nancy's camp. He had to talk to Joe, no matter what happened. Joe could argue with him, he could listen to what Frank had to say, not talking back, or he could simply ignore Frank all together. It didn't matter. Frank had to say something.

But one thing Frank hadn't planned on was seeing his brother take off for the woods before Frank had even had a chance to talk to him.

Frank just blinked for a second, then his mouth turned into a grim line and a look of determination settled onto his handsome face. He was going to have a talk with Joe whether his brother liked it or not!

Just before he could stalk after him, though, his father laid a restraining hand on his arm. "Frank...have a seat," he commanded quietly.

"I just want to talk to him," Frank protested, pulling against his father's grip. " If he'll just sit and listen... "

Fenton kept a firm grip on his son's arm and tugged him in the direction of a log. "You don't understand, Frank. It's not you he's upset with, it's himself. "

Frank just stared at him. "What do you mean? I'm the one he had a fight with. Why shouldn't he be angry at me?"

The detective nodded to where Joe's CD player and car magazine lay abandoned in the dirt. "He's done a pretty good job at hiding it, but, since you left, he's been trying his hardest not to cry."

Frank blinked at him a few times. Then he sat down on the log, not needing his father's help. The shock of what he was hearing had made his legs not want to work. "Crying? Dad, Joe never cries. I cried at Iola's funeral. He didn't. And it was his girlfriend that died!"

Fenton sat on the log next to his son and let out a sad sigh. "The shock's beginning to wear off," he said quietly. "The doctor I talked to--remember him? He told us that once the shock of Iola's death wore off, the emotions that Joe had kept pent up are going to come out all at once. He told us that Joe's emotions would be messed up. He could be crying one minute and laughing the next. And it could be over anything. Including a fight with his brother."

Frank looked troubled. "And you think that's what's happening here?" His father nodded. "How long do you think it'll last?"

Frank's troubled look was mirrored on his father's face. "I don't know. The doctor told me it would only take a few weeks for the shock to wear off, but it's taken a month. I don't know if this means his emotional outbursts will be more violent, or if they'll last longer than expected, or...what." He let out a deep sigh. "I just don't know, Frank."

"Don't worry, Dad," Frank said softly, speaking with more assurance than he actually felt. "We'll get Joe through this. Somehow. That's a promise." One I hope I can keep....

Fenton nodded and offered a faint smile. " I know we will."

Frank turned and looked at the spot where his brother had disappeared into the woods. I'm here for you, Joe, he thought, hoping his brother could pick up on him. I will be, no matter what. I promise.

Joe Hardy had no idea where on earth he was or how long he had been running through these woods. The only thoughts in his head were that he had to get away from Frank, as far away as possible. If he didn't, he felt like he was going to explode.

He had never felt this way before in his life. It felt as if he had this huge bomb in his chest, and that he had to run far, far away to keep it from exploding. He pushed himself harder and faster, not even noticing the tears that poured from his eyes, nor the tightening of his chest.

Frank's harsh words echoed through Joe's mind over and over, causing the bomb to come close to exploding and him to run faster.

What's your problem?

You! This is our vacation, and you're out making dates! This is time we're supposed to spend as family.

As a family...

Joe choked back a sob as he slapped a branch out of his way. He didn't even notice his tortured lungs or burning legs. Or, if he did, he didn't care. In fact, he didn't notice anything around him.

I've failed. I failed as a boyfriend, now I've failed as a son and a brother. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry...sorry....sorry---

Joe was now crying so hard that he could no longer see what was in front of him, or anything else around him. He let out only a small cry as he tripped over a gnarled root that stuck up from the dirt and fall hard to the ground. However, he didn't shake off his hurt and get back to his feet, as he had so many times during football games. Instead, he drew his knees into his chest, and lay in a little ball in the middle of a forest, crying as he had never cried before as the bomb inside of him finally exploded. All he could think about were the people he cared about the most in the world. They were also the same people he had betrayed the most. There was Iola, who had died in an explosion meant for him. His father, who was always worried about Joe, upset that he couldn't even go on a vacation with his family. And there was Frank, who simply wanted his old brother back, the one he had had before the accident. But he would never see him again. That Joe had died in the explosion along with Iola. Joe wished he could bring his old self back, just to make Frank happy, make him not be angry with Joe. But he knew that wasn't possible. If he tried to bring the old Joe back, the new one would die as well, and then Frank would have nothing.

So intent was he on his memories of pain and his guilt that he never noticed the light began to fade as the sun began his slow decent over the horizon. He didn't care. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to go back. He wanted to be alone as the emotional wall he had spent the last month building came crumbling down, and the flood of emotions came pouring out. Emotions he was powerless to stop.

Joe's heart wrenched with every sob he let out, and soon his body was completely racked by them. All the bad things he had ever done to those he loved, every harsh word he'd ever said and didn't mean...It all came back to haunt him now. Especially things he'd done and said to his brother.

Oh, Frank, he thought miserably. I've let you down time after time, even after I promised I'd be there for you. Look at me. I can't even go on a vacation without saying something mean! I don't deserve to be your brother anymore. I... Oh, God. Please forgive me, Frank. I...I can't forgive myself. I can't do it.

And he went on, his pain-filled cries heeded by no one but the birds overhead in the trees, and a few curious animals on the ground.

Frank was absently flipping through Joe's car magazine and listening to his CD, not paying the least bit of attention to either one. His mind had other things to think about than classic cars and the lyrics to the latest Metallica song. Much more important things.

It had been nearly three hours since Joe had taken off from the camp. By the time the first hour and a half was up, Frank thought his brother was just being stubborn, maybe hoping Frank would feel bad and come look for him. By the two and a half-hour mark was up, he was beginning to have doubts that Joe was purposely staying away. By now, he was just plain worried.

A thousand different scenarios danced through Frank's mind. Joe could've gotten lost and was wondering around, helpless. He could've been bitten by a rattlesnake and was lying, all alone, dying. Or maybe he was attacked by something else, and they would never find his body. Frank hadn't been kidding when he'd warned Joe about the danger wild animals presented. Maybe Joe had fallen and was unconscious, not aware that he could possibly freeze when the temperature dropped later in the night. He could be dead, though Frank didn't want to think about it. He had to consider it. Maybe Joe had been kidnapped and taken away. Maybe he wasn't even in those woods at all. He could have fallen into the river. He---

Frank closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear his mind of all the horrible ideas it had given him about what had happened to his brother. Then, for the umpteenth time, his eyes wandered over to the break in the shrubs where his brother had ran through. He was hoping to see Joe walk out of there, alive and in one piece. But, just like everytime before, he was disappointed. Joe was not there.

"Where are you, Joe?" he muttered softly to himself.

Deep down, Frank knew that he should have never been so harsh on his brother, though he didn't want to admit it to himself. After all, he and his dad had had Joe in mind when they had planned this two-week vacation to Yellowstone. They had both agreed that it would do Joe good to get him away from the people and things that reminded him of the explosion, of Iola.

A lot of help it had done. Not that he'd helped much by yelling at him. Now look what had happened.

Sighing, Frank looked down at the car magazine that he still held and began to flip through it once more. Then something caught his eye, and he stopped flipping pages. Then he smiled.

Joe was a certified car nut. Anyone who knew him could attest to that. Be it a 2001 Dodge Viper or a '95 Lamborguini Diablos, Joe knew them all inside, outside, and upside down. Next to solving mysteries, cars were Joe's favorite thing in the world. There wasn't a car around that he couldn't fix or fall in love with. But there was one car, one special car that Joe seemed to care about the most.

Frank walked through the door of the Hardy home, nestled in Bayport, ready to announce that he was back home. But he stopped himself when he realized the effort would be wasted. His brother would never hear him, not even if Frank had been using a megaphone. He could hear the heavy bass through the floor above his head, proving that Joe had his stereo turned up loud enough to blow out all the upstairs windows. It was a wonder the neighbors hadn't called the cops yet.

I hate it when Mom and Dad go away, Frank grumbled to himself. Joe thinks he can do anything he wants, including cranking that junk he calls music up loud enough to cause everyone in Bayport to go deaf.

Frank shook his head and sighed to himself. Well, I might as well go tell him I'm back from Callie's. Though, I doubt he's even noticed I'm gone. Which could be a good thing, considering how much he doesn't like Callie...

As he climbed the stairs that led to the second floor where the bedrooms were located, Frank was wondering what was keeping his brother in his room. Joe usually spent most of his time in the kitchen, eating anything and everything in sight. Or he was in the living room, watching the latest football or baseball game and yelling at the TV. Frank knew that Joe wasn't cleaning his room. He wasn't even sure if his younger brother knew what the word 'cleaning' meant.

When Frank got close enough to hear what song Joe was playing, he stopped and groaned.

Great. Joe's got another car. No wonder he's still in his room.

When Joe had begun to take a serious interest in cars a few years ago, he had started a tradition in the Hardy household. Everytime he got a piece of memorabilia that had to do with cars, he would put in his CD of War's 'Lowrider' and play it for all to hear for the rest of the day. Now that Frank was only the landing of the second floor he could easily pick out the familiar strains of the song.

Wonder what he got this time? Do I even want to know? Frank walked up to Joe's door and shouted as loud as he could. "Joe?"

"Come in!" He barely managed to hear his brother's shouted reply.

Pushing the door open and stepping inside, Frank found his brother lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, a self satisfied grin on his face as he drummed out the song on his stomach with his hands. "Isn't she the most beautiful thing that you have ever seen?" he asked loudly, not taking his eyes off the ceiling.

Frank looked up to see what his brother was talking about and gasped in surprise.

Stretched across the ceiling just above Joe's bed was the biggest poster Frank could ever recall seeing, starting at one wall and ending just short of the opposite wall. And Frank had to admit that she was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

'She' was the car that Joe had always dreamed of owning. A cherry red '67 Mustang convertible. Oh, he liked all kinds of cars. He had tons of models and posters and other stuff. He even had a model of a '68 Shelby GT 500 Mustang. But this car, this beautiful car, was his favorite. He had more models, more pictures, more everything of this car than any others.

"Where did you get it?" Frank asked, almost in awe, as he continued to stare up at it.

"Iola brought it by on her way to work," Joe said happily. "Said it was an old one of Chet's from when he went through his car stage. He didn't want it anymore." He grinned, finally turning to look at Frank. "I don't know if I'll ever go to sleep again."

Frank's smile widened when he saw that same car staring up at him from the pages of the magazine, and that it was surrounded by a very wide, very dark circle.

Oh, Joe. What would I do without you?

The sun was now dangerously low on the horizon, with streaks of pink and purple spreading out across the sky, but Joe didn't notice. He had somehow managed to cry himself to a light sleep and hour ago. And he would have gladly stayed there all night if it wasn't for the hand gently shaking him awake.

"Joe?" came a somewhat familiar female voice. "Joe, wake up?"

Iola? No, she's dead. But then who---

Joe groaned and blinked his dry, itchy eyes open. He found himself staring into a pair of liquid silver ones.

Only person I know has eyes like that. "Kinzy?" he said drowsily.

"Yeah, it's me. Here, let me help you up."

Blinking a few more times, Joe was able to make out a hand that was being held out to him. It was small, with slender fingers. But Joe knew there was strength there. He took it and was pulled to his feet. He groaned as he felt his still joints cry in protest. They hadn't moved for over and hour, and were reminding Joe.

"Are you okay?" Kinzy asked, looking concerned.

"I'm fine," he assured her. He winced as he felt his back pop again. He knew he was going to be sore awhile. Not only had he taken a hard fall, but he had been lying on the cold ground for more that an hour.

He reached up with both hands to rub his burning eyes. He knew that they had to be bloodshot with all the crying he had done, and he could tell that they were puffy. Kinzy would be able to tell that he had been crying. Anyone would. But she didn't ask questions, much to his relief. He didn't feel like explaining the whole story just yet.

"So, what are you doing way out here?" she asked. "You're an awful long way from your campsite. And by yourself?"

He frowned, ignoring her last question. "How far away am I?"

"Oh, I'd say a good half hour's walk away. Maybe a little bit more."

Joe stared at her, blinking, his jaw suddenly hanging open. He was hoping he had heard her wrong. "A half hour? You've got to be joking, right? I can't be that far away, can I?"

Kinzy studied him curiously but still asked no questions. "Joe, you're nearly three and a half miles away from where you said your campsite was."

He shook his head slowly, finally realizing what she was saying. "Wow. I really wasn't paying attention, was I? Oh, well." He looked at her, puzzled. "Wait a minute. What are you doing out here? And all by yourself? I thought river guides stuck close to the river."

"Ah. A popular myth." She grinned. "I'm not just a river guide. I'm actually a park employee. And, as a park employee, I have certain jobs I must do. One of those is that, every night; I have a certain section of the park I have to check out. This just happens to be my section. That's why I'm here alone. That's also how I knew where your campsite was."

"Oh. That makes sense." Suddenly, Joe frowned. He suddenly realized that he was having a hard time making out Kinzy's features, and she was standing right in front of him. That's when he realized just how dark it was. Either he was going blind, or he had been gone a very long time. "Kinzy, what time is it?"

"Almost eight o'clock. Why?"

Joe's eyes nearly bugged out, and his jaw dropped another inch or two. This was a bigger surprise than how far away he was.

It had been two o'clock when he had ran off. He remembered looking at his watch when Frank had come back from Nancy's, thinking he had been gone only a short time. He had left right after that, unable to talk to his brother.

He let out a groan.

"Are you okay?" Kinzy asked, suddenly starting to get rally worried.

"Yeah. It's just that...Man! I've been gone for nearly six hours! My dad and brother are going to kill me when I get back. On top of me being gone for this long, it'll probably take at least another hour to get back. I'll never find my way around in the dark." He had suddenly decided that staying where he was might not be such a bad idea after all.

Knizy shrugged. "I can take you back."

Joe smiled and shook his head, though he was touched. "No thanks. There's no reason for you to have to walk me all the way back with me."

"Who said anything about walking?" asked the white-haired girl, pointing. In the rapidly fading sunlight, Joe could just make out the outline of what was definitely a four-wheeler. "I can swing you by your campsite. It's not like it's out of my way or anything."

"Thanks!" Joe said eagerly, very glad that he didn't have to try and find his way around in this darkness. He remembered the night before, Frank telling him about all the wild animals, and shuddered. He moved towards the vehicle quickly, then stopped just as fast. "Uh, on second thought. Could you drop me off a little ways away from my camp and let me walk? I don't think my brother would be to happy to see...anyone with me right now." He didn't have the heart to tell Kinzy that she was one of the main reasons he and Frank had fought, and that Frank probably wouldn't want to see her with him.

Kinzy smiled. "Sure. I can do that."

Joe climbed onto the ATV behind her, more than grateful that she hadn't asked any questions besides the normal ones. He didn't think he could answer them just yet.

One day, he promised himself. One day, I'll tell you the truth.

By now, Frank Hardy was way past worry.

Joe had now been gone for six hours, and it was almost completely dark. A small band of light that shone just above the hills was all that was left of the dying sun. Frank sat on a log, constantly shifting, wringing his hands as he kept his eyes glued to the spot where Joe had disappeared. His father was pacing restlessly by the fire.

Joe would never stay gone this long without contacting us. Not on purpose, anyway. Something's happened to him. I just know it. And it's all my fault. I never should have gotten angry with him. Never should have run off. If I hadn't, then Joe would still be here. He wouldn't have run off. How am I going to tell Mom?

After a few more minutes of pacing back and forth, Fenton stopped, sighed, and raked a hand nervously through his hair. "Listen, Frank. I want you to stay here. I'm going to go down to the ranger station. Maybe they've--"

"I'm sorry, guys," said another, quiet voice. "I didn't realize it was so late. I'm sorry I was gone so long."

Frank was on his feet before his brain had registered who had spoken.

"Joe!" he cried, lunging past his father to be the first to reach his brother, who was standing off to the side, looking sheepish. Frank grabbed him in a bear hug.

"Ooff!" Joe said as all the air was squeezed from his lungs. He felt himself being lifted off the ground. "Frank, please. Not so tight!"

Frank sat his brother back down and loosened his grip, but he refused to let go of his younger brother. Tears suddenly sprang to his eyes. "Where have you been, you little runt. I've been worried sick about you! It was starting to get late, you hadn't come back or even called. We thought something had happened."

"I'm fine," Joe assured him, returning Frank's hug. It felt good to feel affection from his brother. He didn't want him to let go. "See? No holes. Nothing broken. Still in one piece. I'd take that as a good sign."

"I guess your right." Frank grinned and realized his brother from the hug, holding him out at arm's length. He studied him, as if to make sure what Joe was saying was true.

"Sorry it took so long," Joe said sheepishly. "I went a lot further than I thought, and it was later than I expected. So it took me awhile to get back."

"That's okay, son," Fenton said, placing a hand on his younger son's shoulder. "I understand."

Joe smiled, grateful that his father hadn't chewed him out. "Thanks, Dad." Then he stared at the ground, sighed, then stared into his brother's eyes. "Frank, I'm sorry for running away like that. I knew you wanted to talk, and I did too. But I had to get away. I...I was really mad. Which was stupid. Then I caused you guys so much worry. I'm really, really sorry." I never want to hurt you again. Never.

"Don't worry about it," Frank said softly. "I'm as much to blame this whole mess on as you are. I shouldn't have yelled at you like I did, and I never, ever should have run to Nancy like that. That was just stupid on my part. You're my brother, and I should have been here with you."

"Truce?" Joe asked timidly, holding his hand out.

"Truce," Frank replied, grinning as he took Joe's hand.

Fenton smiled, feeling his spirits lift as he watched his two sons embrace each other once more. Maybe this vacation can be saved after all.

Promises Made