My son's final words to me before he backed out of the driveway were, "Hey, Mom! Do you suppose I'll run into that old guy's spirit coming east?"

"That old guy was your Great Grandfather, Eugene. The man you were named for."

"I know, I know," Gene acknowledged. "You've told me about him often enough. He's the reason I'm going West. Well, bye, Mom."

And so, because of the stories I had related over the years to my son, he was leaving. He'd heard the cry, "Go west young man, go west." My grandfather, Eugene Barkley, did not heed that cry. Instead, he headed East as a young man of twenty five, met my grandmother, raised five children, my father among them, and spent his later years, he lived to be ninety seven, telling stories of the family and territory he left behind in the late 1880's. That territory was the state of California. A much different California than my Gene was now headed for.

With plenty of paper in the printer, and a comfortable chair at my computer, I organized my thoughts. I had always wanted to write a book. There could be no more interesting story than the one told by my grandfather. There were those in the family who didn't believe a word the old man said, there were those who weren't comfortable with his story, but believed him, and there was me, a very young girl when I first heard the story, a young girl who hung on very word even though I didn't know the meaning of some of those words. I used my imagination when Grandpa talked about illegitimacy, when he explained his cowardice ways in the face of heart stopping situations. To me he was a hero. Here is his story.

"You folks," Grandpa Barkley began his story, "Can't even imagine what life was like in California in 1876. Of course, it was different for us Barkleys than a lot of people. We were quite wealthy, you know! Stinking rich, really. My father was one of the most powerful men in northern California. He owned thousands of acres of ranch land, raised cattle, horses, and vegetables. Because we were so rich, I'd been spoiled as a child, since I was the youngest of four. I liked ranch life, don't get me wrong, but I liked orderin' the hands my father hired around even more than I liked doing things myself. They did what I told them, though, up to the day my father was shot during a dispute between the ranchers and the railroad. After that, life changed a might for us Barkleys. Not that we didn't remain rich and powerful. We did. Oh boy, we sure did. Jarrod, my oldest brother was one smart cookie. Smarter than my father, really, although no one said so that I ever heard. I admired Jarrod, loved him fiercely. He was straight out of law school when our father died.

Life went on, of course, and I grew up. Not completely to the satisfaction of my strong willed mother, and certainly not to the satisfaction of my brother Nick. Nick, four years younger than Jarrod, and seven years older than me, was my secret hero. As I've said, I loved Jarrod fiercely. A man of total integrity, he had taught me many of the finer things in life. Nick wanted to teach me how to be a man, a rough and tumble he an, as he himself was. I had not been a very good pupil for Nick. In fact, my sister Audra was better at horsemanship than I. When I reached the age of nineteen, I went away to college in San Francisco. I grew even less inclined to be the kind of man Nick hoped I'd be. And then, two years later, something happened which forced my hand.

CHAPTER 1

I was home for the summer, my second year of college behind me. My mother seemed to be pleased with my grades and expressed hope for my future. It was the first time in my life I'd ever felt like anything more than just the baby of the family. My mother's name was Victoria Barkley. She could be harsh at times, but she could be very gentle as well and was being so toward me on the fifth morning after my return home for summer vacation. The occasion of her gentleness was the breakfast table, a place where the entire family who happened to be at home assembled each morning.

"Are you settling in for your stay at home, Eugene?" Mother asked me. She sat directly to my left at the head of the table.

"I guess so," I replied. "I'm winding down slowly."

"Winding down, listen to that!" Audra hooted. "I didn't know you ever got wound up about anything, Gene. You're emotionless."

Jarrod, seated at the opposite end of the table from mother, took Audra to task. "Audra, give Gene some credit. He's well on his way to being a successful veterinarian."

I glowed inside. Here was Jarrod, thirty two now, and a very respected lawyer, praising me at the breakfast table. He was a handsome man, and it pleased me when people said I resembled him. I suppose I did. We were about the same height, and I'd filled out to his weight. My hair wasn't as dark as his, but we both had blue eyes set in a rather round face.

Audra retorted to Jarrod. "I still can't believe the profession he chose, Jarrod. You have to really know your stuff to be a good vet."

Mother then came to my rescue. "Gene always loved animals. He cared more about their well being than just using them for work or food."

"And we need good animal doctors," Jarrod took up my cause.

"I haven't seen him yet," I said. "The bull that is, but he sure must be a prize, the way Nick carried on about him."

"We are expecting great things from that bull," Mother said jauntily.

"Now, Eugene, pass Audra the eggs."

I picked up the platter and extended it across the table to my sister. Someone, I don't remember who, made a further observation about the bull, and then Nick barreled his way into the dining room, bringing the news which was to change the makeup of the Barkley family.

I don't mean to be overly dramatic about it. At that moment, nothing Nick said gave any of us a clue we were in for a change. He just came into the dining room the way my second oldest brother and hero often did. In this day and age you would say he came in like a bulldozer, mowing anything and everything down which got in his way. Of course, in those days, there were no bulldozers, and so I just thought of him as being similar to the bull he'd taken such stock in. What I'm attempting to say here is that Nick came charging in while we were eating breakfast.

Nick, twenty eight at that time, was larger than life to me. Such a conception was partly due to the fact that he was a very large man. Taller than Jarrod and me, he stood 6'1". He was lean of body, hard as a rock, with a very handsome face. He had jet black hair and blue eyes. Nick was everything I thought a man should be. He was the fastest draw in our territory and everyone knew it. He rode a horse as though he'd been born on one, and, indeed, mother often told of how he'd almost been.

"Sorry I'm late, Mother," Nick apologized. Even Nick, as big and tough and roughshod as he ws, always told our mother he was sorry if he was late for a meal, and he often was. Mother, automatically, forgave him.

"That's all right, Nick. We were just speaking about your bull."

"Yes, we figured you were out crooning to him," Audra spouted off.

"Is that true what I've heard, Nick?" Jarrod took up the teasing where Audra left off. "Do you sing to that bull?"

Nick, by then having filled his plate, grinned slightly at Jarrod. They adored each other, but no one would ever guess it the way they argued. An almost constant thing, I was so accustomed to it, I barely heard it. When I did, my heart ached somehow that my relationship with either of them was on the basis they had with each other.

"I croon him a tune occasionally when I want a good performance, but I got somethin' else on my mind right now," Nick told us, gruff.

"Trouble with the ranch hands?" Jarrod asked, for he could see what we all could. Nick was preparing for a confrontation. He was stabbing at his food with jerky, quick motions and chewing angrily.

"Whatever it is, calm down, Nick," Mother said. "You're about to choke on your food."

"What's going on?" I heard my own voice enter the conversation.

"I just met a stranger out there on the South range. A real dangerous man, if I don't miss my guess."

Since we all knew Nick could size up folks, especially strangers, with accuracy, his words rang a bell in the dining room, and for a moment silenced his curious family.

The ever practical Jarrod, knowing full well that Nick seldom had the occasion to be on the range before breakfast, inquired,"And what, my friend, were you doing out there so early?"

Nick chewed on his bacon a few seconds, gulped down a cup of coffee, then growled, "Well, for whatever difference is makes, Jarrod, and it makes none, I was checking on the fences out there."

"At this hour!" Audra roared. "That's more bull than you'll ever get out of that million dollar animal you bought!"

Everyone laughed, even Mother. She then pressed Nick further. "Did your being out there so early have anything to do with the dangerous man, Nick?"

I could not hold my tongue at that point. "This sounds like a chapter out of a novel I read in school."

Nick jumped on the opportunity to tease me. "Is that what you're doin' in college, Gene? Reading fiction? You won't have the chance of a snowball in hell of being a Vet doin' that."

I snapped back at him. "I didn't say I read it in college. I said in school. Third grade stuff."

Jarrod grinned at me broadly, warming my heart, then turned to Nick. "Gene is learning to hold his own with you very nicely, don't you think?"

Nick wrinkled his brow. "Yea, well, he better be learning to shoot, if I don't miss my guess."

"I can shoot!" I whizzed a retort at my handsome, huge, hero of a brother. No more were the words out of my mouth, than I regretted them. Even to myself, I sounded childish, the very way I desperately wished not to sound to my family. My childishness appeared to go unnoticed. Mother and Jarrod looked very serious.

It was Jarrod who invited Nick to explain himself. "You'd better tell us what you're talking about, Nick."

Nick obliged. "One of the hands told me a man had been camping on the South range for several nights. I rode out this morning to introduce myself."

"And?" Jarrod prodded, when Nick stopped talking.

"And, he says, this guy out there I'm talkin' about, he says he's gonna take himself a share of this ranch."

Nowadays, talk like that would get a big laugh and nothing more. People don't declare war on other folks anymore, that is except between countries. You don't just walk up and say you're going to take a share of someone's property and be taken seriously. In those days, it was a different story. My family took Nick's words very seriously, although the immediate verbal reaction did not make it seem so.

Audra, in fact, couldn't keep from laughing. "Good Lord, Nick, you can't think one man could take a chunk of Barkley land, do you? I hope you ran him off."

Mother then weighed in. "It does seem like something of an idol threat. Did he give any indication that he might be speaking for a group?"

"Nope," Nick scowled.

"Did you ask questions?" Jarrod hounded. "Or did the fellow scare you so badly, you high tailed it for the safety of the breakfast table?"

The thought of Nick riding away from one man who had invaded our property struck me as funny. Big, strong, tough minded Nick, riding off as if he'd seen a ghost was more than I could handle and I laughed aloud. Audra joined me, and Nick turned on us with outright, frightening anger.

"Listen, you people!" My hero brother roared. "That guy means business. He's a cool, calculating character. He knows what he wants, and he plans to take it."

This was getting a might scary. There was an odd turn to it and that was even more frightening, to me anyway, than the actual threat Nick seemed to be describing. Jarrod must have felt as I did, or at least his next question to Nick indicated as much.

"Nick, calm down," Jarrod soothed. "Tell me now, what was it about this fellow that upset you so? How old is he, by the way?"

"Young," Nick spurted out. "Younger than me, I'd guess."

Everyone stared at Nick. Myself, I'd pictured a man in his middle years, maybe thirty five to forty five, somewhere in there. A big bully of a man, probably. And here was Nick talking about a fellow younger than himself.

"Is he a giant?" Audra wanted to know.

"Naw, about Jarrod's size," Nick replied, his eyes now riveted to his plate. "He's not big and he's not---hell, I don't know how to explain. There's just something about him."

I was embarrassed for Nick. I believe Audra felt the same. He was a hero to her as he was to me, and, at that moment, he appeared to have taken a fall from his throne. He sensed our feelings, I'm sure, for he said, "Don't worry about it. It's probably nothin'. I'll take care of it."

No one said a word. We finished breakfast in silence. Jarrod excused himself to go into Stockton where his office was located. The rest of us slowly disbursed. It wasn't until twenty minutes or so later that my story began its next chapter.

CHAPTER 2

>From the breakfast table, I walked through our large and rambling house. To reach the upstairs, you climbed what some visitors called a majestic, wide stairway just inside the front door. I made my way from the dining room to that stairway on that morning. I did not think of it as majestic. To me, it was only a way to get upstairs to my room where I felt inclined to go. I needed to think about Nick's fall from the top run of my ladder of respect. He hadn't fallen completely off of the ladder, just the top step.

My mind being so much on the breakfast conversation,I, once I reached my room, went immediately to the window and looked out. Maybe, I thought, I could see Nick out in the paddock or in the barn doorway. For some reason, I needed to see how he was reacting to his fall. I did not see Nick. Instead, I saw that Jarrod had not as yet departed. He was standing beside the hitched buckboard he would use to drive to Stockton, and he was in an animated discussion with a man I recognized as the fellow Nick had told us about earlier.

You will, of course, arch your eyebrows at my chose of words. I say I recognized the fellow Nick described earlier, and you are aware I'd never met the man. You are correct, I had not met him, yet, when I saw him engaged in conversation with my oldest brother, I recognized him. What I recognized him as, an enemy, a threat, a friend, a stranger who looked familiar, I can not tell you. All is knew was that I understood Nick's concern. My hero brother again occupied the top of the ladder of my respect.

Just as I came to the decision to head downstairs and out to the paddock to make the man's acquaintance myself, I saw Nick come around the bar. I watched in fascination as my brothers talked to the stranger who looked familiar, and just as I knew it would happen, Nick eventually took a punch at the man. That was my cue to run down the majestic stairway and out the door to join the battle.

What dimension of battle I expected to be joining never occurred to me. I only knew I wanted to join the fight against the stranger. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, my mother and Audra were about to go out the door, no doubt having witnessed the scene from a downstairs window. The three of us ran to the paddock. The stranger was on his feet by that time. He was holding his jaw, which had turned a deep purple. Nick did not mess around when he decided to punch someone. I was about to inquire as to what the problem was, but Mother beat me to it.

"What is it, Jarrod?" she asked the oldest and most reasonable of her children, ignoring Nick and the stranger.

"This man has quite a story to tell, Mother," Jarrod replied.

"Yea, and it's a pack of lies!" Offered a fire spitting, angry Nick.

"Well, what is it?" Mother demanded to know.

My eyes were glued to the stranger, while my ears took in the exchange between my mother and brothers. Mesmerized, I could not pull my gaze from him. Who was it he looked like? Audra, that's who. He was a he man version of Audra. Blond hair, blue eyes, he was a mighty handsome, well built young man. He was quiet. I had as yet to hear his voice. Mother waited for an answer from her lawyer son.

"Mother, this man claims to be Father's, uh----"

"His what? He claims to be your father's what?" My mother pressed, but she knew by then. I dare say we all did, yet the actual words were chilling.

"He says he's Father's son by another woman," the less than tactful Nick filled in the blank.

It was a full thirty seconds before anyone uttered a sound. That someone was Audra. "That can't be true!" My sister said.

"Audra's right," Nick added. "It can't be."

I centered my attention on Jarrod at that point. As I've stated, he was the most reasonable among us. Level headed in a crisis always, Jarrod held a reputation as a formidable opponent in the court room. My oldest brother would be the best one to handle this and I spoke up to say so.

"Let's rely on Jarrod here," I said. "Nick, you're too hot headed, and Audra, you don't know anything about it."

Everyone, including the stranger who claimed not to be a stranger, but the illegitimate son of my father, stared at me. Jarrod grinned slightly. Nick fumed. Audra glared and Mother, well, bless her, she gave me a semi warm glance. The stranger? I dared not form an opinion on what his eyes were saying as they gazed intently at me.

"All right," Mother agreed. "Jarrod, what should we do?"

Nick let go with a piercing oath. "Hell! What should we do? Mother, are you soft in the head? This man poses a severe threat to our family, our property---to everything the Barkleys stand for! We should drive him off of this ranch immediately!"

And then the stranger spoke. I heard his voice for the first time. I will never forget the sound of it. He spoke so low, I could barely hear him, and the melodic tone of it was shocking, shocking because his words were tough. "I'm entitled to a share of the Barkley fortune," he said. "And I'll fight for it."

Jarrod took charge. "Why don't we all go in the house? We can talk there."

We all followed along like sheep in a flock, Jarrod, lawyer like, as if he was in the middle of presenting a case, Mother, sneaking glances at a man who alleged her husband had not been faithful, Audra, muttering to herself and taking long strides, Nick, shaking his head, and still breathing fire. My observations of my family left me little time to have thoughts of my own.

When we were inside, Jarrod continued his cool handling of the situation. "Let's all sit down, shall we?"

"Audra, if you don't want in on this, got out riding or something," Mother said. "We must deal with this young man immediately. By the way," she said, directing her question to the stranger. "What is your name?"

I concentrated on the fact that a fellow was in our midst who claimed to be our half brother and we didn't even know his name. I waited for him to answer Mother.

"Heath," he finally uttered.

Heath what?" Nick prodded. "What's your last name? Everybody has a last name."

"My mother went by the name of Thomson. I've always used it, but I plan to use Barkley from now on. Heath Barkley is my name."

"Because you got some notion your father was---" Nick began.

"It's not just a notion!" the fellow named Heath raised his voice to announce. "It's a documented fact! Tom Barkley was my father!"

It was up to Jarrod to once again bring order to things before all hell broke loose. Nick gave us a glimpse of what hell's fury might be like when he reacted to the stranger who had come to tell us he wasn't a stranger after all. The second oldest in our sibling group, the hot head known as Nick, took a dive at Heath and knocked him to the floor. There were various reactions.

"Take him, Nick!" Audra yelled with unbridled glee.

"Nick, stop this immediately!" Mother ordered.

Jarrod grabbed Nick by the shoulders and struggled to pull him off. It wasn't necessary. The handsome stranger managed to free himself quite nicely. When he was out from under the larger man, he took a swing and connected with my hero brother's jaw.

For the second time in one morning, Nick had fallen off the pedestal on which I'd placed him. Never would I have imagined that someone smaller could whip him. Of course, he wasn't whipped. If they had been allowed to fight on, my hero very well may have taken Heath. The mere fact that Nick had taken a hit stunned me. It was then, while Jarrod had a hold on each of the brawlers' arms and had them separated, that I reacted. I moved forward and punched the newcomer, punched him just below the eye, and punched him as hard as I'd ever punched anyone or anything in my twenty one years of life. It hurt my hand so bad I wanted to rub it, to cry even. But I couldn't do that.

The reaction of my family to my deed was a moment of silence. I can remember, after all these years, what my thoughts were. I feared my mother would insist that I go to my room. How humiliating that would have been! A twenty one year old man being sent to his room by his mother! Victoria Barkley decided not to embarrass me---very much, that is. "That was unnecessary, Eugene," Mother calmly told me. "Jarrod has things in order."

Obviously, my mother wasn't going to tell Nick his actions were unnecessary. Just as obvious was the fact that no one, not even Audra, was going to congratulate me on a good punch. I would have spent ten days on a chain gang for just a wink from Nick to let me know he appreciated my effort to avenge the shot on the jaw he'd taken. Even more humiliating than any of that was that the stranger turned brother actually grinned at me and made no effort to strike back.

Heath made a gesture with his hand toward the front door and said, "Everything is in my saddle bag."

"Go get them, then," Jarrod said, stern, and let loose the grip he held on Heath's arm. The newcomer shook himself a bit, and then walked forcefully to the front door without a sideways or backwards glance at any of the rest of us. He opened the door and made his exit, closing it behind him. The sound of the door closing loosened all of our tongues.

"Jarrod, I'm not gonna listen to this much longer!" Nick hastened to get in the first word. "If you don't get ride of him, I will!"

"Lord, he sounds sincere," Audra said.

"He does," Jarrod frowned. "And I'm not making any move to be ride of him, Nick, until I see what he's up to."

"I'm with you, Nick," I put in my two cents worth. "He can't be---well, Father's---"

Mother interrupted my bumbling speech. "Your father was not a perfect man," she told us. "He was a good man, a fine, strong man, but, in certain ways, not perfect."

None of us missed her meaning. I could not have been more shocked. I had never heard my mother suggest my father was anything short of perfection. While he lived, and after he died, she continually portrayed him as a saint. I switched my gaze from her and shifted it from one sibling to the next. All looked as stunned as I felt. Finally, Jarrod reacted to her profound statement.

"No one is perfect, Mother, but that doesn't mean this fellow is telling the truth."

Mother smiled. "No. He should be thoroughly questioned and his story checked out, but---"

"But what?" Nick asked.

"But look at him---he so resembles Audra, and you, Jarrod. His face shape---his----"

She did not continue. The stranger who resembled some of us returned with a handful of papers. He walked in as forcefully as he'd walked out and handed the papers to Jarrod. We waited.

Chapter 3

As smart as you young people are today, you will have figured out that Heath, indeed, had the documents to prove himself to be who he claimed to be. At least, he was able to prove it to Jarrod's satisfaction. There was a letter written by my father to his mother, a letter which thanked her for loving him when he very much needed it for those two weeks which preceded, according to Heath's birth certificate, her son's birth by exactly nine months.

As for the birth certificate, it plainly stated that Tom Barkley was his father. Of course, the letter and the birth certificate could have been faked, but Jarrod believed them to be authentic. There were a couple more items offered as proof. There was a picture of my father with a woman Heath said was his mother. He had more pictures of himself as a boy and as a man with the same woman to prove she, indeed, was his mother. And---he brought to the living room that morning a family bible. In it, his mother had written the following.

"Dear Heath.
You will not see this until I'm dead or near death. I have never told you the truth about who your father was. I never married, as I told you, and your father did not die in a range war. I only knew the man who was your father for a very short time. I loved him with all my heart. He was married and had a family. He never knew of your birth. His name is Tom Barkley from over around Stockton. Your birth certificate is in my safe deposit box at the bank.
Love, Mamma."

And so with all of this as proof, the decision was made to take Heath into our family. He was twenty four years old, falling in age between Nick and myself. The family dynamic changed immediately. As for me, I was never the same. None of us were, I dare say. Mother only asked one question of Heath after Jarrod pronounced himself satisfied with the documentation which made it so clear her husband had been unfaithful for a two week occasion twenty four years earlier. "And your, uh, Momma? I assume she's dead?"

Heath nodded. "A month ago. Influenza. She handed me the bible with all of that but the birth certificate in it about two hours before she died."

"Well," Mother sighed, squaring her shoulders. "You'll need a room. I'll have one prepared for you."

Chapter 4

For at least two weeks, I desperately tried to think of a plausible reason why I needed to be somewhere else other than the Barkley ranch. Nothing was going on at school, so I could not use that for an excuse. I thought of telegramming one of my favorite professors and asking him to plot a plan with me whereby I could spend the summer in San Francisco under his private tutelage. I abandoned the idea for various reasons, mainly because I did not want to hurt my mother.

I will not give you a day to day, blow by blow description of the happenings of the first days after Heath's arrival. As you can well imagine, there were many dramatic moments, and some were even traumatic. On that first day, we all moved like puppets. Someone pulled our strings, usually Mother, and off we went to do her bidding. Jarrod actually went to his office in Stockton shortly after proclaiming Heath's documents in order. I didn't like seeing him leave, fearing we would fall into chaos when he was gone.

It was Audra who set us moving from the house that day. "Why don't you come out and see the horse Nick had broke for me, Gene?"

I stared at her. I was certain I had already seen any and all horses Audra called hers. Instead of making a stupid retort, I caught her intention, and agreed. "Sure, I've been wanting to see him."

"And I, my dear people," said Jarrod with good humor. "Have to go to work."

With that brief conversation, the three of us, Jarrod, Audra and I departed the house. Exactly what occurred immediately thereafter I can't say, but an hour later, I saw Heath working with a group of hands on a broken portion of fence close to the paddock. I also saw Nick ride off as if he were on his way to a fire. I doubted seriously if he'd be home for dinner or even for the night.

I spent an hour or so following Audra around and then decided to go inside. For the remainder of the day, mother had one thing after another for me to do. Most of them were unnecessary. She played the same game with Audra. Evening came. Time for Jarrod to come home. Time for Nick to come in, although I still doubted if he would. And, of course, time to set an extra plate at the dinner table, as Silas, our servant, was instructed to do.

Nick did not return in time for dinner and neither did Jarrod. The former offered no excuse when he came in about ten, and the latter divvied up a fairly plausible one. Jarrod claimed to have been forced to stay late in his office due to the late hour of his arrival having put him behind for the day. No one could argue the point.

At the six o'clock hour, no one was in the house except mother, Audra, and myself. There was no reason to expect Heath to come in for, as mother told my sister and me, no such plans had been made.

"I sent him out of here this morning, telling Nick to find something for him to do," mother explained. "Nothing was said about when he should come back to the house."

Audra popped off. "Well, you can bet Nick didn't tell him about dinner time."

"No, he wouldn't have," Mother agreed.

"I saw him, uh, Heath, working on some fence earlier," I told them.

"Then go see if he's still there, Gene," Mother instructed, horrifying me. "Go find him and ask him to come in for dinner."

And so the scene was set for my first verbal encounter with my half brother. I'd punched him, but I hadn't spoken directly to him. At the moment, I was the man of the house, as it appeared my older brothers were not coming home in time for the evening meal. Certainly, I wanted to protest to my mother that I did not wish to carry out her order, protest that it would be best if the fellow stayed away from our table.

I was twenty one years old. My mother was depending on me to act like a man and not a child. I'd been childish once or twice already that day. I opted at that point to be a man. "I'll see if I can find him," I said.

Mother nodded. I knew she must be suffering terribly. All day she had avoided, as we all had, any mention of the evidence of my father's unfaithfulness. All of you must be thinking that it was strange we should just take the fellow in like we did, that we didn't offer him a portion of the wealth, a trust fund, a sum payment, something other than a bedroom, a place at the table, and a full standing membership in the family Barkley. Things and thinking were simpler then, and, I suppose, Mother and Jarrod believed they had no choice.

I headed out toward the fence mending project, hoping not to find Heath, hoping he'd ridden off to town to eat in the saloon.

From a distance, I saw he was still there. The closer I came to him, the slower I walked. I reached him finally, in spite of myself. Heath acted as if he didn't see me. No one else was around. I stood there, stubbornly waiting for him to look up. While I waited I observed him at work, and saw that he was more than competent at stretching wire from post to post.

"Somethin' on your mind?" My new brother inquired at last to break the silence. He did not look at me when he spoke. "Dinner's ready at the house," I told him. "Mother sent me to tell you."

He met my eye then. "Kinda late for dinner, isn't it?" he asked.

Confused, I retorted, "Late! Six o'clock is our usual dinner hour."

Heath grinned slightly that infuriating grin he'd given me when I punched him in the house earlier. I noticed a bruised spot under his eye, and took some satisfaction in the fact I may have hurt him a little bit. "I guess you call dinner what I call supper."

The confusion lifted. Like so many people, he must consider the noon meal as dinner, I thought. And then it occurred to me he must not of had a noon meal, unless he ate with the hands and I somehow doubted it. "Yes, well, whatever you call it, it's ready," I mumbled, feeling guilty because the fellow probably was very hungry.

I stood there awkwardly, caught between the choice of walking away and leaving him to make his way to the house alone, or waiting while he finished stretching a link of fence so that I could accompany him. It was quite obvious Heath didn't care one way or the other which choice I made. I waited. Without further words being exchanged, we set out together for the house. For some reason, I suddenly wanted to ask this stranger next to me a million questions. I only asked one. "Did you have lunch, or dinner, or whatever you call it?"

"No," he said.

"Sorry," I said.

He shrugged. "I don't eat dinner lots of times when I'm workin'. Can't afford it, mostly."

His statement did nothing to ease my guilty.

We reached the front door. I faced another decision. Should I open it and invite him to enter ahead of me, or should I open it, walk in, leaving it to him to walk in behind me? What a ridiculous life this was going to be, making choices in situations which just happened naturally before that day.

I opened the door and motioned for him to enter ahead of me. He did so.

Mother came bounding down the stairs. "Oh, Heath, I'm glad Eugene found you. Dinner is ready, but if you'd like to wash up, it can wait. There's a tub prepared for you upstairs. Gene will show you."

He nodded and followed me upstairs where I showed him the tub and the room henceforth known as his. I left him to bathe.

For two days, events transpired in the Barkley home, events which I have forgotten because they were unnoteworthy. Meals I remember, because the family took to eating in shifts and pretending no such thing was occurring. Mother ate with the newest member of our family, sometimes joined by Jarrod, and sometimes by me. Audra and Nick took their meals together, and sometimes Jarrod joined them, and sometimes I did. Each morning Heath went out to work with the fence mending crew and did not return until dinner time. He went to his room immediately after the meal and did not resurface until breakfast time.

On the second morning, after Heath's departure for the day, Mother put her foot down on her family. Jarrod and I happened to be at the table with her that morning. Nick and Audra made their appearance the moment the front door closed behind Heath.

"Tonight, you will all be at the table at one time," Mother said.

"Can't," Nick announced, short.

"Pardon me!" Mother exclaimed.

Nick glared at his plate. "I can't be here tonight, Mother. And neither can Jarrod. We're gonna play poker in town."

I sneaked a peek at Jarrod. It was obvious Nick's announcement came as a surprise to him. He said so. "First I've heard of it, Nick."

Audra snickered. "Ole honest Jarrod. Even to escape having dinner with Heath, he won't lie."

She made it sound like she would have thought more of our lawyer brother had he gone along with Nick. Jarrod was unimpressed by her opinion. "Now look, I believe Mother is correct. That fellow is our brother."

"Half brother," Audra corrected.

"He is a member of this family," Jarrod went on, ignoring our sister.

"I've tried to draw him out a bit, but all I get are nods and mumblings. He must be suffering over the way we're acting toward him."

Nick could not take it any longer. He exploded. "Suffering! He comes here and demands to be cut in on a fortune. We take him in, and I'm still not sure he's who he says he is, and now you say we should treat him like he was the King of England or the President of the United States!"

Mother spoke calmly. "I suggest we all show up for dinner and try treating him like a human being."

Chapter 5

Mother's words rang in my ears all day, as I would surmise they did all of my siblings. I struggled with my mixed emotions about the situation. I had been brought up to have a sense of fair play, to be tolerant of all people. I'd also been brought up somewhat spoiled, as I've said, and was still on the childish order, as I've also stated.

Heath, although specifically invited to do so by Mother, still did not come to our table for lunch. On that day, I decided to see what he did do during the time our hands were being fed lunch in the bunkhouses.

I wandered around, pretending to be busy checking fences. My half brother worked away during the lunch break, only stopping for a drink of water from his canteen. As of the day of his arrival, I felt a stab of guilt. The urge hit me to go over and attempt to force him to eat. I shrugged it off. He was an adult. If he didn't eat lunch, he didn't eat lunch.

On my way back to the house, I caught a glimpse of Audra riding her horse. I watched her for a minute, fascinated by her ability on a mount. A stab of jealousy hit me, for I wasn't nearly as good on horseback, competent was all, but I shrugged that off as well. It was a jealousy I was accustomed to. As I turned away, it registered in my mind that Audra might be changing directions, but I didn't wait to see, because I didn't particularly care in which direction my sister rode.

The dinner hour approached. I wondered if Jarrod would come home on time, if Audra would return from her ride, and most of all, if Nick would show his face to honor Mother's wishes. I didn't hold out much hope, and Mother acted as if she wasn't particularly hopeful either.

"Have you seen Audra?" Mother questioned me around four thirty in the afternoon. We were in the kitchen at the time.

"I saw her ride off after lunch," I replied.

"That was a long time ago! I hope she didn't have an accident on that new horse of hers!"

I could offer some relief for Mother's alarm. "She wasn't on that horse. She was riding her trusty old mare."

"Oh, well then," Mother began, frowning at me. "But, still, it's a long time to ride. She must be talking to Nick somewhere on the ranch."

"Concocting a reason not to come to dinner, you mean?" I asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Mother continued to frown. Then, one of her concerns was alleviated. Audra came through the door.

"We were about to send a posse to look for you," I joked.

Audra paid me no attention as usual, and our mother made no comment. She acted typically. She rarely ranted and raved at her children when they had worried her. Once she knew her son or daughter to be safe, she dropped it. Saying she must see how dinner was coming along, she dropped her worry that something had happened to Audra on her ride. I wasn't so certain her worry had not been justified.

Blessed with a better angle to see Audra's face when she entered the door than Mother, I believed I'd seen an expression of fear on my sister's face. She hurried up the kitchen stairs without a word. When Mother was out of sight, I also went upstairs. To look for Audra.

I knocked on my sister's bedroom door. "Who is it?" she called.

"Gene."

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you, Audra," I said.

"Come in."

I opened the door and entered. Immediately, I knew I had not been mistaken. My sister was frightened about something.

"What happened, Audra?"

"I'm going to be in trouble, Gene."

Like a parrot, I repeated the inquiry. "What happened, Audra?"

"I made, uh, advances, toward Heath."

I laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Audra had put herself in jeopardy. I had always enjoyed seeing my sister in trouble. But this, with my limited knowledge of what had occurred, appeared to be real jeopardy.

"What is so funny, Gene?" Audra croaked, when I continued to hoot.

Making an attempt to regain my composure, all i could say was, "You made advances to Heath? That was stupid, Sis."

I expected the usual retort. Instead, Audra agreed with me somberly. "It surely was."

My desire to laugh deserted me. My sister was very frightened and it occurred to me I should be asking serious questions. "Tell me what happened," I invited.

Audra went to her window and turned her back to me. Staring out the window, she explained, "Well, see, I'm with Nick on this---"

"Nick told you to do it!"

"No, no, but I agree with him. Neither of us thought Heath is who he says he is."

English class came to mind. Audra had used the past tense. She'd said thought instead of think. "Go on," I said.

She did so. "I decided that if I could get him, Heath that is, to make a pass at me, I'd know for sure he wasn't my brother."

"Not necessarily," I countered. "I've heard of situations, you know, uh---"

"Well, you don't have to worry about ole Heath," Audra interrupted, so low I could barely hear her. "He's not the type."

"He didn't make a pass?"

She swung around to face me. "He told me nice girls don't try to kiss their brothers that way."

My sister had suffered an obvious embarrassment. She also was now, I could tell without inquiring, a true believer that the newcomer shared our paternity. I tried to act natural. "Well, so he's our brother then. We just have to accept it."

"I do," Audra stated with conviction. "But what's gonna happen when he tells on me?"

I shrugged. "I'll ask him not to."

There wasn't much time before dinner. As of two evenings before, I headed out toward where Heath was mending fence. He was, I saw, much further away this time. It stood to reason. You didn't stay in the same spot mending fence very long unless you were totally inept. I did not step up my pace for the longer journey. I was in no hurry.

Once again, I was going to Heath on behalf of a female member of the family. Whereas I'd been doing my mother's bidding two days before by inviting him to dinner, this was much more complicated.

What could I say to the man? I'd told Audra I would ask him not to tell anyone what she'd done earlier in the day. That was simple enough on the face of it. I had a feeling it would be far from simple to summon the courage.

I reached the fellow I now felt as sure was my brother as Audra did. Her tale of embarrassment had put the lid on what I had been inclined to believe, but had not admitted to myself. Heath was alone. He usually was, I realized, and wondered for the first time why he worked separate from the ranch hands so much of the time.

He glanced my way. "Supper ready again?"

The slight maddening grin came to his lips. I had a nearly uncontrollable urge this time to grin back at him. Maybe I did a little,

I'm not sure. "Almost, I guess, but that's not why I came."

The grin disappeared. He kept his eyes on his work. "You come to help me with the fence? You don't seem to do much around here."

My temper flared. "And what business is that of yours!" I yelled.

My mission changed. I'd noticed Heath no longer had a bruise under his eye where I'd hit him, nor a bruised jaw from Nick's punch. I set out to make new ones for him. I swung hard at him, but he was ready. He blocked the swing, and took a nice hard punch at me.

I can assure you, I'd never felt a blow like that. Like all boys and young men of that time and place, I had participated in my share of scuffles. I knew immediately this was to be no scuffle. Pain shot up and down my face like lightning flashes. Getting to my feet, I wanted to run for the house and my mother's skirts, but pride would not allow for that option, so I squared myself, fists up, to do battle. Heath, on the other hand, did not appear prepared for further confrontation. In fact, with that damnable grin on his face again, he started to walk away. I lost all sense of reason.

Instead of leaving well enough alone, I foolishly courted disaster. I lunged at him from the back. He, no doubt believing I was smarter than to do such a thing, wasn't expecting it. He fell to the ground under my weight. We wrestled briefly. A brief time was all he needed to get turned over and begin the process of getting out from beneath me. What would have happened next I don't know, for, fortunately for me, Jarrod appeared out of nowhere.

"You'd best teach this boy a few things, or he's likely to get himself killed," Heath told Jarrod, slightly breathless.

As for me, I was totally winded after my struggle with the much stronger fellow. Jarrod looked at Heath for a moment, digesting the man's statement. He then looked at me, and I met his eye. There was a twinkle there. "You don't suppose he could be correct, do you, Gene? Do you need some lessons?"

Having caught my breath a bit, I spoke. "I can take care of myself," I said. "And it looks like I'm going to need to."

The ever practical Jarrod said, "I don't know what this is all about, but, we don't settle disagreements among ourselves with our fists. You know that, Gene, and Heath, you're going to have to learn. Now, let's all see if dinner's ready."

Heath smiled at Jarrod, not that infuriating grin, but an actual smile.

Jarrod smiled in return. Somehow a bond was being formed between them. A sense of sadness, dread, dislike, and, or I don't know what all, came over me. We all headed to the house, my mission of stopping Heath from telling on Audra unaccomplished.

I walked ahead of the other two, but not far enough ahead that I couldn't easily hear any conversation they might engage in. There was none until we were only yards away from the front door. Jarrod posed a question to the other man at that time.

"Are you working on that fence all alone, Heath? When I've had the chance to look out that way, you always seem to be the only one there."

Since I'd been curious about the same matter, I listened for his reply. It came readily enough. "They don't like me around."

I sensed that Jarrod had stopped walking, and that Heath had stopped as well. If I continued, I wouldn't be able to hear the conversation. I allowed my curiosity its head, stopped, turned around and listened. Jarrod responded. "Don't like you around! How would they know? You've only been here a short while."

Heath was forthcoming with a reasonable explanation. "They know I sleep in the house. They know who I am 'cause I told 'em. They know Nick don't believe me, don't like me, and so they don't either. As soon as they can get away from me, they do."

So that was why he didn't eat with the hands! The revelation hit me like a bullet. The fellow had been skipping lunch at both the house and with the hands because he didn't want to antagonize them further. The feeling of guilt I'd had on the day of his arrival returned, but didn't stay long. My sore race overrode it. I turned back to the front door. As I did so, I heard Jarrod speak.

"I'll talk to Nick about it," said my lawyer brother. "Let's get cleaned up for dinner."

Audra was nowhere to be seen when we entered the house. I wanted to warn her I'd had bad luck in my attempt to keep him from squealing on her. Jarrod and Heath went upstairs immediately. I supposed Audra was still in her room. I did not want to go there and have Jarrod curious as to what we were up to. I wandered into the game room. Nick was there shooting pool.

"Hey, Gene!" Nick greeted me. "Want to take a few shots with me before dinner?"

Astounded, the cat had my tongue for several seconds. Finally, I said, "Shots? Of pool you mean?"

Nick bellowed. "What did you think I meant? Whiskey?"

I mumbled. "I know what you mean."

By then, my hero brother had caught a good glimpse of my face. "What the hell happened to you!"

I played dumb. "Nothing. What do you mean?"

"Your face, that's what I mean! Who you been fightin' with?"

"It's not important," I told him. "Come on, let's shoot. I feel lucky."

That was an out and out lie If I'd ever spoken one. I had never been able to beat Nick at pool and I surely didn't feel lucky. I selected a tool with which to hit the balls on the table from the fancy rack where they hung. Nick was having none of it. "Wait a minute!" he roared at me. "You've been into it with that---that---"

"Eugene and Heath had a minor disagreement, that's all," said Jarrod from the doorway.

I turned to see the eldest of my siblings there, the newcomer to our family standing beside him. It came to my mind that perhaps we would all be at mother's dinner table after all. Such a thought reminded me that Audra was nowhere to be seen as yet. Now would be a good time, I decided, to go upstairs and see if she was still in her room. "I've got something to do upstairs," I said, and started to make my departure.

Nick caught my arm. "You just hang on, Gene. I want to know what the problem was between you and----Heath."

"This can wait, Nick," Jarrod said in an even tone.

Nick glared at Jarrod. I felt heartsick. Although I'd always been jealous of the bond between my brothers, I now believed I could foresee an erosion of that bond. And all because of the fair haired stranger turned half brother.

Mother appeared in the doorway. "I see we're all here. How nice. Dinner is ready."

"Audra isn't here," I said.

"She's in the dining room, Dear," Mother said. "Waiting on us."

We all trained to the dining room. Jarrod put his arm across Heath's shoulder, and, to my delight, Nick put his arm around my shoulders.

Floating along in sheer ecstasy the few feet to the dining room, I was thrilled because Nick seemed to be going to hold on on embracing the new fellow to his buxom a while longer. Jarrod could be foolish if he wanted to be. It would be Jarrod and Heath against Nick and me. Fine! Nick was my hero. We would grow closer. Maybe Heath's coming had helped me! I felt good, but was to be quickly brought back to earth at the sight of Audra's face. Or, I should say, the sight of Audra's face when she saw my face. My savvy sister knew by the sight of me there had been trouble. I gave her a slight shake of my head to indicate things had not gone as I'd hoped with Heath.

Mother, ironically, had not as yet noticed my bruises. When she came to the game room to announce dinner, I did not look directly at her. Since she had walked in front of me to the dining room, she hadn't experienced the pleasure of seeing my face. She noticed them directly after she pointed out to Heath where he should sit at the table when the entire family was assembled.

"Eugene!" my mother exclaimed, as soon as we were seated. "Whatever happened to you?"

Jarrod piped up before I could open my mouth. "Gene ran into something, Mother. He's embarrassed about it, so let's not make it worse by talking about it."

No one, least of all Mother, was fooled by the words of the lawyer in the family. Jarrod did make it clear by his tone that the matter should be dropped. It was. Mother changed the subject immediately. "Let's pass the roast pork then, shall we? Nick, the platter is closest to you. Start it around. Audra, pass the potatoes, please."

It was a show mother was putting on, of course. Ordinarily, the food was automatically passed, conversation flowed naturally, and everyone was at ease. This was no ordinary occasion. The dishes began to make the rounds, but there was no conversation. Silence was totally out of character for Audra and Nick. I watched their body language. Audra was trying not to show her fear. She definitely was avoiding even the most casual glance at Heath. Nick looked bemused, I thought, looked as if he might burst into laughter at any moment. At the same time, if possible, he appeared to be on the verge of upsetting the table just for the hell of it, so difficult was it for him to be taking a meal with and directly across the table from Heath.

Jarrod grew weary of the lack of verbal exchange first. He engaged Nick in conversation. "So, how's that bull of yours?"

Nick grumbled a response. "The bull is performing with excellent efficiency."

Mother took up on it. "That's very good, Nick. I'm glad to hear there are no problems."

Jarrod, chopping away at his meat, took advantage of the door mother had opened in the discussion. "Well, there may not be any problems with the bull, but you do have a problem, don't you, Nick?"

I stopped breathing. Oh, not literally, of course, but it certainly felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. Jarrod was set to confront Nick about the hands' treatment of Heath. We were in for a very interesting dinner.

"No problems that I know of," Nick answered calmly. There had been time for the fast eating second son in the family to finish his first helping of food. As he replied to Jarrod's question, he reached his long, powerful arm out to retrieve the meat platter with the intent of serving himself a second helping. Evidently, Heath also was ready for another serving. Jarrod did not notice what was about to occur. Either that or he chose to ignore it. I don't know which. He spoke again.

"You're not aware that the men Heath's working with are not treating him as they should?"

By that time, both Nick and Heath had placed their hands on the meat platter. For what seemed like an eternity, neither removed his hands, then both did. Then, they both reached out again, as if they believed the other fellow was allowing him to go first. It was a hilarious scene, while at the same time one that was potentially explosive. I looked at Audra. I didn't believe she could keep quiet much longer. She did not.

"You two need someone to referee who gets to go first?" my sister asked, laughing. Evidently, I thought, she felt more at ease about her own situation. She then continued. "I say let Heath go first."

Heath smiled at her! "Thank you, Audra," he said in that melodic voice of his. She smiled back and I could easily read into the smile that she was grateful he had not as yet told Mother about what had happened in the afternoon.

Astounded, I kept my eyes on my plate. Audra had gone over to the other side in a public display. I wondered if she meant it completely, or if she was just attempting to butter Heath up. "If you two will decide who is going to serve himself first and do so, you can pass the platter to the rest of us. Now, Jarrod, tell us more about the problem Heath is having with the hands."

Nick nodded to the other fellow, allowing him to take the next helping of meat, but I could see he was preparing himself for battle. We ate on, silence befalling us once again. Waiting for Jarrod to honor Mother's request, I began to wonder if he intended to. Myself, I hoped he did not. My face ached beyond belief and I longed to be in the solitude of my room. No such luck. The subject came up again eventually, although the, to me at least, most unlikely source broached it.

I nearly dropped my fork. My hero brother's tone was that of the cantankerous, ornery Nick I had often seen at work. He was taunting Jarrod, daring him to dig into the trouble with Heath's working partners. Jarrod, of course, knew Nick very well. He was seldom intimidated by the brother next to him in age. Nick was stronger, a better fighter, a better shot, a better horseman, but he was not craftier in the mind. Jarrod did not back off. "I believe it should be discussed, Nick," said my lawyer brother. "But I also believe I'll leave the discussion to you and Heath."

Again, my silverware was in danger of falling from my grasp. Our only hope was for an intervention from the calm, cool voice of Mother. She said nothing. Since Audra was directly across from me, I kept my eyes on her. She did not meet my gaze. Fascinated by the turn of events, she shifted her quick glances from Nick, to Jarrod, to Heath, and back to Nick. Jarrod, when no response came from Nick, made a suggestion. "Heath," he began, "why don't you tell Nick what you told me earlier?"

Heath frowned, "Now, you mean?"

Jarrod nodded. "Sure, now. Go ahead."

As the saying goes, if looks could kill, someone would be dead. The dearly departed at that time would have been Jarrod, and it would have been the icy glare from Nick that would have been the heart stopper. "We can talk about this over drinks after dinner, Jarrod," Nick said. "No need to talk about it at the table."

Audra, her confidence returned to its full capacity, concurred. "Me, too. Tell us, Heath."

I dared to look at the newcomer. Again, he smiled warmly at Audra, smiled at her as if he thought she was the greatest invention since the buggy wheel. We were treated to the sound of his voice once more. "They're just doin' the natural thing, I reckon," he replied.

Jarrod jumped on it. "And for them the natural thing is what, Heath?" he led his witness.

Heath shrugged. "To not like me, to not accept me."

"And why do you think that is?" Jarrod continued to play the role of the family attorney at the dinner table.

"Now, wait a minute!" Nick cut into the proceedings. "You can't condemn men for not liking someone!"

"Sometimes you can," Mother's voice of reason told us. "It depends on the why of their dislike."

"You are correct, Mother," Jarrod agreed. "And why, Heath, don't the men you've been working with like or accept you?"

If I had not been squarely in Nick's corner, I might have found the conversation fascinating. I'd set in the courtroom and watched Jarrod and his counterparts at work and always enjoyed the process of getting out the facts of a case. Of course, I'd already heard Heath's explanation, but still waited anxiously to see what would happen if he repeated it at the table as Jarrod wished him to do.

Heath squirmed in his seat a bit, and looked down at his plate. "Well, they, uh, they don't like me claimin' to be a Barkley. They don't like me sleepin' in this house, then comin' out there to work with them. They asked me why the first day and I told 'em my story. They resent me, I reckon. They don't stay around where I am long, don't, uh, take lunch with me."

"So, that means you go from morning until night without eating?" Jarrod fired at Heath.

The newcomer grinned. "I don't want to upset 'em more by comin' to the house for, uh, lunch, so I don't eat. That part don't matter, really."

"Doesn't matter!" Mother exclaimed, and looked directly at me. I was drowning in guilt. "Eugene, did you realize Heath wasn't getting a noon meal?"

All eyes focused on me. I made a decision to make myself look as good as possible. "I asked him, and he said he often skipped lunch. He didn't seem to care."

Mother pursued the topic with vigor. "And did you know about the situation with the hands, that they were treating him as he says? Did you not tell me about it, as you didn't tell me he wasn't eating?"

Why me? I wondered. No doubt I should bear some of the guilt, but at the moment, I believed an unfair amount of the weight was being assigned to my shoulders. "I didn't know about the men until a little while before dinner," I said truthfully. "He was always alone when I talked to him, but I didn't know why."

Jarrod intervened. "Mother, don't blame Gene too much. Someone else at this table not only knew about it, but is the cause." Thankful to Jarrod for his effort to save me from a tongue lashing, I nevertheless dreaded what was likely to occur next.

Mother responded predictably. "You're saying, Jarrod, that Nick caused this to happen?"

Nick did not allow Jarrod the pleasure of a reply. "I did not cause it! I didn't tell those me to act in any way or the other toward him. They just don't like him. I can't help that."

"They know you don't like him!" Jarrod suddenly yelled, banging his fist on the table. His eyes were alive with venom. "You've let it be known you don't believe Heath is a Barkley and----"

"He's not!" Nick interrupted. "He don't belong here! And even if Father---"

No one spoke as Nick's words died in his throat. I don't know to this day what he was about to say. I suppose he was going to make the very lame argument that, even if our father had carried on inappropriately with Heath's mother, the resulting child wasn't really a Barkley because he was born out of wedlock.

"That will be enough," Mother's calm voice soothed.

"Yes, it will," Jarrod concurred. "And now, Heath, I want you to tell Nick what you would enjoy doing around the ranch. Nick, I want you to see if you can oblige."

I fully expected Nick to remind Jarrod that he was in charge of the ranch and would appreciate it if Jarrod would butt out. My hero brother grew strangely quiet. He gave Jarrod a quick nod, then Jarrod turned to Heath and gave him a nod. We waited for Heath to take center stage again, waited for him to tell Nick and the rest of us how he wanted to spend his time on the ranch.

"I'm best with horses," he began in that soft voice of his. "I can break broncs as good as anybody you got here."

Nick, I saw, watched and listened carefully. "That's sayin' a lot!" my hero brother gave his opinion. "We got a fellow here who rode broncs for a rodeo. And I'm not half bad at it myself."

Heath shrugged. "And I like to work with cattle. Been on several drives. Don't mind the work."

There was a hint of mischief in Jarrod's voice when he said, "There you are, Nick. You have a couple of choices. Horses and cattle. Two of our largest projects, wouldn't you say?"

My gaze rested on Nick, as did Audra's, Jarrod's, Mother's, and the one pitching his desires. Nick was near to bursting with frustration. He was being cornered, something he despised. "All right," he finally responded. "You can start tomorrow with the hands working the cattle. We've got a new bull, and we're concentratin' on breeding."

It was not lost on me, or on anyone else I don't imagine, that Nick had not chosen a horse related job for Heath. The man said he was best at that and Nick did not wish to show him off at his best.

Heath displayed no disappointment at the choice. "I'll be there, if you'll tell me where there is," the soft spoken one said.

"On the north range. We start at eight," Nick growled.

The meal was finished. No one was eating. I vaguely wondered if someone, Mother or Jarrod probably, would invite Heath to stay downstairs and spend the evening in the game room, rather than to allow him to go immediately upstairs to his room. No more had it crossed my mind, than Mother did just that. "Why don't we go to the game room and perhaps, Nick, you can tell Heath more about what he'll be doing tomorrow."

The explosion which followed came out of the blue. No one was expecting it. I still shudder when I recall how frightening it was. Oh, there was no earthquake, no bomb, nothing like that. The explosion came from my hero brother, from Nick. He abruptly pushed back from the table with such force, such quickness, that everything on the table, food, china, silverware, everything, crashed to the dining room floor.

The clatter and the rattle, the falling, the spilling, seemed to go on forever. Nick did not take a moment to listen, however. Without pause to contemplate the havoc he had wreaked, he began shouting, "I have a notion to put a gun to all of your heads right now! What's the matter with you people! This, this, impostor doesn't belong here! He's no kin to us! I can't believe you're all so calm about it!"

Nick paused in his speech. We all stood around watching him, mesmerized by his outrage. Mother moved to stand next to Audra. When there was trouble, she always moved to protect the most vulnerable. No one tried to restrain Nick. I was surprised that Jarrod said nothing. And no one made a move to pick up the incredible mess on the floor. Then, my name came up.

"I can't believe you, Mother!" Nick raved on. "Look at Gene's face! You asked about it, but then you let Jarrod talk you out of questioning Gene further. Now, I'll bet my last dollar this fellow here hit him. Don't you care! Don't any of you care! He did hit you, didn't he, Eugene?"

Again, I expected intervention from Jarrod. He'd done so in the game room before dinner. It occurred to me my oldest brother did not know the exact reason for my encounter with Heath, unless, of course, when they were upstairs together earlier, Heath had told him about Audra's scheme to learn if Heath was truly our brother.

"Well, Gene!" Nick roared at me after a few seconds of silence. "He did hit you, didn't he?"

There appeared to be no intervention forthcoming. I answered. "Yes."

Nick's eyes shone with love for me. I let him know with my eyes that I loved him and would stand with him. Audra then changed the direction the evening was headed. "And I think I know why," she boldly proclaimed.

Mother spoke for the first time since Nick's tirade began. "Why, Audra?"

Audra blurted out the truth. "Gene went out to, uh, do me a favor, to get Heath not to tell on me, and, uh, they must have fought about it."

"Tell on you!" someone said. I believe Mother said it, I feel reasonable certain Jarrod said it, and I'm positive Nick said it, because it was on the latter's face that I focused.

"For doing what?" Jarrod pursued the subject.

I was terribly embarrassed for Audra. It had appeared as though we were about to finish dinner without the subject of her making a fool of herself with Heath coming up, and now, thanks to Nick's temper tantrum, it was all about to come out.

Mother saw her daughter's distress. "Would you like to speak to me in private about it, Audra?"

Bless Mother's heart, I thought. She would handle this. My sense of relief was short lived. "No, Mother," Audra said. "I think it's best I tell it to one and all, especially Nick."

"Well, tell it then!" Nick blared.

Audra did so. "I went out to where Heath was this afternoon to, to test him."

I figured everyone would catch on right away, but I suppose that was because I was already privy to what my sister was trying to say. No one else in the room, except Heath, comprehended as yet.

"Test him, Audra?" Jarrod inquired, lawyer like. "And what was this test all about?"

"To see if he would, uh, well----"

"She tried to kiss me," Heath's voice rang out. "She put her hands on me, tried to kiss me in the hopes I would kiss her back. She wanted to prove I'm not really her brother."

So, there it was. Out in the open. I, and everyone else, stared at Heath. He wore that slight grin which so infuriated me. When there was no immediate verbal reaction, he went on to explain why he'd smashed my face. "Eugene came out, I guess to talk about it, but, well, when I told him what I thought, he wanted to fight. So, I hit him."

"I'll get Silas to clean up this mess," Mother said, barely above a whisper. We dispersed quickly, all going to our separate rooms.

CHAPTER 6

Sleep would not come for me that night. My face ached like the devil. The scene at the dinner table played and replayed in my mind. Around two in the morning, my bedroom door opened and Nick came in. It was the first time in many a moon my hero brother had been to my room. He looked like I felt.

"Are you awake, Gene?" he whispered. A whisper for Nick was approximately the same volume as speaking in a normal tone of voice for anyone else.

"I'm awake," I assured him. "How could I sleep?"

He flopped down on my bed. "Quite a night, wasn't it, Kid?"

I almost told him that, yes, thanks to him it had been, but I didn't, because I was, in my heart, still sympathetic to his viewpoint. Instead, I replied simply. "Sure was."

"Tell me more about Audra, more about what she did," Nick requested. I sat up in bed. "Why don't you ask her what happened?"

"Because I have a feeling she's, uh----"

"She believes it, Nick," I cut in, knowing what he was trying to say. "She believes Heath is our brother."

"What exactly happened?"

"She, uh, well, she called it making advances. You heard what he said. He told her nice girls don't do that."

I could see Nick's eyes open wide in the limited light in the room. I expected him to spurt out reasons why Heath's reaction might not mean what it seemed to. He fooled me. "What do you think, Gene?"

"What do I think?"

"Yea. Do you believe him?"

I answered honestly. "Yes, I believe him, but that doesn't mean we have to just accept him."

Nick grinned, warming my heart. "You dog gone bet it don't!" he hooted. "Hey, Gene, why don't you work more with the cattle? You can start tomorrow."

I caught his meaning. He wanted me as an ally. He was taking me into his confidence was my hero brother. I grinned at him. "I'll be there."

I arose from my bed at five thirty, having not slept a wink. No one else was about as I raided the kitchen for a bit of breakfast, and no one was about when I left the house for the north range on my gelding Boots. Conversation and explanations for my actions did not appeal to me. Naturally, at some point during the summer I would have worked with Nick somewhere on the ranch. I had done so since I'd been old enough to be of assistance. As I've explained before, I had never been pushed hard owing to my status as the baby of the family. Actually, I loved being out on the range, and, I loved working with and being with the animals. I wasn't very far along in my studies of veterinary medicine, but it interested me immensely. Maybe there would be something I could really help Nick with along these lines. I patted Boots as he obeyed my command to gallop. I felt good that morning, despite my lack of sleep. There can be no denying part of my exuberance came from the expectation of what my hero brother planned for our half brother. Certainly, Nick would make the day and following days as difficult for Heath as he possibly could. How long would Heath take it? I didn't know and didn't really care at that point.

In the distance, I saw the herd. Near it, I saw several men on horseback. From where I was I could not as yet tell who they were. I galloped on, supposing they were early birds among the hands. As I drew closer, I recognized Nick. Closer still, I recognized the flannel shirt Heath wore to work in. So, I wasn't so early after all. I spurred my horse. In a few minutes I joined Nick, Heath, and three of our hands.

The hands nodded my way as I joined them. Nick gave me a quick grin."You made it, did you, Gene?"

"I made it," I agreed, not looking at Heath.

"Fellows, this is my youngest brother Eugene, in case you don't know. Gene, this is Coot, Bill, and Joe."

I acknowledged the introduction, wondering how Heath had been introduced, or if he had. I gave Coot, Bill, and Joe each a quick nod as Nick pointed to them. My hero brother, and more than skilled ranch manager, got down to the business of the day. I still had not given the slightest glance toward Heath. I could not help but notice the three hands were not including him in their eye contact ring, nor was Nick paying him any attention as he went over what he had on the day's agenda. This was going to be fun!

Nick finished reciting his expectations for the cattle crew. We were to move the herd we were with at the moment over to another spot, where another herd was now grazing. The bull, my hero brother explained, was with that herd. We were to leave this herd with Nick's pride and joy and move the other group of cattle back to our starting point.

"It'll be a full day's work," Nick told us, just as if we could not figure that out for ourselves. "These critters are cantankerous."

"Okay, boss," one of the three hands said. I don't remember which one it was because Nick's next statement so shocked me, it knocked out the memory of who said what just prior to it.

"I'm not the boss out here anymore, fellas," Nick intoned. "My brother here, Heath, is your foreman from now on."

My stomach turned over. I took a firm grip on my saddle horn so that I would not fall off of my horse. What was going on! I did not look at Nick. I felt utterly betrayed! What had happened to my hero over night? Had he been joking, teasing, taunting, when he talked to me in the wee hours? I did venture a glance at Heath. His face showed no sign of emotion one way or the other. He did not meet my eye.

Nick spurred his mount. "It's all yours, Heath. You fellas do what he tells you now."

It was with my hero's parting shot that I caught on to the game. Of course, the wink he gave me as he rode off helped. He'd put Heath in charge so that the hands and I could disobey his every order, so that we could frustrate him into giving up and riding off into the sunset. My good humor returned.

Heath did not take long in asserting his new authority. "All right, let's get these beasts movin'."

The three hands, Coot, Bill, and Joe took their sweet time about responding. I kept Boots reigned to the spot. Finally, as if in slow motion, we all acted on the order. Heath already had the cattle in the mood to travel. He seemed to be paying our reluctance to join him little attention. That would not do.

Despite my intention, which was very much intact, to aggravate my half brother at every turn, I saw very quickly that Heath was more than adept at the job assigned to him. He could have, it appeared to me, moved the herd of cattle all by himself. His horse was a well trained cutting horse, and I did not doubt he had trained the animal himself. The moves Heath made, in harmony with his steed, were perfect. He was always in the right place at the right time. If one of the animals even so much as hinted it was about to separate from the herd, he was there to change its mind. I pulled myself up short at one point to keep my admiration from getting out of hand. I did not matter how good he was at his work, plenty of people were good at it. Nick was among the best, and the three hands working the cattle that morning all were experts. The hands were not doing nearly as much as they were capable of. All three were laying back. I wondered if they, too, were admiring Heath's ability, but I dared not say anything. As for me, well, I was of two minds. On the one hand, I wanted to show Heath what I could do. On the other hand, I believed I was there to stymie his efforts. The latter alternative still held the upper hand. Like the others, I laid back and forced Heath to do most of the work.

We reached the second herd around eleven thirty that morning. I don't believe it took a minute longer to accomplish the job than it would have if all of us had worked as hard as Heath. He didn't seem any worse for the wear.

"We need to keep the herds separate so they don't mix and we leave some behind we should be takin' back," Heath told us mildly.

Coot, one of the hands, was a man in his early thirties, I guessed. I'd not seen him before that morning. He had red hair and freckles. He was of medium build but quite muscular. I learned at that point he had a sense of humor. "That's good, Heath! Good thinkin'. We'll keep 'em separated for ya. C'mon boys!"

The three hands, led by Coot, began driving the cattle we had brought from the other site, driving them in and among the herd being serviced by the bull. Again, I was of two minds. I was a Barkley, and that made me automatically wish to do things correctly, to do what was the most efficient way to get the job done, to do what was best for the ranch and the family. I paused a moment to wonder what Nick would want me to do. After giving it consideration, I rode in to help the hands create bedlam. I soon learned that I didn't as yet know what bedlam was.

We drove the cattle this way and that for fifteen minutes or so, mixing them together. Heath worked just as hard, I took note, to keep the two herds separate. It occurred to me he could have rode away at any time, thrown up his hands in disgust. He showed no tendency toward that option. Another thing which registered in my brain was that Heath was singling out one of us to observe. That one of us was me. Finally, he took action. My half brother positioned his horse directly in front of mine as I made a turn to head off one or two cattle. We both reigned in.

"Get off of your horse!" he ordered me.

Activities came to a halt. Coot, Bill, and Joe stopped pushing the cattle and lined up as if they were about to charge into battle. I remained in the saddle. This was one order I had no intention of obeying. Heath, as you might imagine, disagreed with my decision. Sliding from his horse, he dropped the reigns to the ground.

The horse stood perfectly still. My heart pounded. If this was to be another fist fight, I knew I stood as much chance of winning as a snowball in hell.

"Get down here!" Heath barked at me. "We need to talk."

Talk. Not fight. Talk. I shot a glance at the three ranch hands. Their expression revealed nothing of what they thought I should do. Why should they care? I reminded myself. They just work here. No doubt they were only following Nick's orders to make Heath as miserable as possible. I threw my leg over the saddle and got off of my mount. Not trusting Boots as much as Heath trusted his horse, I held on to the reigns.

We stood face to face, my half brother and me. "We've got work to do," I said mildly.

He grinned that maddening grin of his. "Yea, and these other guys are makin' that work twice as hard as it should be."

Sounding stupid, I responded. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're mixin' the herds," he said. "And on purpose too, it looks like to me. Now, these other guys don't have anything in it, they're just havin' some fun at my expense. You, though, you ought to be ashamed."

So, he'd read the situation perfectly. I didn't know if he realized Nick was behind it all. I almost blurted it out, but then something caught my eye, something coming at me fast from the right, something huge and mean. Nick's bull. I dropped the reigns and ran, the bull after me.

Boots, my gelding, took off as if possessed, quickly getting out of my reach. The bull pounded his hooves on the ground. I knew I could not out run him. His hot breath reached me. I'd heard before and I've heard since about people who said their entire life passed before them when they faced death. Mine did not, although I did have some thoughts about not being a very handsome corpse. I did see my mother and Audra crying over me.

Mostly, I continued to have thoughts about how to save my hide. I might be going to die, but I wasn't going to lie down and roll over for the damned beast bearing down on me. Out of the corner of my eye there came to me a vision of Coot, Bill, and Joe, watching my terror as if it was a stage play. They were not going to help me. For a moment, that made me furious. They could at least try to distract the bull! They were just standing there mesmerized. I did not see Heath at that point, nor did I think of him or where he might be.

The bull caught me, bore down, and I fell to the ground face down. Instinctively, I put my arms around my head. The beast that was to do so much for our cattle project tromped on my legs and butted my back with his head. I prepared to meet my end, if one can prepare for such a thing. The end did not come. Abruptly, the bull left me without finishing the job.

"Run, Gene!" Heath yelled to me. "Get yourself out of range!"

It dawned on me what the man was doing, had done, in fact.

My feelings toward Heath changed immediately. It sounds stupid and unbelievable I know, but the man became my brother instantly in my heart, a brother I perceived to be in serious danger because of me. Oh, I had not really done anything specific to set the bull off on a temper tantrum, but if I had been doing my job correctly, helping Heath see to it the hands were doing their job correctly, the beast would not have become so agitated.

I watched for a moment Heath's struggle with the bull. The fellow had thrown down the red handkerchief. The bull was not in the least bit interested in it. Heath was his main interest now. I considered how to save my brother. Not in the best of condition after my own encounter with the animal, I didn't really want to distract the bull my way again. I couldn't outrun him, I knew.

Heath, I noticed, was not attempting to outrun him either. Instead, he was playing a game of dodge with the huge fellow. This went on for what seemed an hour, but could not have bee but a minute or two.

I suddenly remembered the other three men. They should be helping! I looked around. They were gone! Furious, I limped toward Heath and the bull. "Stay back, Gene!" My brother warned me.

Heath was exhausted. The bull could charge at any time now, and there would be nothing he could do but lay under the beast the way I had done and hope for the best. It happened then, just as I feared it would. Heath lost his footing, he fell, the bull charged.

I heard the pounding of horses hooves. I was screaming for help but barely realized it. The rider was my hero brother Nick. I stopped screaming as Nick rode up to me and dismounted. "What the hell?" he said.

"The bull went mad and came after me," I panted, frantic. "Heath got him off me. Save him, Nick!"

Heath had, by some miracle, managed to get to his feet again. He and the bull were playing the dodge game again. Nick pulled his rifle from its place on the saddle of his horse. I my weary and frantic condition, I wondered if he planned to shoot the bull or Heath.

The bull still possessed plenty of energy, still bounced around and around, back and forth, taunting poor Heath. I couldn't believe the monster of an animal did not kill my brother when he had him down. It wasn't going to be long now, I felt certain, until Heath was again on the ground, the way he kept stumbling.

Nick took aim, pulled back, took aim again, then pulled back. He looked at me hard. "How did this situation come about, Gene?" he asked me.

"I, uh, it wasn't Heath's fault," I explained. "It's a long story, Nick."

I was about to suggest to my hero brother that we should forget what caused the situation for the time being, but I could see he had done so already. He was aiming again. I had no doubt then that he intended to shoot his prize bull.

"Work him around so I get a good shot, Heath!" Nick hollered. "When I yell drop, do it!"

I watched Heath. It was quite obvious he had not realized Nick was anywhere around, so intent was he at his dramatic match of wits with the bull. He reacted. "I might be able to get away from him, Nick!"

If I live to be two hundred, I'll never forget that moment. Heath actually wanted to save that damn bull! Nick would have none of it. "No! Get his heart turned toward me! I'll yell drop, and you hit the ground! You hear?"

"I hear," Heath's answer came back to us.

I said a prayer, I'll have to admit. Heath, weak and tired as he was, did a skillful job of maneuvering the bull so that his heart would be in the sight of Nick's rifle. Nick took steady aim. "Drop!" my hero brother screamed.

Heath hit the ground. The rifle fired. For what seemed like an eternity, the bull stayed on his feet. Heath was able to scramble away so that the heavy beast would not fall on him. Then, the bull crumpled and hit the ground with a thud.

The quiet was deafening. Nick threw down the rifle and ran toward Heath.

Breathless, Heath could only mumble. "I'm all right. Are you, Gene?"

Tears came to my eyes. "I am, thanks to you," I told him. "You saved my life. It was my fault. I'm sorry I didn't do what you told me to."

He shook his head, still gasping. "Not your fault."

"Sounds like it might be my fault," said Nick.

I focused on Nick. He had, I knew, picked up on my apology to Heath and he realized something about my not following orders had caused us to nearly be killed, and caused the death of a fine, expensive specimen of a bull. And, he also realized I had not been following orders because of our unspoken, but well understood, agreement for me not to do so.

Heath reacted to Nick's statement. "You weren't here, how could it be your fault?"

Nick grimaced. "I was here all right, Heath. My stamp was on it."

I was to learn later that Heath Barkley was not an ignorant man by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, he proved over and over to be quite a savvy fellow, savvy enough at times that even Jarrod relied on his opinions and judgments about certain things. His savvy came to the front on that memorable moment in our family history. He nodded his head. Full understanding showed on his face. "You set me up for trouble," he muttered.

Nick did not put up much of an argument. "Gene here, and the hands, they knew I didn't want them to obey your orders---but---believe me, Heath, I never thought, I mean, I never dreamed anything like this would happen. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Heath remained on the ground, his breathing still labored. Nick set on his haunches, bent over him. My exhaustion had caught up with me and I had set down next to Heath. The new member of the Barkley clan looked up at Nick. That grin which had so infuriated me split his lips. This time it warmed my heart. "It won't happen again with this bull, that's for damn sure."

Nick, my hero brother, had a smile that could set all of California aglow. He flashed it then at Heath and then at me. "C'mon," he said. "Let's find your horses, and get you to the house. You both need some patchin' up and some rest."

We did make it to the house. Mother, Audra, and Jarrod fussed over us and we recovered for our ordeal quickly. At the breakfast table the next morning, I, and Heath, learned we had been in more danger than we knew. Jarrod gave us the news.

"The bull was drugged. Coot, Bill, and Joe have left the territory. They must have slipped him something to drive him mad."

I digested the statement. "Why?"

"To get rid of me for good," Heath's calm voice answered. "One way or the other."

"It's over," Jarrod said.

"Yes, it is," Mother agreed.

"Well, let's hope!" Audra added.

Nick disagreed. "Nope, not over. I need another bull. And, I need a foreman to oversee the bronc bustin'. Gene, you go to the livestock sale in San Francisco next week and pick out a bull. Heath, I hereby make you foreman over the bustin' of the broncs. Now, pass the eggs."