The brilliant sun shone warm upon the streets of Twin Forks on this first day of May. The sky was a splendid blue, accented by puffy white clouds. The happy voices of children at play graced the air. On any given day it would be good to be alive, Dr. Edward Wallace thought as he turned from the happy scene outside his office window. It seemed the interior of his office was filled with the gray gloom of winter.

He finished his notes and closed the file. He turned to face the woman on the examining table. He hadn't known her very long, only these last pain-filled months. He had come to admire her very much. She was only in her early 40's and the beauty of her youth was still very evident. In their conversations he had come to admire her strength, grace and dignity.Delivering news like this was always hard. Delivering it to her would be especially painful.

"We'll talk after you get dressed. I'll get your son." He offered.

She sat up as they approached her. Her smile of hope faded quickly when she saw the truth in the doctor's eyes. He patted her shoulder and tried to be hopeful.The brave smile she held didn't hide the disconcert in her heart. Her son sat next to her and she gained from the strength of his hand, gripping hers tightly.

"I'm sorry Leah, I wish I could give you better news. The tumor has grown quite a bit over the winter. You're breathing difficulties, dizziness and weakness can be attributed to this."

"Is there anything you can do Dr. Wallace?" She asked hopefully.

"A skilled surgeon might be able to remove the tumor. There is great risk in this type of surgery. There is no way of telling just how large the tumor is. Also, even if the tumor were removed, there is no way to predict what lies ahead. That is...well...To put it plainly, it might be temporarily postponing the inevitable."

Leah looked over at her twenty-one year old son Heath. He was so strong and handsome. Those blue eyes that seemed to smile just for her were now filled with pain. The shock of the news seemed to take his breath away. She heard him exhale heavily as he finally found his voice.

"Dr. Wallace, would you give us a few minutes?"

"Certainly son, I'll be right outside. You take all the time you need."

Dr. Wallace went outside and sat down on the steps of his front porch, he felt so bad about Leah. She was all the family the boy had and they seemed very close. He would be devastated by her death. His conversations with Heath were limited. He knew how hard the boy worked. She had done a Herculean task raising him alone, often in poverty. He imagined that is where Heath gained his honesty and integrity.

Heath stared out the window, oblivious to the actions on the street. He felt nothing but a cold ache inside his chest. How much more could she be expected to bear? Losing Hannah and Rachel, her two best friends to the influenza epidemic in January and now this.

She watched him from across the room and marveled at the man he had become. Wasn't it just yesterday when he would sit on her lap, his blond head tucked under her chin. Now he was so tall and true. She was so proud of him. She thought of the doctor's words and made her decision.

"Heath?"

He turned and sat beside her. He captured her small form and held her close.

"Let it out Mama. Come on, let it go."

He felt the petite frame shake as she sobbed into his chest.He closed his eyes and two stray tears found their way down his cheeks. He rocked her in his arms and comforted her.Finally, the sobs slowed and halted. She wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and turned to him.

"I've decided to put my faith in the Lord, Son. This has become too much of a burden for us. You are so young and have suffered so much sorrow already. God will provide, as he always has."

She felt him stiffen and saw anger flash in those blue eyes.

"God? Mama you told me from little up that I was part of God's plan. I never questioned why he saw fit to make me a poor bastard kid. Or why I spent my childhood working in a mine. There are a lot of things I could have lost my faith over, but I never did, I always believed. You have to believe too."

She reached a small hand up and stroked his face. He had already lived a long life in his twenty-one years. He never complained, even as a small child he accepted his role. "Mama, you can't give up, I won't let you. You and Hannah fed me faith as often as food. I have faith in the Lord, too. I believe God will guide that surgeon's hands, Mama."

"The doctor said it might not really change anything. It's a big risk, Heath. I don't want to see you suffer anymore. Maybe we have to accept the fact that I am dying."

"NO! As long as there is hope, it's worth the risk. You're never been a quitter, Mama. You can't quit now. "Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."

She thought on his words and the words from the Bible. Hannah would be pleased at how much Heath respected the Bible and the verses she taught him over the years. She hugged him and kissed his cheek. She gave him her best smile.

"Ask Dr. Wallace to come in Heath. We'll see if he can recommend a good surgeon."

Two weeks later, San Francisco General Hospital.

Heath paced nervously in the waiting room of Dr. George Whitman's office. He was one of the top surgeons in the west and had been kind enough to see them. Heath was waiting for the examination to conclude. It seemed to be taking forever. He hadn't slept much in the last two weeks. His weariness often battled the nervous energy in his system, leaving him frazzled. On the train he had tried to be positive. Now his mother was fairly confident in her decision. Heath had no idea how much such an operation would cost. How would they pay for it?

He felt someone shake his arm and turned to see a nurse at his side. She smiled at the handsome blond man.

"You must be a million miles away, Mr. Thomson. You never heard me calling you. Please go in, the doctor is waiting to speak with you."

"Thank you Ma'am."

Heath sat next to his mother and took her hand and tried to hide the worry he felt inside. Dr. Whitman was a handsome figure of a man in his fifties. Dr. Wallace told them his skill was well known. He leaned forward and spoke to them directly.

"What kind of environment is there in Strawberry? I am asking because I noticed from Dr. Wallace's notes that you live quite a distance from Twin Forks, where he is located."

"Strawberry is all but a ghost town now doctor. It was once a booming mining town. There is no doctor there. Twin Forks was the closest town with a doctor. Why do you ask?" Leah said.

"Well, Miss Thomson, if I perform this surgery, you will require treatment and care afterwards. The best environment for you would be a warmer, dryer one. I feel the tumor is removable, but until the operation is completed, I won't know how much damage was done."

"You mean how much longer I have to live?"

"Yes, there are no guarantees. It's very possible, removing the tumor will solve your problem. On the other hand, it may be too large to remove or I may encounter other complications. You would remain here for awhile until you are strong enough to travel. By then we will know how best to address the remainder of your recovery."

"Would you be able to perform the operation soon?" She asked.

"Yes, as soon as possible. Right now you're strong enough and it would be wise to proceed."

"Heath, I'd like to be alone for a few minutes."

Heath looked at his mother and with some hesitation, he finally rose. He brushed the top of her brown hair with his lips. With a confident squeeze to her shoulders, he left. The doctor followed him outside.

Dr. Whitman read Dr. Wallace's notes about the Thomson's. He saw the pain in the boy's eyes and knew he was trying hard to be strong. He watched the blond young man shift his feet and clear his throat several times. Something was on the boy's mind.

"Son, is there something you want to ask me?"

"Yes sir, um, I need to know how much it will cost. I reckon you know by now we're not rich folks. If my Mama is going to be here awhile, I gotta find a job. How does the bill part work?"

He laid a hand on the troubled boy's shoulder and tried to ease his mind. This poor boy seemed overwhelmed, already carrying so much on his strong frame.

"Son, your only priority now will be to support your mother during the surgery and aftermath. I can't tell you an exact figure. Normally, surgery like this with hospitalization afterwards runs about $250-$300."

Heath staggered and would have fallen if the doctor hadn't grabbed him. He sat down hard on the chair in the waiting room. He never saw that much money in his whole life. How on earth would he come up with such an amount?

The doctor saw the color drain from Heath's face and saw his hands trembling. He sat down next to him and spoke firmly.

"Look son, I don't want you to worry about that now. I wanted to prepare you. I don't handle that area, the billing department does. Heath, we will work something out. You can pay in installments if you like. All you need to do now is to be strong for your mother."

Heath continued to look at the floor. He felt a rush of heat on his face. He finally raised his head and looked into the doctor's eyes. He saw only compassion and concern. This doctor wasn't judging him as a poverty case. The warmth in his eyes showed how much he really cared.

"Okay now, son? Are we agreed that you won't get sick over this?"

Heath reluctantly nodded and shook the doctor's hand. He heard the door open and his mother approached them. She took Heath's hand and spoke to the surgeon.

"I guess we'll be staying doctor. I'm putting my faith in you and God. I'm confident I'll get through this."

"Miss Thomson, I put my faith in God every day. I guess I'm in good company. Nurse Jenkins will help you to your room and get you settled. I'll stop in and see you later."

Jarrod Barkley entered the lobby of San Francisco General Hospital. He quickly covered the distance to the receptionist and waited impatiently for her to notice him. Finally she looked up and addressed him.

"Yes sir, can I help you?"

"I'm Jarrod Barkley. I received word that Martin Gibson was brought in here early this morning. I would like to know what his condition is."

"Are you family sir?"

"No, but we're very close. I've known the Gibson's for many years. I'm the junior partner in his law firm. Is his wife Margaret here?"

"Please wait while I check."

She got up and walked down the hall. It seemed to take forever for her to return. She motioned for him to follow her. He caught up to her and she directed him to a flight of stairs.

"Mr. Gibson is in surgery. He has appendicitis. His wife has been contacted. She is out of town but is expected by tomorrow. The waiting area is on the next floor just to the right of the stairwell. It's clearly marked. I've instructed them to notify you when the surgery is completed. If you stay in the waiting area, someone will update you."

Jarrod thanked her and had no difficulty finding the waiting room. He left his apartment in a rush, just after 9 a.m. He hadn't shaved and needed coffee. The nurse at the desk just outside the waiting room told him that there was coffee in there.

When he entered he saw a young man jump up and then dejectedly sit back down. The book the boy was reading fell to the floor. He realized the boy was waiting for news and the entrance startled him. He noticed the book that the young man resumed reading was a worn, dog-earred Bible.

"That's a fine choice," Jarrod said indicating the book.

"Yeah, me and this old Bible have been through a lot together. It takes me to a real comforting place."

He saw the coffee and a tray of cookies and small cakes on a table nearby. He poured two cups and sat down next to the young man.

"Coffee?"

"Thank you, Sir."

"I'm sorry if I startled you. 'Sir' seems a little too formal, not to mention that it makes me feel ancient. My name is Jarrod Barkley."

The boy looked up at him and Jarrod's breath caught in his throat. He was startled for some reason. The smile he wore disappeared as he stared at the blue eyes that seem so very familiar. The fair features and soft smile seem to be well known to him. But how? He never met the boy. He felt goosebumps and looked down embarrassed at the boy's extended hand.

"Are you okay Mr. Barkley. You didn't seem to hear me."

"Please forgive me. You look so familiar. You're not from this area are you?"

"No sir, uh ... I mean Mr. Barkley. I'm from a dead mining town up north. We came here so my Mama could have a tumor removed. My name is Heath Thomson. How about you, Mr. Barkley? Do you live here in San Francisco?"

"Part of the time, I'm an attorney and my partner and I have a large practice here. But I was born in Stockton; I spend a great deal of time there as well, on my family's ranch. My partner is undergoing surgery."

Heath eyes widened as he made the connection with the name Barkley and Stockton. This man must be Thomas Barkley's son. He had never been to Stockton, but knew a little about the Barkley's. Tom Barkley's name and good reputation were well known. From what he heard, they owned most of Northern California. The ranch was one of the largest in the state.

"Your pa, he's Tom Barkley?" Heath saw Jarrod nod. "You're lucky. I mean, having somebody like that for a father and a fine ranch and all. Must be nice."

"I am lucky, Heath. I have a wonderful father. But that comes from within, not wealth and fortune. My father started out with one small piece of land and a dream. He was lucky enough to find a beautiful, strong woman to embrace him and his ideals. We're a very close family. My father's creed is hard work. I've never known anyone finer. How about you Heath? Is your father or any other family with you today?"

Jarrod saw the color rise in Heath's face and saw him shift uncomfortably in his chair. He knew he made a mistake before Heath's words found their way out.

"My mama wasn't... I mean I have no father...no family. It's just me and my Mama."

"I'm sorry Heath. This must be very hard for you. Your mother is very lucky to have you."

Heath just nodded and resumed reading his book. Jarrod thought for awhile about how hard it must be to have no family. No one to lean on, to turn to. He saw the worn clothes and scuffed boots. Combined with the reference made to the "dead mining town" indicated that they were probably poor. He looked up as his name was called. A nurse indicated for him to follow her. He stood and extended his hand to the quiet boy.

"Good luck Heath."

"Thanks Mr. Barkley. I sure hope your friend's okay."

Jarrod stopped at the door and felt awfully sad. He looked at the blond man and thought how terribly alone in the world he was. He couldn't shake the feeling all day. Even as he worked in his office, his mind would travel to the forlorn figure he left in the waiting room.

Dr. Whitman sat next to Leah Thomson and tried to offer some hope. She turned to him and reached over to grasp his hand. She was very weak and he gave her a reassuring smile.

"Don't try to talk too much. The operation took longer than expected. It's amazing that you are still here with us. A tumor that size puts a lot of pressure on the lungs."

Leah knew from his eyes and heard what he didn't say. It wasn't good news.

"How long?" She asked bluntly.

"Well that's hard to say. I was able to remove a large portion of the tumor. You will feel better initially, but I saw evidence of more damage. I can't recommend any additional surgery. I have good friends who run a fine Inn down by Santa Barbara. It's right on the ocean. The unruly sea, sandy beach and warmth of the sun form a healing place and a very spiritual one as well. The mission is close by and I think you will find great comfort there. If you like, I'll write to them. Only God knows when you will be called. My best guess would be six months. I'm so very sorry, Miss Thomson."

She closed her eyes and continued to squeeze his hand.She would go to this special place and get ready to go home to God. Her only concern was leaving Heath alone. There was a lot for her to think on. When the time was right, she would tell him about his father. She opened her eyes and looked at the doctor.

"It's Leah, Doctor and I have a favor to ask. I don't want Heath to know."

"Leah, are you sure? He so devoted to you, don't you feel he has the right to know?"

"Doctor Whitman, you don't know him like I do. That boy will blame himself until his dying day. He carries too many burdens already. He punishes himself unduly. If he knows, it will destroy the faith he has. I'll go to Santa Barbara and make my peace there. Heath has to think there is hope, he'll be shattered otherwise."

"All right, Leah, I promise. I wire the Bradley's. Dave and Martha a good people, they'll take good care of you."

"Doctor Whitman, thank you for everything. I appreciate all the extra work you're doing."

"Leah, I learned from an early age at my father's knee about kindness. My parents worked hard and we didn't have much money, but our door was always open to those in need. Helping people gives me great satisfaction. It's the reason I became a doctor. Now you get some rest. I'll talk to Heath."

He squeezed the frail shoulder and left. She turned and stared at the painting on the wall of a mountain range. No matter how hard she tried, all she could think of was how alone Heath would be. Her poor silent warrior; fighting battles for the two of them for more than half of his life. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes to rest.

"Oh Tom, what did we do?" she murmured as her heart broke.

Two days later

It was late when Jarrod stopped by the hospital to visit Martin. He found the silver-haired attorney in good spirits.

"Jarrod, what are you doing here so late?"

"I found a back door and snuck in. Don't give me away, I can't afford to get caught. My attorney is in the hospital."

They both laughed and Jarrod spent a half-hour catching Martin up on the affairs of the office. He noticed Martin's high color and inquired on it.

"It's a fever, some kind of infection. I'll have to stay here a little longer."

"You get some rest. I'll stop back tomorrow."

Jarrod bid his friend farewell and made his way down the hall. He took the back stairwell down to the basement and was about to exit when he saw a familiar blond head bent over a crate.

"Heath? What are you doing down here?"

"Hey! Mr. Barkley! How are you? How did your friend make out?"

Jarrod climbed around the crates and found a seat on one near Heath. He noticed by the way Heath had the items arranged that he was very organized.

"I'm fine and so is my partner. He'll be here a little while yet. How is your mother?"

He watched the boy's face fall and the blue eyes fill with concern. He saw the crowbar in the younger man's hands tremble, as did the hands that held it. He put his hand on Heath's shoulder.

"Bad news, Heath?"

"I'm not sure," the young man pained, exhaling heavily, "The doctor said the operation went okay. But she seems so faraway. I think something's wrong."

"She's been through quite an ordeal Heath. Maybe she needs some time to adjust."

Jarrod knew probably that Heath was guessing correctly. His mother wasn't well and maybe wouldn't be recovering. He decided to change the subject.

"So what are you doing lurking in the basement?"

"Dr. Whitman, he's the man who operated on my Mama, he got me a job. I can do just about anything. Hard work is no stranger to me. All these crates were delivered today. I have to unpack them, update the inventory list and see they get delivered to the right floor."

Jarrod looked at the large room filled with dozens of boxes. He was amazed that no one was helping Heath. It seemed an awful lot of work for one person. He talked with Heath for about half an hour. He watched amazed at the precision of his movements. Not one step was wasted. He was not only a hard worker, but also fast and very smart. He seemed to be a jack of all trades. He made references to several jobs. He seemed especially interested in horses and asked Jarrod about the ranch.

"Well, I guess I better get going. If it's okay Heath, I'll stop by tomorrow night."

He smiled at the delight on the face that looked at him. He felt Heath's spirit lift and couldn't help but grin at the answer he got.

"Mind? Boy Howdy, Mr. Barkley, I'll be glad for the company. The only talkin' I get to do is with the critters that run around down here, and they ain't much for conversation."

"Mr. Barkley is my father, I'm Jarrod, okay? Do you get a dinner break? I don't want to hold you from your work."

"Well, the dining hall is closed at night. Don't worry about me working. You won't slow me down."

"In that case, I'll bring dinner. See you tomorrow. Goodnight Heath." He ended cheerfully.

"Goodnight."

Jarrod was almost to the door when he heard Heath call to him.

"Jarrod?" He turned and saw the expressive blue-eyed signal followed by a small, shy grin. "Thanks, for stoppin' by."

He returned the smile and waved on his way out the door, wondering why he still couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu he got everytime he was around that boy.

The next night

Books, of every shape and size surrounded Heath. He was packing them to be transported to the new medical library upstairs. Usually working kept his mind occupied. But he couldn't keep stop thinking about his mother. No matter what her voice told him, his heart knew her eyes held the truth. This journey they would make to Santa Barbara would be her last. He swallowed hard and was so lost in thought he didn't hear Jarrod call to him.

"Heath, are you back there somewhere?"

Jarrod found Heath behind several large piles of books and opened crates. His shoulders were slumped in dejection. Heath had such expressive eyes; Jarrod felt the pain that radiated from the young man. He shook the boy's shoulder and Heath looked up startled.

"Jarrod? Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"That's okay Heath. I didn't mean to disturb you. You seem to be preoccupied."

Heath didn't reply at first. Jarrod watched as he continued to fight some terrible foe inside. He pulled up a small crate and sat next to the troubled young man.

"Do you want to talk about it Heath?"

Heath seemed uncomfortable and shifted nervously. He glanced over and saw the concern the lawyer wore. He spoke so quietly Jarrod had to lean in to hear what he was saying.

"I'm losing her Jarrod. She won't say it, but there is something about her eyes. I think she's hiding something. My mama's never lied to me. The last few days, since the surgery, she has a hard time looking at me. You know what I mean, kinda acting nervous."

Jarrod watched as Heath's face softened and a smile played on his lips. His face lightened as he spoke.

"She has the sweetest voice. When I was little, I used to wake up at night in the dark and forget where I was. I thought I was trapped inside the mine. Then I'd hear her voice singing, sweet and low. I'd feel her hand rubbing my back. It's a powerful thing, a mother's touch."

He stopped as quickly as he started. Jarrod patted his knee and offered what support he could. Nothing he would say could change matters, but he could ease Heath's mind.

"It certainly is Heath. Your mother is a remarkable woman. To raise a boy alone takes courage. Whatever happens Heath, the love she has for you won't die. Keep her close."

Heath turned to the warm voice that had become familiar so quickly. He didn't have to say anything; Jarrod saw it in his eyes. He sat with his new friend for several minutes and then patted the knee heartily and jumped up. He walked over to where he left the basket.

"I'd say a hard working young man like yourself must scare up a good appetite."

Jarrod set the basket down and looked around the large vacant expanse behind him. Only twenty-four hours ago, it was littered with dozens of large crates. How on earth did the boy finish so fast?

"Heath, how did you finish so quickly?"

Heath shrugged and dragged over an empty crate for the two to use as a table.

"Idle hands are the devil's workshop. Hard work is all I know. Been working full time since I turned eight."

Jarrod turned from the platters he was unpacking and looked sharply at the unassuming young man. His blue eyes widen in surprise.

"Eight? Didn't you go to school?"

"Yeah, I'd go to the the mines after school and work late. My mama was sick a lot and we needed the money. Sometimes it wasn't enough. When I turned 10 a new owner bought the livery and took a liking to me. I worked there on weekends. All I wanted to do was work with the horses. Mr. Henderson was real good to me. By the time the enlisted, I was helping him run things."

Jarrod's hands continued to unpack the basket, while his brain did a quick calculation and determined that his young friend couldn't have been more than 14 or so during the war. War is not a place for children. But Jarrod remembered seeing many unblinking eyes littering the battlefields. Some just as young as Heath was. What a remarkable spirit this boy had.

Heath's eye's grew wide in surprise when Jarrod uncovered a large platter of fried chicken, sweet potatoes, fresh bread, apple pie and a jug of lemonade.

"Jarrod, I thought you meant sandwiches. I didn't expect this. You shouldn't have gone to this much trouble."

Jarrod smiled and handed Heath a large mug of lemonade.

"Heath, please relax. This is my treat and I intend to enjoy every morsel."

They talked about lots of things and the time passed quickly. Jarrod found Heath's easy going nature relaxed him. Heath's dinner break ended too soon and Jarrod started to pack up. He noticed Heath eyeing the leftover chicken and pie. He filled the plate and wrapped it in a large napkin.

"Why don't you keep it? You can finish it later."

"Oh it won't go to waste, I can guarantee that." Heath enthused.

As Jarrod started to leave, he felt a tug on his sleeve and saw the hand extended. The blue eyes that a minute ago were filled with mirth now were very somber.

"I want to thank you for being to good to me. Fine man like you must have a whole lot of better places to hang out than in the basement of a hospital with the handyman. Don't know why I got so lucky, but I sure am glad to know you Jarrod Barkley."

Jarrod returned the shake and felt a warmth rising in his chest. He nodded and added a sentiment of his own.

"Heath, I'd say I'm pretty lucky too. Good Night."

"One more thing Jarrod," Heath said as Jarrod cocked his head by the door "one day I'm gonna buy you dinner somewhere real nice."

"I'd like that Heath." Jarrod's smile stayed with him all the way home.

Three days later

"Hey Mama."

Leah looked up at the familiar site of the lopsided smile that preceded her son into the room. He stopped by every night around five p.m. to visit during her dinner. He looked so tired. She worried about the circles under his eyes.

"Are you sleeping? You look so tired."

"I'm fine. You got no call to worry on me. I've been a little restless is all. Doctor says you're getting stronger. Maybe we can leave in a week or so. He's making arrangements for a place for you to stay in Santa Barbara. I don't about how much work they'll be there. I'll have to..."

Leah interrupted his thought. He worked too hard and she didn't want him to worry.

"Heath, don't worry about that now. If you can find a job at a ranch up north, you'll still be able to visit me. Sit down and tell me about your job while I eat."

He told her about the people in the hospital and how nice most of the folks were. He noticed as soon as she got done eating, that she seemed to be tired. He took the tray across the room and told her about Jarrod. When he turned, she was asleep. He kissed her and left the room. He took out his duty list and saw the first stop were the beds to be fixed on the fourth floor.

He'd missed Jarrod for the last few nights when he wasn't in the basement. He had a list of chores that took him all over the hospital. He fixed the three beds and went to the next job on his list. As he approached the doctor's library on the ground floor, he paused to remember his last visit with Jarrod.

He would miss Jarrod when they left. He was a good man, a good friend. Heath didn't know why, but he felt very close to Jarrod. It was one of the few times he could remember feeling comfortable opening up to someone. It was after midnight when finished stocking the shelves and cleaning the floor. He looked at the list and frowned, he was running behind. He would have to start a little earlier tomorrow night. He decided to clean the floors in the offices down the hall and with any luck he'd be able to get a little sleep.

Stockton

"What are you doing here? Didn't think you lived here anymore."

Nick teased his brother as he handed him a brandy. Jarrod was fresh off the train and hungry for dinner.

"Believe me Nick, after the week I've put in, I felt like running away. Martin's unexpected illness during a major trial with another one forthcoming has kept me busy. I hope that's pork loin I smell, it just make take the cranky edge off this bear."

Nick laughed and patted Jarrod's back as they joined the rest of the family at dinner. Jarrod made a special effort to get home, even if he could only spare a night. His parent's were leaving to travel back east in a week or so for a few months. His father had business in New York and Philadelphia. On their way home they would stop in and visit the Barkley's ranch outside Denver. His grandfather lived there with his Uncle John and family.

It was a grand dinner. Most of the conversation centered on the trip east. Audra wanted dressed from New York. Nick wanted Audra to stop begging. Didn't she have a whole room full of dresses? How many do you need? His mother scolded Nick and then chastised her husband for cursing at the table. Jarrod felt the warmth and ease only a family could provide. Listening to the laughter and camaraderie, he suddenly thought of his new friend. He didn't realize his face betrayed him until his brother loudly addressed him.

"What's the matter with you? Why the long face?"

"I can't help but think of a young man I met this week at the hospital."

"Here we ago again, another lost cause for you to save. You attract them like bees to honey." Nick lamented, rolling his eyes.

"Nick, this boy was different. The only family he has is a dying mother. I met him while Martin was in surgery. His mother was being operated on as well. It's uncanny how familiar he seemed. Like I'd met him before. He was so alone, just the bible to keep him company. The more I talked to him the more I liked him. I was leaving late one night and I found him working in the basement of the hospital, where he'd gotten a job. When I left him that night he had a whole room full of crates to unpack, inventory and deliver. I stopped in the next night and he was finished and working on something else.I can't imagine being so alone. Not having a family or a home. It's so hard to comprehend."

Victoria looked around the table where her family sat healthy and happy. Like Jarrod, she couldn't imagine being so alone either. She didn't know the boy but knew Jarrod well enough to know he was an excellent judge of people. It was obvious this boy had touched her oldest child.

"How old is he Jarrod? Is he from this area?" She asked her son.

"Oh, I guess around twenty or so. He said the town they came from was north of here and all but dead. I'd say they're very poor. He's such a likable kid, and so hard working. I think his mother is dying and he suspects the same. It's just so sad. He told me he started working in the mines when he was only eight. By the time he was 10 he had two jobs. Imagine being 10 years old and the sole support of your family? "

The table seemed to grow quiet. Nick broke the silence by toasting his parent's good luck on their travels.

A week later, just after sunrise.

Jarrod shook the rain off his umbrella and walked to Martin's hospital room. He was tired; the last week of working overtime was catching up to him. He was glad he was going home. As much as he would like to rest, his schedule was demanding. Martin would be going home today, but not able to return to work for a week or so. He had a hard time fighting off the postoperative infection. It was a short visit. The doctor had to check him out before he could be released. Jarrod told Martin he'd stop by the house when he returned at the end of the week.

Leaving the hospital, he made the familiar trip to the basement looking for Heath. He'd tried a couple times during the past week to find him, without any luck. He walked around the large room and was about to leave when he saw a boot sticking out from behind a large crate. He approached with trepidation. The dim light from a small window overhead cast a pall on the figure lying on the floor. Jarrod anxiously approached the motionless form of his friend. Kneeling by the boy's side, he turned him over and called him frantically.

"Heath! Heath."

Jarrod sighed audibly in relief when a confused set of blue eyes opened and looked up at him. He was more than a little uneasy when he spoke.

"Are you all right? What happened? Are you hurt?"

Heath didn't answer and seemed dazed. Jarrod helped him up and led him to a chair across the room by a window. Heath sat down and didn't seem aware of where he was. When Jarrod looked at him closely, with the daylight pouring in, he was concerned. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, which looked very muddled. He was very pale and listless. Jarrod knelt in front of him, grabbed the stuperous face and looked right at the confused stare

"Heath can you hear me? Answer me!"

Heath gasped suddenly and looked around. He saw the sunlight coming in and jumped up. He grabbed Jarrod and didn't have time to cover up the upset in his voice

"What time is it? Please tell me the time!" "It's almost seven a.m. Heath, what is wrong with you? You look awful. Are you sick?"

"Seven a.m.! It can't be that late already. I'm gonna be late. I can't be late again; I already got docked once. They'll fire me for sure."

Heath attempted to leave but stumbled and fell to the floor. Jarrod grabbed him and had a bad feeling the boy's weakness was due to more that lack of sleep. Heath sat up and tried to stop shaking. He blinked several times and swayed. Jarrod thought he would pass out. He was relieved when the blue eyes looked back at him.

"Late for what? I thought you worked the second shift here"

"I do Jarrod, but I also work a day job at the docks. I get back just in time to visit my mama at dinner before my shift starts here."

Jarrod stared at his exhausted friend in disbelief. His incredulation was all too evident when he addressed the fatigued man.

"Heath, you can't work 20 hours a day. What were you thinking? Have you been doing this for the last two weeks?"

Heath nodded and rested against Jarrod's strong arm. Jarrod felt him trembling and realized with a sinking feeling that Heath probably was skipping meals.

"Heath, when did you last eat?"

"What day is it?" Heath asked fuzzily.

"Friday. When did you last have something to eat?" Jarrod pressed.

"Umm... maybe yesterday? I just don't know." Heath replied groggily.

"Why Heath? If you make yourself ill, you can't help your mother."

Heath didn't have the strength to open his eyes to look at Jarrod. He couldn't tell Jarrod about the notice from the billing dept. Maybe he should tell Jarrod, it was all so confusing. He felt safe in Jarrod's grasp. He thought to say something, but a yawn ended the thought.

Jarrod thought of how bad the timing was. He had a murder trial in Stockton that couldn't wait. He had to leave for home today, but he'd think of something. Right now Heath needed a hot meal and some sleep. He helped the young man stand up and didn't hide the command in his stern voice.

"No more working double shifts. Forget about the job on the dock. My house isn't far from here. You going to eat a hot breakfast and sleep today. Do I make myself clear?"

Jarrod saw the blond head shake. The weary eyes were determined as was the spent voice followed through.

"I can't do that Jarrod. I won't accept charity. I'll get by somehow."

Jarrod didn't disguise the anger in his tone as he retaliated. His blues eyes were livid.

"Now you listen to me Heath. You're going to have to learn to trust people that care about you. Whatever motivated you to take on two jobs? I have broad shoulders; you can lean on me a little. That's what friends do for each other. I think I know you well enough to say you would do the same for me if I was down. If you can't take a hand from a friend, how can you lend a hand to a friend?"

Heath looked away embarrassed. He squinted in the sunlight as they approached the curb outside. In a resigned voice, he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry, Jarrod, I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that I've never had to... I mean somehow, I always got by. Even when I was a kid working in the mines, and they're were nights I went to bed hungry, I knew the next day would be better. The last few weeks, it seemed the more I worked, the more I fell behind. The last few days I've been so beat I couldn't think straight. I didn't know where to turn."

Heath stopped as Jarrod hailed a cab. As the cab pulled away, Jarrod patted his young friend's shoulder.

"You have somebody to turn to now Heath. You have me."

It was almost two p.m. when Jarrod arrived at the hospital. He struggled up the stairs and found the room easily. She was sleeping and he walked across the room to the table by the window. Leah heard the door and opened her eyes. She was surprised to see the well-dressed man with a huge bouquet of flowers. Other than Heath and the staff, she didn't get company.

"Excuse me, I think you may be in the wrong room."

"Leah Thomson?"

She saw the handsome man turn and smile. The kindness in his voice matched the warmth in the vivid blue eyes. She knew before he said a word. She would have known him anywhere. She felt sure her heart would jump right out of her chest, it was pounding that hard.

"Yes?"

"I didn't mean to disturb you. I thought the flowers would brighten up the room. I don't know if your son has mentioned me. We met the day of your surgery and have become friends. My name is Jarrod Barkley."

His son.Tom's boy.Heath's brother. So many thoughts ran through her head. How could it be that the two would meet and become friends? She closed her eyes and smiled. Her prayers to God had been answered. He had delivered Heath to his brother. Heath could establish a good solid foundation on his own terms. It would make the transition easier. His voice, Tom's voice in a younger man's clothes, drew her back.

"If you're tired, I can leave. I just wanted to assure you Heath isn't alone anymore. I know how worried you must be."

Hearing the rich, warm voice took her back to another time. When another handsome man entered her life. The only man she ever loved. Jarrod has his smile and his kind heart.

"Please, Mr. Barkley, sit down. The flowers are lovely and it was very thoughtful of you. I've been so tired, I'm afraid I don't catch all of Heath's stories. He told me he had a friend, someone who went out of their way to be kind to him. I must have missed your name when he mentioned it."

He moved closer to the bed when he saw the small hand reach out. The illness had taken its toll on her weight and pallor. It didn't hide the beautiful face that smiled at him. He grasped the weak hand and smiled back as she spoke.

"Thank you for all you've done for him. I've been so very worried. I know he's working too hard. The last week he's gotten so pale."

" Please call me Jarrod. You're not to worry anymore. Right now Heath is sleeping in a soft bed in my home. He ate a great breakfast and fell sound asleep. I'll see to it that he takes better care. I don't intend to let anything happen to him."

She didn't stifle the tears that ran down her cheeks. The Lord does really work in mysterious ways. If she hadn't had the surgery, Heath wouldn't have met his brother. This fine man cared for her boy.

"Do you live here Jarrod?"

He pulled the chair next to the bed and sat facing her. "I'm an attorney and have offices in San Francisco and Stockton. My primary residence is in Stockton where my family has a ranch. My father and brother run the ranch. As a matter of fact, when Heath's ready, I want to invite him down to the ranch. We could use somebody like him."

Tom was alive! Heath would have a family and a home. But it had to be on his terms. She didn't want to force or upset him. He had a friend in Jarrod. Once he got to know the rest of the family, it would be easier. She would tell him then. God hadn't failed her yet, she felt confident in her decision. She looked into the caring gaze of Tom's son and made a plea.

"Jarrod, my surgery was only partially successful. Heath doesn't know how bad I am. He burys his hurts deep inside. He carries far too much weight on his shoulders now. I don't want him sacrificing himself for me. That is what he'll do if he knows my time is limited. I would like to ask a favor of you. Heath is very gifted with horses and no stranger to ranchwork. Working at your ranch would mean a new start for him. He's been restless and roaming for far too long."

She stopped and took several minutes to rest. Jarrod poured her a glass of water. He knew what she was trying to ask. She was dying. Knowing her only child would find his place in life; this would give her peace.

"He'll have a place at the ranch, somewhere where he can work hard and build a life for himself. My father recognizes and respects hard work and discipline above all else. Heath epitomizes that and a lot more. It's no favor, it's my pleasure."

"Jarrod, you don't know what this means to me. I know every mother thinks her child is special, but Heath is very special. I always felt God sent him, as my special angel. He's a good man, honest and true. You're a kind man Jarrod Barkley. You've brought joy to this dying woman's heart."

He stood and placed the chair back by the table. Turning back to the bed he saw a change in her. The moist brown eyes seem to light up as the tension disappeared. He squeezed her hand and once again reassured the dying woman.

" He is special, and a good man. I'd say the brave woman who raised him alone had a hand in turning out such a person. He's in safe hands, I'll take care of him."

"God Bless You Jarrod Barkley. I'll never forget you or how kind you've been."

Her smile was radiant and Jarrod could feel the calm serenity that glowed in her face. It wasn't often he got to give a gift like this. It felt good, damn good. He carried her smile all the way home.

Heath was still asleep when he arrived. Jarrod's housekeeper left a pot of beef stew and homemade sourdough bread for dinner. It was after three when he woke the slumbering man.

"Wake up sleepyhead. There's a hot bath and clean set of clothes waiting for you down the hall. When you're done, we'll eat."

Heath stretched and sat up, dangling his bare feet off the high bed. He looked around the spacious well- furnished guestroom in admiration. The cherrywood furnishings were polished to perfection. The jade green oriental rug and striped wing chairs, like the rest of the house, had Jarrod's signature all over it.

"Reckon I could get used to living like this. Fine house, good food. Never slept in a bed so soft. Maybe I missed my calling. I should be a high falutin' lawyer."

Jarrod laughed and ruffled the blond hair.

"Get going before I change my mind. Go on, scoot."

Heath sank in the large tub of steaming sudsy water. His roaming eyes took in the well-appointed bathroom. Jarrod's house was the finest he'd ever been in and reflected the lawyer's good taste. He felt guilty taking advantage of Jarrod's hospitality. He'd make it up to him one day. The cool water and fizzled suds poked him out of the tub. As he shaved he noticed how very haggard he looked. Even the gold-gilded mirror couldn't help. No wonder Jarrod got shook up. It was foolish thing; he had to think of his mother. He put on the new underwear, jeans, cotton shirt, socks and boots that were left on the hamper. Everything fit and it felt good not to be wearing worn out clothes and old boots.

Heath arrived at the bottom of the stairs and walked into the room to his right. It's colors and decor reflected the desert terrain. The rug was an Indian design in shades of terra cotta, cream, green and turquoise. A large portrait of a round up graced the wall over the fireplace. He walked closer eyeing the dust clouds that billowed around the weary group of cowboys. The chairs and sofa were calling to him. He'd like nothing more than to sink into the overstuffed leather chair with a good book. He imagined how good it would feel on a cold night with a fire crackling. In the corner in front of a wall full of books was a pine desk. He backed out of the room and walked across the foyer into a large parlor. It was a direct contrast to the warm, cozy room he just exited. This room was fancy. A chandelier and crystal lamps on marble tables accented the deep blue oriental rugs and dark furniture.

When Heath ambled into the dining area, Jarrod marveled at the change in the young man. He still looked worn, but the rest and meal had done wonders. He poured Heath a brandy and nodded to sideways to a doorway.

"I almost didn't recognize you. Help yourself, there's stew in the kitchen."

Heath walked through the bright pantry and ladled a generous helping into the large bowl. Jarrod watched the young man attack his plate and the sourdough bread turn into a pile of crumbs.

"You got a real nice house, Jarrod. Everybody should have someplace special to come home to."

"I guess I'm lucky Heath, I have two wonderful places to call home. If you believe home is where the heart is, than my real home is the ranch." Jarrod presented his plan to Heath over coffee and spicecake with coddled cream.

Jarrod would take the cab with him as far as the hospital. After dropping Heath off, he would continue for the train to Stockton. He hoped the boy would keep his promise about dropping the second job. He looked over and saw Heath's troubled face.

"What's wrong?"

"Jarrod, you don't know how hard this is for me. I'm used to making my own way. I know I was in bad way this morning. Matter of fact, if you hadn't come along, well, I don't want to think of what might have happened. I just want you to know; I'll never forget this. I'll pay you back one day. You got my word."

Jarrod didn't doubt it for a minute. The defiant, proud blue eyes didn't lie.

"I know you will Heath. As a matter of fact, next week when I come back, I want to talk to you about a job at the ranch. Right now, we need to catch a cab, or you'll be late and I'll miss my train."

Jarrod made Heath promise to stay at the house while he was away. The housekeeper had been appraised of his visit. Jarrod gave Heath his spare key. Heath nodded and bade his friend farewell.

Heath stopped in the office on the first floor on his way to his mother's room. He picked up his assignments there. There was a note for him to go to the billing dept. down the hall. He entered and noticed one man sitting behind a desk. The man looked over his spectacles at Heath when he entered.

"Yes, what is it?" He asked impatiently.

Heath didn't like the tone in his voice or the nasty stare he was given.

"I'm Heath Thomson and I got a note to come here."

The man behind the desk gave him a swarmy sneer. He didn't hide the contempt in his voice as he opened a file in front of him.

"Oh, so you're the one. I'm Jason Crane, head of the billing department. Firstly, you have no address recorded. More importantly, there is the matter of this overdue bill. It's been two weeks; it should have been paid in full. Usually payment is made in 10 days. This is a large bill and from what I gather you have no source of income. I don't know what underhanded methods you used to acquire the surgery, but it stops here."

Heath stared at the man and felt the anger rising within him. His fists clenched and it took all of him not to pound the weasel into tomorrow. He leaned into the man's face and spoke slowly through clenched teeth.

"First of all, don't you ever insult me or my mama like that again. Who are you to place judgement? There was nothing 'underhanded' about this operation. Dr. Whitman is a fine man and I made an agreement with him. I intend to pay this bill in full. I don't accept charity, I don't lie and I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"Mr. Thomson, I have no knowledge of what transpired between you and Dr. Whitman. I have no notice or letter of intent from him. He left two days ago for a medical conference in Chicago. I won't be able to contact him until the end of the week. It wasn't his place to make the offer. What is the address of the place where you are staying?"

Heath rattled off the address Jarrod had given the cabdriver. The cynical clerk once again roused his fury.

"What kind of a fool do you take me for? Nob Hill? You expect me to believe that a homeless nobody like you is living there?"

Heath leaned over the desk and clutched the edges to keep from striking the man. His steely eyes held no remorse.

"I don't care what you believe. I've told you everything you've asked. I am a guest of Jarrod Barkley. If you need confirmation, wire him in Stockton. It's none of your damn business if I live on Nob Hill or on the moon. I'll contact Dr. Whitman and get this mess taken care of. The bill will be paid."

"It better be paid. You've two weeks to pay the bill or I'll have you arrested."

Heath found himself in the hall with the bill stuffed in his hand. Three hundred dollars, might as well be three thousand. He folded the bill and put in it his pocket. He made his way on unsteady legs to his mother's room. He put on a cheerful face for her. He would deal with the rest later.

"Hi there handsome. You looked as shiny as a new penny."

"Hi Mama!" He bent and kissed her before sitting down. "How ya feelin'? Where the flowers come from?"

"From a wonderfully kind man named Jarrod Barkley."

Heath's eyes widened in surprise. Jarrod sure was somethin'.

"Jarrod was here?"

"Yes, earlier this afternoon. He's a fine man and so very generous. You're lucky to have such a good friend."

"I sure am."

The nurse entered and deposited the tray. Heath noticed there was a wire on the tray addressed to his mother. He opened it. It was from the Bradley's. Dr. Whitman made all the arrangements for his mother's stay. All Heath had to do was bring her down.

"Mama, it's from that couple in Santa Barbara. They're ready for you. Once you get released, I'll take you."

"Heath, Doctor Whitman signed my release papers two days ago. He was leaving for Chicago. He was so sorry, he couldn't cancel. I can leave tomorrow. He even left train tickets in an envelope inside the nightstand."

Heath opened the envelope and read the letter from the doctor. He would be down to check on his patient when he returned in a few weeks. He wished them a safe trip.

The next morning just before dawn, Heath stood by the window in the guestroom at Jarrod's. The departing moon's silver beams played on his chest. He sat down at the desk in the corner and finished his thoughts. He wrote Jarrod a letter and left it in Jarrod's bedroom. He would take his mother to Santa Barbara and get her settled. Then, he would make that $300, no matter what the cost.

Heath stared out the window of the train, as it's final customers boarded. The Southern Pacific would take them into Santa Barbara. It would be an eight hour journey; a long day for his mother. The departure this morning from the hospital had gone better than he expected. He spoke with the nurse in Dr. Whitman's office. She assured him that Dr. Whitman would keep his word and for Heath not to worry. She would wire the hotel in Chicago.

Crane wasn't in yet when he checked in with the billing office. The clerk he dealt with had a wire from Jarrod confirming Heath's residence. That was good enough for him. He signed the release papers and said he would inform Mr. Crane. Heath thanked him and left. After his mother finished breakfast, they took a cab to the train. Dr. Whitman was very generous. There was enough money left after he paid the cab driver and exchanged the train vouchers for tickets to have lunch on the train. Heath had a little money from his dock work. Crane saw to it that he never got paid for his job at the hospital.

Leah felt better than she had in months. The awful pressure in her chest was gone. Heath looked tired and she encouraged him to take a nap. She picked up a magazine that had been left on the seat. It was the May issue of Harpers Weekly. She read for awhile and every so often would look out the window at the California scenery as it passed by. They made several stops and around noontime the porter in a clean gray uniform came through the car. He announced that the dining car was available for anyone who wanted lunch. Leah looked over at her sleeping boy. Where had all the years gone? What would the future hold for him? She smiled as she prodded him awake.

"Heath, Heath. Wake up son, it's time for lunch."

Heath pushed his hat back and sighed deeply. He glanced out the window and was surprised that he'd been sleeping for four hours. He smiled back at his mother. She looked beautiful. The worries that had plagued her for months seem to have disappeared.

"Mama, you look beautiful today. How about letting this dusty cowboy treat you to lunch."

She laughed and took the arm extended. It was so good to see him smile. Jarrod Barkley had been in her thoughts and prayers since yesterday. She still couldn't believe her good fortune.

Like all cars on the Pullman Co. line, the dining car was neat, nicely fitted, trim and clean. The ventilation was perfect, you would never guess the kitchen was at the end of the car. The small tables would accommodate four persons, but it wasn't crowded today. Leah and Heath were able to sit alone. The snow-white linen clothes seemed to beg for a fitting fare. The menu had several choices. Hot dishes like steak, turkey, veal and chicken were one dollar. Cold dishes like boiled tongue, sardines, oysters or sandwiches were 40 cents. Eggs and Omelets were 30 cents. Fruits, Vegetables and Bread and muffins were 10cents. They ordered coffee and decided on the daily special. The special that day for 75 cents was tomato vegetable soup, roast chicken and vegetables and corn bread. The cooking was admirable, the service excellent and the food very abundant.

"Well, it won't be long now Mama. I know this is a long day for you. We should be in Santa Barbara in about three hours."

The train pulled just after four p.m. He collected the bags and was about to get a cab, when he heard his names called.

"Senor Thomson?"

Heath turned and was greeted by a pleasant middle-aged man. He grasped Heath's hand and shook it firmly.

"I am Luis Ortega. Senor Bradley sent me to take you back to the hacienda. I will take your bags, you help your mother."

"Gracias, Luis"

The ride to the inn was a pleasant one. Santa Barbara's architectural style was a striking blend of Mexican, Spanish and Mediterranean. Most of the buildings had low-pitched red tile roofs, plaster walls in white or warm earth tones, arched facades, spacious patios and wrought iron gates.

Luis pointed out some historical buildings and a brief history of the town. He slowed up as they passed a beautiful sprawling estate. It's twin bell towers and lovely facade enhanced the spectacular building.

"It's lovely!" Leah admired.

"Si, Senora, this is the Mission de Santa Barbara. There is no other place like it."

"I can believe that." Heath echoed his mother's admiration.

A few minutes later they turned down a road off the main street. Heath could hear the gulls crying and the smell of the ocean filled the air. He felt his mother grasp his hand and saw the contentment in her face. They pulled up into a charming courtyard. Luis guided the team past a large fountain and under an arch. The large adobe inn was cream colored accented by a coral tile roof and turquoise trim. Large baskets of flowers in every color greeted them. Heath jumped down and helped his mother to the bench outside the entrance. He turned as he heard Luis greet someone who stood in the doorway. A tall man with gray shooting through his dark hair walked over to them. The woman who stood next to him was slightly younger and fairer.

"Heath and Leah Thomson, I'm Dave Bradley. My wife Martha and I are pleased to have you stay with us."

After shaking hands with Heath the couple sat down next to Leah. Martha Bradley took Leah's small hand in her own and spoke from her heart.

"Dave and I want you to know we'll do everything to make you stay her a comfortable one. Your suite is lovely with a grand view of the beach. The sunsets are especially beautiful. Why don't you let me show you to your room? You must be tired from your journey, a nap before dinner will do you good."

Leah stood and thanked the couple for their hospitality. As Luis picked the bags up, he spoke a stream of Spanish and smiled at Leah. Leah looked to Heath who translated.

"Gracias Luis. He said that anytime you want to go to the mission or anywhere else, just to let him know. He'll be glad to take you."

Leah seemed quite overwhelmed with the overabundance of kindness. She looked from one face to the other as the tears ran down her face. Martha took her arm and led her down the flower filled path. Heath started to follow and Dave intercepted him.

"Heath, I just want you to know Dr. Whitman has taken care of everything. I've been friends with him for years. I owe him a huge debt; he saved Martha's life. When he mentioned your mother's case, I thought it the best opportunity to thank him. So you're not to worry about her. We'll take good care of her here. Dr. Whitman wired the local physician, Dr. Melendez who will look in on your mother. My Martha is a good woman and in no time will be fast friends with your mother. I know a young man like yourself needs to work. Do you have a job up north?"

Heath took a minute to absorb all the information given him. He looked past the side of the house over the golden sand dune to see a tip of blue sea. He was grateful for all the goodwill shown his mother, but uncomfortable at the same time. Being so beholdin' to folks was hard for him. But for her, he would do anything. Swallowing his pride, he turned back to the host. The salt breeze filled him as he finally responded.

"I can't thank you enough for being so kind. I know my mama is dying and I wasn't sure just how I was going to take care of her and work. Now after meeting you nice folks, I know I can leave her in good hands. I'll be going to Stockton at the end of the week. My friend Jarrod Barkley's family has a ranch and I'm hoping to work there. Things have been a little rough lately, Mr. Bradley, but as soon as I can, I'll pay you back."

"It's Dave and that's not necessary. Dr. Whitman holds several fundraisers every year to raise money for worthwhile causes. The suite your mother will be living in is reserved for people who are dying. They often find peace here and there is no way to repay that feeling. We're honored to have her with us, Heath. The Barkley's are fine people. Stockton isn't that far away, you'll be able to see your mother often. Come, I'll show you the way to the room."

The suite was everything Martha described and more. A patio out front overlooked the beautiful beach, where sea lions frolicked off shore. The surf pounded against the rocks nearby. Inside there was a large bedroom, living area and small well stocked pantry. Fresh flowers were displayed on the table inside. Martha exited the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She smiled at the quiet young man who shook her hand. George's letter had spoken highly of him.

"She's asleep, poor dear, exhausted. Dinner is a seven in the main dining room. If she's not up to it Heath, just stop down and we'll fix a tray for her. If you need anything, and I mean anything at all, you let Dave or I know. Luis's wife Maria will stop in every day to help Leah. Now, you must be tired too. Why don't you rest?"

"Thank you ma'am, you don't know how grateful I am. I've been worried about her and what would happen when...well, you know. Anyway, I'm sure glad she'll have you for a friend."

After they'd gone Heath went outside and rested against the stone wall, listening to the pounding surf. Its rhythmic tones soon interrupted his thoughts and he was asleep.

It was after six when Heath a small hand shook Heath awake. He looked up to see his mother, rested and dressed. He stood and stretched and wrapped his arm around her.

"I must have dozed off. That ocean sure sings a fine lullaby."

"Yes, it does. Heath, you go get washed up and I'll wait here. We can take a short walk before dinner. I need to talk to you."

Heath returned to find his mother lost in thought. She didn't hear his greeting and only turned when he grabbed her hand and inquired.

"I'm fine son. I'm enjoying this lovely view. I never realized how beautiful California was. I'm looking forward to my time here."

She saw him turn away when she used the word "time". He knew. Deep down inside he knew and it was time to talk about it. She took the large hand in hers. She remembered when the hands were small and held hers so confidently.

"Heath, I know you've been worried and upset about me. I think you know this trip will be my last. Dr. Whitman's surgery took the pain and discomfort away. But he feels within about six months..."

She didn't finish. Pained blue eyes met serene brown ones. She knew he was fighting back tears. She squeezed his hand and gave him a winning smile.

He held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head. She felt a shudder in his chest and looked up as his tears hit her cheeks, mingling with her own and taking a slow path down her face.

"Don't Heath. I want to enjoy these last few months. The warm sun, the ocean and our time together. I've made my peace with this; you have to do the same. I'll always love you; you keep that in your heart. You were the best thing that every happened to me boy, a gift from God. My own special angel, my golden child."

Heath looked from the beautiful face out to the rocky coastline. She was right. He would have to make peace with it. If God were giving them these extra months, then they would use them wisely. No more sadness, for her only light and laughter. He turned back to her with a brilliant grin.

"Well then, fair lady, I hope Santa Barbara is ready for us."

It was late when Jarrod's meeting with Martin ended. The murder trial in Stockton was progressing as he expected. The judge recessed at 3 p.m. and Jarrod rushed to make the 4 p.m. train to San Francisco. After a late dinner meeting with his partner coupled with the day in court, he was ready for bed. He would be up early and on the 6 am train back to Stockton.

After a hot bath, he retired to his large bedroom to review his notes. He saw an envelope on the center of the bedspread. He didn't recognize the handwriting. He took the letter over to the desk and sat down to read it.

"Heath?" he said aloud as he read the signature.

The note was brief but heartfelt. Jarrod smiled at the kind words his friend had left him. He went on to say he had taken his mother to Santa Barbara and would be back to see Jarrod by the end of the week. He was looking forward to seeing the ranch. Jarrod made a note to wire the Inn to let Heath know he'd be in Stockton and to come directly there. He placed the letter in his valise and began reviewing his cross- examination list.

Friday night

It was late. Heath was ready to leave in the morning for Stockton. Jarrod's wire said to come directly to his office in town. Heath was going to take the train Saturday morning until he saw a large advertisement in Friday's paper. The Stockton Rodeo and Fair was being held Saturday and Sunday. There were many events and cash prizes. Heath had some rodeo experience. He worked near Cheyenne Wyoming for a couple years and did quite well at the Cheyenne Rodeo. There was an overnight freight train that originated in Los Angeles. It would arrive in San Francisco near dawn; he could transfer to the Union Pacific and reach Stockton by 10 or so. The events started at noon. He had done fairly well in competition and was confident he could win some events. Maybe his luck was continuing, the cash would help pay the bill.

Heath walked down to the ocean's gate. His mother was asleep and the inn was dark and quiet. The brilliant starfield above was his only company. He sat and watched the waves roll in. The angry surf spit salt-laced spray on his face, which crashed into the salty tears that ran freely. He cried for the lost years ahead, for the grandchildren she would never see and for all he could never repay her for.

Saturday morning, Barkley ranch

"JARROD! Where are you?"

Jarrod winced as Nick's bellow reverberated throughout the house. He put down his notes and left his study. He entered the foyer just as Nick's voice filled the air again.

"Nick, must you shout? A simple `Good Morning Jarrod' would suffice."

"Where the devil have you been? We're waiting breakfast on you. It's almost eight o'clock."

Jarrod put one arm around his brother's shoulder and his free hand over his heart. His mocking tone answered.

"Why Nick, I didn't know you cared? Anyone else would see your concern as a cowardly ploy."

"Huh?"

"You know very well what I mean. You're just as afraid of Audra's cooking as I am. Mother's only been gone a week and I think I've lost a five pounds"

Nick smirked as the two peeked in the dining room. Nick used his astute observation skills to access the scene.

"Well, at least it's not full of smoke like yesterday. What the girl can to do meat is criminal."

Jarrod laughed and walked to the sideboard. Lifting the silver dome he glanced curiously at the remains of what was once was a fine animal. Nick looked over his shoulder as Audra placed a carafe of juice on the table.

"What the hell is that?" Nick shouted.

"Nick!" Audra admonished.

"Sorry" he grumbled "Well, what is it?"

"Anyone can plainly see what it is, right Jarrod" Audra asked.

Nick smiled and waved a hand at the unknown dish.

"Okay big brother, why don't you enlighten me. What exactly is that mess?"

Jarrod thought for a moment then diplomatically moved on to the next chafing dish.

"Audra, I think I'll pass. I was expecting ham this morning."

"Jarrod, you love sausage, I can't believe you're not taking some." Audra pouted.

"Sausage!" Nick retorted "What did you do to it? Audra I swear you give the word cooking a whole new meaning."

"Oh hush up, so it's a little overcooked." Audra huffed.

"A LITTLE, You could hurt somebody with this." Nick said as his fork send one of the charred objects hurling to the floor

Jarrod and Nick were left with eggs and bread. The bread was hot and Jarrod was grateful there was plenty. He winced as something sharp bit his gum.

"Audra, what did you put in the eggs?" Jarrod asked.

"Ow!" Nick cried before she could answer "What are these crunchy things?"

"There's nothing in the eggs, just a little salt."

Both brothers examined the eggs as if they contained explosives, gingerly pulling them apart.

"Aha!" Jarrod cried holding up a jagged edge of an eggshell, "I think I found the culprit. Audra, the shells are supposed to be thrown away."

"I'm finished cooking for you two. You don't appreciate me!" She said stalking off.

Jarrod and Nick watched the departing dress and then both burst into laughter. Silas had been away for a week. His return this afternoon would be well received.

"You coming today, aren't you?" Nick asked as he wolfed down some bread and jam.

"I can't make it to the Rodeo until later this afternoon. But I promise to be there in time to see you compete in some of the events."

"You better, big brother, cause I intend to clean up today. I'm taking no prisoners!" Nick boasted as he finished his coffee.

"That's what I like about you Nick, you're so humble"

Nick laughed and slapped his brother on the back.

"You just get a front row seat, boy and I'll take care of the rest."

It was almost ten a.m. when Heath found Jarrod'soffice in Stockton. He knocked and not getting an answer was about to walk away when the door opened. A young man with sandy hair called to him.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I am looking for Jarrod Barkley. Is he in today?"

"Not yet. I expect he'll be here sooner or later. I'm Peter Boyd, his clerk. Would you like to wait?"

Heath entered the impressive office and introduced himself. He took a seat and waited for the lawyer to arrive.

It was almost eleven and Jarrod hadn't arrived yet. Heath asked Peter how far it was to the area where the Rodeo was held. The clerk said is was a good 20 minute walk. Heath thanked him and asked for paper to leave Jarrod a note. When the note was completed, he handed it to the boy and left.

It was a perfect day for a rodeo. The sky was a clear blue and there was a hint of a breeze riding the spring air. The banner over the entrance announced The Fifteenth annual Stockton Rodeo and Fair. Heath paused a moment, scanning the area to get his bearings. He ambled through the crowd and went to the right.

A domed tent with long tables and benches was next to barbecue pit. A side of beef, several pigs and chickens were roasting on spits. Kegs of beer and other refreshments as well as cakes, pies and numerous other edible items were displayed at a variety of tables. He continued past the large linen clothed table where there were cakes, pies and other items were awaiting the judge's palates.

He paused and bent over a curious display of something preserved in jars. He wrinkled his nose.

"You're as bad as my brothers. Have you ever tasted pickled cucumbers?"

Heath saw a well-manicured hand place a jar on the table. He followed the yellow gingham sleeve up to a pretty blond face. He pushed back his hat and grinned.

"No Ma'am, I never had the pleasure. Kinda nasty lookin'"

"You come back after the contest and have some of mine. I bet you'll love them."

"I'm sure I'd love anything that you made. Smile like that would sweeten everything in sight."

She blushed as he tipped his hat and smiled broadly as he departed. She watched him walk towards the arena. He had such a pleasant voice, with a slight drawl. A voice followed by a tug on the sleeve interrupted her.

"Audra, who was that? He sure is good looking."

"I don't know Alison. I didn't get his name. I have a feeling I'll see him again."

Crossing a grassy area, he came a tent housing a large variety of cows and pigs. He paused to admire a Black Angus and saw a red-haired boy about ten taking care of the animal. The boy looked up as he approached.

"Fine looking animal, son"

"Yes sir, thank you. I raised him since he was born. I sure hope he wins a ribbon today."

"Well, I been to many a contest, I don't reckon when I've seen one finer. I think you got a winner."

The boy flashed him a smile that he kept as he continued towards the large oval area ahead. There was a large arena on one side with wooden planked seating. As he approached he saw the medium sized corral adjacent, with a beautiful brown bay charging around inside. He had seen his share of horses. Catching them, working them, buying and selling them. It was a long time since he seen one this fine.

"Boy Howdy, you sure are a beauty."

"That he is. Don't get too attached, he'll be mine before the weekends done."

Heath glanced over at a wrangler dressed from head to toe in brown. Even his hair was dark. He was a little taller than Heath. Heath returned his attention to the horse as he replied.

"Who does he belong to?"

"The Stock Contractor, an outfit named Braddock. Every year they donate a fine piece of horseflesh, like that bay, to the Rodeo. He's the prize for the grand champion."

"How's that?"

The stranger slapped Heath on the back and retorted

"He who has the most points at the end, wins, which will be me. Some loud-mouthed Texan just edged me out last year. It didn't set well with me. I don't finish second, ever."

Heath didn't doubt it for a minute. If nothing else, this fella sure had a fire inside. He looked at the muscles rippling under the brown shirt and the confident stance. Nope, wouldn't want to tangle with him, he's a tough one.

"Are you competing today?" He asked Heath.

"Yup."

"Really? Well now, I guess I'll say I'm sorry in advance. You came all this way for nothing."

"Guess I'll say I'm sorry too. You're drooling over that horse for nothin'."

Heath retorted as he tipped his hat as he walked toward the registration table. He paid his entrance fee and extra to rent a horse for the weekend's events.

Red Garrett saw Nick talking to a fair haired boy who was a little younger and slimmer than the tall Barkley. Red was Tom Barkley's best friend. They came west together over 30 years ago. He lived at the ranch for just as long. He was the unofficial father figure in the bunkhouse. He offered unsolicited advice, stitches, bandages, food and comfort. When you got to be his age, well past 60, all these younger fellas were 'boys'.He saw Nick grin from ear to ear as the blond man walked off. Nick was still laughing as his eyes followed Heath's form as he registered.

"What's so funny?" Red asked.

Nick clapped the older man on the back.

"Red, this is going be quite a weekend. Come on, I'll buy you a beer."

"Who was that kid you were talking to?"

Nick turned as the blond man smiled from across the way and winked at him. Nick laughed even louder.

"I don't know Red, but he sure will be fun to beat."

There would be five events over the two days. There were other contests as well: arm wrestling, darts, boxing, several games for the children and on Sunday night a poker competition. Heath sat on a wooden plant waiting for the first event, calf roping to begin. He squinted at some of the competition. There were weather beaten and bronzed, lean and lithe or large and imposing. He didn't see his cocky friend anywhere. He was number 16 at the end of the pack.

Calf Roping depends on luck and timing. The calf is given a head start, then the horse and rider give chase. The contestant ropes the calf and dismounts. Catching and flanking the calf, he then ties the two hind legs and one of the fronts of the animal's legs together using a rope carried in his teeth. After he completes his tie, he throws his hands in the air to signal the judge. He then remounts his horse and allows the rope to slacken. If the calf can free itself within 6 seconds, the run is declared invalid. The fastest time wins.

Heath watched as the first half dozen cowboys completed their turns. A good score is in the area of 10 seconds. The time to beat currently was 8.9. Heath saw a young woman with brown hair holding a five- year-old blond boy on her lap. His mind flashed back in time to the state fair she took him to when he was small. He couldn't remember much, he was only six. Bits and pieces of a train ride, larger than life cowboys and too much candy came to mind. But in later years, he realized what she sacrificed to grant a small boy his wish. That love is what he remembered most. A loud cheer brought him back to present. He looked up to see the dark cowboy, ready to go. He stood and watched carefully.

"Okay, I'm ready," Nick gave a nod and the calf was released.

He gave chase and slickly roped the fleeing animal. He deftly dismounted and tied the calf. He shouted loudly and triumphantly as he threw his hands in the air. He trotted back past the judge as his time of 8 seconds flat was announced. A large murmur arose followed by a cheer. He spotted the blond stranger and approached.

Heath grinned at the swaggering man who flopped on the bench next to him. Nick mockingly sympathized with him.

"Don't feel too bad, kid. I've beaten the best of them."

"Do tell" was the only response.

Heath rose and approached the pen as his number was called. .

"Hey kid, good luck!" Nick called after him

Heath nodded and readied himself.

"Let her go" he called as the calf was released.

He swiftly roped the animal and with lightning speed, dismounted and tied it up. Throwing his hands in the air in what seemed to be no time at all. Without any fanfare, he rode back past the judge as his time was announced.

Nick's eyebrows rose in amazement as the blond worked. He knew it would be close, the boy was fast.

"Damn!" Nick cursed as Heath's 7.5 seconds was announced.

The crowd murmured and then cheered. Nick needed a beer. The next event was Steer Wrestling better known as "bulldogging" and not scheduled for an hour. Heath waited for the remaining two contestants, but knew it was his. He loved competition. The knawing inside; fighting the challenge and striving to conquer. The judges announced to the applauding masses Heath Thomson, 7.5 seconds, winner and new Rodeo record holder. Heath reluctantly tipped his hat and accepted congratulations from some of the cowboys. The judge presented him with a ribbon and the prize money. Heath put the twenty-dollar piece in his pocket. Talk about timing, he was just about out of money, spending the last bit on the hotel room he rented. He wandered over to a tree and sat down in the shade.

"Congratulations, you were terrific."

Heath looked up to see the blond girl who he'd met earlier. She sure was pretty.

"Thanks, more luck than anything else."

"You're too modest, it's not all luck, you have to be fast and skilled. You must be pretty good to beat Nick."

"Nick?"

"My brother, he was leading with 8 seconds, until you smashed his time." She laughed.

"You don't seem too broken up by that," He drawled, throwing her a half grin.

"I'm not, he always wins. It does him good to be taken down a peg now and then!" She giggled. Before they could continue their conversation, three elderly woman were waving frantically at her.

"I have to go, it's time for the pie competition. My best friend has a lemon sponge pie entered." She scampered off and he made his way to the beer tent.

After draining the last of the amber liquid, he was making his way towards the arena when he spotted the arm wrestlers. He paused to watch and smiled at the bragging dark head whose triumphant call filled the air as the loser left shaking his head.

Nick spotted the blond and waved him over. Heath didn't move at first, just acknowledged Nick's wave. Nick challenged him, flexing his brown-gloved fingers in anticipation.

"What about it? Want to give it a go?"

Heath wandered closer and looked Nick up and down. Nick frowned and hollered.

"Well?"

"Nope. Wouldn't be fair."

"Whaddya mean, "wouldn't be fair"?" Nick cried indignantly.

"Wouldn't be fair for me to beat you twice inside an hour. Don't like to kick a man when he's down."

Nick's eyes lit up at the laughter and elbow ribbing that the Barkley ranch hands aimed his way. He glowered at Heath and his scoff carried across the table.

"Boy, them is fighting words. Come on, give it." Nick implored, waving his fingers.

"You were warned," Heath replied confidently, as he sat down.

Heath sized Nick up and realized Nick was stronger. He couldn't win if he fought back. His only chance was too hold firm and let Nick beat himself. Nick thought this would be easier than taking candy from a baby. He had a good 20 pounds on the boy. For several minutes both arms flexed and each man grunted. Nick's strength surpassed even Heath's measure of him. He was having a hard time holding fast. Two minutes went by. A crowd had formed. Nick's arm wobbled a bit and Heath's muscles screamed. Both sets of eyes were deadlocked. Another minute went by, the crowd murmured as Nick started to gain advantage. Heath felt his arm giving way but held firm. Four minutes, Nick was wearing down; he needed to pin the boy. Nick grit his teeth and gave it all he had. With a final grunt, he pushed Heath's arm to the table. A cry went up. Both men panted and smiled. Nick flexed his arm and walked around the table.

"You're tougher than you look." He complemented, patting the boy's back.

Nick spotted some of the ranch hands and waved to them. Turning to his friendly foe, he departed.

"See ya later, Kid."

The steer wrestling requires more than brute strength. The successful wrestler must not only be strong but also use the power of leverage to his advantage. He starts out on horseback after the steer has been given a head start. A hazer, who rides and keeps the steer in line, assists the wrestler. When the wrestler's horse pulls even with the steer, he eases down off the right side and grabs the steer's horns. Digging his heels into the dirt he grasps the horns. As the steer slows, the cowboy turns the animal and lifts him on the right horn, pushing down with his left hand. The contestant is clocked when the steer is own his side with all four feet pointed in the same direction.

Heath watched the bulldoggers ahead of him post impressive times. This was known as a "big man's" event, most of the winners were 225 pounds or better. He interested peaked when he saw Nick in the block ready to go. He found himself cheering with the crowd. Heath admired Nick's skill and strength. His lean, muscular frame made up for the difference in weight. He stood as the defeated animal was pinned. Heath shook his head as Nick's voice could be heard all the way back to the stands. His time of 3.6 seconds was announced, much to Nick's delight.

Heath was last and a little nervous. This wasn't his best event. He was the lightest of the contestants and if the animal turned wrong, he could be hurt.

Nick was accepting congratulations from the hands. They knew his time wouldn't be topped. Nick heard Jim Tate, a neighbor, behind him and turned, frowning at the man's words.

"What's that boy doing in there? He's kinda light for bulldoggin'. "

"He's a fool!" Nick thought outloud and for some unknown reason felt his stomach get a knot in it. His victorious smile disappeared as the young man slid from the horse and attempted to turn the beast. Nick didn't realize he was holding his breath until he saw the steers four feet and heard the crowd cheer. He forced his air out and shook his head at the blond who disappeared into the crowd. His time wasn't good, over 4 seconds but he had guts and Nick admired that.

Jarrod found a place in the stands in time for the final event of the afternoon. Audra spotted him and greeted him with a kiss. He spotted the blue ribbon proudly displayed on her shoulder.

"You won! Congratulations Honey."

"Thank you, big brother. Did you just get here?"

"Yeah, I had more work to finish than I anticipated. How'd Nick do?"

"Well, he won the bulldoggin' but he came in second in calf roping."

"No kidding?" Jarrod said surprised.

Bareback Riding produces wild action and many thrills. Although it lasts only eight seconds, it's a real crowd pleaser. The ride begins with the riders feet placed above the break of the horses shoulder. This placement is crucial or the rider could be disqualified. Throughout the eight-second ride, the cowboy must grasp the leather and rawhide handhold with only one hand. He will be disqualified if he touches himself, the horse or the equipment with his free hand. Optimum spurring action and steady leg placement are critical. The rider is judged on his control during the ride and spurring technique. The horse's performance also counts in the score. Both rider and horse could get 50 points each, for a perfect score of 100. A realistic score is in the 80's.

Jarrod and Audra watched as over a dozen riders performed. The crowded cheered and waved fists in the air, edging the riders on. The current leader was a local rancher's son named Chuck Logan. His score of 84 would be hard to beat. Both Barkleys stood as Nick's turn arose. They screamed and cheered as their dark brother battled the horse who was trying to rid himself of whoever or whatever was on his back. Nick left the oval waving to the cheering crow. His score of 86 brought a huge cheer.

Jarrod stared in surprise at the young rider whose turn was next.

"Heath!"

Audra's blue eyes trailed her brothers to the source of his exclamation. It was her mysterious acquaintance. Her eyes lit up.

"Jarrod, Do you know him?"

"I know him well, Audra," He said turning to face her, "He's the boy I told you about, the one whose mother is dying."

"I met him earlier, he seems so nice. Oh that's awful about his mother He's the one who beat Nick at calf roping."

They watched and waited as Heath took off. Nick watched too, wary of this new opponent. Heath gave it his all and mastered the beast. His smile as he exited caused Nick to frown. It was a good ride, good enough to win maybe. Nick greeted him as he exited the oval.

"Nice ride."

"Thanks," Heath nodded and with a slight grin added; "You're not so bad either, for an old timer."

"'Old timer' huh, you just wait until tomorrow, we'll see who feels old and worn at day's end"

Nick's grin at the blond's back soon soured when Heaths' score of 88 was announced. He had just reached Jarrod and Audra.

Jarrod whooped in spite of himself. Nick turned to his brother and loudly complained.

"Who are you rooting for anyway? Traitor."

Jarrod laughed and clapped his scowling brother on the back.

"Come on Nick, there somebody I want you to meet."

"Him? You know him?"

Before the lawyer could respond, Audra answered gleefully.

"He's the one Jarrod told us about the other week. You know from the hospital. His mother..."

"Yeah, I remember," Nick interrupted and turned to Jarrod, "That explains a lot."

"Explains what?" Jarrod asked as they approached the excited blond cowboy.

"Why he is one tough customer." Jarrod couldn't help notice the glint of admiration in Nick's eye, which mirrored his voice.

"Here you go young man. Congratulations, that was quite a ride."

Heath thanked the judge and turned clutching another ribbon and stuffed the $30 prize money in his pocket. Heath beamed at the familiar face approaching and took the hand of his friend.

"Jarrod! Did you see the ride?"

Jarrod was glad to see Heath so excited. The last few weeks at the hospital and probably long before that, had been dark ones. His young friend looked like a Santa-sated boy on Christmas morning. Jarrod clapped him on the back.

"I saw it all right. You were scintillating!"

"Come again?" Heath puzzled.

"What he meant was that was one helluva ride. You'll get used to him using them fancy words after you're here awhile," Nick said shaking the victor's hand.

"Heath, this is my brother Nick and my sister Audra. This is Heath Thomson."

"My pleasure Ma'am" Heath said taking Audra's small hand and tipping his hat.

"He's your brother?" Heath's eyes raised slightly at Jarrod as he nodded to Nick. "Hard to believe."

"Now you're gonna have to explain that last remark over supper," Nick commanded "Jarrod's buying."

"No, that's okay. I got..." Heath started but Nick finished.

"Keep your money in your pocket. Jarrod's just dying to spend some of his client's hard-earned cash. Isn't that right?" Nick turned to the lawyer.

"Not exactly as I would have said it, but Nick's correct Heath. I'm buying everyone supper."

Red Garrett eyed the tent for an available seat. Spotting the familiar sight of Nick's leatherback, he ambled over to the table. Jarrod and Audra were seated across from Nick and young man who had bested him.

"Boy you're going soft, eating with the enemy!" Red teased as he sat on the short end of the table between Jarrod and Nick.

"Yeah, well tomorrow's another day. I ain't surrenderin' just yet." Nick proclaimed as he attacked his steak.

Red stared at the young blond man quietly eating. The resemblance was uncanny. He watched the boy smile at Audra without looking up. He tore away his gaze and looked from Jarrod to Nick. No they wouldn't remember, it was before their time.

Nick saw Red staring at Heath and interrupted his feast long enough to introduce him.

"Oh sorry Red, this is Heath Thomson. He'll be working for us starting Monday. If you saw him today, I don't have to tell you how badly we need him. Heath, this is Red Garrett; he's in charge at the bunkhouse. He came to the valley with my folks a long time ago."

The boy finally raised his head and once Red Garrett saw the sky blue eyes and handsome featured face, he knew. He guessed how and judging the boy's age, he knew when.

"Nice to meet you son," Red recovered and tested, "You're mighty good for a youngster. Where you from?"

"Thanks, but I'm not that young, turned 21 a few weeks ago. Grew up in an old mining town, Strawberry. It's dead now. Been all over, done just about everything. I'm real glad to meet you, Mr. Garrett."

The word Strawberry bounced around Red's head and spun away. Twenty-two years gone by and those three missing months raised their ugly head again. The last piece of information put the nails in the coffin. Red ran a hand through gray hair and rubbed the red beard peppered with snow. Tom Barkley wasn't due back until September. He had no idea the storm he'd be riding into when he arrived home and met his youngest son.

"Red, you with us?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, just thinking about your folks. Shame they had to miss this. It's Red, Heath, glad to know you boy."

Nick looked over at Heath's half eaten plate. Audra had been beating his ear for the entire meal. He wasn't able to chew for his polite responses.

"Audra, give him a chance to eat. He needs to put some meat on his bones. He's a mite thin." Nick teased rubbing his hand across Heath's chest.

Jarrod had been sitting back watching the table. His keen observation skills hadn't missed the reaction and startled look on Red's face. Red continually glanced at the boy as Nick and Heath made their way to the dart tournament. Audra had departed to find her gabby friends. Jarrod leaned forward and addressed the aging man.

"Red, are you all right? Is there something about young Mr. Thomson you want to share?"

"I'm fine. He's a nice kid; he looked a little familiar to me. Guess he has one of those faces."

Red recovered and saw Jarrod nod. He didn't know if Jarrod believed him but he would have to be careful.

Heath eased his tired bones onto the bed at the Cattlemen's hotel. It was late, later than he'd planned on staying. The Barkley's wanted him to stay at the ranch, but deferred. He wanted a quiet night alone to think. He fingered the blue ribbons, his mama would sure be proud. He turned off the lamp and rolled over, his mind replayed the day's events. He knew his new boss would be gunning for him tomorrow. Nick Barkley was loud, brash, and brazen and had an intimidating swagger. But Heath knew just how hard the dark man worked. He met the hands during their beer fest earlier and it was clear that Nick had their undying devotion and respect. Normally, Heath shied away from getting too friendly with someone so cocky. But Nick was different somehow; Heath smiled every time he thought about him. He liked the dark cowboy and was looking forward to working for him.

"Whiskey Nick?" Jarrod asked as the two entered the parlor.

"No, I'm beat. I think I'll hit the sack in a minute." Nick said capturing a chair.

Jarrod saw Nick grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

"What?" He said catching Nick's eye.

"Funny how things work out. We lost some good men over the winter to the influenza epidemic; Some of the new hands are pretty fair, but your friend Heath Thomson seems to have all the right tools."

"I'm sorry I missed the roping. He was good?"

"Yeah, his ropin' is real solid. His quick and smart when he moves. If the rest of his skills are as good as what I saw today, we got ourselves a real find."

"Nick, I can guarantee he'll be good at anything he does. He's very determined."

Nick yawned and realized he would be asleep if he didn't get moving. He hauled his weary body off the sofa and headed for the stairs.

"Determined or not, he's going down tomorrow. I intend to win that horse. `Night Jarrod."

"Goodnight Nick"

Jarrod finished his drink and headed upstairs for bed. He passed Nick's door and thought of the upcoming events. He had a feeling his younger brother would have his work cut out for him.

Sunday, at the rodeo

It was another beautiful day as Heath scanned the crowd. He had gotten to the grounds early and watched for the Barkley's to arrive. He waved at Jarrod who approached the wooden bench were he sat awaiting the first event of the day.

"Howdy Jarrod"

"How are you Heath?" Jarrod sat down and watched the contestant's line up.

"Ready to ride" Heath grinned.

"You know, you have Nick a little rattled. He'll never admit it, but he's wary of you."

"He's got no cause for concern. He's good, Jarrod, real good. He knows how to handle himself."

Jarrod followed Heath's gaze to Nick who stood at the corral gate talking to some neighbors. Yes, these two would be a great team on the ranch. Heath could provide the challenge Nick needed to stay sharp. Heath could benefit from Nick's confidence. The announcer called the first contestant for Steer Roping.

Steer Roping was something most cowboys were familiar with. If one of the 750-pound ornery animals needed medical attention, the cowboy had to be more than rope skilled. He needed to be creative to get the animal safely down and tied. In this contest, after roping the steer's horns, the roper tosses the slack rope over the steer's right hip and rides to the left, bringing the steer to the ground. He then dismounts and attempts to tie the two back legs and a front leg. As in calf roping, the animal must remain tied for six seconds. The pace was stiff and the third roper, a wrangler, held the fastest time from Nevada named Jeff Cross with a time of 9 seconds. Jarrod and Audra watched Nick work the beast, but were disappointed when his time of 10 seconds was announced. Two ropers later it was Heath's turn. He did well but, like Nick, his time of 11 wasn't good enough.

Heath walked a little dejectedly away from the oval. He was counting on winning at least one more event. He needed the money. He didn't realize he was at the corral by the brown bay until the horse charged by. He thought of how good it would feel to have such a mount. He watched the spirited animal go through the paces. He felt connected somehow to the fine animal. The horse seemed to agree, tossing his head as he saw Heath.

Nick swore all the way to the beer tent. Jarrod caught up to him and chose his words carefully.

"It happens Nick. You were good, on any other day..."

Nick slammed the mug and glared.

"It ain't any other day. I wanted that win. Now I got take the bull ride."

"You're not alone Nick." Jarrod nodded to the solitary blond figure at the corral.

"Yeah, we'll see about that" Nick grumbled walking away.

By the time the Bull Riding was announced Nick was chomping at the bit. Jarrod and Audra watched intensely from the stands. Nick walked over and stood with Heath. The two men watched silently as the first half dozen contestants took their rides. The score to beat was an impressive 90 by Hank Hoover. Upper body control and strong legs are essential in Bull Riding. It takes all the rider has to hold on to the broncing animal for 8 seconds. The riders lean forward over the one ton animals, which are quick, as they are strong. Leaning back would cause them to be whipped forward when the animal bucks. Good body position and performance are scored along with the animal's efforts.

Heath looked up as his name was called. Nick didn't say a word, but squeezed the younger man's shoulder as he departed. He watched Heath gracefully ride the untamed beast and hold on well past the required eight seconds. The furious animal flicked Heath off his back like a fly. Heath sailed through the air and slammed into the gatepost with his left side. The crumbled cowboy caused the crowd to hush. The pick-up man ran to his side and hauled him out of the ring. By the time Nick reached him, he was on his feet. He was bent slightly forward, pressing his hand on the hip, when he heard Nick's concerned voice. He turned up to see the face that matched.

"I'm fine." He lied.

"You sure? He really tossed you good."

"I'm okay."

He watched as Nick gave a worried Jarrod the okay sign. Nick was next and approached the oval. Heath's score of 91 was now the time to beat.He braced himself as the beast was turned loose. He free arm stayed rigid and he stayed upright well past the appointed time before he landed in the dirt. He knew it was good and anxiously approached the judge. His holler of triumph at the announced 93 could have been heard all the way to town. He accepted well wishes from Jarrod and a kiss from Audra. His head swiveled looking for Heath who was seated where Nick left him. He saw Heath nod his way, and thought maybe he saw something else. He decided the pained look he caught briefly was disappointment.

After several minutes of conferring with the sponsors, the judge walked to the center of the ring and spoke.

"Nick Barkley and Heath Thomson are tied. We will have a one event tie breaker. This is a first for this Rodeo. All five events are listed in this hat."

He walked over the to audience and selected a young boy to draw a paper out of the hat.

"The tie breaker will be calf roping, in a half an hour."

"Ha-Ha!" Nick cried slapping his co-contestant on the back. "Boy I gotta tell you, you have made this Rodeo one to remember. That horse will be all the better for the wait."

Heath didn't reply which surprised Nick. He was also surprised to see the look of defeat on the young man's face. Jarrod and Audra were standing by the end of the rail. Jarrod saw the look to and Nick shrugged at him behind Heath's back.

Heath's heart sank when the judge picked the roping event. No way he could beat Nick like this. He wouldn't be able to move quick enough. He glanced longingly at the beautiful horse and then walked slowly to the area where the judge was waiting

Heath found a comfortable spot under the tree and rested his head against the bark. His hat covered his face and masked his disappointment and the pain that radiated from his left hip and side. It all came down to one event. Nick was riding with Lady Luck today. A gentle shake of the shoulder woke him up. He squinted into Audra's blue-eyed smile.

"Must have dozed off. What time is it?" He asked wincing.

"It's time for calf roping. Come on I'll walk with you."

She took his arm and they walked over to the grandstand. She kept looking at the strained way he was walking.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"I'm okay, just a little stiff. Must be the bed at the hotel."

When they reached the point where the contestants remained, she gave him a quick hug.

"That's for good luck Heath," She answered his smile and sought Jarrod.

He stood at the fenceline, not wanting to struggle from a sitting position when he was called.

Nick felt confident he could win. His eyes roamed to the majestic stallion across the corral. He sure would look fine riding that bay. He patience was wearing thin. He looked for his family in the stand and saw them wave. He followed Jarrod's line of view to where Heath stood. Something wasn't quite right. The confident competitor, who jousted him so well yesterday, was exceptionally sullen. The clenched jaw was hiding something.

Heath saw Nick approaching and tried to ignore the fire in his side. He grinned at the dark cowboy and challenged him.

"Good Luck, you sure will need it."

"Is that right? Funny thing, luck is my middle name."

Heath was first and caught the calf in good time. He dismounted and painfully threw himself at the calf and raised his arm after securing the tie. Nine seconds, Nick would beat that easily. He walked past and gave Nick a nod as he started his chase. Heath made his way painfully out of the arena and turned to see Nick's triumphant arm. His 7.9 was more than enough to win. He turned away momentarily, giving the bay one last furtive glance. Then swallowing his disappointment he made his way slowly to the champion.

"Best time I've had in years. What a day! I sure wish father were here." Nick boasted.

Jarrod, Audra, Red and several of the hands surrounded him, cheering and chanting his name. Heath stood back a ways and waited. He wasn't aware Jarrod was standing next to him until he felt the hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Heath. I know how badly you wanted to win. By the time the 4th of July celebration in town rolls around, you'll have a chance to get even."

Heath didn't reply. Jarrod watched as the young man's eyes stole a hurt glance at the stallion.

"There are a lot of wild stallions in the canyons in this area. From what I've seen you'll have no problem catching and breaking one."

Heath didn't reply right away. He saw Nick's dark head twice look his way.

"Not like that one Jarrod." He said quietly as he made his way over to congratulate the winner.

"Sure can't say you don't keep your word." Heath said shaking the brown-gloved hand.

"First time anyone every challenged me. You're the best I ever rode against."

The corners of Heath's mouth turned up slightly at the complement. The judge made Nick come over to the center of the ring. He than called for Heath.

"We never had a tie before so we have two prizes. Both these men proved they are each worthy champions."

The judge handed Heath a large bronze oval belt buckle with a bronc rider etched on the front. It weight surprised Heath. The $50 cash award and the applause of the crowd followed it. Heath thanked the judge and tipped his hat. He felt the color rising in his face and kept his eyes downward.

"Nick Barkley, that beautiful bay is all yours along with the Champion title."

Nick shook the judge's hand and gratefully acknowledged the cheering crowd. He joined Audra and Jarrod by the corral where the horse stood. Audra greeted him enthusiastically with a hug and kiss. They stood admiring the stallion. Jarrod hadn't missed the woeful look in the younger man's eyes each time he gazed at the stallion during the ceremony. Now he seemed to have disappeared. He turned back as Nick called him.

"Jarrod, isn't he a beauty. Best horse I've seen in quite some time. I can't wait to break him."

"He's a fine animal Nick."

"But what?" Nick asked tersely. He knew Jarrod and knew that tone of voice.

Jarrod didn't want to spoil Nick's moment. He worked hard to get the horse. Jarrod had a feeling Heath was hiding more than disappointment behind the pained look in his eyes. Right now, he would celebrate, but then he would seek out his troubled friend.

"Nothing Nick. Come on, let's go toast that horse in style." Jarrod threw his arm across Nick's shoulder as they strode away.

It seemed to Nick that half the ranch was on hand to toast their boss. Nick loved every minute of it. He paused long enough to see Jarrod once again searching the crowd. He walked over to his older brother.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm worried about Heath. He disappeared right after the ceremony."

"Yeah, I think maybe that toss shook him up some."

Josh Walton a young hand from the ranch was standing nearby and overheard the brothers. He approached them.

"I saw him heading towards town. He said he'd be back at three o'clock for the poker game."

Jarrod wasn't completely convinced but followed Nick back to the celebration.

Heath never remembered a hot bath feeling so absolutely wonderful. The heat relieved the pain in his side and he bent the knee without much trouble. He climbed out of the tub and got dressed. He fingered the belt buckle and decided to wear it. After today, it wouldn't be much use. He left the prize money in the safe at the hotel. It would be painful walk to the rodeo grounds and he wanted to be there in time for the poker contest. As he limped along, he felt better. As much as it hurt to lose the horse, he had too much more to be thankful for. A good job on the best ranch in the state with fine people.

Nick scanned the room of several tables set up for the poker contest. Dinner and a dance would follow the contest. He recognized some of the better players from last year. Each table held four men. By process of elimination, the rounds would progress until only four remained. He grinned as a familiar drawl filled his ear.

"Plannin' on winnin' are ya?"

"I am." Nick bragged.

"Guess I'll apologize now for having to steal your money."

"Save your breath, son."

Nick looked over and was relieved that the sullen mood had lifted. Heath was cleaned up and the bright blue eyes were ready for a challenge. The men took the seats as their names were called.

The first few rounds were uneventful as the less talented players were eliminated. Nick and Heath made it to the final foursome. Nick recognized both men. Jim Fleming and Arly Franklin. Fleming was from Sacramento. He was a skilled player and good sport. Franklin, on the other hand, although skilled was a poor sport with an explosive temper. The final round of five-card draw began. Each player was dealt five cards and the betting began. Each player can throw in up to three cards and take new ones. Fleming took 2, Nick took 2, Franklin and Heath took 3. Another round of betting began. Nick folded, Fleming called and the rest threw money in the pot. Fleming revealed 3 Kings; Fleming had a full house and was ready to take the pot when Heath quietly laid down 4 Queens. Nick saw the dangerous look in Franklin's eye and made mental note to keep a look out. Several rounds ensued until the final hand. Nick and Fleming were out and the final two contestants were Franklin and Heath. Jarrod joined Nick resting his hand on Nick shoulder. Both brothers saw the marked difference in the two men. Franklin's shirt was soaked and he was sweating bullets. Heath was as dry as the desert and utterly calm. A large bounty was at stake. The betting went back and forth until Franklin called. He smugly laid 4 ten's on the table. His deadbeat buddies whooped and carried on. He was about to pull the pile of money in when Heath's arm stopped him.

"Not so fast." Heath said calmly and laid down a straight flush.

The crowd went wild. Murmurs rippled through the night and Nick's smile was a mile wide. He'd seen his share of poker players in his time, but not as good as Heath. Nick stood and turned to hear what Jarrod was saying.

"He's really good, Nick."

"Yeah, and not a drop of sweat on him. Talk about cool under pressure." Nick said, knowing that said a lot about the young man's character.

Heath had gathered up about half of the money when Franklin snarled and through the table on him. Nick's cat like reflexes took command as he saw Franklin go for his gun.

Franklin heard the click in his ear as his hand reached for his pistol.

"I wouldn't," Nick gritted through his teeth

"Back off Barkley, this don't concern you. It's between me and that cheatin' kid."

"He didn't cheat Franklin, he's just that good. Way out of your class, not git"

"This ain't done, cowboy," Franklin threatened.

Heath leaned in and countered.

"It's done. I won fair. I don't cheat; I never had to. It's over, you best go before I get angry."

Franklin saw that he was outnumbered and reluctantly left with his four pals. They pretended to leave he felt Barkley's eyes on his back. They rode towards town and doubled back. He watched and waited until the poker area was deserted and the crowd shifted to a large tent for dinner and dancing. They watched as the band set up, while the patrons ate dinner. He spotted the blond helping to bring benches and chairs around the perimeter of the ground. He watched as Heath returned alone from the outhouse. He nodded his head and approached. They were far enough away from the crowd that no one would hear.

Heath felt the pistol in his back and the command that followed.

"Move, over that way." Franklin indicated the wooden planked seating at the arena. Heath tried to reason with him.

"You're wrong. I didn't cheat you. You can ride out now and no harm been done. You can..."

Heath's speech was ended by a blow to the ribs with a board. He dropped to his knees and gasped for breath. He saw a pair of legs approach and dove at them. He managed to clip the invader good but then felt a hard blow to the head. Stunned he rolled over and tried to focus. He felt several more kicks to the ribs and hip. The formed a circle around him.

"Get that belt off him," Franklin ordered.

Franklin wrapped the belt around his hand, with the buckle covering his knuckles. He leered at the dazed, bleeding man.

"Get him up on his feet!"

Heath's knees sagged and he tried to dodge the blow. The last thing he saw was his first place prize coming right at his face.

Nick returned Emily Patterson to her table as the final notes of the song died out. He saw Jarrod leaving a pretty brunette with a slight bow. The two met and each took a beer back to their table. Nick watched as Audra entertained a gangly Alan Dugan across the room. Jarrod followed Nick's furrowed face.

"Something wrong Nick?"

"Why is she wasting her time on that goofy kid? He ain't got half the sense he should."

"She's being nice. You know Audra would never hurt anyone's feelings. Alan is a little smitten, Audra won't let it go any further. I think she's waiting for Heath to ask her to dance."

"Speaking of which, where is he? He should have been back by now. He's been gone for almost half an hour."

"I think he's still a little down about losing today." Jarred thought aloud.

"He's got no reason to hang his head. There's no disgrace in losing with dignity, only in winning without honor." Nick ended his thought swilling down the last of the amber fluid in his mug.

Jarrod wasn't surprised at Nick's comment. Other's would have been, for they accepted him as face value. They didn't look hard enough to see the essence underneath. He didn't show it often, and only to those he knew well. He wasn't aware that the feelings on his face betrayed him until Nick stood and reached for Jarrod's empty mug.

"You want a refill? What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

Jarrod handed the mug to Nick as he replied.

"Sometimes I don't think I appreciate you enough, brother."

"Gimme the mug," Nick muttered uncomfortably.

Nick returned with two full mugs and saw the concern on Jarrod's face as he searched the room for Heath. Nick placed the full glasses on the table and seemed to read Jarrod's mind. Both men scanned the room and when their eyes locked, they had the same fear. Nick saw about six of the hands carrying on in the corner. He got an idea.

"Jarrod, why don't we have a quick look around the grounds."

"You think Franklin carried out his threat?"

"I hope not, but it wouldn't be the first time. He's bad news, that temper of his is deadly."

Nick got the six hands to break up in-groups of two and search the grounds. He and Jarrod paired off and headed out into the twilight.

"It ain't all here, Arly."

"Whaddya mean? It's got to be. He didn't go anywhere."

Heath's still form held no answers. His pockets had been emptied, but all the poker winnings weren't accounted for.He took a blow for each question that was answered with silence. Arly Franklin seethed. He kicked the prone cowboy and snarled as he drew his pistol.

"No Arly, there's somebody coming. Let's get going."

Arly saw two cowboys close by. The imposing darkness covered them as they fled into the night. Heath heard them leave and opened an eye. Every inch of his battered body throbbed. He rolled over onto his side and grabbed for the bench nearby. He spit out a mouthful of blood and felt the warm crimson flow make its way down his neck. He managed to sit up but the pain in his head and chest collided with the swirling world in front of him. The reeling effect caused his dinner to arrive unannounced all over him. He leaned back against the bench and tried to think. Nobody would find him back here. The attempt to stand was met by severe resistance. Waves of pain fought a battle between his head, hip and chest. The heated warfare called him to cry out.

"Did you hear that?" Josh Walton said to Andy Morgan.

Both hands stopped in their tracks and allowed their eyes to adjust to the darkness falling. The second time they heard the cry, they spotted someone on his knees. They raced to the stricken man's side. Josh eased Heath back against the bench and grimaced at the bloody face.

"Get Nick over here. Better tell the doctor and sheriff too."

Andy was only halfway across the field when he spotted the Barkleys. He waved frantically and pointed to the area where they found the missing cowboy. He shouted to them when they got close enough.

"He's over there with Josh. He's in a bad way. I'll get the doctor and sheriff."

"Andy, bring a wagon too!" Nick shouted as he flew across the field.

By the time Nick and Jarrod dropped to their knees beside Heath, Josh was trying to mop the blood and vomit off the stricken man.

"How is he?" Jarrod worried as he held the limp hand.

"Bad enough. It's too dark to see, but I think he's got a bad gash back here," Josh said indicating the back of the blonde's head were he held a kerchief, "His face is a mess too."

Nick was accessing possible bone breaks. He naked hands carefully prodded the unconscious man. His fingers traveled from the shoulder to the ankle and back up the other side.

"So far, nothing broken." He said relieved.

But when he got to ribcage, his gentle probe caused the bloodied man to cry out. He put his hand on Heath's shoulder and spoke to him, not knowing if he could understand.

"Okay, take it easy. You're gonna be fine. The doctor's on his way."

Jarrod made out the forms of men approaching with lanterns. He also saw further back, Andy bringing the wagon. He moved out of the way to allow the doctor at Heath's side. The glow of the lantern revealed the brutality of the assault. Heath's face was covered in blood. His shirt wore both blood and vomit. The kerchief Josh was applying pressure with was saturated in blood. The raspy breathing indicated broken or cracked ribs.

"Who did this to him, any idea?" The marshal asked.

"I can't prove it, but my guess is Arly Franklin and his crew. Franklin threatened him after Heath beat him at the poker contest." Nick seethed.

The doctor moved Heath's face to see the damage clearly. He felt around the lump and wound on the blonde's man head. Finally his hands found the front and back of the ribcage. Heath cried out and the doctor patted his shoulder before turning to the Barkleys.

"Get him back to the bunkhouse, I'll meet you there. He's banged up pretty good, but I think he'll be okay. Keep pressure on that head wound."

Andy pulled up with the wagon. They carefully placed Heath in the back, sitting up against Red. He held the bandage against the boy's head. Jarrod walked back to where Nick stood.

"I'll get Audra and meet you at the ranch. What's that?" Jarrod questioned, indicating something in Nick's hand.

Nick's voice was laced with more than anger as he handed the bloody object to his brother.

"His belt, they beat him with it."

The large H-shaped bunkhouse on the Barkley ranch was outfitted to house several dozen men. No expense was spared in providing the best provisions for the crew. Rows of bunkbeds with storage bins and benches at the foot ran parallel to the large dining area. Connecting the two rooms was a kitchen and pantry. At one end of the bunkhouse was an area set-aside for sick or injured men. With the large number of hands that were employed to do the rigorous work, more often than not, there was a patient in residence. Red Garrett ran a tight ship and the men were very fond of him. He had patched up his share of injured cowhands over the years and Doctor Merar had come to depend on his experience.

Some of the men were in bed, others playing cards quietly. Nick and Jarrod waited outside on the porch. The door to the infirmary was just behind them. Neither spoke for a long time; Jarrod finally broke the silence.

"I'll go in town in the morning and get his things from the Hotel."

Nick nodded and continued pacing. Jarrod stood and placed a hand on the leather vest.

"Nick, you heard what the doctor said, he'll be okay."

"Franklin won't be if I get to him before Fred does." Nick seethed.

Before Jarrod could respond, the door opened and Red emerged with a bowl of crimson water. Jarrod flinched as Red dumped the bowl and motioned for them to enter. Heath's soiled clothes lay on the empty bed next to him. He was in a semi-upright position with several pillows behind him. The bandaged ribcage confirmed Nick's assumption. Heath would be able to breathe better upright. One eye was swollen shut and the other stitched over the eyebrow. His lip was also puffed and stitched. A bandage covered the stitches in the back of his head.

Nick stood at the foot of the bed. Jarrod sat in the chair next to the bed and studied the battered face. The bruises were just starting to color. His alarmed blue eyes addressed the doctor.

"How is he?"

"Several cracked ribs, minor facial contusions and a nasty concussion. Red will see to it that he stays in this bed. He'll have bad headaches and blackouts for several days."

The doctor packed his bag as he spoke. He then turned to the brothers and motioned for them to join him on Heaths' left side. Nick and Jarrod flanked the doctor as he approached the sheet and pulled it partially aside to Heath's knee.

"My God!" Jarrod exclaimed.

"This didn't come from the beating. These bruises are much older. He must have been in a great deal of pain most of the day. There's nothing broken, but he'll be very sore." The doctor assessed.

Nick's steely stare took in the horrific bruising that started under Heath's taped ribcage and went across his hip down to mid thigh. Varying shades of blue and purple locked in his gaze. He finally tore his eyes away from the colorful array. He addressed Jarrod while his eyes locked on Heath's battered face.

"Why didn't he say anything when that bull threw him? What was he trying to prove?"

"I guess his need to win outweighed his pride." Jarrod replied.

"I don't know how he was able to climb on a horse. I saw the tiebreaker. How he managed that is beyond me." The doctor stated.

Jarrod and Nick followed the doctor outside. He assured them that Heath would be fine in a couple weeks.

"Red knows the drill. That boy is to stay in bed until the end of the week. He'll be in too much pain to move around. I'll stop back tomorrow."

Jarrod thanked the doctor and waited until the buggy was headed down the main road. He turned to go back in to speak with Red. He noticed Nick walking to the corral. Curious, he followed. He stood slightly behind Nick and waited in silence. The full moon cast a bright silver shadow on the object of Nick's attention. The brown bay whinnied as his front hooves kissed the air.

Nick stared at the spirited horse and his mind traveled back to the previous day when a pair of defiant blue eyes had met his over the horse. Try as he might, he couldn't get the picture of the bruised hip out of his head.

"Stubborn, thick-headed.... He should have said something." Nick's fist pounded the fence.

"Look who is calling the kettle black." Jarrod retaliated, knowing his brother's history of hardheaded actions.

Nick didn't answer but Jarrod saw him nodding his head.

"Come on, let's got check with Red before heading to the house." Jarrod said as he turned back.

Just as they stepped onto the porch, Nick turned to stare at the corral. The brown bay seemed to read his thoughts.

"You'll have to wait a little longer boy, to see who your rightful owner is."

"What does that mean?" Jarrod took in his brother's determined stance.

"Jarrod, he's not mine. Hell, I can't accept a stolen prize. When Heath is 100%, we have another tiebreaker. I won't accept anything less."

"Neither would Heath, Nick." Jarrod said holding the door.

Red was coming from the kitchen with a cup of ice shavings. Next to the bed were several towels and a large basin. He'd seen enough concussions to know what to expect. The boy would probably be sick again. Until that feeling left him, ice chips would suffice.

"Looks like you have everything under control Red." Jarrod complimented.

"Yeah, we'll be fine. You and Nick go on home. First time we had a new hand in here before his first day."

"You see to it that he stays put Red. You need anything, you send somebody to the house."

Nick ordered as he stood at Heath's shoulder. He had seen countless injured hands before, even lost some. There was something different about Heath Thomson. Nick didn't understand why his feelings were running deeper than normal.

Red poured a cup of coffee and returned to his seat next to the bed. He saw the look on Nick's face; Jarrod's as well. He knew the answer to their inner confusion. All too soon, they would know too.

Nick and Jarrod departed for home and Red studied his young charge. When he looked at Tom Barkley's youngest boy Heath, all he saw was John Barkley. This young man was his image. He sipped the strong coffee and his mind traveled back fifty years in time. To a waterfront property in Philadelphia and a day that changed his life.

1820, Philadelphia

The active waterfront was a great place for a ten-year-old boy who was ambitious. There were numerous businesses and warehouses that needed a dependable boy with good legs. Running these errands had kept young Robert Garrett living. He waited as the captain of the Lady Anne gave him a note and a coin.

"Here ya go Red, me boy, see that Mr. Johnson gets that right away.'

"Yes sir! Thanks."

Red pocketed the coin and ran up Front St. and turned onto Third St. where Johnson's Tobacco shop was located. His efforts were rewarded with another coin and a large cookie.

"Good work lad. You better get going now."

Red retraced his path down Front Street and sat on the edge of the pier enjoying the molasses cookie. Although he was named Robert, his bright red hair had given him the name he lived by. He considered his home this stretch of waterfront. He didn't remember his father, who died when he was an infant. His mother passed on a couple months ago. The cool warehouses provided a spot to sleep and his customers were always quick with a treat. His blue eyes looked at the bright autumn sky and he realized soon winter would be arriving. He didn't want to think about how he'd get by. The only clothes he owned were on his back. He would soon be outgrowing his shoes. Sighing, he finished the last of the cookie and ran up the block to City Tavern. Mr. Grimsby paid him a nickel each morning for helping to unload supplies and store them in the cellar. Part of his payment was a hot lunch every day. Often, it was his only meal. His afternoons were spent doing similar errands. Mrs. Turner rewarded her spotless sidewalk with a mug of soup and some milk. His belly full, the late hour called the tired boy to bed. He slipped through the window of the Barkley Warehouse and curled up to sleep.

November's bitter winds and chilling rain caused the dismal day to seem grayer. Thomas Barkley's once golden hair and beard were streaked with gray. His bright blue eyes and unlined face didn't betray his age of 55. Although he had been in America for thirty years, he still had a heavy Scottish accent. His days seemed longer since his Annie died. They'd met just after he arrived. Her dark-hair, dark- eyed loveliness got his attention. It was her smile that stole his heart. Her father owned the tavern on the corner. Their marriage was a happy one and they were blessed with a daughter, Maggie first, followed by two fine boys, Alexander and John. Maggie was the apple of her father's eye and like John, shared his golden-hair and bright blue eyes. Alex had his mother's dark hair and dark eyes. Thomas Barkley father, Ian, founded one of the most successful whiskey distilleries in Scotland. Located in Inverness, it was run by his brother Duncan. Duncan shipped large quantities of Scotch and Whiskey to his brother Tom, who sold it to retailers on the eastern seaboard.

His daughter Maggie was now married to a plantation owner in Maryland. Alex and his family lived nearby. Alex was a smart lad and loved the business. It thrived and grew under his leadership. Twenty-five year old John and his wife Grace and their two boys Tom and John Jr., lived on Fourth Street, just a few blocks from the warehouse. John was a good boy and although he didn't say it, Tom knew he wasn't content. He would often see his youngest child staring westward. So many stories reached the docks about the rugged, untamed west. Yes, Tom feared his son would be leaving him one day.

The biting wind blew the door open and Red Garrett in with it. The impish grin always made Tom's day. Walking around the desk by the door he pulled the door shut and scolded the boy.

"Yer a foolish laddie to be oot in dis wedder" Tom noted the howling winds.

"It's not so bad," Red smiled and eyed the hot chocolate that always was waiting for him.

The Barkley's were Red's favorite customers. He loved when Mr. Barkley told him stories about the wild Scottish Highlands. His sons were nice too. The cold wind blew into the room as John Barkley entered. He smiled as ruffled Red's hair on this way through the room. His blond hair was damp, but his bright blue eyes lit up the room. He noted the shivering boy and thought of his own two sons, warm and safe. He didn't want the boy out in this weather.

"When you warm up a little more, we've got a lot of work in the back to do, okay?"

"Yes sir!" Red was thrilled; it was too cold to be out running errands.

Red's morning went well, but by afternoon he began to feel warm and his throat hurt. He continued working but soon his eyes were too heavy to stay open. He'd just rest a minute.

John found the feverish boy a little later, curled up on a crate. He carried the boy the office and smiled as the boy struggled to free himself.

"I'm almost done Mr. Barkley, it's okay."

"You're sick Red, I'll take you home."

Red was caught. He took off the blanket he was wrapped in and tried to escape. John's strong hand found his shoulder. Red tried to avoid the blue stare.

"Where are you going? I'll take you to your mother."

Red stared at his feet and shook his head.

"She's...She's...She's dead, sir." He said quietly.

John stared at the boy in disbelief. He wrapped the blanket back on the thin shivering shoulders and sat him down. He brushed his hand up and down the boy's back as he spoke.

"How long? Where have you been living?"

"She died a few months ago. I sleep back there," He nodded his head in the direction of the warehouse.

"Red, why didn't you say anything? You can't live on your own."

"I'm fine and I don't need help," He started to argue but his eyes didn't co-operate. John Barkley caught him as he fell.

When Red woke up, he was in a large soft bed. He looked around the bedroom and to the pretty lady with dark hair and eyes the color of smoke. She smiled at him and helped him sit up.

"I'm Grace Barkley. You just rest Red. I'll bring you some soup and then we'll talk."

Behind her stood two boys; the older boy Tom, about 6 had his mother's coloring. The younger one John was about 3 with blond hair and bright blue eyes. He didn't know it on that rainy day, but he had found a home and family.

Several years later, John Barkley left the family business with his father's blessing and traveled west. Upon seeing the beauty of the Rocky Mountains, he found his home. His penchant for success at cards had earned him the name "Blackjack" which stuck. Blackjack Barkley learned fast about the ranching business and horses. His love for horses led to a successful business. He hired the best wranglers in the west and paid top dollar. His son John Jr. would run the ranch. Blackjack knew from the time Tom was a teenager, like himself, had the urge to go west. In 1840 after a summer visit with Alex and his family, Tom fell in love with a pretty, strong willed young girl named Victoria. They were soon wed. After a stop at the ranch, he made plans to go west. Red had been Tom's best friend since the day they met. The trio's travel's ended when they reached the golden state of California. The San Joachin Valley became their home. The years passed by quickly; time and hard work built the small property into over 10,000 acres and the largest ranch in the state. He celebrated the births of the Barkley children, and mourned the death of the baby 22 years ago. A tragedy, the pain of which nearly broke the family apart. Months of buried grief led to that fateful trip to Strawberry.

A moan from the bed brought Red back to 1870. He saw the boy struggling to sit up with his mouth covered.

"Take it easy son. I'm right beside you. Come on now, let it come up."

The pained haze that surrounded Heath was cut by a strong set of arms and a kind voice. He eased at the soothing tone. He tried unsuccessfully not to get sick. He felt the strong hands wipe his face; heard the kind voice calm him. He took the water and rinsed his mouth. He accepted the ice chips. He lay back on the pillow and relaxed. He felt safe.

Red smiled down at the blue eye that opened a slit to gaze up at him. The hand reached up and Red took hold of it. He leaned in to hear what the boy was saying.

"S-S-Sorry. Didn't mean to make a mess."

"Mess, this ain't a mess son. Old Red saw a lot worse in his day. Gone on now, git back to sleep."

As the first light of day announced it's arrival, Josh poked his head in the room.

"How's he doing?"

"A little dented up, he'll be right as rain in a couple weeks. Josh, do old Red a favor and sit with him until I get the chow set out."

Red left the slumbering young man to make breakfast for the hands. He glanced back and was struck by just how much this boy was Blackjack's grandson.