"Nick!" The whispered name was torn from his lips. Throwing off the sheet that covered him, he struggled against the weakness that still remained from his injuries, and pulled himself out of the bed. He reached his hands out, searching for the lamp that sat on the small table by his bed. In his anxiety, he almost knocked it over, but caught it in time and set it upright. Turning up the wick, he relit the lamp; the small flickering light dispelled a little bit of the darkness but none of his fear. Grabbing up his pocket watch that he had set there the night before, he checked the time. One minute after three.

Tired from his hours of paperwork, he had gone to bed early the evening before, at nine p.m. Nick hadn't been home yet from his picnic with Bella. Surely he was home now, safely asleep in his own bed! Jarrod dropped the watch back onto the table, turned and made his way over to the door. Opening it, he stepped out into the hall and walked quietly toward his brother's room. Reaching Nick's door, he knocked softly, waited a moment and then entered, leaving the door open so that the wall lamp in the hall, which was always kept lit, would give some illumination into the room.

"Nick? Nick?" He whispered as he walked toward the bed. Halfway there, he could see that it was empty, the sheets and blanket undisturbed. His stomach tightened, the fear in his mind screaming at him. Blindly he turned, almost running now and a moment later burst into Heath's room.

"Heath! Heath! Wake up! Get up! Something's happened to Nick!" He wasn't whispering now.

Awakened from a sound sleep, Heath jerked and opened his eyes in confusion. "What!....What's the matter?" Then as Jarrod's words penetrated into his mind, he jumped from the bed in one fluid motion, standing before his brother. "Nick? What's happened, Jarrod? Where's Nick?"

Jarrod shook his head. "I don't know. I just checked his room and he's not there. He hasn't been there all night."

Even as he spoke, Heath was reaching for his clothes, starting to pull on his shirt. "He was out with Bella..."

Jarrod interrupted, his voice strained. "Something's happened to him, Heath. Don't you understand? I feel it. I know it. Just like I've always known it when Nick's in some kind of terrible trouble. He's in trouble right now and needs us. Now!"

Jarrod stopped, his face white, his breath coming hard. At that moment the two heard a rustling noise and a figure appeared in the doorway. Victoria's voice rang out. "Heath? What's wrong? Are you all right?"

As Heath bent over to pull on his pants, Jarrod walked over to the door. "Nick isn't in his room, Mother. He hasn't been there all night. I think something's happened to him."

Looking up into her son's pale face, Victoria said, "Do you think he had some kind of accident or something?"

Jarrod's voice was grim. "No. I think our attacker has struck again. And maybe this time he was successful."

"The attacker! But Lenny Hamer is in jail. He couldn't have done anything!"

"I don't think its Hamer. I never have. I believe Cass Hyatt has been biding his time, just waiting for us to become complacent so he could strike. Well, now he has! Don't you understand, Mother? I feel it. I know something has happened to Nick!"

Heath's voice came from behind Jarrod, as he joined them at the door. "If Jarrod thinks something has happened, Mother, I guess we should take his word for it."

Nodding her head, Victoria said. "I suppose you're right. What are you going to do?"

Jarrod spoke up. "First we'll ride into town and talk with Bella. Then we'll head over to the sheriff's office and get a posse up to start looking for Nick."

Victoria grabbed Jarrod's arm, her face concerned. "Jarrod, you shouldn't be riding yet. Let Heath go."

"Mother, this is Nick we're talking about here! I'll be fine. I have to go!" The look he gave her was half imploring, half despairing.

"All right. But be careful, both of you." She glanced lovingly at both of her sons and added. "Bring Nick back home."

"We will, Mother." Heath gave her a kiss on the cheek, then turned to Jarrod and said. "I'll get the horses ready while you change."

Jarrod nodded his head and returned to his room while Heath ran down the stairs and outdoors. Victoria stood alone outside of Heath's room thinking, then turned, walked to Nick's room and entered.

The sky was dark and only a few birds were beginning their early morning chatter as Jarrod and Heath rode into town. At four a.m., even the early-rising ranchers of the San Joaquin Valley were still safe and snug, sleeping in their beds. The streets of Stockton were dark and quiet; the stillness broken only by the clopping hooves of the two Barkley horses. Arriving in front of the boarding house the two dismounted.

"Mrs. Strong sure isn't going to appreciate this." Heath said.

The ride in for Jarrod had been filled not only with fear for Nick but with some pain as his body had been jarred by the hard ride. His voice was edgy. "Hang Mrs. Strong! All I care about right now is Nick!"

Jarrod stepped forward and began pounding loudly on the door. He kept it up without stopping, and finally a light flickered on in the front room where Mrs. Strong resided. Another minute went by before a shadowy figure appeared through the door and a suspicious voice asked.

"Who is it? What do you want?"

"Mrs. Strong, its Jarrod and Heath Barkley. Its very important that we speak to Bella Stanton. Its an emergency!"

There was a moment of silence and then a scraping noise as a key turned in the lock and the door slowly opened. Mrs. Strong stood there in dressing gown and night cap, looking annoyed. "This had better be important, Jarrod Barkley. The idea waking a body up at this ungodly hour. Its not even 4:30 in the morning!"

Jarrod was apologetic, but impatient. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Strong. But it is important. May we talk to Bella, please?"

As Mrs. Strong began to speak, she was interrupted by a soft, cultured voice from behind her.

"Jarrod, Heath. What's wrong? Why are you here so early like this? Has something happened?"

At the sound of the voice, Mrs. Strong turned and Jarrod found himself staring into the wide, brown eyes of Bella Stanton.

As he became more fully conscious, memory returned as well. The picnic with Bella, taking a walk, the old Emory Davis house. Here Nick stopped, once again opening his eyes. It was still dark. He started to move one hand to pass it in front of his eyes, but was pulled up short. What was that?! Pain shot through his head and once again he forced himself to remain still, letting the moment pass. He was more aware now and the pain seemed to lessen a little as well.

He closed his eyes again, trying to take stock of his situation. He was lying down, flat on his back, his arms stretched out behind him. Once again he tried to pull his arm forward but was stopped. As he moved his hands back and forth, realization hit him. Both wrists were clasped in handcuffs, which in turn were hooked onto something else, making him a prisoner. He tried to scooch backward to bring himself up into a sitting position, but found that impossible to do. He was stuck, flat on his back, his arms secured, in the dark.

Trying not to panic, Nick took a deep breath then let it out slowly. He was completely awake now and his memory was clear. He remembered hearing Bella's scream come from inside the Davis house and he had run, afraid that Cass Hyatt had struck again. Reaching the front door, he had burst through it, not even questioning the fact that it was unlocked. He had been aware of someone standing just inside the door and to the left. Then something had come toward him, pain zinged through his head and he was falling. That was the last he remembered until waking up here.

Where was here? The floor beneath him was dirt, and as he kicked a leg outward, he felt it hit a board which clattered as it fell over. He felt enclosed and was sure he was inside somewhere, rather than outdoors. Most likely he was still somewhere inside the old Davis house, probably in the basement. How long had he been here, lying unconscious? And what about Bella? Now that he had determined his own situation, Nick's thoughts came to rest on his companion. Where was she? What had happened to her? Had Hyatt hurt her? Perhaps she was lying there in the dark next to him, unconscious, unable to answer.

"Bella?! Bella, are you there?" His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Bella! Can you hear me? Are you there?" Again he waited. The silence was deafening. Somehow he knew he was alone. He had to get free. He had to escape, get help. What had Hyatt done with Bella? And what about the rest of the family? Was he going after them now?

Nick struggled against the cuffs that held him, but Hyatt had done his job well. Frustrated and in pain, he stopped. "Help! Somebody! Help! Can you hear me? Help! Jarrod! Heath! Mother! Jarrod! Help! Help me! Jarrod!"

Miles away, the old Grandfather clock in the Barkley mansion entranceway struck 3 a.m.

Upstairs, Jarrod was startled awake.

Staring at Bella standing in the hallway, Jarrod answered her. "Its Nick. He never came home last night. I know something has happened to him. Bella, when did he bring you home last night?"

Bella gasped. "Didn't come home? No, Jarrod, no! He has to be all right! I...He dropped me off here last night at about eight o'clock. We were out since eleven in the morning, so it was a very long day. He told me he was going right home and going to bed. He said something about being up early tomorrow to fix some fences."

Heath nodded his head. "Yeah, that's what we were planning. Bella, are you sure that you didn't see anyone or anything suspicious yesterday? No one was following you or anything?"

Bella shook her head. "There's nothing, Heath. Nothing at all. We were out in the countryside all day, and didn't see a soul. What are you going to do?"

Jarrod was grim. "We'll head over to the sheriff's office and see if we can't get as many men as possible out looking for Nick." Cocking his head at Bella, he added, "Nick took you out in the buggy yesterday, didn't he?"

"Yes, that's right. I think I see where you're going with this, Jarrod. Nick had Barney and the buggy. It would be awfully hard for someone to hide them, wouldn't it?" Bella raised her eyebrows at the two brothers.

Heath spoke up. "Yeah, I think it would be. It will be light pretty soon and we're bound to come across the buggy at least somewhere."

"Let's get going, Heath." Jarrod was impatient. Tipping their hats to the two women, the two said their goodbyes and started toward the sheriff's office.

Bella called after them. "Please find Nick!"

Mrs. Strong closed the door and turned to her boarder. "Now, Bella, don't you worry. That Nick has been in a scrape or two before and has always managed to come out on top."

Bella smiled and said. "I hope you're right, Mrs. Strong." She turned to walk back toward her room, when Mrs. Strong's words stopped her in her tracks.

"There was something you said that I wanted to ask you about, Bella."

Turning back around, Bella said, "Ohhh? What was that?"

"Well, you told the Barkleys that Nick dropped you off here last night. But I didn't hear the buggy and when I looked out, there was no one out there but you." Mrs. Strong gave Bella a puzzled glance.

Shrugging her shoulders, Bella said, "I don't remember exactly what I said, Mrs. Strong. I'm so upset about Nick. Nick did drop me off last night here in town, but we stopped in front of the General Store first, and when Nick said he wanted to get back to the ranch I told him to go ahead, that I would walk home. It was such a lovely night last night." Bella smiled.

Nodding her head, Mrs. Strong said, "Well, that explains it. You let me know if I can do anything for you, dear."

"Oh, I will, Mrs. Strong. I will." Bella watched as Mrs. Strong entered her room, then slowly she sauntered back to her own room, a slight smile on her lips.

Entering the sheriff's office a moment later, Jarrod and Heath woke up young Billy Norris who had been snoring loudly as he slept in the chair by the desk. Bringing his head up with a jerk, Billy rubbed his hands over his face then asked. "What can I do for ya?"

"Where's Sheriff Madden?" Jarrod was brusk.

"At this hour? He's at home in bed."

"We should have known!" The two turned back toward the door.

Billy called after them, "Hey, what's the matter? Can I help?"

Halfway out, Jarrod turned back and said, "Is Hamer still in jail?"

"Hamer? Of course! He's not going anywhere!"

"Are you sure? When was the last time you checked?" Jarrod was insistent.

Billy was on his feet now. "A couple of hours ago. But I'll check again if you want?"

Jarrod nodded his head. "Please do."

Billy walked around the desk, and entered the door leading to the cells in the back. A few seconds later he reappeared. Jerking a thumb behind his shoulder, he said. "He's there all right, sound asleep. What's wrong anyway, Mr. Barkley?"

Heath answered. "Our brother Nick has disappeared. We want to get as many men together as possible to start a search. We think Cass Hyatt is behind it."

Billy whistled. "Cass Hyatt. The sheriff had us out looking for him a couple of weeks ago. We didn't come across a thing. Then when Hamer was arrested, we kind of gave up on Hyatt."

"I know. That's probably exactly what he wanted. And now Nick is paying for it." Turning to Heath, Jarrod added. "Let's go get the sheriff."

The two headed out the door, and Billy called after them. "I'll start getting some men together myself."

B

Nick woke up several hours later. He lay there with his eyes closed, thinking of the work waiting for him that morning. As he brought his hand up, it was stopped short and memory came rushing back. He wasn't at home in his own bed, he was lying shackled on the dirt basement floor of the old Davis place.

Nick took a deep breath. His head felt much better, although he still had a headache and his body was stiff and sore. His wrists were aching too where he had rubbed them raw, trying to escape. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around. The room was dim and shadowy, but at least he could see. He had been afraid there was something wrong with his eyes, but it must have just been very late at night when he had first awakened.

A sudden creaking noise drew his attention. Straining his ears, he listened. There it was again. It sounded like someone walking across a room. Hyatt? Or someone else? A friend perhaps. Nick held his breath. Did he dare yell out or would it only bring a wrathful Cass Hyatt down to his prison to make him shut up? The sound was closer now and then a door opened and light from a lamp spilled down the stairs that he could now see on his far right. He waited, watching the flickering light and the bizarre shadows it cast on the wall coming down.

With the light in front and the uncomfortable angle he had on the floor, Nick was unable to get a clear glimpse of the person standing there. As the light moved forward, Nick became aware of a light, familiar scent.

"Bella!" His voice was incredulous. "Bella, is that you? You're all right! Thank God! Hurry up and get me out of here, Bella! Hurry! Before Hyatt comes back!"

She stopped next to him, holding the lamp up and to the side, allowing him to get a clear look at her. She said nothing.

"Bella! What's the matter with you! Don't just stand there! Get me loose!"

"And why would I want to do that, Nick?" Her voice was cool.

Nick gave a half laugh. "Bella, this is no time for joking. It isn't safe here. Now get me loose and let's get back to the ranch."

"I feel perfectly safe here, Nick. I don't want to go to the ranch. I like it right here." She smiled, a cold, unfeeling smile that made a shiver run down Nick's spine.

"Bella? What's going on? Why are you doing this? Why are you acting like this?" His voice was puzzled, but a feeling of dread was growing in him.

"Poor, poor, Nick. You just don't get it, do you, Nick?" She leaned over closer, her look leering. "This is exactly where I want you, Nick. I did this. Don't you understand?" She laughed. The sound wasn't quite sane.

Nick shivered again. He shook his head. It couldn't be true, and yet... "You? You, Bella? All this time its been you? The attacks? On me and Mother?"

Her voice was mocking. "Yes, Nick. It was me. All the time." She turned away as if to leave.

Nick called out. "Wait! Wait, Bella. What about Hyatt? Where does he fit into all this?"

Turning towards him again, Bella said, "You do have a lot of questions, don't you, Nick? But the fun part about this is I don't have to tell you a thing! As for Cass Hyatt, well, he has his part in this. And that's all I'm going to tell you!" She gave another odd laugh and then swept across the room back over to the stairs.

"Bella! You can't leave me like this!" Trying to stay calm, Nick added more quietly. "Please, Bella, I'm thirsty. Will you get me some water, please?"

Bella stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Thirsty? That must be a terrible feeling. But I'm afraid, Nick, that I can't help you there. You see that's the whole idea. Now, all I have to do is wait for one more little thing and then my plan will be complete." She smiled at Nick. "Sweet dreams, Nick." Gathering up her skirts, she skipped lightly up the stairs.

Nick's voice rang out behind her. "Bella! Bella, come back! Why, Bella, why? Bella!!"

Right after talking to Sheriff Madden that morning, Heath had ridden back to the ranch to form the hands into a search party. Spreading out for several miles in each direction, the men combed the countryside working their way toward Stockton. Groups of men from Stockton did the same, following the trail back to the Barkley ranch. Meeting halfway, all came up empty handed.

It was becoming more and more difficult to see, and finally, the search was called off for the night. Tired, hungry and dirty, the men started to break up, each heading back to his own home. None of them had spoken a word of complaint during the long, heartbreaking day. For the time being, petty arguments, differences and disagreements had been put aside as the community joined forces to help one of their own.

Victoria and Audra had spent a long, anxious day waiting for news which never came. Several women from the surrounding ranches had joined them, giving support mostly through their presence. Together they had made gallons of coffee and mountains of sandwiches to sustain the weary troops. As darkness began to fall, they too left, returning to their homes and menfolk, grateful that they at least were safe.

Jarrod and Heath arrived home exhausted and discouraged, their clothing dirty and disheveled from hours of hard riding and searching in caves, mines, line shacks and every other place a man might be hidden. They pulled themselves off the horses and handed the reins over to Ciego who stood by, a look of concern on his face.

Heath spoke up. "Get two fresh horses ready, Ciego. We're going out again tonight just as soon as we get a bite to eat and rest up." By sunlight, moonlight or lamplight, the two intended to keep up the search for their brother until they brought him home.

Jarrod's face was white and a small grunt of pain escaped him, which he covered with a cough at the sight of his mother waiting by the fence. Victoria was aware of it, but chose to ignore it. Her eldest son needed no reminder of his own frailness.

She had overheard Heath's remark and now she watched them both as they walked toward her, her mother's eye noting each line of weariness and pain, the grief-filled eyes, the determined set to the manly jaws. Her own heart ached, but she would not burden the two exhausted men anymore than they already were. She spoke no words, just linked arms with her sons, and walked with them to the house.

In the first minutes after Bella's departure, Nick had lain there in disbelief, too stunned to even think. Then the thoughts had come thick and fast, too many and too confused to sort out. Bella. Bella was the attacker. It couldn't be! Surely he would have known, would have felt something! This woman had tried to kill him, tried to kill his mother, and he had gone blithely on his way courting her, loving her, kissing her. He stopped, thinking of that day at the boarding house when she had pulled away from him. Something had been bothering her. He thought that she was concerned about him.... He gave a bitter laugh. Concerned about him! She probably couldn't bear the thought of touching him.

Again he stopped. Had it all been lies? Surely she had felt something for him. Was she that good an actress. "Apparently she was, Nick, old man, she sure had you fooled." Again the bitter laugh came. Anger ran through him like fire. Yelling in rage and disbelief and hurt, Nick pulled hard on the handcuffs that held him down. Twisting and turning, he pulled and yanked in desperation, trying to free himself. A half sob of frustration, anger and betrayal escaped him; exhausted, he stopped.

The exertion had drained him, and he was calmer now as well. He could think a little more dispassionately. Bella. Why would Bella want to do this? Or perhaps more to the point, who was Bella that she would want to do this? He thought back to their first meeting that night outside the saloon after the fight with the MacKenzies. She had come up to him as he laid there in the street and asked him if he were planning to spend the night there. What else had she said? "I know who you are, Mr. Barkley." Yeah, that was it. Right from the beginning. She knew who he was. She had walked right up to him and yanked him in on her line. What a fool he was. And now what? If she wanted to kill him, why hadn't she done it already? What had she said as she left? "Now, all I have to do is wait for one more little thing and then my plan will be complete." What did that mean? Was she going after the rest of the family? Mother, Audra, Jarrod, Heath? Were they all in danger now? And what about Hyatt. She had said something about Hyatt having a part in this. Hyatt. She knew Hyatt! What was he? A friend? A brother? A lover? If Hyatt was behind this, then it was Jarrod who was the target. Hyatt had tried to kill Jarrod before and as a result had ended up back in prison. That had to be it. Hyatt, in cahoots with Bella, trying to pay Jarrod back once and for all. And he, Nick, was the bait.

His mind in turmoil, his body aching and weak from lack of food and water, Nick finally drifted off into a troubled, nightmarish sleep.

The family sat in the living room, too tired to talk or even think. Jarrod sprawled in a chair near the empty fireplace, staring unseeingly into its cold depths. Victoria and Audra were seated on the davenport, and Heath had managed to make it over to another chair before collapsing. Time passed, the only sound the ticking of the tall clock and its soft chiming as it rang the quarter hour. Heath knew, however, that if he didn't make himself get up now, he never would. Just as he was about to tell Jarrod that they needed to head out again, the sound of a horse approaching could be heard.

"Who do you suppose that is?" Heath wondered as he pulled his weary body out of the chair and headed for the door.

The rest of the family was silent, but rose as one and followed Heath out into the hall. A loud knocking rang out just as Heath reached the door, and he pulled it open.

"Hey, sheriff. Its awfully late. After all that we've been through today, I figured you'd be home in bed by this time." Heath held the door and gestured the sheriff inside.

Taking off his hat and entering the house, Sheriff Madden said. "I was on my way there, but I stopped at the office first when I got back." He stopped, his glance taking in each forlorn figure before him and coming to rest on Jarrod. He stepped forward, waving a piece of paper and said. "Jenkins brought over a telegram that arrived for me just as I was headed home. Its from the warden at San Quentin." He paused, an odd look crossing his face, then taking a deep breath, went on, "Jarrod, they found Cass Hyatt earlier today. He's dead."

Jarrod shuddered. Nick's stubborn refusal to move, and his own recognition of his real self reflected in his brother, had brought him to his senses. He had walked away, drained and ashamed at his own weakness. He hadn't felt cheated at Hyatt's sentence of life in prison instead of death by hanging; he'd had enough of revenge and blood. When he believed Hyatt was responsible for the attacks, he had been angry, but still couldn't find it in himself to go into a murderous rage. Whatever monster that had been, was long dead and buried; he hoped. To live one's life in that kind of state, could only lead to madness.

Now as the sheriff's words echoed through his mind, Jarrod wasn't sure what he felt about Cass Hyatt's death. He wasn't sorry about it, but beyond that he couldn't think. The only one that mattered now was Nick. Where was Nick? Turning to the sheriff, he asked. "If Hyatt's dead, what about Nick? Where does he have him hidden? How will we ever find him?"

Fred shook his head. "You don't understand, Jarrod. Hyatt's been dead for weeks. The warden said the doctor up there thought he had been shot the same day he escaped. Hyatt couldn't be responsible for Nick's disappearance or the attacks."

Bewilderment ran through Jarrod. "That's not possible! Nick's gone, he's disappeared! We're not just dreaming this are we? It has to be Hyatt. Hamer's still in jail, and the MacKenzies have been in Colorado all week. Hyatt's the only one left!"

"It has to be someone else, Jarrod, unless you believe in ghosts." Fred shrugged his shoulders, then went on. "There is something odd about all this. The warden said that the only reason they found Hyatt after all this time, is that someone sent an anonymous letter telling them where they could find the body."

"An anonymous letter! Who could it be?" Victoria was as bewildered as her son.

Heath chimed in. "Its been like this ever since the beginning. We think we're getting somewhere and then we run into a brick wall. Now we're even worse off than before. There aren't any suspects left. Whoever this person is, he's managed to keep himself well hidden."

Jarrod cocked his head to one side, the wheels in his head beginning to turn. "Maybe not, Heath. It seems to me that by sending the letter to San Quentin, he's showing his hand."

Audra spoke for the first time. "I don't know what you mean, Jarrod."

Rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, Jarrod paced a step away, then turned back much as he would when addressing a jury; the quick-thinking lawyer replacing the tired, heart-sick brother. "Think about it. If Hyatt was killed nearly two months ago when he first escaped, why is his killer revealing that fact now? Everybody believed that Hyatt escaped and, unless his body was found accidently, we all would have gone right on believing it until Doomsday."

One hand up to his mouth in concentration, Heath said, "I'm following you, Jarrod. Go on."

"The killer must have some reason for wanting us to know that Hyatt is dead. Now this killer could be anyone, but with everything that's been going on and the fact that Hyatt's roots are right here in Stockton, makes me believe that all of this is connected. Whoever killed Hyatt, has a grudge against the Barkleys and somehow the two are connected." Jarrod paused for breath, then continued. "If we can find the person who wanted Hyatt dead and who has some reason to conduct a vendetta against us, then we'll have our attacker."

"So what it comes down to is, we need to find out who Hyatt's enemies are and where they're at." Victoria went on grimly. "And with the kind of life Hyatt led, they could be numerous. We don't have that kind of time. Nick doesn't have that kind of time!"

"Think! We have to be missing something, somewhere. I mean this person has to be in the immediate area, watching us. It has to be someone we know, that we've talked to on the streets." Jarrod said.

Audra shivered. "Someone we know! That's a frightening thought. But who do we know that would want to hurt us and Cass Hyatt?"

Audra's question hung in the air and an hour later, after speculations, arguments, and general theorizing, they were no closer to answering it. It was close to midnight, when Fred stood up and made his goodbyes. "Its awful late, folks, and if I'm going to be any good to you tomorrow I need to get some sleep. I suggest you boys get some rest too. I know how you feel, but there isn't much you can do in the dark. Besides, it was storming pretty good just west of here, and I think we'll be hit with it soon. You can get a fresh start in the morning."

Heath was about to argue, when a low rumble of thunder backed up the sheriff's words. The two brothers looked at each other, reluctantly ceding to nature's whims.

A loud crack of thunder brought Nick wide awake in his basement prison. A flash of lightning lit up the dark room for a second, casting weird shadows on the walls. A moment later, the sound of running water came, as a torrential rain began to pour. To Nick, the sound was torture; to be surrounded by the sound of water, just a few feet away, was maddening to his dehydrating body. His stomach was cramped and he felt soreness in the muscles of his legs and arms. His mouth was dry and he found it harder to concentrate.

Passing a dry tongue over his lips, he began to pray. "Please, God, let them find me. I don't want to die down here like this, in this dark hole, alone. Let them find me. Lead them to me somehow. Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name...." His voice went on, reciting the Lord's Prayer that he had first learned at his mother's knee. It had been a long time since Nick Barkley had prayed with such fervor and meaning.

Jarrod didn't know what had awakened him, but he was almost sure he had heard the sound of a woman's voice calling to him. The room was a murky grey, the color of early dawn after a night of heavy rain. He figured it was almost six in the morning, well past the time they should be up andlooking for Nick. His mind wasn't quite ready yet, however, as pictures from his dreams still danced before his eyes. He had dreamed all night long, as thoughts and fears kept pushing their way into his weary mind.

The night before, he had gone over and over every event, every thing, every person remotely connected with the family until exhaustion overcame him and he slept. Still his mind had worked on. Cass Hyatt was dead. Someone besides Jarrod had seen to that, but who? Who hated him enough to help him escape from prison and then shoot him? Beth was avenged now, albeit by someone else's hand.

Beth. She had been in his dreams too. All mixed in with guns and Hyatt and Nick and missing buggies and belt buckles and swinging bags of flour. Bizarre, strange dreams. He could see her face now, smiling, then laughing, her head thrown back.

Jarrod came to with a start; this time he was truly awake. As if a key had turned a lock in his brain, the pieces came together and fit perfectly. The attacks on Nick and Mother, Cass Hyatt's murder, Nick's disappearance, even the belt buckle. They all made sense. He knew.

Jumping from his bed, Jarrod threw on his clothes and raced downstairs and out the door, not even stopping to fill in the rest of his family. He knew Bella was behind the attacks, he knew she had Nick and he knew why. Now he just had to get to her, to reason with her before it was too late. Before Nick became the next victim in a tragic circle.

As he pulled Seneca up in front of the boarding house, he finally quit kicking himself mentally, at least for the time being. Right now he needed to focus on what he was going to say to Bella once they met face to face. Taking a deep breath, Jarrod dismounted, marched up to the door and pounded on it. It seemed like an eternity, but finally the handle turned and Mrs. Strong appeared behind the door. Knowing full well the strain that he was under, she didn't complain about the loud, insistent knocking.

"Hello, Jarrod. Any news yet?"

"No, nothing yet." He wasn't ready to share his discovery with anyone. "I came to see Bella. Is she here?"

"Now, isn't that funny. You just missed her by a few minutes, Jarrod. But she did leave a note for you. She seemed to know you'd be by here. Wait just a minute and I'll get it for you." Mrs. Strong disappeared into the house beyond.

Jarrod waited, thinking. She was expecting him was she? She must have thought that the discovery of Cass Hyatt's body would be enough for him to figure it all out. What would she have done if he hadn't? She probably had that covered as well.

Mrs. Strong's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Here it is, Jarrod. You be careful now, you hear?" She gave him an odd look.

Not noticing, Jarrod took the piece of paper, mumbled a thank you and walked back to his horse. Mrs. Strong watched him for a moment, then with a shake of her head, reentered the house and closed the door.

Jarrod stared at the paper for a moment, almost afraid of having his worst fears confirmed. Then without preamble, he opened it and read the short, terse words. "Jarrod, meet me at Stockman Bridge." Yes, this was it. Without further thought, he climbed aboard Seneca and went to meet Bella.

Inside the boarding house, Mrs. Strong walked over to the front window, pulled back the curtain and watched Jarrod as he read Bella's note, stuffed the paper into his pocket, and then rode off on Seneca. She stood there for a moment, trying to make up her mind. Should she ride out to the ranch and talk to Victoria Barkley?

She had never disliked Bella Stanton, but her boarder of two months had always been a bit odd right from the start. She would take walks at strange hours, and often Mrs. Strong had heard her moving about in her room in the middle of the night. Then there had been her statement the other day about Nick dropping her off in front of the General Store. She had told Bella that she understood, but it kept bothering her. Something about it just didn't ring true. Whatever she thought about Nick Barkley's reputation for fighting, he was certainly a gentleman where ladies were concerned. He would never have allowed Bella to walk home by herself in the dark.

With a determined shake of her head, Martha Strong made up her mind. Stopping in her room only long enough to pick up her hat, she marched out the front door and to the livery stable where she rented a horse and buggy. Heading out of town, she crossed Cutter's Bridge which had replaced Stockman Bridge as the access way across the creek outside of town. About twenty minutes out she saw someone approaching, and soon recognized Heath Barkley on Charger. She pulled up the buggy and waited for the horse and rider to reach her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Strong. You're out early." Heath raised his hat in greeting.

"Good morning, Heath. I just saw your brother."

Heath looked startled. "Jarrod? I was just on my way to find him. He was gone when I got up this morning and I was kind of worried about him. We found out last night that Cass Hyatt is dead and now we have no idea who has Nick."

Pursing her lips together, Mrs. Strong commented. "I was on my way out to the ranch to speak to your mother, but I might as well tell you. I've had my doubts about Bella Stanton. I know she lied about Nick dropping her off in town the day of the picnic. I think she's involved in this somehow, Heath. I think Jarrod knows it too. Anyway, he went to meet her this morning. I know I shouldn't have done it, but I peeked at the note Bella left for him. She wanted him to meet her at Stockman Bridge. They should be there now."

"Bella Stanton! I don't get it." Heath was perplexed. "Stockman Bridge. Thanks for the information, Mrs. Strong. I'll head right over there and see if I can find out what this is all about."

Waving goodbye, Heath gave Charger a gentle nudge and rode off for the old bridge. Mrs. Strong sat for a moment, then clucked to the horse and continued on toward the Barkley Ranch. Victoria Barkley was a strong, sensible woman and should be made aware of the suspicions about Bella. Besides, it would put herself in the middle of things so she would know what was going on.

Stockman Bridge was outside of Stockton, about a mile west of the main road into town. At one time, it had been the primary passage into Stockton, but time and change in the growing town had abandoned the old bridge, leaving it a decaying oddity. Nowadays, it was visited only by small boys on fishing expeditions, who were constantly warned by parents to stay off. The town council had threatened to tear it down for years, but had never gotten around to doing it. Now as Jarrod came in sight of the bridge, he felt an odd twisting in his stomach. Weeks of anguish had come down to this. What he said and did now might mean all the difference where Nick was concerned.

She was there, standing halfway across the rickety bridge staring down into the water. He brought Seneca to a halt and dismounted, tying him to a nearby tree. Then, on foot, he walked toward her. She didn't move at his approach, but somehow he was sure that she knew he was there. He stopped about eight feet away, then called her name.

"Bella!" He swallowed, waiting for her first words.

It seemed an eternity, but finally she turned toward him, a slight smile on her lips. "I see you finally figured it out, Jarrod. I was beginning to think I would have to send you an engraved invitation."

"Yes, I figured it out, Bella. After I heard Cass Hyatt was dead, murdered, I started thinking about who would want to kill him. Who could hate him enough to go to the trouble of breaking him out of prison to shoot him. All the things that have happened ran through my mind, and finally, they came together like pieces of a puzzle. Everything fit. The only thing I don't understand is Beth's tombstone. Why on earth would you damage that?"

A smoldering light flashed in her eyes. "I didn't damage it, I fixed it! I got rid of that name, that horrible, hateful Barkley name. It wasn't her name! It couldn't be her name. You knew her for less than two weeks. She was my sister for twenty-two years!" Her voice was high, filled with anguish and a hint of something else.

Jarrod felt a chill go through him. He thought back to that day in the cemetery when he had stood before Beth's grave site, and of the strange cold feeling that had knifed through him. He hadn't known what it was then, but now looking into the hate-filled, brown eyes, he knew it for what it was, madness. How far gone was she? All these months she had brooded over her sister's death, lost in grief, filled with hatred and revenge. She had already killed once and she was prepared to kill Nick. How could he reach her? Surely there was something left of the beautiful, young woman Beth had described.

It was the first day they had met, on the train out of Washington, D.C. Jarrod had described his family to her and Beth had been delighted. "Your mother, a sister and two brothers! How lucky you are, Jarrod. Both of my parents are dead, but I do have a sister, Isabella. I call her Bella. She's four years younger than I am and she's a delight! We've always been close, even more so after our parents died eight years ago. We don't look anything alike, but she's beautiful, intelligent, fun and loving. Perhaps the only thing wrong with Bella is she feels things too deeply, cares too much, if that's possible. In some ways it's a wonderful way to be, but it makes me a little bit afraid for her. Life can hurt, but for someone like that it can tear them apart."

Why hadn't he remembered sooner? Nine months ago he had sent a telegram, had even written a letter, to Miss Isabella Randall of Baileys Crossroads, Virginia. A few days ago she told him that she was from a small Virginia town, close to D.C. And it still hadn't sunk in. Of course she had tried to throw him off by mentioning a brother rather than a sister, but he still hadn't connected Bella Stanton with Bella Randall. What had she added? "You have no idea how lucky you are to have your family, Jarrod." He shivered. Now that he knew who she was, he recognized those words for what they were, a threat.

Perhaps he had known in a way or had felt something all along. He remembered how he had put down her quietness and distance from him as shyness. In reality, it was probably her defense against showing the anger and hatred she felt toward him. It was a wonder that he hadn't picked up on those feelings and been repelled by her. But it had been the opposite. He had been drawn toward her, had felt a sense of protectiveness and caring for her.

The reason for it had come clear to him in the early light of day, after that long, dream-ridden night. He had been trying so hard to figure out who could have a connection with the Barkleys and Cass Hyatt. His subconscious had shown him the answer as he slept. While he had prosecuted Hyatt before he had known her, since her murder, it was Beth who was the biggest connection between Hyatt and the Barkley family, himself in particular. He had pictured Beth, how she looked, how she talked, the way she moved her hands and threw her head back when she laughed.

Beth had been tall with blonde hair and blue eyes. Then, in the strange way of dreams, Beth turned into Bella, barely five feet tall, her hair a light auburn color, her eyes a deep brown, but her mannerisms, her speech, and the way she threw her head back when she laughed; it was Beth. He bolted awake then and he knew.

In that first moment of understanding, he could have kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. He also realized the part that the ordinary inconveniences of life had played in bringing about this tragedy. Even as Beth had told him about her sister, she had called out to Charles, the attendant on the train, asking him to fetch her small toiletry box. In there she carried a treasured picture of Bella, which she wanted to show him.

A few minutes later, Charles had returned announcing that the box was not on the train. Later checking revealed that it had been placed on another train going to New York and would be sent out to Denver. In the excitement surrounding her quick betrothal and marriage to Jarrod, Beth had completely forgotten about it, leaving no forwarding address to Stockton, California. Two days later she had been shot and after two weeks, the forgotten box was sent back to Virginia. As a result of the mix-up, Jarrod had never seen the picture, had never known what Bella Randall looked like. If not for the mistake of some railroad clerk, he would have recognized Bella Stanton and this whole nightmare might have been averted.

But then again, Beth had been so lovely, so kind. Why would he connect her sister with the evil of the attacker? Beautiful Bella. Had it only been a couple of weeks ago that they had been joking about that? It seemed so tragically ironic now.

As Jarrod stared into Bella's eyes, he realized that his only hope was to remind her of Beth, the Beth who loved her, who could never understand such violence or hatred. He had to make her realize that what she was doing was something Beth would abhor. He had to bring her back to reality, restore her sanity. It was his only hope, Nick's only chance of survival.

Jarrod spoke, weighing his words carefully. "You're right, Bella. I only knew Beth for a short while, but I learned to love her so quickly. I can only imagine how much you loved her and how much you hurt when she died. When Cass Hyatt shot Beth, all I wanted was revenge, to make him pay. But I stopped, Bella. I had to because I realized it would take me away from Beth, not bring her closer. She was the opposite of all that hate I had and if I killed Hyatt, I would have lost her completely. Please, Bella. Stop this. Let Nick go before its too late. You'll only destroy yourself in the end. Is that what Beth would have wanted? She was so proud of you, Bella. She loved you so much. Don't destroy your memory of her by destroying yourself."

That last he remembered was something his mother had told him. He had taken it to heart. Bella seemed to be listening. Was he getting through at all? Had he said too much or too little?

There was silence for a moment, each staring at the other; Jarrod was holding his breath, Bella biting her lip. She started to speak, stopped, then shook her head. "No! Beth is gone. Dead. Buried. Nothing can bring her back! Nothing!"

Jarrod tried to speak, but she rushed on. "Cass Hyatt shot her and I took care of him. I planned his escape for months. I planned all of this, every detail. I already knew this place, you and your family. Beth wrote me a letter the morning she died. I got it ten days later. She described you and your mother and Nick and all the rest. Do you know what that was like reading that, hearing her happiness in every word and knowing she wasn't around to share it anymore?"

"Bella, I know..."

Her eyes flashing fire, she interrupted. "You know! You can't possibly know! I loved her so much! She was all I had! All I had left in the world and you took her away from me! I vowed that I would kill Cass Hyatt and I would make you pay. I came out here months ago, checking everything out, planning for every contingency. And when I was ready, I put it into motion. I made friends with some of the guards at San Quentin. Men are such fools! They'd chase after anyone in a dress!" Her voice was contemptuous.

Jarrod stayed quiet. If he could keep her talking, he might find a weak moment when he could break through the barrier she had thrown up. If nothing else, she might give some clue to where she had hidden Nick.

Bella continued on, explaining her vengeful plan which had brought such grief to the Barkley family. "I found out everything I needed to know about Cass Hyatt's life in prison and I got the guards to trust me. One day they left me alone with him and I told him I was a friend of his brother Cliff and I was going to help him escape. It made me sick to be near him, to see his face, to pretend to be helping him. But I did it. One of the guards gave me his key, so I could come "visit" him. I had told Hyatt to cause some trouble that day, so he would be sent out to the yard. The rest was easy. I unlocked the gate that night, got Hyatt loose and we walked right on out! I had two horses waiting and we rode away together. We went to an old abandoned mine shaft that I had found. I told him we could hide out there overnight. He turned away for a moment and I pulled out the gun I had brought. I called his name and he turned back toward me. Oh! You should have seen the look on his face. And then when I told him who I really was, he became the groveling, whimpering coward that he really was. He was down on his knees, begging for his life. And then I shot him."

Jarrod felt sick. She was reliving the moment right before him, and the delight and thrill in her eyes was frightening. How could he ever hope to break through this madness? What hope was there for Nick when she already had the taste of death and revenge on her lips? Keep her talking was his only thought now. "You hid his body in the mine and then you came here. How could you be sure that things would work out, that you would find a post here?"

Bella laughed. "I told you I planned every detail, Jarrod. I'm a teacher, just like Beth was. I have my credentials. If there wasn't a post available, I would create one. The Stockton School for Boys is a boarding school and only hires male teachers and Mrs. Devon at the public school has too much family around here. Then I came to Miss Keleher and the Mission School."

"You had something to do with Miss Keleher's mother being ill?" Jarrod's voice was incredulous.

"Of course! You don't suppose she was just going to walk away and leave me the job? No. I found out that Miss Keleher's only close family was her mother and she lived back East, in Maryland. It really isn't too far from Baileys Crossroads." Bella threw her head back and laughed again. "Mrs. Keleher would get better quite quickly if they'd stop giving her the tonic her doctor prescribed for her. At least if she quit taking it from the very large bottle he originally gave her. Anyway, I made sure that the board knew what a good teacher I was and of course I got the job. The next thing I did was introduce myself to Nick. He made that very easy on the night he had the fight with the MacKenzie brothers." Her voice was almost wistful. "I could have really liked Nick if I had let myself, but all I had to do was think that he had the same blood as you and..." She shrugged her shoulders, then continued. "Once I was in good with Nick, it was simple. I always knew where he was or where he was going to be. I knew all about you and the rest of the family and I was invited right into the Barkley abode!"

Jarrod swallowed. "As simple as that. So then you started the attacks. What about the MacKenzies and Lenny Hamer?"

Bella shrugged. "Actually that worked right into my hands. I had four ready-made suspects, which made it more likely that you wouldn't be suspicious of me. The only thing that I didn't plan on was the letter from San Quentin being sent to the wrong town. I kept wondering why the warden didn't notify Sheriff Madden. But in the long run, I think it worked out for the better. Every time Nick told me how concerned you were, how afraid you were for him, I knew that it was working."

"You wanted me to sweat, to be afraid and anxious for my family. It certainly worked, especially when you went after Mother." Jarrod watched her closely.

"I was furious with you and Heath that day! When you first came to the boarding house and told me to look after Nick, I almost laughed in your face. And then later, walking with Nick, every time I turned around there was Heath! But Nick told me about your mother and Audra going to the orphanage and when they would be returning home. I already knew about the Old Mill, so as soon as Nick left, I raced out to the mill and set up my trap. I had taken the belt buckle several nights before, when I was at your house for supper. I knew how Nick treasured it, and I figured it would come in handy."

She placed both hands on her hips, triumph in her eyes. "Then Lenny Hamer beat you up in mistake for Nick. At first I was angry, afraid that he might have injured you so badly that you would die. That wasn't in my plan at all! I raced out to the ranch and I was quite relieved when the doctor said you were going to be all right. Then Hamer was arrested and I realized that it was perfect for me. You were too ill to be concerned about Nick or the family, so any attacks right then would hardly be noticed by you. Plus, if nothing happened while Hamer was in jail, you were bound to accept the fact that he was the attacker and you would become complacent about the family's safety. That's exactly what happened! Once you were well enough, I took Nick on a picnic and he never suspected a thing! I have him safely tucked away and you'll never see him alive again!"

Jarrod took a step toward her and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. He stopped. Bella spoke, the words coming hard and furious. "If it hadn't been for you, Beth would still be alive. You're the one who should have died that day, not Beth. She was supposed to be in Denver, teaching. You brought her out here and killed her. Now you have to pay!"

"Bella, listen to me. I loved Beth. I wish I had been the one to die that day. That bullet was meant for me, not Beth. If I could take it all away, if I could go back and change what happened, I would! You blame me for Beth's death. Fine. Blame me, punish me. But don't take it out on Nick. Don't hurt Nick, hurt me!"

Throwing her head back, Bella laughed, a low, gurgling sound filled with hatred. "Hurt you? I am hurting you! Oh, I'd love to take this gun and put a bullet through your head! There. Right between your eyes." She gestured with the gun, laughed again , then continued. "But what good would that do? You'd feel a little pain for a moment, and then you'd be gone, dead, out of all this misery we call life. Oh, no, Counselor. I'm going to make you feel real pain. The gut-wrenching, heart-rending, soul-aching pain of losing someone too soon, too painfully; knowing that it was your fault, that you were responsible. You took my sister, Jarrod. Now I'm taking your brother, and there's nothing you can do about it, nothing at all. Nick is going to die. A slow, painful and lonely death and its all your fault!" She stopped finally, her last words dying out in a long, shaky breath.

Jarrod stared, his face ashen. He closed his eyes for a moment. He was staring at himself--had he been any different as he had pursued Cass Hyatt with hatred and revenge in his heart? He hadn't even recognized himself; driven, hate-filled, revengeful, ready to hurt anyone, do anything to satisfy his pain and hurt. His own words came back to him. "I discovered something inside myself that I never knew existed. I pray to God I never find it again."

Jarrod opened his eyes. She was still there, a living, breathing reflection of that part of himself he had wished never to see again. He had tried to reason with her, tried to break through to Beth's beautiful sister who had once existed there. But he was the one she hated, the one whom she blamed. She couldn't see anything beyond that, beyond her loyalty and love for Beth who was dead, as he had for Nick and the rest of his family who were alive. He had failed. She found the monster he feared, had given into it and now had become it.

His eyes filled with pain, Jarrod stepped toward her without thinking. "Stay where you are, Jarrod! I already know Nick is going to die! I can see what you're feeling, the pain, the hurt, the grief. It won't matter to me if I have to kill you now! I'll know! I'll have it to hold for the rest of my life! The anguish of Nick's death, your pitifulness and failure, and the pain of your own death, crying out from your eyes before all goes dark and I send you to hell!" She was shrieking now, lost in madness. As if in a nightmare, he saw her hand come up, cock back the hammer and pull the trigger.

A shot rang out, sounding like cannon fire. Complete silence reigned. Blue eyes stared into brown eyes, each filled with suffering. Time ceased to exist.

The gun dropped from Bella's hand and she fell. Agony rippled through Jarrod's entire being as he dove for her, screaming out her name. "Bella! No! No!" Her body struck the side of the bridge. There was a loud crack, a grinding noise, then the rotten boards gave loose and the limp body fell into the roaring creek below. Jarrod hit the deck hard, his arms stretched out to catch her, a moment too late. He lay face down, at the very edge, halfway off the bridge himself. Great sobs escaped him. "Bella! Beth! Beth, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Nick! Nick! Nick!"

What was happening out there? Bella hadn't returned after that first visit. He figured she was just going to leave him here to die. He wondered what sort of lies she had told the others. Surely a search party had been gotten up? Someone would think of the old, abandoned Davis house.

"Can't anyone hear me out there? Mother! Jarrod! Heath! Audra!" He thought he was yelling at the top of his lungs, but the words came out in little more than a whisper. Perhaps no one could hear him because there was no one left to hear. Had Hyatt and Bella taken care of the rest of the family? No! He was getting morbid lying down here. If he was the bait, then Hyatt and Bella wanted Jarrod and the others alive. Didn't they?

Nick's mind strayed once again, thinking back to the time when he had been trapped in a cold, dark place like this before. It had been a mine that time and somehow, way off in San Francisco, his big brother had known that he was in trouble. Jarrod. He had always known before when he needed help. Why couldn't he find him now? "Where are you, Pappy? I need you!" The old nickname came unbidden to his lips. He hadn't used it much of late, but it still held meaning.

He remembered the first time he had called Jarrod that. He had been ten years old, Jarrod fourteen. It seemed to Nick that his older brother had begun to change in the last few months, becoming moody, distant and impatient with the younger brother who looked up to him. The approach of adulthood in the young adolescent, was beyond the comprehension of the ten-year-old who just wanted to play.

Glaring at Jarrod, Nick yelled out the worst words he could think of without using anything too objectionable that would get him in trouble with Mother. "You jackanapes, stick-in-the-mud, old Pappy. That's what you are, an old Pappy who can't do nothin'. Always telling me what to do, ordering me around, thinking you're my father or somethin', but you ain't. Pappy! Pappy!" He saw the name irritated Jarrod and kept it up. For the next six months, he continued to use the name derisively whenever he thought Jarrod was getting on his high horse. Then came the day he fell off the side of Marlowe Canyon.

It was early in the morning, and Nick was sneaking out of the house. He'd made a bet with Carl Wheeler and a couple of others from school that he could climb the high side of Marlowe Canyon; a rocky and steep incline that he had been warned to stay away from. If his father ever found out about this, he'd get a whipping for sure. As he rode Cocoa from the stable, he saw Jarrod standing there.

"You're going to get yourself killed if you go through with this." Jarrod stated, his arms crossed in front of him, watching Nick with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, is that right, Pappy? You think you know everything, don't you? I suppose you're gonna run inside and tell Father now aren't you? Tattletale!" Nick was furious. If Jarrod told Father, he'd be in real trouble for sure.

Jarrod shook his head. "Nope. I'm not saying anything. Go get yourself killed if you want. It doesn't matter to me. Just don't forget I warned you."

Nick glared at him, but there wasn't much he could say. At least he wasn't going to tell on him. Riding off in a cloud of dust, Nick's bravado dimmed a little. He knew the canyon could be dangerous. Part of him had hoped Jarrod would tell, then at least he'd have an excuse for Carl and the others. "Now I'm getting just as bad as Jarrod," he thought. Kicking up Cocoa, he rode on.

Everything went fine at first. With his friends urging him on, he worked his way up the side of the steep cliff, until he was more than halfway. Here he stopped a moment to catch his breath, checking how much farther he needed to go. There was a large rock which he had to climb over to get to the next accessible spot. Once he made it over that, the rest should be easy. The side of the rock was high and smooth, with no place for a good handhold. Feeling a bit scared now, Nick realized that he had no choice, the only place he could go was up. Reaching as high as he could, he felt around until he found a likely place, grabbed a hold and started to haul himself upwards. He was never sure afterward exactly what happened, he only knew that one minute he had a strong grip, the next he was yelling in terror as he fell. It seemed like he had fallen for miles, but in reality it was only a few feet before a protruding rock brought him to a halt. There he lay, his ten-year-old mind sure he was going to die, not able to get up or go down. The three standing below were horror struck. They didn't know how to help their friend, and they were terrified of reporting the news to Tom Barkley or their own fathers.

Just as Nick was sure he was going to end his days right there, he heard a voice call him from above. He couldn't see anyone when he looked up, but then the call came again. It was Jarrod.

"Nick! Nick! Are you okay?" The sound of his older brother's voice was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard.

"I'm here! I'm here, Jarrod! Get me outta here!" He called out as loudly as he dared on his precarious perch.

"Hold on, Nick. I've got a rope here and I'll get it down to you as fast as I can!"

It seemed like ages, but finally he saw the rope thrown from above, like a lifeline from heaven. It was about ten feet too high and over to the right. After several more tries, which seemed like a lifetime to the frightened boy, the rope landed close enough for him to grab. Jarrod had tied it into a loop, which Nick carefully pulled over his head and shoulders, tightening it under his arms.

"Okay, Jarrod, its ready, pull me out of here!" A moment later, the rope tightened around him even more, and Nick felt himself being pulled upwards. Half walking up the side, half floating at the end of the rope, Nick could see the top of the cliff. From a distance, he heard Jarrod yell "whoa" to his horse, then a moment later his head popped into view.

"You're almost there, Nick!" Jarrod called, grabbing the rope and hauling Nick up the rest of the way. Two minutes later, the two brothers lay exhausted, side by side staring up at the blue sky. It was good to be alive.

After regaining his breath and saying a quick prayer promising never to do anything so stupid again, Nick sat up, staring at Jarrod. "Thanks, Jarrod. You saved my life."

Turning on his side, Jarrod rested his head on one hand and stared back. "You're welcome, Nick." There wasn't any point in telling Nick "I told you so", he'd had a hard enough lesson as it was. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Naw. Just a few scratches and bruises. I just wish Carl and the others hadn't seen that." He gave a sigh.

Scrambling to his feet, Jarrod held out a hand to pull Nick up and said. "Heck, none of them would have made it half as far as you did. Just go down there like nothing happened and you'll be a hero, I guarantee it."

Nick looked at him for a moment, a grin starting to form on his lips. "I guess you were right about the climb, so I'll take your word for it. Pappy." He stopped, then put his hand into Jarrod's.

Jarrod looked back at him for a moment, pulled Nick to his feet, then broke into a grin. A moment later, the two were laughing, half in happiness, half in hysterics. From that moment, the name Pappy had been one of affection between them.

Lost in memories of days gone by, Nick became aware of voices, and the sounds of someone walking around on the floor above. Were they real or hallucinations induced by pain, desperation and lack of food and water? Had Bella returned to gloat over her prisoner once more or was help here at last? If he cried out would he be found and saved or would Hyatt appear threatening him? His usually decisive nature subdued by his travails of the last few days, Nick debated with himself for several minutes. His mind was made up for him a moment later when he smelled a new, but familiar odor. Sniffing the air around him, the realization hit hard into his clouded mind. Smoke! He smelled smoke. Fire! The house was on fire!

"Help! Someone! Anyone! Help! Help me! I'm in the basement. Bella! Hyatt! You can't leave me down here like this! Help! Jarrod! Heath! Pappy, where are you?!" Nick cried out over and over. If someone didn't come soon, the lack of water wouldn't matter a bit. The fire would take care of him long before that could take affect.

It was just nine a.m., when Mrs. Strong, Victoria and Audra arrived in Stockton. Mrs. Strong had explained her suspicions about Bella to the other two women, and they had joined forces to find out whatever they could in regard to one Miss Bella Stanton. Pulling their respective buggies up in front of the boarding house, the three descended and entered the building, waiting only long enough for Mrs. Strong to grab a key, before heading to Bella's room.

Turning the key in the lock, Mrs. Strong commented. "I know its my own place, and its very likely that Bella is involved in kidnapping at the very least, but I still feel guilty about this."

Victoria's smile was sympathetic. "I know what you mean, Martha. It's a bit like checking up on your children when they're little. You know you have to do it for their own good, but you still feel rather sneaky about it."

Martha smiled at Audra and said. "I don't know about girls, but my two boys!..." She stopped, shaking her head at long ago memories. Opening the door she gestured the other two in, then followed herself.

Looking around, the three were silent. Then Audra spoke up. "So what exactly are we looking for?"

"Anything. Anything that will tell us where Nick is, why Bella may be involved, who else is involved. Anything at all." Victoria spread her hands apart, indicating everything in the room.

The three split up, Audra going over to where the bed and dresser stood, Victoria to the living area and Mrs. Strong walking into the tiny alcove that served as a kitchenette. There was only silence as they looked through every drawer, at every paper and every possession of Bella Stanton, hoping to find some clue to Nick's whereabouts.

As Heath rode toward Stockman Bridge, he pondered Mrs. Strong's words. Bella Stanton. It didn't make sense. Why on earth would Bella want to hurt Nick? Of course she had arrived in Stockton just a couple of months ago, not too long before the attacks started. Still, she was a teacher. What possible reason could she have? She had always seemed friendly and pleasant, what he had seen of her. Maybe Mrs. Strong was overreacting. She was a nice enough lady, but she was rather nosy. Heath shook his head. He couldn't figure it out. Maybe it would become clear once he talked to Jarrod.

A few minutes later Stockman Bridge came in sight. He could see a man and a woman standing in the middle of the bridge, facing each other about eight or nine feet apart. He couldn't say for sure from this distance, but it had to be Jarrod and Bella. He slowed Charger down a little, giving the two a chance to talk. If Bella did have something to do with this, maybe she would tell Jarrod where Nick was. He was closer now and could tell for sure that the two were indeed Jarrod and Bella. Bella placed her hands on her hips, tossing her head back. She seemed to be gloating over something. Jarrod moved closer to her and...

With a loud exclamation, Heath pulled Charger up hard. Was that a gun Bella had just pulled out? His eyes glued to the two before him, Heath watched, hardly daring to breathe. She was waving her hand around now, pointing it at Jarrod. Yes. It was a gun. It looked like Mrs. Strong had been right after all. Moving the big horse forward, Heath prayed silently that she wouldn't hear him or notice his approach; he was still too far away to be able to hit her from this distance. Glancing toward his brother, he could see that Jarrod was unarmed.

The two on the bridge looked like statues, neither moving, seemingly without life. Bella's hand had dropped down by her side. The next minute went by in a blur. Jarrod walked a step or two toward Bella, one hand raised as if beseeching her. As Heath moved in closer he could hear the shrill voice of Bella Stanton, hate-filled, unearthly, screaming at Jarrod. "Stay where you are, Jarrod! I already know Nick is going to die! I can see what you're feeling, the pain, the hurt, the grief. It won't matter to me if I have to kill you now! I'll know! I'll have it to hold for the rest of my life! The anguish of Nick's death, your pitifulness and failure, and the pain of your own death, crying out from your eyes before all goes dark, and I send you to hell!"

In a flash, Heath had his own gun out, aiming it, yet hoping against hope; he was still too far away to pick his shot. He would have to shoot to kill. He saw the hand go up, the thumb pull back the hammer and the trigger finger move forward.

He fired. Time stood still. The gun dropped and Bella was falling. Heath heard Jarrod's anguished voice as he hurled himself across the distance, trying desperately to catch the falling body. He heard the sound of breaking boards as the side of the bridge gave way, and Bella was tossed into the water below. A split second later, Jarrod landed with a loud thud, his cry of grief and woe tearing through Heath like an arctic wind.

White and shaken, Heath sat stock still on Charger, listening to the cries of pain and loss which emanated from his brother. "Bella! Beth! Beth, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Nick! Nick! Nick!" A glimmer of understanding pierced Heath's mind--pain for the downfall of a one-time sister-in-law, sorrow and apology to a wife and sister, grief at the loss of a brother.

Heath re-holstered his gun, dismounted from Charger and, on legs that felt like rubber, walked the remaining distance to the bridge and halfway across to where Jarrod lay face down. He was quiet now, but did not look up at the approaching footsteps. Swallowing hard, Heath squatted down next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. What could he say?

It was Jarrod who stirred first, moving his head to one side, then pushing himself to his knees. Sitting back on his heels, he stared bleary-eyed at Heath. It was at that moment that Heath saw the blood.

"Jarrod, you're hurt!"

Glancing down with unconcern, Jarrod stared at the blood on his shoulder, touched it with a finger and then said in a lifeless tone. "Its nothing. Just a graze. I don't even feel it."

As Jarrod started to his feet, Heath reached out his hands to support him. Jarrod rocked slightly, and Heath caught him with steadying arms. He was trembling. "Easy. Don't try to move too fast, big brother." Heath placed his hand on Jarrod's shoulder trying to get a better look at the wound. He hadn't heard two shots. They must have come so close together they sounded like one. Luckily, his own shot must have spoiled Bella's aim just in time, sending the bullet upward, hitting Jarrod's shoulder rather than going through his heart.

Lifting his head, Jarrod stared in silence at Heath, almost as if he wasn't quite aware who he was. Heath spoke up. "I'm sorry, Jarrod. I didn't want to shoot her. I saw the gun and heard what she said. She would have killed you. I was too far away to pick my shot. It happened so fast!" Heath was aware that he was babbling, but he wanted to take that look off Jarrod's face.

Still without speaking, Jarrod turned and walked to the side of the bridge, looking over at the high, rushing water caused by the rains of the night before. There was no body in sight. She would have been swiftly carried downstream.

"I don't know where Nick is, Heath! Bella's dead now and I don't know where he is! How will we ever find him?!"

"I'll get it." Mrs. Strong said, waving a hand at the other two. Walking to the door, she pulled it open, revealing Jarrod and Heath. The two brothers gazed at the shambles inside. Papers and clothing were strewn everywhere, furniture was pulled out and the three women were dusty and disheveled.

With Jarrod close behind, Heath walked into the room and asked. "Have you found anything?"

Across the room, Victoria sat back on her heels and started to reply. "Nothing so far, but..." She stopped as her gaze came to rest on her eldest son. Something was wrong. Rising to her feet, Victoria queried. "What's happened, Jarrod?"

Raising his head to meet her gaze, Jarrod's soft reply came. "Bella is dead."

There was a gasp of disbelief from Audra, Mrs. Strong's hand flew to her mouth as she cried out, and Victoria stood silent, waiting for more.

Jarrod continued. "Bella was really Isabella Randall, Beth's sister. She was behind this whole thing from the beginning." He stopped, his eyes filled with silent pain. "There's no time to go into this now. I still don't know where Nick is. She wouldn't tell me and we're running out of time. Haven't you found anything that might tell us where she hid him?"

Victoria cleared her throat. All that Jarrod hadn't said, she could see in his eyes. And her own fear for her harum-scarum son was threatening to overwhelm her. "We still have a few things to look through, but so far there isn't a clue." She walked a step closer then said, concern in her voice. "Jarrod, is that blood on your shirt?"

"Its nothing, Mother. Just a scratch. I'll take care of it later." Changing the subject, he added. "We stopped at the sheriff's office before we came here. Fred has men out looking in the areas we didn't cover yesterday. We told him about Bella and he said he'd have the men concentrate away from the ranch. Since we know Bella was lying about Nick taking the buggy home Friday night, its likely that she hid him in the opposite direction. If we just knew where they had that picnic." Jarrod halted, shaking his head once again at his own blindness.

Audra spoke up. "Surely someone will find him soon. Now that they're looking in the right area, someone's bound to come across him."

"There's an awful lot of country out there, Sis." Heath said. "It sure would help if we could narrow the area down a little."

"It looks like the only way we're going to do that, is the hard way. Let's go, Heath. We can start east of town and work from there." Jarrod was impatient to leave.

Victoria's smile was grim. "We'll keep looking here. Please, find him."

The two men nodded and without another word, exited the room. After watching them leave, Victoria turned, bent over and picked up the small box from the floor. Walking over to the davenport, she sat down with it in her lap. Fingering the engraved initials, sudden tears burned her eyes: E.R. This must have belonged to Beth, the lovely daughter-in-law whom she had known for such a short time. And now her sister too was dead and Nick... She stopped. Her mother's heart wouldn't let her go down that path.

Opening the box, Victoria found herself staring into the eyes of Bella Stanton. No. Randall. She shivered, then quickly picked the picture up, looking beneath. Beth's serene gaze met hers. Victoria contemplated the picture for a moment. She recalled her own words to Jarrod when he had first set off on his own rampage. ""Now, Jarrod you listen to me. I didn't know Beth very well. But I do know revenge is not what she would have wanted." What would Beth say to all this? Shaking her head, Victoria went on looking through the contents, some jewelry, perfume, soap, personal items, more papers.

Picking up the next document, Victoria unfolded it, glanced at it and tossed it down. Even as she did so, realization struck and she grabbed the sheet up with a loud exclamation which brought Audra and Martha Strong to her side.

"What is it, Mother? Did you find something?" Audra asked.

Rising to her feet, Victoria exclaimed. "This is it! It has to be where Nick is! We have to catch the boys. Quickly!"

Victoria raced out of Bella's room, Audra and Mrs. Strong in her wake. Opening the front door, she stepped out and glanced up and down the street. To her left she could see Jarrod and Heath at the end of the street, heading out of town. Heedless of her own injured arm, Victoria grabbed the reins off the hitching post, dove into the buggy, pulled hard on the reins to turn Scottie around and yelled "Yahhh" all in one motion, leaving the other two women behind. Whipping up the horse, she careened down the street, causing pedestrians and riders alike to veer out of her way.

Yelling at the top of her lungs, Victoria continued her mad dash through Stockton, trying to get her sons' attention. "Jarrod! Heath! Wait! Wait up!" She was gaining on them now, and finally she saw the two pull up their horses and turn around. "I've got it! Jarrod! Heath! I've got it!"

The two glanced at each other, as their mother's words sank in, then they urged their horses forward. The three came together just on the outskirts of town.

"What is it, Mother? What did you find?" Jarrod felt his mother's excitement.

Thrusting the paper toward him, Victoria said. "It's a deed from the County Assessor's Office. Bella paid the taxes on the old Emory Davis ranch. Nick has to be there! Its northeast of here where no one would have thought to look yesterday. He's there! I know he's there!"

Jarrod and Heath both smiled with relief and delight. "That has to be it, Mother!" Heath got the words out first. "Nobody goes near that old broken-down place and there's plenty of places to hide a horse and buggy!"

"Let's go get Nick!" Jarrod shouted. Turning as one, the two pushed their horses into a gallop heading northeast for the old Davis place.

Taking a deep breath, Victoria watched them disappear, then picked up the reins once again. Looking toward heaven, she breathed a quick prayer of thank-you, then started to follow. A moment later, she heard the sound of a fast-moving buggy coming up behind her. Glancing back, she saw Mrs. Strong driving her rented buggy hellbent for leather, and Audra holding on for dear life. The sight of the women's wild ride through Stockton was something that would be talked about for many years.

Pulling up next to her, Mrs. Strong yelled out. "Did you catch them?"

"Yes. They're on their way to the Emory Davis place. Bella paid the taxes on the ranch. Nick has to be there!"

Mrs. Strong grinned broadly and said. "I knew we'd find him! Let's go, shall we?"

Audra had her own unspeakable memories of that particular old house, but now her only concern was Nick. "Thank God! Surely Nick is all right, and we'll have him home soon!" She added. "Mother, you'd better let me drive the buggy. You really shouldn't be using your arm like that. It's a wonder you haven't hurt it again!"

With her arm aching, Victoria couldn't argue with her daughter. Transferring to the ranch buggy, Audra took up the reins, and the two buggies started down the road to the old Emory Davis place.

Riding hard the whole way, Jarrod and Heath made good time to the old, run-down ranch. Ahead on Charger, Heath came to a sudden stop in the middle of the hill that Nick had climbed the day of the picnic. Was that smoke curling into the air? Jarrod's gasp from behind him confirmed it. It seemed like this nightmare was never going to end! Yelling loudly, Heath raced Charger up the hill and down the other side, easily outrunning Jarrod on Seneca.

Behind Heath, Jarrod too saw the black smoke rising into the air from the hill beyond. It couldn't be! They were so close! Nick had to be here, surely they hadn't arrived now, only to lose him like this! Digging his heels into Seneca's sides, he sent the horse after his brother, his mind in turmoil. This couldn't be happening! The old wreck had stood here for years. How had it caught on fire now? Bella was dead. She'd been shot and had fallen into the rushing water over two hours ago. She couldn't have survived that, could she? Even if she had, she surely wouldn't have had the strength to come back here and do this.

"She's dead. She's dead. I know she's dead." The words kept repeating themselves over and over. This fire had to be some kind of horrible coincidence.

Reaching the crest of the hill, Jarrod stared at the house below, now engulfed in flames. He saw Heath jumping off Charger and out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone move toward his brother. Racing down the hill, Jarrod shouted at Heath trying to make him aware of the danger. At the bottom, he was off Seneca's back before the horse had come to a complete stop. Turning, he saw Heath struggling with Ted and Lloyd MacKenzie.

"What are you, crazy?" The older MacKenzie shouted at Heath, holding onto one arm.

Holding on to Heath's other arm, Lloyd yelled as well. "That place is gonna go any minute now. You can't go in there, you'll be killed!"

"My brother's in there! Let me go!" Heath yelled back.

Jarrod jumped into the fray. "Let him go! Nick's in there. Or maybe you already know that!"

Letting go of Heath, the two turned to face this new attack. Lloyd spoke first, his hands clenched. "Are you accusing us of something, Jarrod?"

"Did you start the fire?" Jarrod returned.

Ted answered. "That's right. And we looked around beforehand and didn't see anyone. Even if there was, you sure couldn't go in there now."

"Why? Why did you do it?" Heath was glaring at them both.

Lloyd piped up. "Its what the owner wanted, that teacher, Miss Stanton. She came up to us yesterday right off the train from Colorado. Heck, she paid us five hundred dollars! Told us if she wasn't here by ten o'clock to go ahead and burn down the buildings. They're all a wreck anyway and she wanted the land cleared off. Course we haven't done the old stable yet, since Davy just now moved the horse and buggy that were in there."

Jarrod stared. Bella! Even from her watery grave, she had reached out her hand to wreak her vengeance against him. His anguished gaze went to the burning house. "You looked everywhere? You're sure?"

"Upstairs and downstairs. Sure we did." Lloyd was getting mad. Nobody was going to accuse him of burning someone alive.

"What about the basement? That old house has a basement. I went through it a year ago. Did you check there?" Jarrod could picture the basement in his mind. He and Fred had checked out the whole house after Audra's encounter there with Doctor James Beldon.

"Basement? We didn't see any basement. If there was one, the door must have been covered up." Ted was anxious now.

Waiting for no more, Jarrod turned and ran, Heath on his heels. Reaching the front door, he pulled it open and was met by a sheet of flames. Backing away, he started around the house, looking for a basement window; it would be the only way now. His head down, searching, Jarrod could feel the heat from the growing fire inside, but didn't stop. There! Motioning to Heath, he raced forward another six feet, stopped to get his balance, then kicked at the glass below. He could barely hear the shatter above the roaring flames, but paid no attention to the impending danger.

Dropping to his knees, Jarrod pushed his head and shoulders through the empty space, heedless of any remaining glass. Ignoring the pain from his shoulder, he pulled the rest of his body through, held his breath, then dropped into the unknown darkness below. Landing heavily, his left leg gave way. Reaching for the wall, he prevented himself from falling further, and pulled himself upright.

The room was dark and smoky; he could feel the unbearable heat from the flames above. Coughing and gagging, he realized that there might be more air near the floor. Dropping once again to his knees, he found the air was indeed clearer here. Crawling across the room, he began to call for his brother.

"Nick! Nick! Can you hear me? Are you there?" He knew Nick was there in the darkness, but had he come too late? Had the heat and smoke already taken their toll?

Outside, Heath had been joined by all three of the MacKenzie brothers, who were anxious to help. Turning to them, he said. "I'm going inside. You wait here and when we find Nick, we'll hand him out to you." The three nodded and watched as Heath disappeared below.

Crawling around the basement, Jarrod kept calling out to Nick. How big was this place anyway? It seemed as if he'd been crawling around in here for years. He heard Heath coughing behind him and shouted out. "I'm over here! Search the other side of the room. Its easier if you get down on your hands and knees!"

A loud creaking sound and a crash from above interrupted him. Heath yelled out. "Jarrod, this whole place is going to cave in on us! We don't have much time!"

"I'm not leaving without Nick! He's here somewhere! Nick! Nick!" Even as he shouted out his brother's name, his hand hit something that wasn't board or plaster. It was softer, more yielding. A body? Feeling forward with his hands, Jarrod was sure. Yes. A leg, a torso. Moving higher. A face! "Nick! Nick! Heath! I've found him! Over here! Hurry!"

Patting his brother's face, Jarrod felt no response. Was he alive? Bending over, his ear next to Nick's mouth, he strained to hear. There! Slow and shallow, but he was breathing! "He's alive! Let's get him out of here!"

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Heath was next to him. "I'll get on the other side." Feeling with his hands, Heath maneuvered himself over Nick's inert form then added. "Okay. Let's go!"

Reaching for Nick's arm, which was flung above his head, Jarrod tried to pull it upwards, but met with resistance. "What the devil!" He exclaimed. Following the arm up to the hand, he felt the handcuff around the wrist. Horror ran through him. Before he could explain the situation, a loud popping noise came from behind Heath and with a roar, the ceiling fell in.

Both brothers ducked, throwing their arms up protectively against the enormous blast of heat. Sparks flew around them and pieces of boards went flying. Lifting their heads, the two stared at each other, now able to see by the light of the roaring flames.

"We've got to get out of here now!" Heath bellowed.

"We can't! Look at his wrists!" Jarrod shouted.

Heath looked down; the awful truth staring back at him. He looked at Jarrod, despair in his eyes.

Jarrod's helpless eyes stared back. Then with a loud cry, he was on his feet. "No! Its not going to end like this!" Jumping forward, Jarrod looked closely at the manacled wrists. One bracelet of each handcuff was around Nick's wrists, the other was attached to the feet of a huge, wooden set of shelves filled with old canning jars and other odds and ends.

"Come on, Heath, help me! This isn't attached to anything. Push the cuffs all the way to the floor, then we can knock it over and the handcuffs will slip right off."

Heath complied with his brother's instructions. Then the two put their backs into the job and shoved with all their might. Sweat poured from them, tears ran from their smoke-filled eyes and their breathing came hard and labored. Still they pushed on. Jarrod glanced down, catching sight of Nick's still and helpless body. With a cry of fury, he attacked the wooden frame with all the fear, anger and grief of that long day. It moved, an inch, a foot, and then with a grinding crash, the brothers pushed it into the flames beyond.

Grabbing Nick by his legs and arms, they raced toward the window across the room. Smoke, heat, flying embers and white-hot flames chased them, but finally they were there. Yelling loudly, Heath got the attention of the three who waited outside, and six willing hands reached down, plucking Nick out of the hellfire. Heath and Jarrod followed a moment later.

Across the yard, Victoria, Audra and Mrs. Strong gave a cry of relief as they saw all three emerge from the blazing house. Rushing forward, they helped the two coughing, smoke-blackened brothers who staggered over toward where Nick had been lain on the ground. Collapsing beside him, the two lay there for a moment, trying to regain their breath. A few seconds later, still wheezing, Jarrod pulled himself to a sitting position and leaned over Nick.

"Nick! Nick! Can you hear me? Wake up, Nick! Nick, its Pappy! You're safe now. Wake up!" Turning to the others, he asked. "Does anyone have any water?"

Nodding his head, Lloyd said. "I've got a canteen on my horse. I'll get it." He disappeared around the stable.

Victoria spoke up. "Bring the buggy over here, Audra, quickly!" To Jarrod she added. "We need to get him to the doctor!"

"I know, Mother. But he swallowed an awful lot of smoke in there. He needs to get some air into his lungs. If he would just wake up, even for a moment!" Turning back to Nick, Jarrod moved closer, cradling his brother's head in his arms. He called to him once again. "Come on, Nick. Open your eyes. Show us that stubborn, mule-headed Nick Barkley is still with us!"

Nick's head moved slightly, then a wisp of a cough came, followed by a flicker of an eyelash. Nick's eyes opened and he took in a great gasp of air, which was followed by a fit of choking and coughing. Jarrod felt the jerks and tremors run through Nick's body as he held him close; he didn't let go. The spasm calmed, the wheezing quieted, and Jarrod found himself looking into Nick's hazel eyes. They were bleary, pain-filled and confused, but a spark still shone from them. His mouth opened, and Jarrod leaned close to catch the whispered words.

"What took you so long, Pappy?"

Epilogue

A week had gone by since Bella's death and Nick's rescue from the old Davis house. Bodies were healing, but hearts and minds would need more time. Nick had been out of bed for two days now, although he still coughed from the smoke inhalation he'd suffered. Jarrod's shoulder was all but healed, and his earlier injuries were fast becoming a dim memory. Nick had visited Bella's grave for the first time that day, and now, seated in the living room, Jarrod and Nick were quiet, each lost in his own thoughts.

Fred had found Bella's body later that same day. After some debate, she had been laid to rest next to her sister in the Stockton cemetery. Jarrod had changed Beth's tombstone once again, and it now read: ‘Beloved Wife and Sister.' That one, along with Bella's, had been put in place just today with the whole family present.

Nick's eyes flicked down for a second to glance at Bella's marker, and then away. He was the first to walk away. Heath and Audra soon followed, and a few minutes later, Jarrod looked up from Beth's site, to see his mother standing next to Bella's.

Walking to her side, he heard her whisper. "Who leave the right way, and walk by dark ways. For her house inclineth unto death, and her paths to hell."

Jarrod shivered, then asked. "What is that?"

Without looking up, Victoria replied. "Its from Proverbs. It came into my head this morning. I..." She paused.

"I walked that dark way once." Jarrod's voice was quiet.

"Yes. For a short while." She looked up then, tears glimmering in her eyes. "But you stopped and turned around. Bella. She continued on."

"I might have too, if Nick and Heath hadn't stopped me. It was only when I saw Nick standing there before me, putting his own body between me and Hyatt, that I came to my senses, that I realized what it was I was actually doing." Jarrod glanced down.

Bella's marker read, ‘Isabella Randall, Beloved Sister.'

He returned his gaze to his mother. "I had that thought, when I faced Bella on the bridge. I tried to reason with her, but it would have been like Cass Hyatt trying to reason with me. If only it could have been Beth standing there before her, she might have listened, she might have stepped off that dark path."

Victoria was nodding her head. "I know, Jarrod. I know. I was going to add that after I remembered that verse, it seemed so dark and hopeless. But I realized I couldn't judge her. She had no one else, and Beth's death left her completely empty. She allowed her grief to overwhelm her to where she couldn't see anyway but that dark one. How responsible was she, Jarrod, lost in that madness and grief?"

Jarrod closed his eyes, opened them and said. "And she was mad. I saw it in her eyes, heard it in her voice those last few minutes. At that moment, I don't think anyone could have reached her." He put a hand out, touching the cold stone before him. "She's in the hands of a Judge who doesn't make mistakes, I guess we have to leave it at that."

Arm in arm, mother and son proceeded from the cemetery, leaving it quiet and peaceful once more.

Jarrod was brought back to reality when Heath and Victoria entered the living room. In the chair next to his, Nick stirred as well.

Victoria spoke first. "Its been a very long day and I am going to bed. I just wanted to say good night."

Rising to their feet, Jarrod and Nick smiled at her, then walked forward, standing next to Heath. She glanced at each of her sons, then said. "Its so good to have all of my family under one roof again, safe and sound. Its also nice to know that you will always be there for each other. I think if I've learned anything, its how lucky I am, how lucky we all are to have one another." Her eyes filled with tenderness, she kissed each son in turn, then added. "Good night, my sons."

"Good night, Mother." The three brothers stood, watching her climb the stairs and disappear down the hallway. Jarrod placed a hand on Heath's shoulder and Heath turned to him, a question in his dark blue eyes.

"Heath, with everything that's been going on, I don't think I've properly thanked you for saving my life. Thank you." Simple and direct, but his eyes spoke volumes.

Heath smiled. "I'm just glad that I was there to save it." Trying to lighten the moment, he added. "Besides, you should be thanking Mrs. Strong, not me. She's the one who peeked at Bella's note and told me where you were."

The three shared a laugh, picturing in their minds the friendly, but nosy, elderly woman. Nick grinned. "What I wouldn't give to have seen her and Mother racing through the streets of Stockton!" Becoming serious again, he added. "Its my turn now. I wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for the two of you. You never gave up on me. Thank you."

Before the brotherly camaraderie could turn embarrassing, Heath said. "Well, I have to go check on Charger's leg, and then I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Good night, Heath." The two older brothers spoke in unison, watching him exit through the front door.

There was silence for a moment, then both started to speak at once. "Jarrod, about Bella..." Nick, about Bella..." They stopped. Jarrod held up his hand. "Neither of us could have known the truth, Nick. And I don't think either of us have anything to apologize for either. We can't go back and change what happened, and maybe part of it we wouldn't want to anyway. We have to go on. Let go of the bad parts and remember only the good. And some of it was good, Nick."

Nick nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Some of it was good. I guess I have to go along with Mother. I'm real lucky to have all of you." He stopped, then flashed a grin, a dimple appearing in one cheek. "Even you, Pappy!" Giving Jarrod a swat on the shoulder, he turned and headed toward the front door, calling back over his shoulder. "I've got a bet to make with that boy out there. Thinks he can beat me at calf roping and shooting, does he?"