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Interlude
By Bet
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Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No infringement is intended in any part by the author, however, the ideas expressed within this story are copyrighted to the author.

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The Missing Scene from The 25 Graves of Midas

He woke to silence. After all the confusion of the day- strange voices, flashes of memory, vivid dreams, and pain, always pain- he could almost feel the thick silence. Where was he? How did he get here? A lantern on a rock shelf gave off a dim glow, and lit up the area around him. As awareness returned he saw rough stone walls. Was he in a cave? Then he noticed the timbering- a mine. Gathering his strengh and will, he gingerly raised himself on an elbow, trying to assess the damage. He knew he was injured; he felt a sharp stab of pain shoot through his side that took his breath away, and then he remembered the man who wanted Charger- the man with the Dutton payroll. The man who had shot Heath, and whom Heath had killed.... Everything after that was a jumble of confusion.

Heath Barkley carefully braced himself with both hands on the rough rock floor, then sat up, and pain rocketed through him. He looked down and saw the dirty bloodstained dressing that circled his middle beneath his open shirt. Apparently someone had bandaged him up, but it didn’t look like the work of a doctor, and he wondered why they had left him here. As he struggled to his feet, the agony in his side was almost unbearable, and he pressed a trembling hand firmly against the wound as he staggered toward the opening of the mine. He stayed close to the mine wall and was forced to occasionally stop to rest and regain his balance as he made his way slowly into the light. At last he saw the opening, and staggered over to it.

As Heath stood blinking in the bright sunlight he saw riders coming and felt a moment of relief. But before he could step out he heard shouting, and they began firing at him. He didn’t know what it was all about, but he knew he’d better get back out of the light. Turning abruptly, he fled

back the way he had come, his steps uncertain; falling and rising to stagger on. The shots continued, echoing in the confines of the enclosed space, as Heath struggled to move deeper into the darkness of the mine...

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Once again the thick silence embraced Heath, and he lay still under the pile of rock and rotten timbers that had fallen when the roof of the mine gave way. The interlude before the cave-in was as puzzling as what had gone before. Someone shooting at him- someone he’d never seen before; shouting, trying to kill him; all adding to the confusion of this whole day. Pushing that ore cart had taken the last of his strengh, and luckily brought down the ceiling of the mine on the shooter, and not so luckily, himself. He coughed again from the dust that hung in the still air, and struggled weakly to free himself.

It was no use. He was trapped under the heavy beams. He couldn’t feel his legs, and he wondered if this was how it would all end. He thought of his brother, Nick. He was supposed to meet Nick in Midas, and now Nick might never know what had happened to him. Hot tears stung his eyes as he thought of his brother, and of his family, but everything was growing distant and he wondered if he would just go to sleep and never wake up... His last word before darkness overcame him was a whispered plea, "Nick..."

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Nick Barkley raced Buck up to the entrance of the mine and made a flying dismount. Men were standing near the entrance, but Nick ignored them, running for the opening of the mine. He heard shots being fired, and ran into the entrance. He had barely entered when he heard a low rumbling sound- cave-in! Dust boiled out toward the entry-way, but Nick did not pause, pulling his gun from it’s holster as he plunged deeper into the darkness of the mine. He coughed violently, his lungs full of the dust that hung thickly in the still air. Where was his brother? Fear filled his heart. It couldn’t be too late, no, Heath would be all right. He had to be all right! Nick fought his way through the piles of debris that had fallen from the ceiling; the floor of the mine was covered with rock and piles of gravel, and he fought his way through and over them. As he eased his way through a narrow opening he saw the pile of rock and timbers and heard a muffled cough. Someone had been caught in the fall.

As he paused to listen he heard Heath’s final whispered "Nick", and his heart leapt. "Heath! Hang on, Heath!." He scrambled through the debris and saw his brother lying unmoving under the pile of rubble, two big beams pinning his legs. "Wait a minute, Boy! I’ll get ‘em offa you." He began throwing the debris in all directions, tearing into the pile with all his energy in his haste to get his brother free. When he came to the first big beam he lifted with all his strengh. For a moment he was afraid he might drop it on his brother, but he finally lifted it over him. The second beam was not so heavy, and soon Heath was free of the big timbers.

For a few moments after the weight was lifted from him, Heath lay still, not even trying to get up, and Nick wondered fearfully if his legs were hurt, or his back.. But there was no time to waste. He needed to get Heath out of here before anymore gave way. Reaching for his brother’s arm, he pulled it over his shoulders and lifted him to his feet. "Can you walk, Heath? Latch on and let’s get out of here before the rest of this comes down." .

Heath held on weakly around Nick’s neck, and managed to stand, almost under his own power, when Nick lifted him to his feet. He willed his legs to move, but he had no strength or control; his legs seemed to have a mind of their own. With Nick practically carrying him, he staggered slowly toward to entrance to the mine. Rocks continued to rain around them, adding to the urgency of Nick’s words.

Nick’s heart said hurry, but he knew his brother could not move any faster; it was all he could do to walk at all. He wondered again if Heath’s legs were hurt, but now was not the time to look. Just let me get him out of here, then I’ll look, he thought prayerfully. He could feel the heat radiating from Heath’s body, and he knew his brother was running a high fever. One more thing to worry about, when fear already had him tied in knots. When at last the opening to the mine was in sight, Nick breathed a sigh of relief, and they slowly made their way out into the bright sunlight.

As soon as they were out of the mine, Heath collapsed, his legs giving way as he sank to the ground. "One of you men bring me some water," Nick commanded urgently, lifting his brother’s head and looking him over for the first time as Heath lay exhausted in the dust. His brother’s face was pale, his eyelids half closed. His face was streaked with dust, his hair powdered with it, his clothes, shirt hanging open, covered with it. Nick saw the dirty, bloodstained bandage around his middle, and felt red-hot anger rise at those who had let his brother suffer without getting him any help. Fear for Heath clutched at his heart, but he pushed it away as he comforted his brother. "You’re going to be all right, Heath. You’re going to be all right," he said gently, as he helped Heath up on an elbow. He prayed that he was right.

Heath reached a trembling hand to Nick and grasped his brother’s shoulder as tightly as he could.. "Thanks, Nick," he managed, struggling to smile at his brother. As Nick placed his hand firmly over Heath’s in response, Heath closed his eyes. A tremor shook him, and he laid his head back down on the dusty ground, heaving a deep sigh that ended in a moan as his body went limp.

"Heath? Heath!" His voice echoing his fear, Nick shook his brother gently , tapping his face lightly, but there was no response. Nick quickly began to examine his brother’s injuries. He didn’t remove the bandage around his middle- he had nothing to replace it with- but he carefully pulled it away from the wound and inspected the injury. An angry red outlined the place where the bullet had entered Heath’s body, and fresh blood oozed from the wound. When he rolled him to his side to see if there was an exit wound Nick’s stomach lurched. The bullet was still in there somewhere. He felt a cold dread clutch his heart. He quickly felt his brother’s legs, checking for any deformity, but did not want to take the time for a more thorough examination. He needed to get this boy to a doctor and get that bullet out! The rest could wait, it would have to!

Nick looked up at the men standing silently watching. "Some of you men give me a hand here. One of you get my horse." They shuffled around for a minute, then a couple of them seemed to make up their minds, and they came and knelt down by Nick, while another went to lead Buck over toward where Heath was lying. They seemed almost glad for someone to take charge.

"How far is it to town?" Nick asked. He had just come from Midas, but he had no idea how far it was. At the speed he had been riding it had not taken long, but he wondered if he should get a wagon to carry his brother. Or did he have time for that?

"Only a little over a mile, I reckon," The speaker was a young man about Nick’s age, one of the men who had come forward to help. "Won’t take long to get there, if you put him on a horse. Might be kinda rough on him, though. Maybe somebody should fetch a wagon."

For just a moment, Nick considered the logistics of getting a wagon, but almost instantly decided against it. "You," he spoke to the man holding Buck, "hold him steady, while we get my brother up on him. You other fellas help me get him in the saddle, and hang on to him ‘til I can get mounted." They carefully picked Heath up, and together lifted him into the saddle, the other men holding him on Buck while Nick swung up behind the cantle.

"Thanks, boys, ‘preciate the help." Nick said hurriedly. He had leaned Heath over across the pommel of his saddle, and now gently grasping him above the dirty, bloodstained bandage, he clasped him around the chest and straightened up. Heath moaned, and stiffened momentarily, then lay silent in Nick’s arms, his head lolling against Nick’s chest, his arms and legs dangling. Nick breathed a quick prayer that he was not too late, and clucked softly to Buck.

As Nick began his journey, his horse at a fast walk, the rest of the men, not about to go into the crumbling mine after their boss, hurried on ahead and were soon out of sight. All but one. The young man who had answered his question, who had helped him with Heath, kept pace with Nick as he headed toward town.

He spoke quietly now to Nick, "Look, I reckon you’re going to need some help with your brother here, and I’d be glad to show you where the Doc lives. He’s not much, but he’s pretty good with gunshot wounds and such; he gets a lot of practice, if you know what I mean?" He grinned wryly.

Nick was grateful for the offer of help, and the companionship, offered by this stranger, and felt a small surge of comfort. "I’m Nick Barkley, this is my brother, Heath. He’s hurt pretty bad; he needs a doctor, all right, and quick. He’s got a bullet in ‘im. Those fools never took him to a doctor, never got any care for him. They just put him in that rotten hole and musta sicced Dutton onto him...," as he talked his anger grew.as he realized the full intent of the ruse. Dutton would kill Heath as ruthlessly as he had killed the other hold-up man, and the townspeople would have their revenge on the "bosses."

"I’m Tim Wood, go by Woody. I’m a newcomer to Midas, an’ I didn’t lose anybody, so maybe I can see things a little clearer than some of these folks. That mine was bad news- bad timberin’, bad air, you name it, but I don’t blame the Barkleys for it. Dutton now, he got what was comin’ to him." Woody’s face reflected his disdain.

The trip to Midas may have been only a long mile, but it seemed to Nick that it took forever; too long with his fear for his brother riding with him. Though mostly unresponsive, Heath roused a few times, writhing in pain, and his choked-off moans tore at his brother’s very soul. Nick breathed a silent prayer for Heath’s life. He couldn’t lose this brother now, now that he had become a part of him.

When they reached the outskirts of Midas, Nick let Woody lead the way to the doctor’s house. The small white house served as both a residence and office for the only doctor in town. A faded sign hung outside the side door: Dr. Wm. Shaefer M.D. They brought their horses to a halt by that door, and Woody slid off his horse and came to Buck’s side, waiting for Nick’s instructions.

"Look, if you’ll just hold him on Buck so he won’t fall while I get down, I can carry him." Gently leaning the inert Heath over the pommel again, Nick slid quickly off his horse while Woody held Heath steady, then reached up to ease his brother down and into his arms.

"Let me give you a hand with him," Woody spoke quickly, "he’s a big fella. Might be easier on ‘im," he added.

Glad for the help, Nick didn’t argue. Between them they gently lifted Heath down, Nick taking his upper body and the other man his legs. They carefully walked up the few steps leading to the office, and Nick called out, "DOCTOR- ANYBODY!" his voice sharp with anxiety.

At his call, the door opened and a stout white-haired man stood in the opening. "Bring him right on in here, boys. Looks like you’ve got trouble." He opened the door wider as he spoke, and beckoned them into what was obviously his office. An examining table stood in the middle of the room, and he directed the men to that.

"Just lay him down right there, and soon as I wash up a little we’ll see what we’ve got." He poured some water into a deep bowl and unwrapped a bar of soap, then immediately began the process.

"Doctor, I’m Nick Barkley; this is my brother, Heath. He’s got a bullet in ‘im. He was shot sometime night before last. That bullet needs to come out right now!" Nick stated tightly, watching the doctor wash his hands carefully and thoroughly. By the time he was finshed rinsing and drying them, Nick felt a little better about entrusting his brother to the care of this unknown physician; besides, what choice did he really have? Heath would die if the bullet wasn’t removed, and removed immediately.

Woody had been standing by, waiting to see if any more help was needed, and Nick turned to him now. "I don’t know how to thank you for your help- hell, you may have saved my brother’s life. It would have been a lot harder on him if you hadn’t given me a hand. If you ever need anything, ANYTHING, you’ve got it!" His voice broke on the last words.

"I’m just glad I could help. If you’ got everything under control here I’ll be goin’. Sure hope your brother makes it. Be all right if I stop by later to see how he’s doin’?" Woody’s voice rose in question.

"Better wait a couple of days, and I’ll introduce you to him. And I’ll buy you a drink, as many drinks as you want!" Nick was truly grateful for Woody’s help, and his voice lifted with gratitude and hope; the hope that Heath would still be alive in ‘a couple of days’.

As their ‘good samaritan’ left, the doctor began examining his patient. Heath lay motionless on the table, his breathing shallow and rapid. He had not shown any evidence of returning consciousness, and his face was damp and ashen. Nick knew his brother was in shock, he knew they didn’t have any time to waste. "Doc, how about a blood transfusion? Would that help him? I’ve given him blood before, so I know it wouldn’t hurt him."

"Help me get his clothes off so I can see the extent of his injuries. This bullet wound’s the main worry, but I’d feel better if I could look him over good. We’ll need to wash him up a lttle, anyway, looks like he’s been rollin’ in the dust. Then we’ll talk about a blood transfusion," he said, as he listened carefully at Heath’s chest with a stethoscope.

"Well, close. He was caught in a mine cave in.," Nick explained tersely, "as if having a bullet in him isn’t enough!

Nick and the doctor wasted little time in stripping Heath, and the doctor pulled a sheet up over his lower body while he checked the wound in his side. He examined the wound carefully, searching for an exit wound just as Nick had done, with the same results. "That bullet’s going to have to come out- no way to tell where it ended up until we go in. I’m going to have to operate, and I can’t promise you anything. I’m sorry. He’s a mighty sick boy, but he’s young and strong. We’ll just have to hope for the best... An’ a few prayers mightn’t hurt, if you’re a prayin’ man." He added. He began laying out the instruments he would need, on a tray.

"My wife always assists me with surgery, so if you’ll stick your head in that door and give her a call we can get on with it." He nodded to a door at the back of the room.

While he waited for Nick to summon his wife, the doctor checked Heath over quickly for other injuries, sponging away at the dust that coated him from head to toe. He lowered the sheet he had pulled over Heath’s lower body and carefully examined him for other serious injuries. Although Heath’s legs showed extensive bruising, the bones seemed intact. He had bruises and abrasions over much of his body from the debris that had fallen with the timbers, and as the doctor felt carefully along Heath’s ribcage he suspected some of the ribs were cracked or broken. But he couldn’t worry about that now; that would have to keep.

Seeing Nick had returned from his errand, the doctor proceeded quickly. "Well, now we’ll talk transfusion, young fella. Roll up your sleeve and lets get to it. Sit right up there on that stool; that’s it. Right up there at his side. You know how this is done, do ya?"

After taking the seat indicated, Nick had begun rolling up his sleeve before the words were out of the doctor’s mouth, and presented his bare arm to be swabbed with alcohol. After swabbing both their arms, the doctor inserted the needle in Heath’s arm first then attached the other end to Nick’s, and blood began to flow from brother to brother.

Nick murmured quietly to his brother as his blood flowed into Heath’s viens, looking hopefully for any sign that Heath could hear him. He brushed his hand lightly through his brother’s blond hair, the ‘yella’ hair he loved to tease him about, though it was no longer as fair as when Heath had first come to them, and tried to banish the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "You’re gonna be fine, Little Brother.. just rest easy. The doc’s gonna get you fixed up right now, and you’re gonna be good as new." The words stuck in his throat, and he felt a cold wave of dread in his chest. Heath had to be all right, he just had to be. He couldn’t bear to lose him.

The doctor disconnected the line from Nick’s arm, but left it in Heath’s. "That’s enough for now, but we’ll leave him hooked up in case we need to give him more blood. Are you feelin’ all right?" At Nick’s nod, he continued, "Well, son, we’re ready to begin- let’s get this boy taken care of." His wife had come quietly into the room while he was talking, carrying a large glass of orange juice, which he handed to Nick. "Drink this, young fella, just what the doctor ordered!" He smiled impishly. "Why don’t you go sit out on the steps to drink it. It’s nice outside, and the fresh air will do you good. There’s nothing more you can do for your brother right now; just don’t go too far. We may need to give him more blood."

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The minutes crept by as Nick waited for the surgery to be over, long crawling minutes that soon turned into an hour, and still no word on Heath’s condition. He had long since given up sitting, and resorted to pacing, his usual mode of activity in any stressful situation. As he paced, his mind roamed back over the events that had led up to this day. His thoughts flashed back to Heath’s arrival at the ranch. How could he ever have known that that angry boy/man would come to mean so much to him? As always, shame washed over him as he remembered how angry he had been, how he had hated this newcomer- this brother- for clouding the image of his father, his idol. For a long time, too long, he had done everything within his power to make things hard for Heath, hoping he would leave. Gradually, as he came to know him, his feelings had changed. Slowly, slowly, they had learned to give one another the benefit of the doubt, to trust each other, to be friends.

It wasn’t until Evan Miles shot Heath that Nick realized the depth of his feelings. That was the day he truly knew that he and Heath were brothers. Real brothers. That was a day he vowed he’d never forget. It shouldn’t take almost losing someone to understand how much they meant to you. And there was that terrible time in Risley’s work camp that still had the power to give both of them nightmares. His blood ran cold as he remembered the agony of watching his brother being hurt- tortured- without being able to do anything to stop it. Or the terror he’d felt before he pulled Heath out that iron box- alive- and the thankfulness after. Those desperate hours that followed, while Heath hovered between life and death as they struggled to cool him, still haunted his dreams. Oh, yes, he knew how important this brother was to him. And now, now it was as though Heath had always been with them, as though they had always been brothers. Now he could hardly remember the ranch without Heath. He breathed a silent prayer that it would always be so.

The door opened, finally, and Doctor Sheafer stood in the opening. He stretched wearily, putting his hand to his aching back.. "He’s a mighty tough boy, your brother. I was afraid there a couple of times that we were going to lose him, but he hung on. I got the bullet; maybe he’ll want it for a souvenir. But it wasn’t easy. Amazingly, it didn’t do too much damage. That young fella must have a guardian angel lookin’ out for him! I did have to make quite an incision, so he’ll be laid up for awhile. You can come in now. He’s not awake yet, but you can help me get him into a bed, and sit with him a bit if you want to. It’ll be awhile before he comes out of the anesthetic, and he’s going to be pretty groggy at first".

"He is going be all right isn’t he?" Nick’s throat felt tight with anxiety. "He seemed like he was running a pretty high fever, at least he felt awful hot to me." Nick followed the doctor eagerly into the room, his eyes seeking his brother. Heath lay motionless on the table, a blanket pulled up over his body. His eyes were closed and his breathing harsh and labored. Nick reached down and patted Heath gently on the chest, gazing thankfully at his brother, unconscious but obviously very much alive. He closed his eyes momentarily as he felt the sting of tears, and breathed a sigh of relief.

The doctor replied slowly, "Well, he’s lost a lot of blood, but the transfusion should help that. He may need more blood, if you can spare some more. We’ll wait and see how he does. He is running a pretty good fever, and we’ll have to watch that close, but gettin’ that bullet out should help there, too. He’s not out of the woods yet, but all we can do for now is keep a close eye on him and deal with any problems as they come. He has some cracked ribs, too. I wrapped them good and hopefully they won’t give him any trouble."

"Sounds like he’s having trouble breathing. Is that from his ribs being hurt?" Nick asked, his voice laden with anxiety.

"That’s from the anesthetic still in his system; nothing to worry about," the doctor said reassuringly. "His breathing should be sounding more normal pretty shortly. If you’ll give me a hand here we’ll get him into bed, and try to make him more comfortable." Between them they carefully picked Heath up and carried him into the room next door, where a bed had been prepared for him. When they had gotten him into bed, they propped him up with pillows to ease his breathing, then the doctor pulled up a light blanket and covered Heath to the chin. "We’ll just let him sleep it off. Try not to worry, Son, with any kinda luck he’s going to be just fine."

But Nick refused to be reassured. The fear he’d felt all the way back to Midas, felt, in fact, ever since Heath had failed to arrive in Midas, was still with him. He brushed his hand through his brother’s hair, then rested it on his cheek. "Shouldn’t we be doing something about his fever? He’s awful hot." he asked worridly.

"Well, we could try to cool him down a bit, if it’s worryin’ you. Wet some of those cloths we didn’t use for bandages and we’ll wipe him down a little." Dr. Shaefer gestured to the material, and Nick hastened to do his bidding. "Though I don’t reckon it’s going to be a big problem, maybe it’s best to be on the safe side. We can wash him up a little more in the process; he’s still mighty dusty. You work on his head and chest, I’ll take the rest." They pulled the blanket down and both began sponging Heath gently and carefully.

When he ran the cold cloth across his face Heath moaned softly, and tried to turn his face away, but Nick persisted, moistening the cloth and wringing it out again and again. He ran the cold cloth across his brother’s chest above the wrap, patting him gently with his other hand and listening to his raspy breathing. Maybe it didn’t seem as harsh as as it had earlier? He wiped Heath’s face again, dribbling water through his hair to cool him, running his fingers through the damp blond waves and murmuring soft words of encouragement. Maybe Heath would wake up soon. Please God!

 

 

He was in the river- his horse had fallen and he’d been thrown, and the water carried him away, water cold as ice. Heath shivered violently, and felt a terrible pain in his side. Where was Nick- did he get out? "Ni... Nic...," he tried, but his mouth was so dry. He tried to return to sleep, to get away from the pain, but he was cold; so cold. He shuddered as the pain overtook him, and bit his lip to keep from crying out. As consciousness returned, he recognized the familiar voice calling his name softly, and felt the gentle hand brushing through his hair. The voice, the touch... Nick. He was safe. Nick was here, everything would be all right now. He tried again to speak his brother’s name, but his words were unintelligible, and ended in a moan.

"Easy, Heath, you’re going to be all right, Brother!" Nick’s voice broke as he spoke softly, and his hands shook as he pulled the blanket over his now violently shivering brother. "What’s happening, doc? He’s still so hot, but he acts like he’s freezing! Can’t you do something?" Nick demanded frantically.

"Well, we could put a couple more blankets on him, but sometimes that not too good an idea either; it might just make his fever go higher. Just leave that light blanket on him and we’ll stop wiping him down with the cold cloths and see if that helps. Maybe a dry pillow would help, too. That one’s pretty well soaked." Doctor Shaefer lifted Heath’s head carefully and exchanged the wet pillow for a dry one. "He’s not fully awake, you know. He doesn’t know if he’s hot or cold. Let’s just give him a few minutes and see how he does," he said soothingly.

Within that few minutes Heath’s shivers became less violent and gradually ceased almost completely, with only an occasional tremor shaking his body. He struggled to open his eyes, mumbling words Nick couldn’t understand, and writhing as he began to feel pain. He moaned softly, grimacing.

"Doc, can you give him something for the pain?" Nick pleaded. And to his brother, he spoke gently, as the doctor busied himself preparing a syringe. "I know you’re hurting, Heath. The doc’s going to give you something for the pain right now. Just hang on, Boy," He brushed his hand through Heath’s hair. "He’s got you all fixed up, little brother; the bullet’s out. You’re going to be just fine... You rest now." Nick put his hand on Heath’s forehead to check his temperature- did he feel a little cooler?- then ran his hand through his brother’s hair again.

Heath could hear Nick’s words, but he was too busy fighting the pain that woke with him to respond to them. He held his breath as a wave of pain swept over him, crying out before he could stop himself. He gasped, then bit his lip to keep another moan of pain from escaping, writhing in agony.

"Here you go, young fella," the doctor said comfortingly, as he gave Heath an injection, "this’ll help in just a minute." He rubbed the site where he had given the injection, then patted him on the shoulder as he began to gather up the used supplies and then his instruments.

.

Nick watched Heath fight the pain with an agony that was almost as great as his brother’s, while continuing to comfort him with reassuring words and gentle hands. Heath slowly relaxed, his breathing no longer sounding so hoarse and pain-filled. As the medicine took effect he continued to relax, until at last he was able to open his eyes, eyes still clouded with confusion and pain.

At first his eyes refused to focus, and Heath stared blankly at the ceiling, then gradually his vision began to clear, and he turned his eyes and his face toward his brother’s voice. "Ni ..." It came out as a whisper; his voice didn’t seem to want to work. He tried again, "N..ick". There, that was better. "Whe’.... are...we? Wha’...happen’?" The words were slurred but understandable, and he felt a sense of triumph. His vision blurred, and he blinked his eyes hard as he tried to focus on Nick’s face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight!

But Nick looked like he was in pain. Was he hurt too? He looked kinda like Heath felt. Were those tears he saw in his brother’s eyes? What was wrong? "N..N.ick, wha.. s’matta?" Heath asked weakly, his speech still uncertain as he struggled to control his tongue. He gasped for air, then took in a couple of deep breaths Why was his mouth so dry?

"You’re what’s the matter, Boy! You just about scared the life outa me! But you’re gonna be fine now, thank God! ... Thank you, God!" Nick said fervently, his voice shaking from the strain of this long fearful day, but he’d never meant anything more in his life. He brushed a hand through the damp blond hair. "You rest now, Heath... sleep; just close those baby-blues and let big brother take care of everything. You’ll feel a lot better when you wake up." As Heath obediently closed his eyes Nick squeezed his brother’s shoulder gently and smoothed the blanket over his chest, patting him tenderly. Suddenly, tears of relief and exhaustion overwhelming him, he bent down and rested his head lightly on Heath’s, dark hair against fair, closing his wet eyes tightly.

A surge of warmth swept through Heath when he felt his brother’s nearness, and he opened eyes that were swimming with his own tears as he raised a hand to pet Nick’s hair. "Be... al..right... Nick. Don’.. worr..y." His voice faded and his eyes lost focus, then closed, as his hand dropped from Nick’s head. He heaved a deep sigh, then began breathing almost normally as he slipped into sleep- real sleep...

"It’s a little too early to be sure, he’s still running a pretty good fever, but I think your brother is going to be just fine. You get a little rest now while he’s sleeping. There’s a couch over there, and an extra blanket we didn’t use. A pillow is all you need and you’ll be all fixed up." Doctor Shaefer opened a closet door and produced the desired item, throwing pillow and blanket on the sofa. Seeing Nick’s mouth open to protest, he added sternly, "I mean it, Son. You need to rest when he does. He’s going to need you when he wakes up. Don’t worry, I’ll keep a good eye on him."

"But what if he needs me right away? Sometimes when he runs a high fever he has bad dreams. He might wake up and be...." Nick’s voice trailed off, as the doctor just shook his head. Reluctantly, Nick removed his boots and gunbelt and lay down, covering himself with the blanket. Despite his worry, exhaustion won, and sleep came almost instantly. He hardly moved from when he had lain down, except for an occasional mumbled word or jerk of his body.

Heath, too, slept, but his sleep was not peaceful for long. He twitched and moaned, muttering incoherent words as he struggled with the visions and ghosts that filled his dreams. Sometimes his words were clear, but he did not wake. Dr. Shaefer knew this restless sleep was to be expected after the trauma this young man had endured, and the anesthetic. Pain roused Heath once and the doctor quickly gave him another injection, which once again eased him into a more restful sleep. In the doctor’s view, if his fever seemed no better at least it was no worse.

Nick continued to sleep deeply, beyond hearing his brother’s troubled slumber, but the doctor did not wake him. Right now there was nothing he could do; he would be needed soon enough, Dr Shaefer thought. Let him rest.

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Dawn was breaking when Heath opened his eyes with any clarity. The pain was still there, but no longer a raging torment, merely a fact of life. His eyes roamed around the room. Nothing looked familiar, until he saw Nick sleeping soundly on a couch at the side of the room. His brother was sleeping on his back, snoring softly. It sounded like music to Heath’s ears! His lips twitched in an almost smile, and he lay quiescent, not yet ready to try to move or to talk.

As Heath lay quietly resting he heard Nick waking up. His brother was notoriously noisy in his waking, as in everything else; when Nick was awake everybody was awake. Or soon would be! Again Heath felt the warmth filling his heart, and he thanked God for giving him Nick for a brother. He watched as Nick became fully awake and looked his way. When he saw Heath watching him he had a look of delight on his face, and he gave a relieved smile as he met Heath’s eyes.

Nick yawned mightily and stretched, rolling to a sitting position on the couch, and running his hands through his hair, which hung down in his face. After sleeping the sleep of the totally exhausted for a few short hours, he had awakened to tend his brother for most of the night. He had only lain down to sleep again along toward morning when Heath had quieted. It had been a long night.

"Well, what have we here? About time you woke up, Little Brother! How you doin’? He stood and walked quickly to Heath’s side, putting a hand to his brother’s forehead to feel for fever. Heath still felt warm, but at least his head seemed clear, and the pain seemed to be in abeyance for the moment. Nick felt his heart lift with relief and hope, and some of the tension that had filled him eased.

"I’ been better, Big Brother." Heath’s voice was weak, but stronger and clearer than it had been last night. He treated his brother to a small crooked smile. "Where are we... Midas?" Seeing Nick’s nod, he continued, "Oh, yeah,... now I ’member... some fella shot me, Nick. Gotta get the bullet out...." He seemed vaguely worried by the situation, but not overly concerned.

"It’s all taken care of, Heath. The doctor’s got you all fixed up," Nick said reassuringly. "He took the bullet out yesterday, and you’re gonna be hurtin’ for awhile, but you’ll be fine. All you need to do is rest. If you’re hurtin’ the doc’ll give you some more medicine. Do you need some now?"

Heath shook his head slowly and said emphatically, "I don’ need no medicine! It always makes me feel funny, kinda like I’m floatin’, or somethin’...." His voice trailed off as he struggled to stay awake, but exhaustion won out, and his eyes closed as he dropped off to sleep again.

Nick watched with a feeling of thankfulness as his brother lost his fight to stay awake. Heath was breathing peacefully, a little fast from the fever that still lingered, but nice and steady. Nick put a hand to his brother’s cheek, checking his temperature again; did he feel little cooler? The worry that had filled him for so long was finally easing, and he allowed his thoughts to roam as he watched Heath sleep.

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"Good morning, young fella’. And how’s our patient this fine morning?" Dr. Shaefer’s cheerful greeting startled Nick, who was so lost in thought he had not heard the bedroom door open. The doctor cast a quick glance at Heath and saw that he was sleeping quietly, and he lowered his voice. "How about some breakfast, son? You oughta’ have a good appetite this morning- that boy’s looking a lot better and his breathing’s soundin’ a lot better. I think he’s turned the corner. I’m not gonna’ examine him right now, he’s finally getting some real rest. But I think we can safely say he’s out of the woods." At Nick’s uncertain look, he continued, "He’ll keep long enough for you to a have a bite to eat. We’ll leave the door open so we can hear him if he rouses. Right now you’d better come and eat before we both get in trouble with the wife." He chuckled, and led the way into a cozy kitchen.

When the doctor introduced Nick, the doctor’s wife greeted him with a warm smile and a motherly glance. "You must be starving, Mr. Barkley. I know you’ve been worried about that brother of yours, and you probably haven’t eaten a thing since he turned up missing. And I know you haven’t eaten much since you found him. Doctor told me a little about what happened. It sounds like he’s a lucky young man to be alive. I hope he’s better this morning?" Her voice rose in question.

"Yes, ma’am, he’s sleeping, sleeping real peacefully, and the Doc thinks he’s going to be just fine. I don’t know if I thanked you for helping take care of him last night, but I’m really grateful to both of you. I don’t like to think what might have happened if the doc hadn’t been here to get that bullet out," Nick said, his voice not quite steady.

They had barely sat down to breakfast when they were interrupted by a knock at the front door, and the doctor rose from the chair he had just taken to answer it. When he opened the door, a dark haired young woman, a girl, really, was standing hesitantly at the doorway. "What can I do for you, young lady? Do you need some help?" Dr. Shaefer was apparently used to being called on at any time, mealtime or not. He stood waiting patiently for her answer.

"No, well, yes. I mean, no one’s sick or hurt, but I just wondered how Mr. Barkley is? Heath. I know Mr. Barkley... his brother brought him here yesterday." She stumbled over her explanation, confronted with too many Barkleys, and blushed at her own temerity, but it was obvious she was worried about his young patient.

"Come in... it’s Nora McDonald, isn’t it? ...Heath.. .don’t believe I’ve ever heard that name before," the doctor mused. "I have great hopes for that young man. I think he’ll do just fine. But I am curious; how is it you know the boy?" As he spoke he ushered her into the kitchen, where Nick and Mrs Shaefer had continued eating.

Nick looked up as Nora came into the room, and recognized the pretty girl from the hotel who had indicated to the others she would tell him where to find Heath if they did not. He immediately rose to his feet, waiting for the doctor to introduce him. He, too, was eager to hear the details of what had happened after his brother’s arrival in Midas, and the events leading to Heath being in the mine. As he stood waiting, his mind replayed the scenes from yesterday, and he felt the anger he had put on hold begin to rise again.

"Nora McDonald, Nick Barkley. Nora’s sister and her husband... sorry, Nora," he corrected himself quickly, looking abashed, "ah, her sister owns the hotel and livery. Nora helps her." And to Nora he added, "You probably have Mr. Barkley at the hotel, since it’s the only one in town?" His voice rose in question.

The dark haired girl lowered her eyes, then raised them to look earnestly at Nick. "Mr. Barkley, I’m so sorry! I’m so ashamed of what my sister did." Without further detail she continued almost breathlessly, "Is Heath... your brother going to be all right? I’ve been terribly worried about him."

Nick answered slowly, his mind in a whirl of emotions, and addressed the last question first. "The doctor says he’s going to be fine. It’ll take awhile, but he should be as good as new." He paused, then continued, his voice rising, "Would you please tell me what your sister was thinking? My brother could have died, probably would have, if I hadn’t got him to a doctor. What did he ever do to deserve that?" he asked bitterly. "She doesn’t even know him!"

"Mr. Barkley, I don’t understand it either! All I can think is that when Mike, her husband, was killed something happened to her mind; she hasn’t really been herself since. It seems like she’s mad at everyone for Mike’s death, and looking for ways to get even. At first, when we thought your brother was the man who stole the Midas’ payroll, the money was just a way to get back at Dutton. I wanted them to take Heath...Mr. Barkley to the doctor but she said we couldn’t take him because...," her voice trailed off. Better not say that in front of the doctor-- that Dr. Shaefer would run to Dutton.

Nick held up a hand to stop her. "Look, Miss McDonald, it’ll be a lot simpler to tell this story if you use ‘Heath’, and I’m Nick. We need somewhere quiet where we can sit down and you can tell me just what happened, exactly. I want to know the whole story." Turning to Dr. Shaefer, he asked tightly, "Would it be all right to discuss this in Heath’s room? Or do you think it might be bad for him if he rouses and hears some of this?"

"Truthfully, Mr. Barkley- Nick, if that’s agreeable with you? I wouldn’t want Heath upset in any way right now, and unless you can guarantee to keep your voices down and remain calm I don’t think it’s a good idea." The doctor had quickly gotten Nick’s measure, and knew that was not likely. "Why don’t you talk in the living room; we have to finish up here in the kitchen, anyway. I haven’t even had my breakfast yet! Just close the door as you leave, I’ll keep an ear out for your brother."

"Mr. Barkley...." Nora spoke softly.

"Nick."

Nora blushed slightly, then continued, "Nick, could I see your bro...Heath? Just for a minute. I won’t disturb him; I just want to see that he’s all right. I’ve been so worried about him. I helped take care of him when he was with us, and ...." she hesitated, suddenly overcome by shyness.

Nick understood immediately where she was going with this; she was not the first young lady to have fallen under his younger brother’s spell. Even barely conscious that boy can be a charmer, Nick thought, with an inner smile. His handsome ‘little brother’ could catch most any girl’s eye, and apparently this one was no exception. Nick gravely assented, and they quietly entered the bedroom where Heath lay sleeping.

Heath did not stir, and Nick was pleased to see his brother still sleeping peacefully, his breathing soft and even. He rested his hand lightly on Heath’s cheek to check his temperature. Did he feel cooler? Maybe the fever that had hung on was finally going to break. Maybe this nightmare would soon be behind them.

Nora stood quietly looking down at Heath for a few minutes, her eyes filling with tears, then tentively reached down and ran her hand softly though his hair. She covered her face with her hands for a few moments, then swiftly ran a hand across her eyes. She looked up then, tears still clinging to her lashes, and smiled tremulously at Nick, turning to leave the room as she did.

When they left the bedroom, Nick ushered the girl through the kitchen and into the living room, carefully closing the door between. After seating her and perching himself on the arm of a chair, he began, "Now, Miss McDonald, I realize you didn’t have any say in all of this, but I want to know what happened, and I want the truth. Why did they drag my brother all over creation when he was wounded and bleeding, without taking him to a doctor? All that movin’ could have killed him. Didn’t they think of that? Or maybe they didn’t care!" As Nick’s anger rose his voice rose, too, and he stood up and began to pace.

"Please, Mr. Barkley, I know it was a terrible thing to do, but Hannah wouldn’t listen to anybody. She wouldn’t let me get the doctor. And we didn’t know Heath was your brother ‘til he woke up and told us who he was. We thought he was the robber. I know that’s no excuse... but I didn’t know what to do. When I found out, I wanted to tell you, but you’d already gone to Maranet. Hannah said...." Nora’s voice trembled with emotion as her voice trailed off.

Nick knew he was intimidating the poor girl with his restless pacing, but felt helpless to control it. "Whose idea was it to put Heath in that mine? Don’t tell me- your sister’s, right? And then somebody tipped Dutton that the hold-up man was in the mine. And since he’d never seen Heath before...." As he thought about the motive behind this act, and pictured his wounded brother’s fear and confusion, he felt his body stiffen with rage. If Heath had died....

"Mr. Bar...Nick, I really don’t know that Hannah was responsible for putting your brother in the Midas, because I was asleep. I hadn’t slept much because of tending Heath, then Hannah said she and Zach would take care of him, that I needed to rest. When I woke up, they’d taken Heath away. Hannah said you had taken him to the doctor in Maranet, but I knew she was lying..." Nora’s voice trembled, and tears were close. She didn’t tell Nick about her confrontation with Hannah. That was between the sisters.

"I’d like to have a word with that sister of yours," Nick gritted out through clenched teeth. He turned and marched back through the kitchen door, throwing it open emphatically, and addressed the startled doctor. "I need to take care of something. Will he," nodding toward the room where Heath was sleeping, "be all right if I’m gone for a little while? This won’t take long!"

"Take your time, son- he’s not going anywhere. I just checked on him; he’s sleeping like a baby. Best thing in the world for ‘im. He should sleep most of the day, I’d say. If I need you I’ll send someone to get you, but I don’t think you need to worry." Dr. Shaefer’s words and demeanor were meant to soothe, and Nick was reassured.

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With tightly controlled anger, Nick stormed out of the doctor’s house, a flushed, frightened Nora trailing in his wake. He strode swiftly up the street toward the hotel, his long legs eating up the distance. Body rigid with outrage, he was obviously in no mood to brook any interference, and passerby gave him a wide berth, looking askance as he made his way swiftly to his destination. Throwing the doors to the hotel open, Nick charged into the bar, only then pausing to look around for those he sought. Nora was on his heels, almost running to keep up, face filled with terror.

Nick Barkley angry was a sight to intimidate the strongest man, and standing halfway up the stairs, Hannah’s face blanched at his entrance. She turned to run, then acknowledging the futility of it, she turned slowly back around to face her nemesis, her face frozen with guilt and fear.

Zach, standing behind the bar, made no move to save himself. What he and Hannah had done was wrong. He had known it, and knew retribution would catch up with them. He had expected Nick Barkley ever since the men had returned from the mine with the story of what had happened out there. He knew there was no escape. He was guilty, and he found he no longer cared what happened to him; he deserved whatever punishment was to be meted out.

"Lady, you’re just lucky my brother’s going to be all right!" Nick gritted through clenched teeth, his voice fairly dripping with venom. "If he’d died from all your ‘tender lovin’ care’, I’d have you up on murder charges so fast it’d make your head spin! As it is I have half a notion to have you charged with attempted murder for what you tried to do. Who do you think you are to take the law into your own hands, anyway? My brother had nothing to do with what happened here. He didn’t even know what it was all about!"

Switching his gaze, Nick fixed Zach with a baleful stare, " And you, mister, you don’t even have the excuse that she does. You had to know that she wasn’t thinking straight, but you went along with it, anyway."

Neither Hannah nor Zach made any reply, merely standing frozen waiting for Nick to pronounce sentence on them. "I don’t know yet what I’m going to do. I’ll have to think it over, after I talk with my brother. When he’s up to talking. We’ll be staying here a few days, ‘til Heath’s able to travel, anyway. And I still want to know what caused that original cave-in that killed those men." Looking for the first time at the other townsmen assembled in the bar, he added. "If any of you’ve got any information you can come talk to me at the doctor’s. I’ll be staying there with my brother." With another scathing look for Hannah and Zach, Nick spun on his heel and departed as abruptly as he had entered. Silence filled the room.

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Heath opened his eyes and gazed in puzzlement around the room. Where was he- what had happened? Where was Nick? He was sure Nick was here... or did he just dream that? As he lay quietly resting, memory slowly returned and he tried to lift himself on an elbow. Not a good idea, Heath! His movement brought both a moan of pain, and almost immediately, Dr. Shaefer.

"Well, young fella, welcome back! You’re going to be just fine, my boy, just fine. Just don’t try to move right yet- here, let me prop you up a little bit, maybe that’ll help." He carefully lifted Heath’s head a little and slid another pillow beneath it. "That better? How about trying a little drink of water? Just a sip, mind you,‘til we know if its going to stay down, ." He lifted Heath’s head slightly, and held a cup to his lips.

Water! Heath couldn’t remember ever being so thirsty- he tried to sip, but found himself almost gulping down the clear liquid. Nothing had ever tasted so good! But that doctor was a cagey one- there was only a small bit of water in that cup, and he reached the bottom far too soon. He felt a moment of irritation- then admitted to himself that the doctor might have the right idea, as a wave of nausea swept over him. He lay very still, willing it to pass, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he waited for his stomach to settle.

"Now what did I just say, son? You’ll have to go slow for a little bit, ‘til everything settles down. We’ll try it again in a few minutes, all right? You just relax now and take some deep breaths." He patted his patient gently on the shoulder.

Heath willed himself to relax and concentrate on taking deep breaths, and the nausea soon passed, but it left him feeling weak and shaky. As he lay quietly with his eyes closed, he heard the door to his room open and a heavy tread, punctuated by the jingle of spurs, approaching the bed. He’d recognize those spurs anywhere, and he gladly opened his eyes to see Nick bending over him.

"Hey, Little Brother, how’re you doing?" And turning to the doctor, "Doc, I hope this boy isn’t giving you any trouble? I’m afraid he’s not a very good patient." Nick scowled at Heath, then broke into a big grin as he saw his brother looking at him with complete awareness and a small crooked smile.

"Well, he just woke up, so he hasn’t given me any trouble so far. He tried some water a little while ago, and decided he wasn’t quite ready for that. Of course, he was supposed to take just a sip. He got a little carried away, but no harm done." He patted Heath on the chest. "We’ll try again in a little bit."

Heath’s voice was husky from disuse and the after-effects of the anesthetic, and he tried to clear his throat. "Hey, Nick. ....wondered where you were, knew you had to be here somewhere. Didn’t think I dreamed your ugly face." He reached out a hand to his brother, grasping his arm

weakly and gazing thankfully at him.

A suspicious moisture came to Nick’s eyes, but he spoke lightly, "You sure are a lot of trouble, Boy. Where’d you be without your big brother to pick up the pieces?" He made a fist and gently grazed Heath’s stubbly jaw with it, then opening his hand, he laid it on his cheek. Heath felt much cooler, and Nick’s heart rejoiced, though he kept the frown on his face.

"Do you want to try some water again now?" The doctor held the cup in his hand, waiting for Heath’s decision. Turning to Nick, he added, "I’d like to get some fluids down him as soon as he’s up to it, and some broth when his stomach settles. I expect he’s mighty empty, and we need to get something down him if possible. Even with the transfusion, he’s lost a considerable amount of blood."

Nick took the cup from the doctor’s hand, and sat down on the edge of the bed. " What do you say, Heath? Can you give it a try? Remember, now, just a little sip at first, then if that works you can have some more. Okay?" He lifted Heath’s head, careful to raise his head slowly and as little as possible so he could still drink without choking.

After the last episode, Heath was almost afraid to try, but he knew that he needed to drink, and get some nourishment, too. He cautiously took a small sip of the water, and resisted the urge to take more. He was right; nothing had ever tasted so good! When no nausea followed immediately, he took another sip, and slowly finished the little that was in the cup. Nick lowered his head and he lay still, eyes closed, almost holding his breath while he waited to see if the nausea would return.

Nick watched Heath closely without seeming to, trying to disguise his worry with aimless conversation. He and the doctor discussed the weather, the town; anything to distract them, and Heath, from the situation at hand. When Heath opened his eyes and gave him a small crooked grin, Nick felt his gut unclench. "How about it, Little Brother? Everything all right down there?"

"Right as rain, Big Brother! How about some more?"

With Heath’s nausea seemingly under control, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, at least figuratively, and Nick proceeded to give his brother small sips of water over a period of time.

Later that morning Heath had even successfully swallowed some broth and kept it down. The atmosphere in the room had definitely lightened, and the brothers were ragging each other gently between Heath’s frequent naps. Doctor Sheafer left them to it, with instructions to Nick to call him if there were any problems.

It was now late afternoon, and Heath was sleeping deeply, his breathing slow and steady, and after the doctor assured him that he would keep an eye and an ear tuned to his patient, Nick at last felt it was safe to leave him for a little while. After all the tension and inactivity, he needed to move- he hadn’t even been able to pace for fear his tension would be communicated to Heath. Even in his condition, that boy didn’t miss much! With a last gentle pat to his sleeping brother’s shoulder, he quietly left the room.

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As dusk fell, Heath stirred, a small groan escaping his lips. He rested quietly for a moment before opening his eyes, then, remembering, looked around for Nick. He was alone, but he could hear voices in the next room. As his thoughts came into focus, he listened for Nick, but could not hear his brother’s voice. He’d recognize that voice anywhere- Nick must have gone somewhere.

As he came fully awake, he realized he had an urgent problem- one that he was going to have to address very soon. Cautiously, he tried to lift himself, but the pain that shot through his side warned him that getting up by himself was out of the question. He heaved a sigh, then reluctantly called out, "Doctor!"

The door to the bedroom opened almost immediately, and a pudgy white-haired man greeted him cheerfully, "Well, ‘bout time you woke up, young fella! I’ll bet I know what you want..." So saying, he reached under the bed, pulling out the needed item, and helped Heath with his ‘problem’. He continued to natter on while he took care of the necessary tasks, and Heath was thankful for his matter of fact manner. Afterwards, the doctor settled him back and covered him snugly with the blankets, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder before leaving the room with the chamber pot. He hated to be sick, and he sure had felt better! Yep, he could have done without this whole trip- what he could remember of it! And that’s not much, he thought with some surprise.

As he lay mulling over what he could remember of this ill-fated trip, his heart lifted as a familiar voice joined the ones in the next room. Nick! Heath felt a wave of relief sweep over him at his brother’s presence. Nick would take care of everything. All he had to do was lie back and rest; at the moment that was all he wanted to do, rest and feel better. The pain had begun to rouse again, too, and with it his restlessness. The doctor had returned and was stirring something in a glass. Heath almost welcomed the medicine when it was offered, though he had always hated the taste. Even though it was followed by a glass of water, the aftertaste always lingered.

Now he heard a new voice join with Nick’s in the other room. It sounded like a woman’s voice; something about it was familiar, but he was sure it was not the doctor’s wife. The sound of it was too light and high-pitched to be hers. While he was contemplating this, the voices moved toward the room he was in, and he recognized his brother’s heavy footsteps accompanied by the jingle of spurs. No doubt about who that is, Heath thought with an inner smile. Brother Nick was sure not one to hide his light under a bushel!

Nick stepped through the doorway, ushering a young, dark-haired woman into the room ahead of him. She’s beautiful, Heath thought, and he had the feeling he’d seen her before, though he couldn’t remember where. He had a moment of chagrin, as he realized how he must look, and he wasn’t even dressed! He was definitely not up for this kind of company! He pulled the blanket more tightly up under his chin.

Nick greeted Heath with a broad smile, and devilment in his eyes. "See, what did I tell you, Nora? He’s practically as good as new! Hi, Little Brother, nice to see you looking all bright eyed and rosy cheeked!" he smirked. This in reference to Heath’s obvious embarassment at the presence of Nora when he did not consider himself fit for any company, let alone an attractive young woman.

Heath greeted his brother with silence and a cool look, then turned his gaze to the dark-haired young woman. He felt like he should know her. Again he thought there was something about her so familiar. But he couldn’t make his mind work, and he relaxed into the bed, waiting Nick out. He knew he’d find out who she was soon enough. Nick wouldn’t be able to keep it to himself much longer. He knew his brother very well!

When Heath continued to look silently at Nick, Nick gave in, ruffling Heath’s hair and grinning again. "This is Miss Nora McDonald, Heath. We owe her big time. She helped take care of you when you rode in here and fell out of your saddle. I think she may even have saved your life. Do you remember anything at all about it? I mean about being here? Any of it? Before you woke up here at the Doc’s, that is?"

"I’m pleased to meet you, Miss McDonald. I’m Heath Barkley, but I guess you already know that. Nora? I think I sorta remember you, the name anyway, but everything is kinda fuzzy in my mind. I’m afraid I’m not thinkin’ too good right now, but maybe when you come back I’ll have it all straight in my head." He did know he wanted this girl to come back; he was sure of that much. "Thank you for takin’ care of me," he added, giving her a small crooked smile as he stifled a yawn.

It was apparent that Heath was rapidly running out of steam. Not that he’d had that much to begin with, Nick thought. He tucked the blankets more tightly around Heath. "Go back to sleep, Sleepin’ Beauty! I’ll be back in a little bit." He patted his brother gently on the chest, then took Nora’s arm and escorted her from the room, leaving the door open behind him.

For a short while, Heath tried to listen to the comforting sounds of conversation going on in the next room, but soon lost track of it as his tired body and mind slid toward sleep. When Nick returned in just a few minutes Heath was already sound asleep, sprawled out on the bed seemingly as relaxed as though he were in his own bed back at the ranch.

Nick gazed tenderly at his younger brother, and thanked God once again for His many blessings. He knew how close they had come, all of them, to tragedy. His thoughts turned again to the events of yesterday. Was it only yesterday? It seemed such a long time ago... After listening to Nora, and asking questions around town today of whoever would talk to him, he had a better idea of what had happened, and why, but couldn’t decide what action, if any, to take against Hannah and Zach. Despite his own outrage, he knew he’d have to discuss it with Heath before any decision could be made, but this boy was in no shape to worry about any of that, not yet.

As he watched Heath sleep, he suddenly realized how tired he, himself, was. He felt like he could sleep for a week! Taking off his boots and gunbelt, he wearily lay down again on the sofa, stretching his aching body out full length- though he had to practically drape his legs over the end of the couch to do it, and pulled the blanket up over his chest. He joined Heath in sleep within moments.

It was a quiet night. The brothers were exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and both slept heavily. Heath roused a few times, needing care or medicine for the pain, but with the security of Nick’s presence, he was able to fall back into sleep fairly quickly. The crowing of a rooster woke them both just as dawn was lighting up a cloudless sky, giving promise of a beautiful new day.

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Three days had passed since the day Nick had brought Heath to the doctor’s, with Heath growing stronger and more contentious every day, or so it seemed to Nick. Nora had come to visit for a short while each day, sometimes more than once, with her visits gradually increasing in length, and the brothers, especially Heath, were beginning to feel very comfortable with her presence. For the rapidly recovering Heath, she was a breath of fresh air, acting as a tonic to that restive young man who was already threatening to get out of bed despite the doctor’s disapproval. Nick had not lied to the doctor- his brother was a terrible patient!

Nick almost wished their mother were here. She seemed to be the only one who had any control over Heath when he got the bit in his teeth. But he couldn’t help but be glad that, with all her sons planning to be away- Jarrod was in San Francisco on a trial- she and Audra had seized the opportunity to visit friends in Denver. At least he didn’t need to worry her with Heath’s injury, not yet anyway, now that he knew his brother would be all right.

Their ‘good samaritan’ had also checked in on Heath, as he said he would, and Nick had stood him to a round of drinks; several rounds, as a matter of fact, as he had said he would. Through it all, Nick had spoken only when absolutely necessary to Zach, and not at all to Hannah.

He still had not brought their chicanery up to Heath. He didn’t know quite how to tell his brother what Nora’s sister, with Zach’s help, had tried to do. Heath remembered very little about what had happened after he was shot; there were only flashes of memory. A blessing, in a way, Nick thought. He felt a chill, followed by a rush of anger, every time he thought about what those two, but mostly Hannah, had intended for his much loved ‘little brother’. He had asked Nora not to say anything about any of this, but he knew he couldn’t put off talking to Heath forever. How would his brother respond to this unsettling information? He had no idea, but he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Despite his misgivings, it was time to talk with Heath.

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The doctor still had not given Heath permission to get up, in spite of his most pitiful pleas, so he was leaning against a mound of pillows eating his lunch in bed when Nick returned to his room. "Hey, Nick, you hungry? You’ better get somethin’ to eat while there’s still some left. I hear the doc’s got a pretty good appetite! Mrs. Doc said to send you in before it was all gone if you got back." He saluted Nick with his fork, and returned to his food with a coming appetite.

Nick realized that he was hungry, in spite of the liquor he had consumed. Actually, he hadn’t tried to match Woody drink for drink; truthfully, he wasn’t sure that he could have. That fella had a real thirst! Or maybe it was because someone else was buying. He left the room, returning in a few minutes with a plate piled high with food, and immediately tucked into it. Quiet reigned as the brothers concentrated on their meal, with only an occasional comment breaking the silence.

When they had finished eating, Nick quickly returned Heath’s tray with the emptied plates to the kitchen, then, removing some of the pillows, helped him get settled into the bed. Pulling the covers up to Heath’s shoulders, he sat down on the side of the bed and rested his hand on his brother’s chest. "Heath, we need to talk. Have you remembered any more about anything that happened after you got shot? I mean after you got to Midas. Anything at all?"

Heath was silent for a few minutes, as Nick knew he would be. Finally he answered slowly, "Well, Nick, I think I remember Nora takin’ care of me sometime. Seems like I heard horses, so it mighta been in a stable or somethin’. After that it gets pretty confusin’... I remember somebody else being there, too, I think. Seems like people were always movin’ me around, and it hurt, but maybe I just dreamed that. Oh, and I sorta remember bein’ in a wagon sometime, seemed like, anyway. But I do remember wakin’ up in the mine, all right, and some fella shootin’ at me, and..." an involuntary shudder shook his body. "... an’ I remember those big beams- couldn’t move my legs...I thought.... but then you were there..." Heath seemed to be recovering memory as he went along, and with it, the feelings that had been submerged. "After that it all gets real hazy ‘til I woke up here at the doc’s. Don’t know if that helps much?" He looked inquiringly at Nick.

In his turn, Nick was quiet for a few moments, shaken by his brother’s words and the remembered fear he had previously supressed, then decided the best way to tell it was just to tell it. That was always the best way with Heath. "It seems you rode in here to Midas after dark the same night I got here. The way Nora tells it, you fell off your horse right out in front of the livery stable. The boy that works for them came and got her sister, Hannah, she owns the hotel, and she and Zach, he works for Hannah, decided you were one of the men that robbed the Dutton messenger. You were carrying the Dutton saddlebags with the payroll on your horse...

"Wait a minute, Nick... What did they do with Charger? He’s all right isn’t he- not hurt or anything?" Heath couldn’t believe he’d forgotten all about his horse. He must have been in worse shape than he’d realized.

Nick was momentarily taken aback. In all the turmoil of these last few days, he had not given one thought to Heath’s beloved horse. He hesitated, then continued, "Don’t you worry about Charger, Little Brother. They musta hid him somewhere so Dutton wouldn’t catch on. I’ll go find him just as soon as we get done talkin’. I’m sure he’s fine.

"Now, back to Nora’s story..." Nick proceeded to fill Heath in on the basic outlines of her story: the mine disaster, the bad feelings, the mistaken identity, and the revelation of who Heath really was. Now for the tricky part, he thought; how to tell Heath that Hannah had tried to get him killed. There was no easy way to tell it, and Nick’s anger rose again as he returned to Nora’s tale.

"Look, Heath, I like Nora. She’s a nice girl and she’s been a real help to you, to both of us, I should say. Just keepin’ you half-way quiet when you’re down is a full-time job! But her sister Hannah is somethin’ else. When she found out- you told ‘em- that you were Heath Barkley, she had this great idea and she talked Zach and the boy into helpin’ her. Nora was asleep, ‘cause she’d been takin’ care of you for quite awhile. Anyway, her sister thought it’d be a great idea to put you in the Midas, and tip Dutton off that the other hold-up man was in the mine. Near as I can figure, she wanted to get even with Dutton and the Barkleys and she decided gettin’ you killed, one of the ‘bosses’, was the way to do it."

"So that’s what they did. They hauled you out there in a wagon, and that was Dutton, our so-called partner in the Midas, who was tryin’ to kill you. They set you both up, but Dutton wasn’t any big loss. He was buried when all that rock fell, most likely- no one is goin’ into that rotten hole to find out, that’s for sure. From what I’ve been able to determine, he’s the one responsible for all the problems with the mine and the cave-in that killed 25 men. But all that doesn’t excuse Nora’s sister for what she did." Nick’s voice had risen with the telling, and a hard edge of anger colored his tone.

"I think we should turn this whole thing over to Jarrod and let him throw the book at ‘em. I mean, it was the same as attempted murder, however you slice it! Even if she is a woman! An’ I don’t appreciate anybody trying to kill my little brother... though I have to admit I’ve been tempted a time or two to kill ya’ myself!" he added with a wicked grin, forgetting his anger for just a moment as he ruffled Heath’s hair.

With a wince, Heath raised himself on an elbow. "Now just take it easy, Nick. Let’s not go off half cocked! I guess I’m missin’ somethin’ here- explain it to me again, will ya’. Didn’t you say her husband died when the Midas collapsed? I can see that maybe she might not a been thinkin’ too straight since then. And even if she wanted me dead, I’m still here. That oughta count for somethin’. Besides, she and Nora mighta saved my life; they did take care of me, right? Bandaged me up, anyway? Even if they did do it for the wrong reason."

"Heath, you weren’t there!" Nick burst out in frustration. "... I mean, ‘course you were there, but you didn’t know what was going on. I waited for you, looked for you forever, seemed like. I knew something was wrong when you didn’t show up early that morning. Heath Barkley late? The man you could set your watch by? No, I knew you were in trouble, Boy, but I didn’t even know where to start lookin’! Finally I went all the way to Maranet, hopin’ to meet up with you, and when I heard you’d left the afternoon before... Then when I found that dead man, and your gun..." Nick stopped suddenly as his voice broke, and he unobtrusively cleared his throat.

"Well now, Nick, I can see how this whole thing mighta been pretty upsettin’, maybe more so for you than for me. After all, like you said, there’s a lot of it I can’t remember, but there’s something we do have to think about. If we charge Hannah and Zach with attempted murder, that’s a pretty serious charge. What’s going to happen to Nora? Have you thought about that? Hannah’s the only family she’s got, near as I can tell. Punishin’ Hannah means punishin’ Nora, and I’m tellin’ you right now, I’m not gonna be a party to that!

"I can see how you might feel that way, Heath, and I don’t like hurting Nora either. She’s a nice girl, and I know you’re right, but it just goes against the grain to let anybody get away with something like that. Even if it is a woman. Jesus God, she tried to get you killed, Heath! I mean, it was just good luck that they didn’t pull it off, and believe me if they had they’d be lookin’ at a murder charge, irregardless! But I hear what you’re saying."

"And there’s something else, Nick. This town’s already lost 25 men because of that rotten mine, and whether the Barkley’s are responsible or not, that’s a lot of men to lose. I can’t say as I blame the folks around here for hating us, all the ‘bosses’. I’d probably feel the same way if I was in their shoes. And maybe they’re right, maybe this wouldn’t have happened if we’d kept a closer eye on what was goin’ on up here with Dutton. I’ve seen too many mine owners who didn’t care about their men to doubt that the people of this town had a reason to hate."

"I still don’t like it, Heath, but I guess I can live with it if you can. After all, you’re the one who really should decide, since you’re the one they tried to get killed. And you’re right about Dutton, I think the townspeople had plenty of reason to hate that bastard. ...No offense, Brother!" Nick concluded with an impish grin and a squeeze of Heath’s arm.

"So we’re agreed then? We’re not going to charge anybody with anything? I want your word on it, Nick. I don’t want you thinkin’ it over and gettin’ mad later on and changin’ your mind. It ends here." Heath gazed somberly at Nick, his eyes challenging, leaving no doubt as to his seriousness.

Nick shrugged, then grinned teasingly at Heath, "Well, if that’s the way you want it, Boy, that’s the way it’s gonna be. I swear! Now what do you say you lay back down there and catch a few winks before Nora comes to call. After all, you don’t want to be noddin’ off when you’ got such pretty company, do you? I just might have to entertain her myself!"

Heath punched Nick lightly on the arm, then snuggled down under the blankets as Nick tucked them in around him. A feeling of warmth swept through him, and he gave his brother a little crooked half-smile as he felt his mind beginning to drift. You’re a lucky man, Heath Barkley! His thoughts flickered briefly to his mama. Who would ever have dreamed that he, Leah’s little bastard boy, Heath, could have all this- a wonderful family, a beautiful home, work he loved, and the best brother in the whole world! He gave a sigh of contentment and closed his eyes.

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