Monday morning brought work back to usual for the busy ranch. Nick stopped in to check on the patient, who was asleep. Jarrod was out early, hoping to convince the jury of his client's innocence. He was taking the 4 p.m. train to San Francisco for a late dinner meeting with Martin. He'd stay overnight and return in the morning.

Heath thought for a moment he'd been run over by a train. There wasn't a place on him that didn't ache. One eye wouldn't open at all and the other was struggling. He finally succeeded in opening his eye and saw what appeared to be a blurry expanse of blond hair hovering over him.

"Good Morning. Welcome back."

Her voice was soft and soothing. His efforts were finally rewarded when his vision cleared.

"Am I dead?" He gasped.

"No, Heath. Why would you think that?"

"Heaven's the only place I'd see an angel."

"Even when you semi-conscious, you're a gentlemen. You could teach Nick a thing or two."

Audra returned to her seat next to the bed. She watched as his confused face followed the walls around the room and looked past her to the sunlight coming in the window.

"Where am I?" He managed.

"You're in the infirmary in the bunkhouse. Josh and Andy, two of the hands found you last night. Someone beat you. We brought you back here to the ranch. The doctor said you'll be fine in a couple weeks."

Heath's hands covered his face and he tried to massage his temples to subdue the pounding pain. It even hurt to breathe. He tried to shift in the bed and a white-hot pain riveted through his left hip, causing him to cry out. Audra was about to scold him, when Red appeared. Red's eased the boy into a more comfortable position.

"Well, bought time you woke up. Half the day is gone. I got some beef broth simmering if you can hold it down."

Heath nodded and accepted the glass of water Audra offered. He laid his aching head back on the pillows and kept his eyes closed while he spoke.

"...are you doin here?" He slurred.

"Broken-up cowhands are my specialty. I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"...was right first time...you're angel...thanks"

His head slouched to one side and Audra realized he was asleep again. She brushed her hand along the side of his cheek and smiled. With a last look at the blond man, she stopped to update Red and walked back to the house.

Jarrod had arranged at breakfast to meet Nick at his office for the noon lunch recess. He walked through the front door and found a note from his brother on his desk. Nick rode out with the sheriff and some men from town. They were meeting with a marshal and posse from Modesto, tracking Franklin for killing two men earlier that week. Sheriff Collins from Modesto had received a tip that the gang was hold up at an abandoned farm. The meeting point was less than two hours' ride. Jarrod glanced at his watch. Whatever happened, it was over now. Fred, Nick and the others should be back this afternoon. He returned to court for the afternoon's proceedings hoping his hot tempered brother would return safely.

The last volley of gunfire resulted in casualties on both sides. Two of Arly's men surrendered. Fred and Dan Collins, the sheriff from Modesto, entered the barn where the gang had hidden. Franklin and the rest of his men were dead. Two of Collins men were dead as well.

Nick kept a wary hand on his holster as he approached the surviving outlaws. He hauled one up by the collar and threw him against the barn door. Fred has known Nick Barkley most of his life and knew Nick's short fuse.

"Nick, cut it out. I know you want this guy. Let us handle it." Fred ordered.

Nick brushed him aside and got a stranglehold on the man.

"I wanna hear it from you. What happened last night after the card game." Nick's menaced through gritted teeth to the cowering captive.

"Arly was real mad at that fella. We wanted to ride on, we knew the news about the shooting in Modesto would be on the wire. But he insisted. So we waited till that yellow haired fella was by himself and we jumped him. We only found half the money. Arly got even hotter when the fella wouldn't tell where the rest of the money was. He used the kid's belt and hit him cause he wouldn't talk."

Nick delivered a powerful right to the man's jaw and another to his midsection. He slid down to the ground. The tall Barkley grabbed him by the collar and was about to hit him again when Fred intercepted the fist.

"ENOUGH NICK. You got what you wanted. He's under arrest for murder. You head back to Stockton."

Jarrod looked at his watch as he returned from the telegraph office. It was almost 4 p.m. He wired his partner he would be arriving later. He returned to his office and waited. He looked up as the door opened and let out a long sigh of relief. Nick met his gaze and nodded gratefully.

"I'm all right Jarrod."

"How'd it go? What happened?" Jarrod asked Nick while he handed him a drink.

"Arly and two of his men are dead. The other two are headed back to Modesto to stand trial for murder."

"Did they confess to Heath's assault?"

Nick didn't reply right away. He drained the drink and nodded at the bag on the table.

"That Heath's stuff. Kind of a light traveler."

"One change of clothes, toiletries and his blue ribbons. The clerk said Heath left some money his prize money in the hotel safe. They'll hold it until Heath can come in for it or authorize one of us to. Well, did they talk?"

Nick hunched forward on and leaned over peering into the empty glass. Jarrod couldn't see his eyes, but knew from the terse tone of voice, what they held.

"Seems they had quite a time with him. They only found half of the poker winnings on him. So they beat him `cause he kept quiet."

"How was he when you left?"

"Still out cold. Red said he was pretty quiet all night. By the way, where is his horse?"

"I don't think he has one. He came on the train from Santa Barbara. I heard him say he walked from the hotel to the rodeo."

"He don't have one? How can that be?"

"I don't know the particulars Nick, but I'd bet he had to sell whatever horse he had before he brought his mother to San Francisco to the hospital. He probably hasn't been able to work much since his mother took sick last winter."

Jarrod noted the look of empathy that crossed his brother's face. Nick slowly got to his feet and took the small bag. He glanced back briefly at Jarrod as they left.

"Well, he won't have to worry about that anymore."

When Heath woke up the second time, his head wasn't as muddled. He was propped up with pillows, so it shouldn't have been too hard to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He swallowed back the pain from his hip and made a desperate grab for the something to hold onto as the room spun around. He heard the cursing before he actually could focus on which of the three Red's in front of him was the real one.

"You aimin' to put more stitches in that face of yours? There ain't a whole lot of free space left. You got a bad concussion and you're stayin in that bed."

Heath found himself not only back in bed, but in one quick motion; Red had eased the bedpan under him. Heath's face was a mixture of embarrassment and defeat. Red waited until Heath was finished and then fixed the sheet, while admonishing the blushing patient.

"Don't look at me like that boy. It ain't like you got something I never seen before. And don't tell me you didn't need to go!" He grumbled all the way out the door.

Heath was grimacing slightly when Red finally returned. He was carrying a bucket. He stopped at the table across the room and put something in long piece of cloth, opened at one end

"I know that head of yours is still painin' ya, and I bet the jaw is sore too."

Heath nodded and watched as the silver-haired man approached him. He gently moved Heath's head and placed the cloth around his face, securing it under the chin. The ice inside provides immediate relief to the dual throbbing.

"Ahhhhh!" escaped Heath's swollen face as he reached a hand up to Red, who was seated next to him.

"Thanks okay boy, I know you feelin' poorly. Old Red's gonna be right here."

"Where from?" Heath managed through the clenched jaw.

"Been here with Tom and Victoria for over 30 years. Originally, from Philadelphia. "

Red saw Heath's eyebrows raise.

"Yeah I know that's a long way from here. I never knew my father, my ma died when I was ten. I lived on the streets, making ends meet by running errands. One of my best customers was Tom's grandfather. The Barkley's imported Scotch from the family distillery in Scotland. Well, I took sick one day and John, he's your ...uh he's Tom's father, took me in. I lived with them from then on. John had the urge to go west, and we settled just outside Denver. Course then Tom met Victoria while visiting the Barkley's in Philadelphia one summer. After they married, they were gonna stay in Colorado awhile. But Tom was like his pa and soon he got the bug to go west. So we came into the Valley and Tom got that look in his eye. I knew he'd make his dream come true, he's a Barkley."

Red talked about the ranch and some of the adventures he and Tom had when they were younger. He saw the ice was melting and untied the pack. He mixed some aspirin powder in water and helped Heath drink it.

"That will help your headache some. Now you promise me you'll stay put. I'm gonna get you some soup."

"... got my word" He managed.

Nick worked with Charger, the name he'd given the prize bay so fond of charging around the corral. He was a fine horse and Nick was easing him into being broken. He jumped over the fence and walked over to the bunkhouse. It was just past 7 and save Heath and Red, the sick area was quiet. Some of the hands had stopped in earlier to visit Heath. He approached the bed to see Heath sitting up and sipping dark broth.

"Good to see you awake. How you feeling?"

"I'm okay."

"The doctor said you're gonna be fine. He patched you up last night. Said you got some cracked ribs and a nice concussion. You're off your feet this week and we'll see about next week."

Heath made a face and started to argue.

"Be okay in a couple days. Don't need a week. Got work to do." He muttered wincing.

"Well, that's funny `cause I'm in charge and I don't recall giving you any work." Nick admonished as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

Heath was too tired and sore to argue. The light from the lamp hurt his eyes. He wanted to close them and go to sleep, but Nick wanted to talk.

"Heath, do you remember what happened?"

"No. Remember, uh...uh...poker game." Heath winced.

"You got jumped last night, by Arly Franklin and his gang. We found you over by the arena. The sheriff caught up with Franklin and his gang today. They got what they deserved.Listen, don't you worry about anything while you're laid up. I need you to be 100%, you come back in any less condition, and you'll not only hurt yourself worse, but you'll have to answer to me. Understood?"

Heath nodded. Right now all he wanted to do was sleep. He finished the rest of the soup.

Nick saw the strain on his young friend's face and rose to leave. The boy needed to rest. He frowned at the mug of soup. He winked at Heath behind Red's back and complained.

"Red, is that all you gave him to eat? He'll never be strong enough to leave that bed."

Red six-foot lean frame put him eye-to-eye with the dark cowboy. He soon set him straight

"His jaw's too sore for chewin and his stomach ain't up to foot yet. Ain't you got cows to chase?"

"I'm going, I'm going. Geez Red, where's you sense of humor?" Nick argued as he was forced out the door.

It was just past four o'clock the following afternoon when Jarrod rode into the barn. He handed the reins to Ciego and walked over to the corral where Nick was working with Charger. If anybody knew horses, it was his brother. Nick methodical way of handling Charger was working. He patted the dark main and hopped the fence to greet the lawyer.

"How'd you make out in court?"

"I won; the jury was only out two hours. How's Heath?"

"Hardheaded. Red caught him twice getting out of bed. Where he thought he was going without any clothes is anybody's guess. Maybe he'll listen to you."

Nick brushed his pants off and wiped the sweat from his brow. He walked over to the water pump and hung his hat on the handle. He doused his head and filled a cup.

"Does Heath remember anything?" Jarrod queried.

Jarrod watched as Nick's dripping, damp face darkened as he paused briefly. He took a long drink and grabbed his hat.

"Nothing yet. The doctor said that's not unusual."

Nick grabbed Jarrod's arm before he started to walk away. He handed the lawyer a wire.

"Jarrod, this wire came today. It's from some guy named Crane about a hospital bill."

Jarrod read it and handed Nick a notice that was waiting for him with his mail for the week in San Francisco.

"When they didn't get an answer, I guess they contacted my office and had notice sent here."

Nick scanned the notice from the hospital. He handed it back and addressed the lawyer

"Jarrod, what's this Crane fellow mean "or else?" Can they do that? Can they threaten him?"

Jarrod read the hospital bill and shook his head.His vivid blue eyes were understanding.

"This clears up some unanswered questions. Working twenty hours a day for two weeks; why he seemed so lost. This bill must have been eating away at him. To answer your question, I think Crane knew Heath was alone and poor. He took advantage of Heath's diligence. I going tell Heath I took care of this."

"We are going take care of it. Why the secrecy?"

"It's important that he thinks it was done the right way. Just follow my lead, okay?"

Nick nodded and they entered to find Heath partially dressed and standing. Jarrod immediately scolded him.

"Heath, get back in that bed. You're in no condition to be up yet."

Heath turned painfully clutching his hip and faced the two Barkleys. From his beleaguered perspective, they seemed to fill the room. He grasped the bed rail with his other hand.

"We can do this two ways," he paused to catch his breath. "I can go around you or through you." He gasped.

Jarrod stood silently incredulous; Nick laughed outright at the sight of the one eye defying him so boldly from a man barely able to stand. The dark cowboy crossed his arms across his chest and firmly retorted.

"I got no problem with you leaving, as long as you can put your boots on."

Heath's dismay shown all too readily in his colorful face. He forgot about the boots, he'd never be able to bend over, let alone withstand the pain of pulling them on. He wasn't about to give in yet.

"I'll come back for them." He grimaced as he took two halting steps before Nick and Jarrod commandeered him back to bed. Nick reprimanded him.

"Enough already. This is the third time today you tried this stunt. Why won't you stay put?"

"I got ...I got something to do." Heath sulked.

"Where's Red anyhow? And how did you get dressed?" Nick asked.

"In the storeroom. He'll be back in a few minutes. He helped me get dressed."

Jarrod sat down next to Heath on the bed. He rested his hand on the younger man's knee. He knew where Heath was headed and hoped his message would keep the him in bed.

"Heath, don't worry about the hospital bill. It's been taken care of. If you leave this bed before you're ready, you could hurt yourself worse."

The head shot up painfully and the voice was angry.

"It's my bill, you got no right interfering. I can take care of it. I got enough money. I can get...I'm gonna..."

He fell sideways against Jarrod as a wave of dizziness overcame him. Jarrod stood and eased him back into bed and pulled the sheet up. He opened his eye and to Jarrod's surprise Nick moved in front of him and bent down. He placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder and spoke quietly.

"Hey now, you didn't give Jarrod a chance to finish. He paid the bill with the money you won at the card game. You don't owe them a thing. You still got money in the safe at the hotel. You give Jarrod your okay and he'll get it for you. You stay in this bed, rest up and listen to Red. You'll get strong enough to go to Santa Barbara and stay with you mother next week. You'll come back tanned and ready for action. Okay? We got a deal?"

Nick extended his hand and waited. Heath thought for a moment and glanced between the two brothers. Finally the hand grasped the brown glove. He cast a worried glance at Jarrod.

"Jarrod, they didn't make a fuss did they? That Crane fella is kinda nasty."

Jarrod stood behind Nick and smiled down at his young friend.

"No Heath, they didn't give me a hard time. Nick's right, visiting your mother, the sun and salt air will be good for you."

"Heath, why didn't say anything about your hip?" Nick leveled.

"I...I..." Heath sighed and looked at Nick's concerned gaze. "I'm sorry. I reckon it wasn't the smartest move I ever made. I wanted to win. I wanted the..."

Heath stopped as his head thundered again. He wouldn't let them know what winning that horse would mean to him. Any further commentary was interrupted. Heath's eyes were closed again. Jarrod saw the strained look disappear and heard the steady breathing. He tapped Nick on the shoulder.

"Looks like he passed out. We should go now."

Nick patted Heath on the knee and the two brothers walked to the house. In the parlor, Jarrod poured each a drink. Nick took his and stood by the French doors. Jarrod sat by the fireplace and waited for Nick to look in his direction before he spoke.

"Nice work in there brother."

Nick made a face and played the whole thing down. He drained the whiskey and poured another. Crossing the room he stood by the mantle.

"I keep thinking about what you said the other week. You know, him bein' 10 years old and working two jobs. Geez he really has a lot of pride. I hope he never finds out, I hated lying to him but..."

Jarrod rose and patted the leather vest. He didn't mask the admiration in his voice.

"I'd say it was a pretty noble lie, Nick. Come on, let's have dinner."

"Gin!" Audra announced laying the cards down.

"Boy Howdy, you sure do know how to hurt a guy when he's down." Heath smiled.

It was late on Wednesday afternoon. Audra spent a few hours each day with him, playing cards or checkers. She sure was nice. He still didn't understand why she was bothering with the help, but he liked her.

Audra looked over at the handsome cowboy. He looked a little better and got a little stronger each day. He still had dizzy spells, but the headaches weren't as severe. She watched as he shifted in the bed and wasn't able to stifle a cry.She knew his hip and side were badly bruised. What he needed was a hot bath.

"I bet a hot bath would help that bruise. Why don't you have Red bring you over after dinner?"

Heath thought of how wonderful that bath had been on Sunday, after he'd fallen. The heat had penetrated the pained area and loosened him up some. It would help with the stiffness and soreness he felt.

Red watched the girl leave and put down his potato peeler. He dumped a large bowl of diced potatoes into the stew already full of minced onions, carrots and beef cubes. He looked through the entryway down to where Heath sat looking dejected.

"You all right son?" Red said as he made his way to the bed.

"I'm okay Red. I'm tired of bein' in this bed."

"Only been three days, boy. You got to give yourself time to heal. You know that's a fine idea Audra had. A hot bath would make you feel a whole lot better. If you want after dinner, we'll go over in the wagon." . "Maybe you're right, Red. It sure would feel good to be up and around a little."

Red arrived a little later with two bowls of stew. He set one down on tray in front of Heath, along with a large glass of milk and some brown bread. He pulled a small table over and ate next to the bed.

"Go on now, you need to put some weight on. You'll need it once you're on your feet. You'll be putting in 10 -12 hour days."

Heath dipped a hunk of bread in the stew and nodded. He was looking forward to working. Especially with horses. Josh and Andy ate breakfast with him each morning. They told him about the various ranch duties and how Nick loved catching wild stallions.

"Ten hours days on a fine ranch like this is heaven compared to some jobs I've held."

"Like what?"

"Mining, digging graves, even worked in a rock quarry one summer."

"You worked in the mines in Strawberry?"

"Yeah, when I was a kid. Lots of kids in town worked there. But horses are what I loved. When I was ten, a got a job at the livery. I didn't think you could be any happier." Heath smiled remembering.

Red thought in irony of how the subject of child labor in mines was one Tom hated. He found out years after selling that mine that the inspectors he trusted were on the take. They looked the other way for a profit. Tom did make trips to the mine, but the small boys were hustled away while he visited. The more Heath told him of his past, the harder Tom would be hit by the revelation. Watching Heath a few feet away, Red couldn't understand why Tom never knew of the boy. He'd thought Tom had made a trip to Strawberry about a couple years after that incident. He stood and took the empty plates to the kitchen. He returned and helped his patient stand. Heath was able to move slowly leaning on Red to the buggy outside.

Jarrod and Nick were shooting billiards when they heard Red's booming voice. They reached the foyer as Red eased Heath onto a chair in the parlor. Nick went upstairs to draw the bath, while Jarrod gave Heath some advice.

"Don't look to spry, Heath, Nick will put you to work."

"Unless he's got an opening for a statue, I doubt it." Heath gritted.

The few steps from the buggy to the chair had left him winded and sore. He had been concentrating so hard on walking, he'd missed the beauty of the house. His eyes roamed all over the room and up the grand staircase. He didn't miss the crystal chandelier or the huge vases by the door.

Jarrod watched bemused at the look on the young man's face. Heath finally cast his eyes to Jarrod.

"Mighty fine house. Never been in one quite like it."

"Thank you Heath. My mother and father take great pride this home."

Nick announced from the top of the stairs that the full tub was waiting. Heath leaned his left arm on Red and went very slowly up the stairs. He didn't say anything, but Red felt the grip tighten considerably by the time they reached the hall. Nick was going to tease him, but after seeing the sweat on his pained face and hearing how winded he was, he backed off. He pointed out the clean towels and left the pair. Red removed the tape from his ribs and eased the boy into the tub. He smiled at the relief on his face.

"You have a long soak, I'll be back. Don't go gettin' any ideas about climbin' out of there yourself!"

"Don't worry." Heath muttered. He laid his head back on the porcelain lip and closed his eyes as the steam surrounded him.

Red joined the two Barkley's for whiskey in the billiard room. They didn't see him in the doorway. He watched for a minute as the two debated a problem with the irrigation system. Where had the years gone? Listening to them now, he heard so much of Tom in them. So confident and secure. He thought of the boy upstairs, who hadn't had those strong arms to guide him.

"Red, how about a game?" Nick challenged.

"You got money to put where your mouth is?"

"Red your luck just ran out," Nick said lining up the cue ball.

"You know Red, maybe Heath should take a hot bath in the morning too. He must be awfully sore and stiff after laying all night." Jarrod thought outloud.

"I don't know, you didn't see what the walk upstairs did to him. I didn't think he'd make it to the tub." Nick replied.

"Well, there is an empty guest room across from the bath. He can sleep there. Red can come overafter breakfast and take him back." Jarrod said.

"Might be just what the boy needs. Two hot baths a day will take a lot of the stiffness away." Red added.

So went the rest of the week. By Friday, Heath was able to do the tub alone. Red would tape his ribs and they would return to the bunkhouse. Heath was walking better and starting to feel like his old self. He found himself telling Red bits and pieces about his life as they worked around the bunkhouse. He enjoyed eating meals in the main dining area and was getting to know most of the men.

Friday night while Red was cleaning up after dinner, Heath decided it was time to attempt putting his boots on. It took a little while and a lot of patience, but they went on. While Heath soaked in the tub, Red and Nick played cards in the gunroom. Jarrod was going to join them, as soon as he put some papers in the valise in his room. He was about to leave when he spotted Heath's belt on the floor. He picked it up and traced the bloodstains with his thumb. He must have dropped it Sunday night after when he got home. He poured some water from the pitcher in his room into a basin. He washed the dirt and blood off the buckle and wiped it clean. He was on his way to the stairs when he saw Heath. His wet blond hair shone in the gaslight as he tried to maneuver with boots in his hand.

"Here, I'll take them. You concentrate on keeping your balance." Jarrod offered.

"Thanks Jarrod. I'll put them on downstairs."

They joined Red and Nick in the gunroom. The three older men were engaged in a discussion on Nick's poker prowess. Nobody noticed Heath had picked up the belt and was staring intently at it.

Heath fingered the etching on the bronze oval. The suddenness of the flashback took him by surprise. He started to sweat and saw a strange man snarling at him, slowly wrapping the belt around his fist. He couldn't breathe; he tried to get up, but was paralyzed. He saw the fist draw back and...

They all turned at the sound of the heavy metal buckle hitting the table. They heard the cry of pain and saw the look of horror on Heath's face. Jarrod and Nick exchanged a worried glance and crossed the room. He was still gasping when they sat, flanking him.

"Take it easy, it's all over now. You were bound to remember it sooner or later." Jarrod advised.

Heath didn't reply. He face was furrowed in concentration. He picked up a boot and fished his hand down under the inside sole and pulled out money. He repeated the action with the other boot. He stared at it and then looked at each brother.

"They couldn't find it. They kept asking me, I...I...couldn't understand them."

"Here," Nick said handing him a brandy.

Heath felt the warm fluid fill him. He sat back on the sofa and frowned. He counted the money and looked at Jarrod.

"You told me you paid the bill with this money. I don't understand."

"We paid the bill with the money we found on the ground near you. They were running from the law and must have dropped some of their bounty when they heard Josh and Andy nearby." Nick rebounded.

"I don't know. Something don't seem quite right," Heath thought aloud.

"Look Heath, it's all over. That's your money. You can take it with you Sunday when you go to Santa Barbara or we can put it in the bank Monday for you, with your prize money." Nick's firm tone advised.

Heath thought for a minute and nodded.

"I'll let you know. I have to think on a few things."

"Well there you are. Don't forget we have a picnic tomorrow. You'll be leaving Sunday for a week and I'll be leaving this week to visit my friend Sally in Utah for awhile." Audra announced

"I wouldn't miss it. I'll make sure I'm plenty hungry." Heath smiled at the pretty girl.

"Audra, Silas is cooking the food, right?" Jarrod asked.

"It's none of your business, big brother" Audra retorted.

"Oh yes it is. I don't want him poisoned before his first day. You keep your hands out of that kitchen." Nick challenged.

"Oh you two! Good Night all. " She laughed as she exited.

Saturday afternoon.

It was a beautiful summer day. The picnic was on a grassy bank dotted with wildflowers by the creek. A jug of lemonade complemented the fried chicken, potato salad, hard-boiled eggs and cake.

Heath sat back sated against the tree.

"I can't eat another bite. Thanks Audra, it sure was nice of you to go to all this trouble for a banged up cowhand."

"You're more than just a banged up cowhand, Heath. " She smiled and continued.

"That's a nice name, very unusual."

"Named for my grandfather. Heathcliff Andrew Gorden Thomson"

"Wow, that's quite a name. Do you like it?"

"Kinda long. I'm just glad my mama shortened it to Heath Andrew Thomson."

"Are you anything like him?"

"I don't know. I never met him. He came from England when he was very young. He settled in Kentucky, outside Lexington. Best place for a boy who loves horses. Maybe it's in my blood"

"How did you get to California? Did your grandfather move here?"

"No, He worked for one of the better families, as a horse trainer. My grandma died when my mama was little. He raised her alone. He died when she was 12. My Aunt Rachel was my grandma's best friend, she and Hanna, a freed slave who lived with Aunt Rachel, took mama in. They moved west right after and ended up in Strawberry."

"So that's where you get that wonderful accent. I love to hear you talk."

He blushed and drained his drink. He closed his eyes and dozed off. She watched him sleeping and remembered Jarrod words of how hard his life was.

He woke up and saw the sun was getting low. Audra was reading a book nearby. He pulled himself up and stretched, forgetting his sore ribs. She heard him cry out and saw him stagger. She managed to grab at him and steady him. Suddenly, there she was in his arms.

He looked in those blue eyes and saw something that made him uneasy. They stood that way for more than a few seconds. He felt her leaning in and made a move. His kissed her forehead and thanked her.

"It's getting late, we gotta get back" He said brusquely.

She was quiet on the trip back. He felt even more uncomfortable. They pulled up at the bunkhouse and he climbed out slowly. She wished him a good trip.

"Audra, I like you, I like you a lot. But, as a friend. I'm sorry if...well...I hope I didn't give you the impression..."

She climbed down and took his hand. The smile was sincere and he felt better.

"I like you too Heath. I hope we become good friends. You didn't mislead me."

Breakfast was done and the bunkhouse was quiet. Red was painting some shelves outside on the porch. Heath stood with his bag waiting for Nick to bring the rig around. He was anxious to see his mother and looking forward to spending some time with her. He walked over and sat on the bench by Red. Red looked up and smiled at the boy.

"Sure gonna be lonesome with you gone. Never knew such a stubborn body." He laughed

"Red, I want to thank you for all you did this week. I mean, you didn't hardly know me last weekend and there I was throwin up all over you."

"Kinda gets you well acquainted real fast," Red joked and saw Heath grin.

Heath sat forward as the rig approached. Red gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"You weren't any trouble son. `Ceptin' I'd like to have nailed that hide of your to the bed!" He teased.

Heath chuckled as the rig approached. Nick pulled up and took Heath's bag. Red gave Heath a hand up and his blue eyes smiled warmly at the boy.

"Thanks Red." Heath's eyes told Red the words covered more than the hand up. He did really care for him. He was glad the boy felt the same way.

"You have a nice visit with you mother, boy. Try to stay in one piece. Old Red just about worn out takin' care of you." He chided.

"I will Red. See you next week."

Nick turned the rig around and stopped by the coral. He glanced over and saw Heath staring at the horse. There was no doubting the look in his eye.

"You sure worked him in right Nick. Reckon you'll make him look real good."

"Heath, he's not mine. I broke him in, but his owner has yet to be decided."

Heath didn't understand what Nick was trying to tell him. He turned to his new boss and asked him to clarify.

"I don't understand Nick. You won him, he's yours."

"I didn't win him fair and square. I got cheated. I..."

"Cheated? I didn't cheat!" Heath's anger rose.

"Yes, You did!" Nick replied hotly, just as angry. His fist hit the seat behind him. "You didn't tell me about that hip. You were hurt. Me takin' that horse would be stealing. I won't accept anything less than 100%. I want him, Heath, and I intend to win him. But only when you're completely well. Well have a tiebreaker. Winner gets Charger. Agreed?"

Heath's gaze traveled between man and horse. He sat several minutes and Nick spoke again.

"You wouldn't take advantage of me. What makes you think I got any less pride than you?"

"Okay Nick. We'll do it again." Heath agreed.

Nick saw the sly grin he'd missed all week appear.

"Charger huh, I like that. It'll suit us fine. Heath and Charger. It's got a nice ring to it. Course, sometimes, if you're nice to me, I might let you ride him."

Nick laughed as they pulled the rig up the drive and Heath soon joined him. Red watched them pull away and thought how well they fit together. Fate sure had a funny way of showing up. Tom told him not long ago how often he thought of the son he'd lost. The son who would have helped Nick run the ranch when he was gone. It worried him, Nick being alone, without Tom to curb that temper and share the load. Now, there was a chance.

Heath eased himself into the steaming tub. It was Thursday already and the week was more than half-gone. The heat penetrated his bruised flesh and allowed his stiff muscles to relax. He enjoyed the quiet morning ritual while his mother visited the mission. Once his bath was done, he would pick her up and stop in town. They would walk through the colorful marketplace, stroll past the colorful adobes and have lunch.By early afternoon, she would tire and they would return to the inn. After her long nap, they would walk on the beach and talk. They usually ate with Dave and his wife.

Leah loved to stitch and was embroidering a seashell and ocean design on the center of the small tablecloths used in the dining room. So while his mother was busy sewing, Dave was teaching Heath to play chess. Dave was surprised to find Heath such a quick study, while Heath was taken aback by his enjoyment of the game.

The cool water reminded Heath it was time to leave. He climbed out of the tub with only a twinge of pain. He took his lean, wet body across the room. He used the large towel to dry off the glistening bronzed skin. He ran his hand down the left flank and was pleased that the bruises that were angry scarlet and purples last week, were now pale violet and blues.

Once dressed, he took the buggy down the street and around the corner. He pulled up to the majestic mission and removed his hat before entering. He stood in the back and waited for he to finish her prayers. It was peaceful in here; he understood her need to embrace the solitude of the hallowed hall. He saw her rise and started to the door.

They strolled through the plaza where vendors sold wares in every size and shape. Colorful Mexican blankets, silver jewelry inlaid with turquoise and pottery along with peppers, tomatoes corn, breads of all kinds, and other foodstuff. Heath's eye caught a silver hair clip with a turquoise seashell inlaid in the center. He thought of all the mornings Audra spent with him and it found it's way into his pocket.

"It's very pretty. Who's the lucky lady?"

"Audra, Jarrod's sister. She's been real nice to me last week while I was laid up."

Leah stopped at a bench near a cart overloaded with flowers. Heath meandered over to a boy and his mother selling leather goods. Leah watched her boy and worried about his possible relationship with Audra. She knew Tom was away, Heath mentioned the trip east. She didn't want to tell him before Tom returned. She was afraid of the violent reaction. If he got to know Tom first, surely it would be easier. He hated the father he never knew for the name he didn't have and the awful burden that went with it. If he got to know the flesh and blood reality; the wonderful, strong man she remembered, it would lessen the blow. She prayed every day her decision was the right one.

"Mama, where are you?" Heath sat next to her and squeezed her hand.

"Lost in thought, son. What else did you buy?" She glanced at the leather pouch in his hand. It was a soft tobacco pouch with loops on it, to be worn on a belt.

"It's for Red" Heath said handing it to her. "After I'd be settled in for the night, he'd go outside to smoke his pipe. I here him cussin' and complainin' cause he'd forget the tobacco tin."

They arrived back at the colorful inn and Maria ushered her favorite customer to a pretty table by the window overlooking the beach. Leah smiled remembering how uncomfortable Heath was on Sunday when he arrived. Maria took one look at the battered boy and took over his care. It didn't take long for her stubborn son to realize that arguing with Luis' wife was an exercise in futility. Leah knew a part of him gave in to Maria's ministrations to ease a mother's mind.

"Senor Heath! You finish every bite"

Maria placed an oval clay dish with a lid on the table along with a sizzling platter of strips of beef, peppers and onions.Heath poured each of them a glass of cold water from the large clay pitcher. He took a warm, soft flour tortilla out of the clay dish and wrapped the meat mixture in it.

Maria returned and placed an omelet and small fried potatoes in front of Leah.

"You finish all of this Senora Leah."

"Thank you Maria, it smells wonderful."

Maria frowned and ran her hand along Heath's ribcage. Leah saw the Mexican woman scowl and unleash a string of Spanish. Heath cringed instinctively and tried to defend himself.

"Stop fussin' Maria, I don't need no wrappings. My ribs are fine."

Maria shook her head and they heard her voice trail off as she headed back to the kitchen.

"So how well do you know Audra, son?"

Heath swallowed the last spicy mouthful of his lunch and shrugged.

"We're just friends, nothing more. She's real pretty and nice, but I'm not interested in anything besides friendship. If that's what you were thinking."

Before Leah could respond Maria returned with a roll of tape in her hand. Leah couldn't help but laugh at the sight of her six foot blond son being manhandled by the tiny woman. His protests fell on deaf ears as she led him into the kitchen to wrap his ribs.

Saturday night after dinner, Heath and Leah sat outside on the small verandah and watched the moonbeams dance on the dark water. The lyrical strumming of the surf against the rocks complemented the star show.

"You're awful quiet Mama, you feeling okay?"

She hugged his arm and laid her head against his strong shoulder.

"I'm fine now that I know you're happy. The Barkley ranch seems to suit you. It's the first time I've seen that longing in your eyes disappear."

"It sure does feel right, Mama."

Heath sat there for some time after Leah went to bed. He thought on her words; was he content?

Sunday afternoon, Stockton.

Heath stepped off the train and scanned the station for a familiar face. Not finding anyone, he picked up his bag and started across the street. He heard his name called and saw Josh waving at him.

"You're a little early, welcome back. How was your trip?"

"Good." Heath greeted the handsome, sandy haired young man.

"You look a whole lot better, but I got orders from Nick for you to see the Doctor."

Heath ignored the young man's plea and put his bag in the back of the wagon. He climbed up and looked back, but the street was empty. He felt a tug on his arm and saw Josh standing by his side.

"Look Heath, you might as well get this done. Neither one of us wants to rile Nick up. He'll only drag you back. And Red will kill me for sure. Until Doc. Merar gives you the okay, Nick won't let you work."

The bunkhouse was empty when Heath and Josh got there. The men were already in the dining hall seated at the tables playing cards or just talking. It was almost time for supper. Heath heard Red singing in the kitchen and smelled chicken cooking. He put his bag on the bed Josh led him to and retraced his steps to the kitchen. He saw several loaves of bread sitting on the sideboard.

"I hope you made some with cinnamon and raisins, I sure am hungry tonight."

Red wheeled and a grin split his face. He crossed the room and greeted his young charge.

"Just cause you got your legs back don't give you call to be giving orders boy."

Red eyed the young man carefully taking in the deep tan and handsome face. Only faint bruises remained. He sure missed the boy and was glad he looked so fit.

"How you doin' boy? You look fitter than fiddle to me."

"Doin' good, Red. Rested up and ready to go!"

Heath sat down at the table in the kitchen and bit into an apple. Red added some butter, milk and salt to the cooked potatoes and set about mashing them.

"What did the Doc have to say?"

"He's fine."

"Real glad to hear it. You okay to work? How's the hip? What about your ribs?"

Heath smiled at the man's back and took in the concern in the old man's tone.

"He said it's about time I started earning my keep around here."

"Don't worry son, Nick's got a whole lot of stuff lined up for you to do. He'll be over later. He plays poker with a few of the boys on Sunday night."

After supper, several of the men were playing poker. Heath walked across to the corral where Red was watching the sunset. He handed him the pouch and stood uncomfortably as the older man's eyes widened in surprise.

"What's this for?"

"For taking such good care of a busted-up stranger and so we don't have to hear you cussin' everytime you lose that tobacco tin."

"I ain't forgetful, that damn Josh is always hiding that tin. Thinks it's funny for me to go hunting for it." Red complained.

Heath watched as Red fingered the soft, smooth leather and attached it to his belt. His voice was much quieter as they walked back to the bunkhouse.

"Real thoughtful of you son, Old Red sure appreciates it. It's a real fine pouch."

Heath held the door as they entered. He grinned behinds Red's back as the voice reverted to it's normal fussin' tone.

"Don't go thinkin' this gives you extra privileges. Go on now, them young fella's in just dying to lose their money tonight."

Heath poured a cup of coffee and sat near a trio playing poker. He watched for several hands and turned as Nick's booming voice filled the night.

"So who's ready to turn over some silver? Good to see you boy."

His spurs crossed the room and he slapped Heath on the back on his way to the table. Heath found his way to the bunk. He was tired and the sun would be up all too soon.

July 4th brought the Stockton Independence Day celebration. The whole town joined in the festivities. Dozens of contests, races and events were held throughout the day. The Barkleys hosted a barbecue dinner and fireworks at the ranch. The last event of the day held at 6 p.m. Everyone was anticipating the showdown between Heath and Nick for Charger. Nick guzzled his beer, slammed the mug down and climbed on Coco. He nodded and the calf was released. The crowd watched as Nick quickly roped and tied the animal successfully. He jumped the fence as the time of 7.6 was given.

"Oh yeah!" He gloated accepting Jarrod's handshake. The two brothers watched as the hands rallied behind Heath and shouted encouragement as he mounted Buck, the black stallion he'd been using since his return. He seemed a blur as he deftly roped and tied the calf. Nick knew before the score was given. Jarrod knew too and smiled despite Nick's dark face. Nick cursed and kicked the fencepost in disgust as a half dozen hands surrounded Heath, whooping and hollering. The 7-second flat time would be one he'd never forget. He rubbed Buck's neck and spoke softly to the stallion as he led him back to the stable. He returned and put the saddle to his new steed.

The crowd dispersed into smaller groups, eating, talking and enjoying the music. Nick and Jarrod watched as Heath trotted around the corral on Charger. Heath tipped his hat at the brothers and with a wide grin as Charger and his new master headed down the road for a good ride. Heath let out a whoop that even turned up Nick's mouth at the corners.

"Come on Nick, let's get some dinner. I got a feeling Heath will be gone for some time."

"I'll be there in a minute." Nick's eyes followed the pair until they were out of sight.

Nick rode into Stockton on the last day of July. It was a scorcher of a day and he stopped at Jarrod's office to see if the lawyer wanted to get a beer. Jarrod's office had become unbearable as the noonday sun bore in on him. Nick arrived just in time.

"Nick, you're just the right man for the job"

Nick looked slightly perplexed at Jarrod's hand draped on his shoulder.

"Unless it involves beer, I ain't interested."

"Brother, you read my mind. Lunch at Cattlemen's?"

The two enjoyed a beer as they waited for their lunch.

"So where's your other half?" Jarrod teased.

It seemed lately everywhere Nick was, Heath was at his side. The first few weeks Josh, Andy and Heath had worked together. Josh was the same age as Heath, but much more outgoing. The two had become good friends. Andy was a good 10 years older and his experience completed the team. Andy was the one who checked in with Nick each day for the work schedule. It didn't take long for Nick to notice just how much work was done and done well. Andy pointed out that Heath's skills were complemented by his sharp senses and enhanced by his work ethic. Nick began looking closely at the young man and paired off with him when possible. Andy was right on the mark. Heath was quickly becoming Nick's right hand man.

"Him and Josh are picking up the supplies for the drive. I'll need him on this drive, three thousand head in three weeks is quite a chore."

Nick took a huge bite out of his steak sandwich and waved to someone out of Jarrod's vision.

"We're all set Nick, we're gonna head back to the ranch. Josh will go over the list with Red. I'm gonna fix that fenceline. I'll see in the North Meadow later and we'll finish up that branding."

"Skip the fenceline, it's too hot. Start on the branding and I'll meet you there."

Jarrod turned in time to nod to Heath as he went out the door. The two resumed their lunch and contract discussions for some of the upcoming crops.

Nick arrived in the North pasture and approached the group who were busy branding calves. He wasn't surprised at the missing party.

He retraced his steps and rode slightly east to a large section of property where the fenceline had been torn up. He approached the lone figuring whose blue shirt was soaked through by the unmerciful sun. He grabbed his canteen and dropped it at Heath's feet.

"You know, I have met some mules in my day, Heath, but you take first prize."

Heath took several swigs and wordlessly handed the canteen back and resumed his task. Nick wasn't surprised at what little fence remained in disrepair.

"Well?" Heath finally drawled

"Well what?" Nick grumbled

"If you got something more to say, get to it. I got work to do." He finished another section and moved down several feet.

"Like spittin' into the wind," Nick complained as he walked in front and lifted the plank.

"What's that Nick?" Heath smirked

"And don't think I can't feel you grinning back there." Nick grumbled.

The drive would take them south to Los Angeles, where the herd would be divided and sold. Some would make their way to Mexico, the rest to Texas. Some of the hides and tallow would be shipped to manufacturers on the East Coast.

A cattle drive's success depends greatly on its discipline and planning. Nick was the trail boss and had several men under him who in turn supervised the rest of the crew. The most experienced men rode "point" and "swing" at the head and sides of the extensive herd; the least experienced brought up the rear, riding "drag". These lucky souls would go right for the water barrel at the end of the day to rinse their mouth and cough up the residue.

Teamwork was an essential part of the trip. Working cohesively to move the herd an average of 15 miles during the day and rest at night. These steadfast cowboys had to gage the temperament of the cows and chase down a stray without panicking the rest. Hardship and danger rode hand in hand with these hearty men.

The saddle he rode in also served as a chair, pillow and bench. Nick eased off his horse and placed his saddle on a spot by a couple of the men. He headed to the mess wagon. He didn't see Red around and helped himself to a plate of grub and some coffee. He eased his weary frame against his saddle and took a mouthful of stew. He looked at the men scattered about eating and sleeping and marveled at their endurance. He only took the toughest men on campaigns like this because there was no time for failure; no room for error. Losing a few head to heat and drowning was common. Losing a life to stampede or drowning didn't happen often, but always was a fear.

He watched as two more men arrived, bleary eyed and waved off food in lieu of sleep. Red turned and Nick saw the concern on his face as the old man walked away from the mess wagon. Nick left his platter and walked around to where Red stood scanning the dark horizon.

"What's wrong?" Nick asked.

"He should have been back by now, he's been gone too long." Red's voice was tinged with worry as he unconsciously fingered the tobacco pouch at his waist.

Nick's brow furrowed as he thought for a moment. Then he realized just what Red's concern was.

"Heath isn't back yet?" Nick voiced, a little anxious.

Heath had left that morning in search of the best route to the river. He should have been back by early afternoon. Nick laid a hand to the older man's shoulders.

"He'll be in soon Red. Come on, you got customers."

Nick eased himself down and his food suddenly lost its interest. He finished it without really tasting it. He heard Andy ride up and grab a plate. Andy's weary bones found a spot next to his boss.

"What's the matter with him, he's not himself," He said indicating Red with his spoon.

"Heath's late" was Nick's reply as he slid down and rested his head on the saddle. His eyes closed and he tried fitfully to rest. What seemed to have been a few minutes in realty was over an hour when something jarred Nick awake.

"You aimin' to put me in an early grave? Where the devil you been boy? Get over here and eat something."

Nick saw Heath's head emerge from the water barrel. He had submerged it to the shoulders. Nick moved over to allow the weary cowboy to sit by him. Exhausted didn't begin to cover what he read on the man's face.

"You okay? What happened?" Nick asked.

"A little tired, boss." Heath half grinned and started to wolf down his dinner. He paused and to dismiss Nick's worried face.

"Riverbed dried up; I had to ride further than I planned. I finally saw some mesquite bushes and knew the river wouldn't be long after."

"How far?"

"Doable, about 10 miles from here. I rode up and tried crossing until I found the right spot. I was getting a drink when a rattler spooked Charger. Took me quite a while to track him down."

Heath finished his meal just in time. His eyes wouldn't stay open any longer. He leaned back and didn't hear Nick.

"Nice work, cowboy," Nick lauded as he watched the blond sleeping.

Crossing the river was a dangerous part of the drive. Each man had to keep the cows pointed to the opposite bank and keep them from milling. If they starting milling and jumping; hitting one another, they could go down. Once the river was forded, the other fear was a stampede. One jittery cow was all it took to set the others off.

Nick's sharp eye didn't miss any of Heath's actions on the trip. He was not only talented and hard working, but extremely smarts, never panicked and had lighting fast reflexes. No job was too hard, no task went undone. Nick watched the men head for the saloon, celebrating the successful endeavor. They'd come up tall and Nick saw to it that each man received a generous bonus. He would join them as soon as he met with the Government representative to pick up payment for their third of the herd. The other two contractors had paid already and Nick wired the money home.

Nick entered the saloon, picked up a beer and stopped to talk with Andy. He saw Heath and Josh carrying on with a pretty young saloon girl. Andy followed his bosses gaze and seemed to read his mind.

"Something tells me that young fella's got a real future with the Barkleys."

"He's got the right stuff Andy. With a little time and seasoning, he just might be my foreman oneday."

Nick didn't know that Phil Smith and Larry Hawkins heard his words. Phil had been working for the Barkley's for over five years. Putting in his time and doing everything Barkley told him. Lots of times he wanted to pop that loud mouth, but was smart enough to know where his bread was buttered. Hawkins was his sidekick, and had a nasty temper. They watched Andy and Nick approach Heath and Josh.

"I got a feeling that kid is going ruin our plans" Hawkins sneered

"Not if I have anything to say about it. That kid isn't taking my place. I aim to be foreman one day. I won't let him stand in my way."

"You might not have a choice, Nick's takin' quite a shine to him."

"Then he'll have to be removed somehow."

Victoria Barkley stood in the doorway and breathed in deeply. It was a wonderful trip, a celebration of their 30th anniversary. Nothing compared to coming home. She missed every inch of the ranch and couldn't wait to see her family.

"Silas, Jarrod where is everyone?"

Jarrod's head flew up from the contract he was reviewing in his study.

"Mother?" He called as he walked quickly to the foyer

"Mother!" he greeted her warmly, embracing her and kissing the tiny woman's cheek.

"It's good to see you son and good to be home."

"You're early, we weren't expecting you to next week."

"It was a wonderful trip. I've so much to tell you. But I got homesick, we sped things up to arrive this weekend."

"Where's father?"

"He's a few days behind me. He had some business to finish in Denver and will be home Monday."

The luggage was starting to compile in the foyer. Jarrod thanked the hands that brought it in.

"You seemed to have twice as much. Looks like you did a little shopping?"

"Oh did I ever, Jarrod. Where are Nick and Audra?"

"Nick's around somewhere; Audra's not due back from Sally's until next week. You look exhausted, why don't you take a bath and I'll have Silas bring you a tray up."

She nodded and was halfway up the stairs when she remembered the torn parcel.

"Oh Jarrod, could you take that to Audra's room. Put it on the wall across from her bed."

Jarrod followed her slim hand as it pointed to a one-foot square picture wrapped in torn brown paper. He saw her disappear into her room. He unwrapped the picture and nearly dropped it. His vivid blue eyes were filled with shock and he found his heart racing. He sat down on the bottom step and stared in stunned silence at the revelation in his trembling hand.

"Blackjack" was all he could utter as he stared at a blond youthful handsome face with his bride. The painting was done shortly after their wedding.The face that looked back at him, right down to the expressive blue eyes was that of Heath Thomson.

Heath was getting ready to leave for town. He was anxious to see his mother.

Nick had just finishing settling Santana in his stall. The fiery red stallion was a beauty and would fetch a handsome price in Sacramento at the horse show.

"She sure is a looker." Heath commented

"So was her namesake!" Nick grinned

"Really?" Heath smiled "Local girl?"

"No, down just south of the border in a little town, can't remember the name. She had a temper ... and sharp nails...well.uh." he laughed lustily with Heath joining him.

The horse seemed to be insulted at their remarks and threw her hooves at them. Both men jumped back, but Heath snagged his forearm on a nail and lost a nice hunk of flesh.

Nick pried Heath's hand away from the blood stained sleeve and took a look.

"It's not deep, but you need to get it cleaned up and bandaged. The house is closer than backtracking to the bunkhouse."

He left Heath in the kitchen and went upstairs for bandages and liniment. Heath kept pressure on the arm and held it over the sink.

Victoria heard voices from the hall and decided to surprise Nick. She crept down the backsteps into the kitchen and was surprised to see the back of a lean blond man by the sink.

"Can I help you?"

Heath turned and saw an attractive, slim, silver-haired woman staring at him aghast. He knew this was a mistake. Mrs. Barkley might not like a hand bleeding all over her kitchen.

"I'm sorry ma'am. I wanted to go to the bunkhouse but Nick insisted. I'll leave, Red can patch me up."

Victoria was paralyzed. Her mind was numb and her limbs leaden. She couldn't find her voice as she stared mutely at the handsome fair face. There was no mistaking the eyes, features or hair. This boy was a Barkley. He was the image of her father-in-law.

Nick's loud feet found their way down the stairs and he booming voice shocked her into moving.

"MOTHER!" He cried delighted.

After placing the items on the table, he bearhugged her and swung her around.

"When did you get home? Is father here? How are you?"

Even her son's enthusiasm couldn't stop her head from spinning. She swallowed hard and shook herself out of it.

"It's good to see you son."

Nick followed her puzzled gaze to his reddened friend. He released his mother and brought Heath over to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mother, this is Heath Thomson. You remember Jarrod mentioning Heath from the hospital in San Francisco. He's been working here for the last three months. Don't know what we would do without him. I was gonna fix the cut on his arm."

"Pleased to meet you Mrs. Barkley. I'm sorry about bleedin' all over your kitchen."

His soft voice was well met. She nodded and had him sit down and rolled back his sleeve.

"I'm pleased to meet you too Heath. Let's have a look at that arm."

Jarrod walked to the deserted bunkhouse and found Red sealing a letter. He looked up as Tom's oldest boy sat down across from him. Jarrod's face didn't set well with Red.

"Just finished a letter to your grandfather. Something wrong Jarrod?"

"Did you mention to Blackjack that his grandson Heath is his spitting image?"

Jarrod's determined voice ended with the placement of Blackjack's wedding picture in front of Red's vision. Jarrod looked down and the two pairs of blues eyes met.

"Best get some coffee boy, we got a lot to discuss" Red said slowly.

Red drained the strong coffee and looked around the deserted bunkhouse. Jarrod was smart enough to broach the subject when all the hands were scattered around the ranch. He found himself caught in Jarrod's intense stare. The lawyer's voice was adament.

"You've known since the rodeo, haven't you?"

"The minute I laid eyes on him. It was like looking back in time."

Red poured himself another cup and stood by the window. Turning back to the table, he watched Jarrod's mind working.

"You're a smart fella, Jarrod, you do the math."

Jarrod nodded and a slight strain showed on his face. His voice seemed distracted as he remembered.

"Heath was born May of 1849. Summer of `48..."

Jarrod cocked his head and tried to remember. Bits and pieces of an frightened eight year old boy's memory.

"He left us that summer. He was gone for a long time. I remember being scared, not understanding."

"It was a bad time. Losing that baby just about did your folks in. He sure was a cute little fella."

"Yes, I remember how happy it was after he was born. Mother and Father were always laughing. Then he was gone and the house seemed dark all the time. I remember Mother crying a lot and Father being...distant?"

"Terrible time. Went on like that for months. Then your father decided to take a trip to Strawberry to invest in a mine."

"Did you know Red? Did you about Father and Leah Thomson?"

Red looked at Jarrod's acute gaze which mirrored his tone. The old man's eyes glared right back and he replied in stern coated anger. His weathered hand pointed to the window.

"What I know is that there's a boy out there who's losin' the only parent he's ever known. A woman who's done a damn fine job raisin' him alone. Bad enough how busted up he'll be when he's gotta bury her. How he came to be is old business. You want details, you get that from you father, not me."

It was no secret how fond Red was of Heath and Jarrod knew he would protect him. Red was right about Heath's heartache. His mother's death would take enough toll on him. How would he react to truth about his parentage?

"Why didn't you say something sooner, Red?"

"Not my place, son. Until your folks come back, it was best to leave things be. Your father's got to be the one to tell him. He better have a damn good excuse for neglectin' that boy."

Jarrod sat back surprised by the venom in Red's voice. He was Tom Barkley's best friend; you'd never find anyone more loyal. He never heard the old man speak ill of his father. He watched as Red got up and walked towards the door.

"Mother just got home, Father will be here Monday. That doesn't give us a lot of time."

"No matter how it's done, that boy's gonna be hurt; and that don't set well with me." Red said as he exited.

Victoria sat with a heavy heart in the small sitting room off her bedroom. She looked at the photo in front of her taken five years ago on their 25th Anniversary. Most of the years had been good ones. Every marriage has its ups and downs and theirs was no different. Tom's affair in Strawberry had been hard to accept. Her husband, the man she'd chosen to spend her life with and cleave to, had been with another woman. It had taken awhile for him to gain back her trust and their bed.

She stood and placed the photo on the mantle of the fireplace. She walked through the bedroom and decided to go downstairs. She couldn't get Heath's face out of her mind. She couldn't remember what words he'd spoken. She wrapped the cut on his hand and nodded distracted at the conversation he and Nick were having.

She stopped in mid-stride when she saw the discarded brown wrapping paper on the foyer floor. Jarrod had the picture, he knew too. She made her way to the parlor and requested Silas make some tea.

Jarrod returned to the house later that afternoon and was on his way upstairs when a voice drew him back.

"I met Heath this morning."

He walked slowly in the parlor and sat down on the setee facing his mother. Her face was unreadable. She reached over and took the picture from his hands. She shook her head as she took in John Barkley's features.

"I'm sorry Mother. It must have been quite a shock."

"It was Jarrod. When your father and I were married, your Uncle John was about Heath's age. When I walked into the kitchen this morning, that's who I saw. A stranger with the Barkley face that John and Blackjack and his father have."

"What are you going to do Mother?"

"Nothing until I speak with your father. He has some questions to answer. There's no denying what he's done. No matter where the fault lies, Heath is not to be blamed. He's a Barkley as much as any of us. This ranch is his home too."

"He might not see it that way. He's got a lot of pride. I don't want to lose him, Mother. I'm afraid that just might happen. He might bolt."

She crossed the room and sat next to her oldest child and took his hand.

"Well then I guess his big brother will have to convince him. Nick doesn't know and until I speak with your father, he's not to be told. We have enough problems without dealing with his temper. Red knows, of course."

"Since the day they met. He's become very attached to Heath, which is a good thing. I think Heath is going to need him."

It was a glorious sun that left a glimmering image on the ocean. A solitary figure walked in the distance. The bells from the mission rang out their Sunday greeting. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the sun. She felt him kiss her forehead and smiled up at him.

Heath sat down and clasped the frail hand. Her smile tried in vain to conceal what her eyes couldn't. It wouldn't be long now. He was startled at the change in her. They'd talked about it when he arrived. She told him she was ready to go home. She was praying for God to call her. It was time, and he had to be strong and go on. So they enjoyed their two days in the sun. He held onto every smile, storing for when he'd need it later. He kissed her again and stood.

"I gotta leave now Mama. I'll be back in a couple days. I love you."

"I know son, I love you too. Don't frown so; I'm happy Heath. Go on, you'll miss your train."

It was just after 5 p.m. when Heath walked from the train to the livery to pick up Charger. Nick told Heath when he left that the horse would be brought down for him sometime today. He tipped the boy at the livery and made his way to the ranch.

He entered the bunkhouse by the far end, near the infirmary. The last thing he expected to see was his good friend Josh occupying a bed. He covered the distance to the bed in a few strides. He looked at his unconscious friend and laid a hand to the stilled shoulder.

"Josh?"

The pale young man never moved, but Heath heard Red's voice behind him.

"He's lucky. Surprised some rustler's last night. Took a bullet in the side. He lost some blood, but the doctor thinks he'll be okay in a week or so."

"What happened Red?"

"We've been having some trouble the last few nights. Lost quite a few head. Nick posted men all over for night duty. I wouldn't want to be them fella's when Nick gets a hold of them. He's in one foul mood."

Red wiped the boy's fevered face and saw something he didn't like on Heath's face. Heath alternated staring at Josh and the floor. Finally he rose and paced to the window.

"What's eatin' you boy?"

"It's my fault. We work as a team. If I would have been with him, maybe he wouldn't be lyin' there."

"Stop talkin' nonsense and git over here so as I can look at ya while I holler."

Heath didn't budge, so Red did. He crossed the room and turned Heath to face him.

"Now listen, there's no room in this bunkhouse for talk like that. All the fella's where patrolling, Nick included. It could have happened to any of them. Josh nailed one of them and the sheriff is hoping that guy will talk. It's nobody's fault, least of all yours. He's gonna be fine. Take that long face of yours out for a walk. I won't have him wakin' up and seeing you lookin' like that."

Heath nodded and left with Red's pat on the back. Tomorrow he and Nick were picking up some horses from a nearby ranch. He'd tell Nick when they got back. He'd go to the bank on Tuesday and draw some money out. Then he'd return and stay with her, until her time came. The padre from the mission had been over and told Heath he'd help.

Heath was so lost in thought he didn't realize he'd wandered so far from the bunkhouse. He looked up to find himself in the middle of a garden. He made his way to a gazebo near a small pond. He suddenly felt the weight of the situation. A woman who meant more to him than he could ever repay would leave him soon. The solitude of the empty garden provided some comfort. He rubbed the moisture from his eyes and exhaled heavily.

Victoria liked to take a walk before dinner. These last few days had been especially trying and she enjoyed the garden. She saw the forlorn figure in the gazebo. She watched him for a few minutes. She understood Jarrod's description of how expressive Heath was. His face held great sorrow. She approached quietly and spoke.

"Are you all right Heath?"

Heath jumped up so fast he nearly knocked her over. He steadied her with his hand and apologized.

"I'm sorry Ma'am. I didn't mean to disturb you. I don't even know how I got in here. I went for a walk and ended up in here. I'll go now."

She pulled his arm and indicated for him to sit down. She sat next to him and watched the shoulders slump. He sat like that for several minutes and she saw him swallowing hard.

"Is it your mother? Is she worse?"

He nodded and continued to study the pattern on the tiles in the bottom of the pond. He felt the small hand cover his and squeeze reassuringly. Try as he might his eyes kept filling up. He wiped them again and finally spoke.

"I'm losin' her Mrs. Barkley. I thought I could handle it. It's real hard."

"There's no right or wrong way to handle death Heath. The pain of losing someone you love hurts deeply. Time will help and so will all the people who care about you. Her body will be gone Heath, she'll always be in your heart. No one can take that away."

She knew he was fighting back tears. She rose and stood behind him, allowing him to let the tears go.

"She deserved so much more. She was beautiful, Mrs. Barkley. She should have married someone and been taken care of proper, not been stuck with..."

His voice halted. She gripped his shoulders and was glad he couldn't see the tears of rage that she wore. She looked up at the balcony to her bedroom and silently cursed Tom Barkley. How could you do this? She composed herself and returned to her seat. She took turned his face towards her and gripped the strong chin.

"Every child is a gift from God. Your mother loved you very much young man, and don't you discredit her by sitting here wallowing in pity. She raised a good man, a strong man. Throw your shoulders back and stand tall. All the innate goodness and moral fiber that Jarrod saw in you is a reflection of her."

He took a deep breath and smiled a little. She was right. His mother wouldn't tolerate him bein' down in the mouth. She's was always so proud of him. Always made him feel special.

"My golden child." He thought outloud.

He saw Mrs. Barkley smiling and he continued to hold her hand.

"Is that what she called you?"

"She said...she said I was her own special angel sent from God, her golden child."

He never told anyone that before. He didn't know why this kind woman caused him to open up so, but he felt a whole lot better. He stood and she walked with him to the back gate of the garden that led outside.

"Your mother must have been very special to raise such a fine young man. You keep that close."

He smiled and thanked her. She turned to walk back to the house and heard him.

"Mrs. Barkley, I'd say you're pretty good at this motherin' business too."

She saw a part of the gentle soul Jarrod spoke of in his eyes.

Breakfast was quiet. Jarrod was glad that Nick was preoccupied with the rustler's. He didn't seem to notice the strain. Jarrod would take his mother to meet the train. He would take them to his office, so they could talk in private. She felt Tom should know before they got home. The train wasn't due until eleven, but Jarrod had some things to clear up in the office. They would go in early.

Tom Barkley rode onto the ranch a little after nine a.m. His train got into San Francisco late the night before and he took the overnight steamer. He was anxious to get home. He stopped at the entrance to the ranch and breathed in deeply. There was nothing like coming home. He urged the team onward. He left the wagon laden with luggage and more in front of the house. He heard the loud voice reaching across from the corral. He smiled at the sight of his son Nick, his well-appointed heir. He was so much more that Tom could have hoped for. A real leader who had earned the respect of every man working on the ranch.

"You're not getting paid to stand around boy. Good thing I'm home, before someone steals the ranch from under your nose."

Nick wheeled and grinned at the familiar sound of his father's voice. They were a few feet from the bunkhouse and Tom thought the windows surely would burst at the boy's welcome.

"FATHER!" He greeted the older man and embraced him.

"Good to see you son."

" Where are Mother and Jarrod? They drove in to meet you."

"I didn't take the train. I took the steamer and came up from the river."

Nick saw Heath approaching from the bunkhouse, behind his father's back. He waved his friend over.

"Father, there is someone I'd like you to meet. Jarrod told you about him before you left. He met Heath in San Francisco."

Tom nodded recalling how strongly Jarrod felt about the boy whose mother was dying. The image of the boy at 10 with two jobs was one that stuck with him. He turned at the sound of the young man's voice.

"I'm Heath Thomson. I can't tell you how glad I am to meet you sir." Heath extended his hand and ended up grabbing the older man as he staggered.

"Father, what's wrong?" Nick cried alarmed at the ashen face, now sweating profusely.

Red got to the doorway and took in the scene. What the hell went wrong? Jarrod was supposed to see to it that Tom got home after Nick and Heath left. He ran outside and took control. Tom's shaky voice found him.

"My God Red...I can't believe..."

"I can," Red interrupted before Tom could say anymore. "You're too old to be gallivanting around in this heat. I bet you didn't eat anything. That would give you the shakes. Come on inside, I'll fix you up."

"Something's wrong with him, I'm getting a doctor." Nick protested.

"You get yourself over to that horse auction. I seen him through a lot worse. He ain't sick. Go on now."

"Go on Nick, Red's right, I'll be fine. Those horses won't wait. Too much sun on an empty stomach is all that's wrong."

The two took walked to the corral and Red ushered Tom into the kitchen. He walked through the bunkhouse, glad to find it deserted and out of Josh's hearing. He returned to see Tom staring at Nick and Heath who were standing by the corral. Heath was leaning on the fence and Nick had his hand resting casually around the younger man's shoulder.

"Look Tom, it wasn't supposed to happen this way. Jarrod and Victoria was supposed meet you and explain."

Tom couldn't tear his gaze away from his two sons. The shock was still ringing through his system. His eyes drank in every part of the boy.his son, his love child with Leah. The Scottish Barkley mark stamped all over him. His grandfather's very image.

"They're close?"

"Like two peas in a pod. Different as night and day, but inseparable. He's a good boy, Tom. Tough as nails, proud, stubborn, smart."

"My God Red, what did I do? Why didn't she tell me? He lived in poverty while we lived in a mansion. How can I face him?"

"Why didn't you ever go back? You had to know it was possible."

Tom watched Nick slap Heath on the back and heard the hearty laugh he knew so well. Somehow, he'd make it right. This is where the boy belonged, beside his brother, running the ranch. He watched as they left, embracing in the sight of the heirs to his empire as they rode off.

He turned and sat on the end of the nearest bunk. Red handed him a shot of whiskey and poured one for himself.

"I wrote her twice after I got home. When she didn't answer, I thought it was done. But I did go back, Red. Two years later when the mine closed. I saw her in town, she didn't say a word."

"What the hell did you expect her to say? Things have been swell since you left me with a bastard?" Red voiced in anger

Tom looked at the man he'd come to love and respect as a brother. Fifty years they had shared, good times and bad. He needed those broad shoulders now. He took the strong hand offered and let Red pull him up. Red firmly addressed him as they approached the door.

"Look Tom, you and Victoria got through that mess 22 years ago. Nothing can change what's been done. He needs you Tom. His mother's dying, it's gonna be any time now. You're gonna have to do whatever it takes. He's been hurt far too long. It's time for that boy to come home."

Victoria found him on the balcony off the bedroom. She didn't say anything as she took a seat across from him. Finally he looked over at the woman who stood by his side all these years.

"I'm so sorry, Victoria."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to. We did this 22 years ago. I won't have that brought up again. What I can't understand is how you could have left this happen? I thought you checked on Leah? You had to know a child was a possibility."

"I did check Victoria. I tried writing to her and she didn't answer. I was wrong, I assumed if she were with child, she would have contacted me. I saw her two years later when I sold the mine. She never mentioned the boy. My God Victoria, don't you think I'm heartsick over this."

"Don't go there Tom. You had all the resources in the world to have her checked. I think you were relieved when she didn't answer the letters. It still doesn't excuse you for not seeing it through. That boy lost his childhood went to bed hungry and you know all too well the name-calling he suffered through. Despite all that, she raised him into a fine man. You should have taken care of him. You better choose your words carefully when you tell him. Don't lose him. He'll be burying his mother soon and he needs a father. Even if he fights you, and I know he will, you hold onto him. "

He nodded and felt her brush past him.

"Jarrod knows about Heath. Nick and Audra don't. Dinner is at six." She said frostily and left the room.

Phil Smith and Larry Hawkins left the saloon and were headed back to the ranch when the sheriff stopped them. It was time they headed back to the ranch. They could eat before reporting for night duty guarding the herd.

"Phil, Larry, wait up a minute."

They turned as the sheriff approached them.

"You tell Nick I can't spare any extra men tonight. Those rustler's hit the Kelly ranch and one of the hands was killed. I'm using those extra men on the posse. You tell Nick to watch out, these guys are killers."

The auction netted two fine mares and a stallion. Heath and Nick stopped halfway home to water the horses and get a drink. Heath tied his canteen and thought of his trip in the morning. He tried putting it out of his mind and it nearly worked.

"Nick, my mama's in a bad way. She...well I think her time is near. I'm going to Santa Barbara tomorrow."

Nick looked down from Coco to where Heath stood leaning on Charger's saddle. Heath had been exceptionally sullen all day. Hadn't hardly said a word. It appeared he had a lot on his mind. He caught Heath's eye and nodded.

"Okay, take all the time you need."

Heath stood transfixed by his mother's words from Saturday afternoon. They had been on the porch and she suddenly turned to him.

"Heath, we need to talk about your father."

"The less I know about him, the better."

She grabbed his arm and her voice became insistent.

"Heath, I've never pressed this issue. You need to know about him. I want you to meet him. Heath, please."

"I can't Mama, not now." He stalked off.

It was left that way. Heath got angry when he thought about it and didn't hear Nick.

"Hey, what is it?"

"My father!" Heath spat with a venomous tone.

"What about him?" Nick leaned forward.

"Never mind" Heath retaliated as he rode off leaving Nick to wonder why his face was in a rage.

It was a quiet dinner. Tom never came down. Jarrod and Victoria ate alone. Nick ate early and went to the bunkhouse to update the men. Jarrod and Victoria were in the parlor when Tom entered the room. Jarrod felt the frosty stare his mother sent to his father. She remained seated.

"Good evening son."

"Father" Jarrod nodded.

Tom sat and was immediately uncomfortable. He started to sweat and Victoria nodded to Jarrod and glanced at the French doors. He opened the doors and walked out onto the verandah, looking slowly and carefully around the perimeter. He didn't want anyone to overhear. Satisfied, he returned.

He noticed his father stood by the door, enjoying the breeze the night carried. They stood abreast for a moment. Jarrod was the first to make a move.

"We need to talk about it. We need a plan. What do you intend to do?"

Phil and Larry left their horses by the corral and made their way to the house. The Barkley's were creatures of habit, it was just about 7 p.m. and that meant they were in the parlor. Phil saw the French doors open and heard the voices as they approached. Larry was about to bypass those doors to go the front, when the words caught his attention. Both men snuck in to listen.

"He has to be told Father. But it has to be the right time. His mother is dying, from what he told Red, probably in a matter of days."

"I know that Jarrod, I don't want to hurt him any worse than I have already. But I want to be there for him when it happens. He'll need someone to stand by him."

"I don't know if he's strong enough to handle the news that you're his father Tom," Victoria found her voice and continued, "He's very fragile right now. Last night I found him in the garden; he was very upset. It might be best to wait until he comes back from Santa Barbara."

"He's been without a father long enough. I want to tell him tonight and be there for him."

Tom left the room and the conversation ended. The marshal's message was forgotten as the two made their way to the deserted area behind the bunkhouse.

"Well whaddya know, the old man got a colt outta the woods right here in our bunkhouse." Larry leered.

"What do you think Nick's reaction would be if he thought that his new found buddy was saying he was old Tom's kid?" Phil asked.

"He'd never believe us. He'd throw us out for sure." Larry lamented.

"Oh, he ain't gonna hear it from us. Follow my lead" Phil said.

They walked towards the bunkhouse. Red was dozing on the far end of the porch. Phil put his fingers to his lips and they went the other way in the infirmary door. Josh was restless. Larry watched Phil smile at the open window by the boy's head. The two waited until the boy started to blink and nod his head. Just outside the window they talked in voices low enough for him to hear, but not quite identify. They spoke of Tom being Heath's father. How Heath was going to move into the big house and become a Barkley. Larry peeked in and saw Josh shaking his head, the bait was planted. Nick stopped in after rounds each night to visit the boy. The two left and waited for the fireworks to start.

It was after eight p.m. when Nick stopped by to visit Josh. He'd grab a quick cup of coffee and then head out again. He noticed Josh seemed very upset and restless. Nick skipped the coffee.

"What wrong with the kid?" He asked Red.

"Beats me, Nick, he hasn't said a word all night. Something's eatin' away at him. I tried to calm him down, but he clammed up. His fevered spiked, I going to get some ice. Nick, do Old Red a favor and see if you can calm him down."

Red left and Nick approached the bed cheerfully.

"How's it going Josh? Red treatin' you okay?"

"Nick...Nick...Is that you?"

Nick sat down and watched Josh fighting to speak. He felt the boy's head, he was burning up. Something was bothering him. He looked scared to death.

"Look kid, It ain't your fault about the rustler. Don't be..."

"...not that, something else... important... you should know but ... you're gonna be sore."

Nick saw the sweat running down his face. He picked up the towel soaking in water and wiped the boy's face. His concern rose as the boy started to thrash, all torn up over something.

"Hey, take it easy. Tell me what's wrong."

"... guys. they said...they said that..."

Josh couldn't look at Nick. He couldn't believe it himself. Maybe he shouldn't say anything. Nick saw the clouded eyes clear up and Josh accepted the glass of water he held. When he finished, Nick pressed him.

"They said what?" Nick demanded.

Josh head was pounding and he was worried. Why didn't Heath come back? He wanted to talk to Heath first. But Nick should know, in case those guys went after Heath. Taking a deep breath, he looked Nick in the eye. He used most of his remaining energy and finished.

"They said Heath is saying that Mr. Barkley is his father; that he's going be living with you in the house and taking the Barkley name."

"WHAT!" Nick shouted.

He jumped up and the chair flew across the room. Josh shrank back into the pillow and grimaced at the bellow.

"Who the hell told you that?"

"...sorry Nick, couldn't see who it was. ... Shouldn't have said anything. ...wanted to talk to Heath first, but he ain't been in... was worried they got to him. I shouldn't have done this."

It wasn't Josh's fault. The kid had enough problems fighting a bullet wound and fever. The boy had used up all his reserve and now was fighting to stay awake. He patted the young man's shoulder and lowered his voice.

"Don't go getting upset, Josh. You did the right thing. You get some rest. It's okay, I ain't mad at you."

Josh wanted to believe Nick. But as he gave in to the black wall descending, he knew he'd made a mistake.

Nick strode to Coco and stopped short of mounting. His mind reeled back a few hours to a conversation he had with Heath coming back from the auction. Heath had been moody all day. Sullen, not speaking and angry at times. He remembered the black look the blond man gave him when he mentioned his father. So that was it, he was planning on taking a piece of the Barkley pie.

He rode in a fury towards the spot across the ranch where Heath was on guard duty. He trusted him; he let Heath get close to him. He'd see to it the boy paid for it. Several hundreds yards before he got to the post, he saw the fence cut and several steers were missing. This only fueled the fire.

Heath heard the horse pull up and turned in time to be met by a powerful shot to his jaw. The force sent him to the ground. He started to clear his head and felt another blow split his lip. He stared in disbelief at the attacker.

"Nick, what's the matter with you?" He spat out with some blood and climbed to his feet.

"You no good lying dog. How dare you? You're gonna regret you ever opened you big mouth."

"Nick, what..."

A blow delivered to his midsection cut off his thought. He sank to his knees and coughed repeatedly. Gasping for breath, he looked up and saw nothing but rage in Nick's face.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I'll tell you," Nick grabbed the startled man and hauled him to his feet before he continued, "I trusted you Heath. You repay that by saying that you're Tom Barkley's bastard son? How could..."

If it wasn't so dark, Nick would have seen the look of shock register on Heath's face. Why would Nick say such a thing? The sight of Nick's fist ready to strike again brought him out of his stupor. He didn't intend to be a punching bag, so he cut off Nick's thought with a solid shot of his own.

The two exchanged blow after blow. They broke the fence and Nick caught Heath off guard and used all his remaining strength with a powerful blow. It sent Heath crashing forward into the jagged edge of the fence. He had no breath to cry out as the wood caught him across the chest. He shoved Nick with all his might and saw his head hit the fence post hard. He saw Nick approaching and never moved. Nick words hit him hard.

"You get off this ranch. You're no Barkley. You're fired. Get out."

Heath sat in stunned silence as Nick staggered away. He watched Nick fall and lay still in the dirt. He crawled over and felt the warm sticky lump on the back of his head. He caught his breath and tapped Nick's face.

"Get up."

Nick never opened his eyes but he did use the fence to pull himself up. Heath managed to get him on Charger and climb up behind him. Holding him tight, he whistled for Coco and they headed back to the ranch.

Heath was having a hard time staying awake and holding onto Nick. He was glad to see the bunkhouse and hollered for help. Andy and Red ran out and met the battered pair.

"What the hell happened?" Andy said taking Nick off the horse.

"Needs doctor." Heath gasped and saw Red looking at him in horror. "I'm okay."

Red and Andy carried the bleeding unconscious cowboy to the house. Jarrod and Tom met them at the front door.

"My God, what happened?" Tom asked as they carried Nick upstairs.

Jarrod relieved Andy who went for Doctor Merar. Red helped Jarrod ease Nick onto the bed.

"Careful, he's got blood on his back, he may have bullet in him. Was it the rustlers again?" Tom worried.

"I don't know. Heath brung him in. He was all beat up. I'll go talk to him and see what he has to say. Josh isn't doing so good, he's been unconscious for a while now and his fever's real high. Get the doctor to stop over when he's finished here."

By the time Red got back to the bunkhouse, Heath was gone. He looked outside and peered into the night. Where did the boy go?

Tom and Jarrod undressed Nick carefully. Victoria went to the bathroom to fill the pitcher with water and get bandages. The gash on his head had stopped bleeding but he hadn't stirred at all. Tom took the clothes across the room and saw Jarrod's puzzled face.

"What is it?"

"He hasn't been shot. He doesn't have a mark on him." Jarrod replied as he rolled Nick over.

"He was in a fight. He's beat up a bit and has a nasty lump."

Tom stared at the bloody shirt and handed it to his oldest son. Red said Heath brought Nick in. They stared at each other as Victoria placed the water down and queried them.

"Well if Nick wasn't shot, where did that blood..."

"It's Heath's." Jarrod replied flatly.

Tom walked to the bunkhouse to see Heath. Red was on his way to the icehouse. He never had such a night. Heath was missing somewhere, maybe hurt and Josh was in a bad way.

"Red, where is he? How bad is he hurt? Was he shot?"

"Tom, he ain't here. He was gone when I got back. Josh is much worse, I couldn't leave him. I think Nick found out and lost his temper."

"Why? How?"

"Josh is delirious and has been mumbling a lot. From what I can put together, Josh told Nick Heath was your son. I don't know who told Josh. Right now I'm trying to save his life."

."I have to find him, Red. I have tell him how sorry I am. He should have heard it from me. It's about time I took responsibility for what I've done."

Red gave Tom a pat on the back and went back into the infirmary.

Tom walked slowly to the house to update his family and wait for the doctor.

Heath stood up from where he hid inside the storeroom. Nick was right; he was Tom Barkley's bastard. He leaned out the window and watched his father walk to the house. His staggered gait was affected by their words as much as his injuries. He sank onto the floor and welcomed the blackness, which ended the pain.

It was still very dark when Heath woke up. He felt the crude bandage around his chest and was relieved that is wasn't wet. The long gash had spilled some blood and he was a little light headed. His eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and he made his way to a lamp on the wall. He kept the light low. It was enough to scratch out a note. He shivered and found a clean shirt from a stack of neatly folded workshirts. He walked over to the infirmary and made his way quietly to Josh's bedside. His hand told him the fever was lower. He was relieved. He saw Red sleeping on a cot nearby. He placed the note where Red would find it. He quietly took a few items and stole into the night.

Nick groaned and sat up, as the sunlight seemed to stab him in the head. His attempts at standing were rewarded with a firm push back onto the bed.

"Get off of me!" He growled and stood up and waited until the room stopped spinning.

"Nick, get back in bed before you fall down." Jarrod commanded.

Nick ignored him and made his way to the bathroom. Jarrod waited outside and steadied his brother as he staggered in the hall.

"Nick, where are you going?"

"Leave me alone!" He grabbed the rail and headed downstairs.

"Nick, get back here."

Tom and Victoria were in the parlor with Red and the three came running at the sound of Jarrod's call.

"Where do you think you're going?" Victoria stood in front of the weaving form.

"To finish what I started last night."

Tom Barkley stood next to his wife and addressed his son.

"Just what did happen last night?"

Nick leveled a gaze at his father through a red haze of pain.

"He said... Heath said..." He stopped as his anger returned and his voice showed it.

"...lying no good...He said you were his ...that he was your..."

"My son?" Tom finished, "He is my son Nick."

Nick's dark head shot up so fast it caused a flash of pain that staggered him. Jarrod steadied him and got him to a chair.

"No, you can't be...that means you and his mother..."

"Who told you about Heath?" Red asked.

"Josh said he overheard some of the men talking, but didn't know who. I wasn't gonna let him get away with it. So I went after him and taught him a lesson. Then I threw him out."

"Nick, how could you? You know Heath isn't like that. You took the word of a delirious man ramblings? They played you like a fiddle brother." Jarrod shot back.

"I knew what I was doing, it wasn't just Josh. Heath was moody all day, didn't say two words. Then on the way home, he got mad as hornet and mentioned his father. So I thought..."

"No, you didn't think Nick. Why didn't you come to one of us? Whoever set this up used you Nick. You played right into their hands. You let that temper of yours get the best of you." Jarrod finished.

"That's enough!" Tom commanded, "What's done is done. The important thing is to find Heath and help him any way we can. He is a Barkley and belongs here."

"No, you can't mean that!" Nick shot back and looked at Victoria "Mother?"

She said next to him and calmly spoke.

"Nick, you were only 4 and don't remember that summer. We lost a child that winter, you brother John, only 8 months old when he died. Sometimes when parents lose a child, it divides them; they become engulfed in grief. We should have clung to each other, but we pushed each other away. It just happened. Your father went to Strawberry in June to invest in a mine. He stayed for the summer. Heath was born the following May. Heath is your brother."

"I'm sorry son, we should have told you. What happened last night is what we were afraid of." Tom said and attempted to sit beside Nick. Nick moved away as if scalded.

"Don't you touch me. I ain't got anything to say to you."

Nick rose on unsteady legs and went back upstairs. Tom started to follow him, but Jarrod pulled his arm back.

"I'll go talk to him."

Jarrod knocked on the bathroom door and entered and found Nick running the hot water. He left some clean clothes and waited.

"Well?" Nick said without turning.

"Can I talk to you Nick" Jarrod said hopefully.

Nick didn't respond which Jarrod took as a sign to proceed.

"Heath didn't know who his father was until you told him last night. Someone set both of you up, and did a good job of hurting each of you. That's who you should be angry at, not Heath."

Nick turned and for a brief minute Jarrod saw a little sympathy and maybe guilt. Then the angry mask returned.

"How he found out don't matter. I won't accept him. Let me alone."

He waited until Jarrod left and sank into the hot water, leaned back and closed his eyes. He heard the door and looked up to see Jarrod in front on him holding his shirt. Jarrod handed it to him and Nick saw the blood on the back.

"He brought you home last night. Despite that fact he was hurt, angry and confused, his first thought was to get you help. We couldn't find him. Red found a note from him this morning. He's gone."

Nick tossed the shirt on the floor.

"Close the door on your way out." He said as he leaned his aching head on the cool porcelain.

"Okay Nick, I'll leave. I know you're hurt, I was too when I found out. It's a hard thing to swallow and more that a little unsettling. Father is human Nick, flesh and blood, not marble. Heath didn't cause the situation; he was born as a result of it. Put yourself in Heath's place. What would you have done?"

Tom arrived in the foyer just as Jarrod was leaving.

"I'll ride in with you Jarrod. You can drop me at the train station."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find my son."

Heath rolled over and shielded his eyes against the harsh sunlight. He sat up and looked around. He was just outside town, under a tree by the river. He saw Charger nearby and remembered stopping for a drink. He must have passed out. The height of the sun told him he'd missed the morning train to San Francisco. He crawled to the river's edge and splashed cold water on his bruised face. He took a long drink and headed for the bank.

Jarrod watched the train leave and sent his hope with it. He was up to his neck in the railroad debate. Over the next few weeks, things would be heating up considerably. Tom Barkley stood tall, but was his shadow enough to fight the railroad? He walked to his office and was about to turn the corner when he spotted his fugitive brother emerging from the bank.

He crossed the street and hurried up the walk, brushing the shoulders of passersby. He finally got within striking range. He grabbed the linen shoulder.

"Heath!"

Heath spun around and backed away from Jarrod. Jarrod saw the hands balled into fists and the steely glare.

"I'm not going to fight you Heath." Jarrod disarmed.

Heath's face matched Nick's in the bruise department. He eyed the front of the shirt and Heath answered his curiosity.

"I patched it up."

"Can we talk Heath?" Jarrod motioned to this office.

Heath didn't answer. He crossed the street and walked ahead of Jarrod. He waited silently while Jarrod unlocked the door. He saw Heath wince as he sat down.

"You sure you're all right? Want me to have a look?"

"I'm fine. Get on with what you gotta say."

Jarrod was treading carefully. Heath was sitting on thin ice and Jarrod didn't want to crack it. He crossed in front of Heath and looked out the window. He retraced his steps and sat on the corner of his desk, facing his brother.

"I'm sorry for what happened last night, we all are. We never meant to hurt you Heath. Father intended to tell you last night. Somehow, some of the hands found out and used Josh to instigate Nick's temper."

"So that's supposed to make up for it? Everybody knew but Nick and me? At least he was honest." Heath flashed.

"It wasn't intentional, Heath. We only found out a few days ago. We had to wait for father to return. Nobody could foresee someone using Josh to set up you and Nick."

"Nick and Josh?" Jarrod saw concern flicker briefly in the blue eyes.

"Nick's hard head has a slight dent, he's okay. Josh had a rough night, he's very weak, but we're confident he'll pull through."

"Look Jarrod, I gotta go."

Heath stood and Jarrod pulled Heath's arm, temporarily delaying his flight. Jarrod saw more than confusion and pain in his brother's eyes. A slight trace of fear and uncertainty.

"Heath, you can't escape your fate. You're a Barkley and the land, the heritage and everything else is all a part of you now. Try to keep an open mind while you're gone. Remember this is your home now."

Jarrod couldn't tell if his words were absorbed or denied. Finally Heath took the hand offered and found a key there.

"You'll need a place to stay tonight. This is a spare key, you keep it."

He felt the pressure of the reassuring squeeze to his shoulder and as he left he heard Jarrod's parting words.

"Take care, brother."

A heavy fog hung on the beach as the day came to a close. As he approached her, it seemed as if time stood still. She appeared through the mist as the twenty-year-old girl whose beauty took his breath away. He saw her cover her mouth and shake her head, as if to destroy a mirage. His steps tread softly and he found himself reaching for her hand.

"Hello Leah. It's good to see you. You're just as beautiful as ever."

Leah stared up at his handsome face in stunned disbelief. She took the warm hand and shivered all over. He stood in front of her and the years fell away. She remembered the dark haired handsome man who captured her heart and left her with a priceless treasure. She finally found her voice as he sat across from her.

" I can't believe you're here Tom. How did you know I was..."

She stopped and suddenly grew pale. Heath, something must have happened to him.

He saw the small shoulders shake and the slight form tremble. He saw the fear and realized what his presence indicated to her.

"He's fine, Leah, Heath is fine."

He handed her a handkerchief and watched her sigh in relief.

"He knows then? How did he find out? Is he all right? I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen."

Now it was Tom's turn to be concerned. He thought for sure the boy would be here. Logic tried to get a stronghold on fatherly concern. He might have missed the first train, maybe Red found him, maybe....

"I should have been the one to tell him, Leah and I intended to. Unfortunately, one of the hands found and and set off a chain of events that led to a confrontation with my hotheaded son Nick. Heath rode out last night, but I think he'll be here soon. I don't know what to say to him. How do you apologize for twenty- one years of neglect?"

Leah heard the catch in his voice and saw his eyes fill up. She took the strong hand in her weak one and held on.

"You open your heart to him Tom. He's every inch your son. He needs you. He's fine man and I'm proud of him, but he's full of doubt and lacks confidence at times. These last few months, spending time with his brothers had done a lot for him. I sense a strength appearing that he never had before. He's a little surer of himself. I think your "hot-headed son" had a lot to do with that."

Tom called to mind the picture forever captured of his two sons at the corral. They needed each other and he intended to set things straight. His blue eyes implored hers for an answer.

"Leah, why didn't you tell me about Heath? My God, you shouldn't have suffered so."

She stood and turned away so he couldn't see her heart shining through her eyes. She loved him much today as she had 22 years ago. That love was why she kept silent. She couldn't risk taking away from him what he loved most, his family.

"What's done is done and there's no use crying over spilled milk. I did what I felt was best for all of us."

He squeezed her shoulders from behind and she closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

"It's getting late and it's chilly outside. You better go in. I'll be back tomorrow. I need to right things with the boy."

He walked a few feet away and turned back.

"He's a fine young man Leah, a precious gift."

She watched until he disappeared into the mist.

It wouldn't be long until sunset. Red carried the tray of soup and bits of bread and placed it in front of Josh. Battling the fever had taken a lot out of him. Red knew the strain in the hazel eyes was from more than the illness. This boy wore guilt like a banner.

"Come on son, time for supper. Don't go sayin' you ain't hungry. Red knows better. I aim to see you out there where you belong."

Josh stared at the soup and made no attempt to eat. He looked up as another voice chastised him.

"Young man, you stop this nonsense right now. Feeling sorry for yourself won't help Heath."

Victoria saw the pale face shoot a look of surprise at her. She sat down and implored to the boy. She nodded sternly at the soup and he began to eat.

"I know you feel responsible for what happened. Someone used you to get to Nick and Heath. Heath's mother is very ill and he is with her. Nick will cool down eventually. The information you were told is true and it won't be brought up again. Heath is a Barkley and his place is here on this ranch. When he comes back, he'll need you on his team. So you listen to Red and get well."

"Mrs. Barkley, I'm real sorry for how this happened. I wish I could remember who said it. I never meant to hurt Heath. I'll make sure I tell him that, when he gets back." Josh smiled.

Victoria patted his hand and went outside. Red sat on the porch watching the crimson and violet sunset. She saw the letter in his hand. She sat on the bench next to him and patted his arm.

"He'll come back, Red. He's hurt and confused and more than a little stubborn. In time he'll make the right choice."

"I hope so Victoria. That boy means somethin' to me." Red's voice thickly answered.

He opened the letter and read the brief note again. "Red, I have to go away for awhile. I got some things to figure out. I'm fine, don't go worry about me. Take good care of Josh and tell him it's okay. Heath "

"It would appear you mean something to him too." She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and left for the house.

It was late when Nick finally returned home. The rustler's were caught a ranch nearby. The ones who weren't killed would hang for murder. He slid of Coco and stopped short when he saw Charger in a stall on the end. His brows furrowed and he looked the animal over carefully. Was Heath here? He saw the dried brown remnants of blood on the saddle that was nearby.

"Heath?" He said to the night air as he fingered the saddle.

Why was this so hard for him? Jarrod was okay with it. Why was he fighting so hard? He signed heavily and went in the house. Nobody was home. He needed a drink.

She was reading and heard the clock strike ten. A few minutes later the door slammed. She rose and put on her robe. She got to the landing in time to see Nick disappear through the foyer. She followed him into the library. He belted back a shot of whiskey and poured another. He turned as she approached.

"I'm glad you home in one piece, you shouldn't have gone out this afternoon. You should have been resting."

"Had a lot to do."

He threw himself into a chair and rolled the empty glass around in his hand.

"Where is everybody?" He asked without looking up.

"Jarrod came home briefly to eat and then went out again. He was meeting at the town hall to discuss the railroad issue and form a committee. Your father went to find Heath."

"I thought when I saw his horse..."

She knew he was struggling inside, he never could hide his emotions from her. She walked behind him and placed both hands on his shoulders.

"He had it sent back. You look like a renegade Indian with that bandage falling off. Let's go fix it."

He sat on his bed while she dabbed at the cut. She wrapped a clean bandage around his head. When she was done, he rose and drank the aspirin mixture. She watched the muscles in his back flex as gripped the windowsill.

" I know you're upset Nick. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Goodnight Mother" He replied without turning.

She walked over to the window next to him. For a minute she looked at pained face and he seemed to be a boy again. Holding all his troubles in a tight little ball until he exploded. She kissed his cheek and left him.

"Goodnight Nick, we'll talk in the morning."

She was almost at the door when she heard his voice. She turned but he never moved from his post.

"Is he okay?"

"Jarrod spoke with him; you left your mark on him, but he seemed fine. Your father will talk to him. He'll try to persuade your brother to come home." She tested.

His back tensed at the word "brother". She saw his mouth form a grim line on his profile. He spoke through gritted teeth.

"He's not my..."

He didn't finish; she started to speak to him but knew that look too well. She patted the sleeve and left.

"Heath!"

His strong embrace enveloped her. She winced as she traced the bruises on this cheek.

"I'm fine, Mama, stop frownin'."

"Hello, son."

She felt him stiffen in her arms. His eyes went from hurt through confused and settled on anger. He set her in the chair on the porch outside her room. He wheeled and his right index finger drilled the older man.

"Don't you call me that. You don't have the right."

"I'm sorry Heath, I never meant to hurt you. I only found out a couple days ago."

"It don't matter none how I found out. At least Nick is honest. I got nothing to say to you."

Tom closed the distance between them and put his hand on his son's shoulder. Heath jerked the hand away and moved to the side.

"I understand how you feel Heath but..."

"THE HELL YOU DO! Where were you while we were starving? Do you know how sick my mother was? How she suffered?"

"Please Heath don't" She pleaded standing between them.

"No Mama, he's gonna hear this. Understand? So you think you understand. While you were living the good life, I was crawling out of a mine every night, earning pennies. She deserved a whole lot better. Where were you? How many other bastards you got hidden away?"

Her slap took him by surprise. She placed both hands on his shoulders and shook them.

"Stop it. Don't you dare talk like that? I raised you better. Don't you ever let me hear you refer to yourself that way."

"I'm sorry Mama." He turned away from them and pounded his fist against the wooden post. She walked in front of him, keeping Tom behind him.

"Heath, you have to put the past away. It's time to move on. You have a family that will care about you and a good home."

He held her close as he spoke.

"You're the only family I ever needed; you're my home."

Looking over her head he glared at the shaken older Barkley.

"How could you leave her knowing that ...a child was possible? Why didn't you come back?"

Tom saw the blues eyes pleading with him. He saw past the anger and met a small boy, a boy desperate for a father.

Leah closed her eyes against Heath's shirt and sent a silent prayer to God to forgive her for what she was about to do.

"Heath, I..." Tom started.

"He did come back, Heath. When you were small, I sent him away. I didn't tell him about you."

"Why Mama?" His blue eyes begged.

Tom eyes met hers and he shook his head. She was sacrificing herself for him to save the boy.

"Heath, please try to understand. I did what I felt was best for everyone."

He closed his eyes briefly and hugged her. Then he brushed past his father and made for the ocean's gate.

"Why Leah? Why did you lie to him?"

He took her hands at the edge of the porch step.

"I don't have many days left, Tom. I want that hate and rage he's built up inside to go away. If he doesn't blame you, he'll allow you to be the father he needs. It's a small sacrifice; he'll be free finally. I'll rest in peace if I know his heart is finally free of all that pain."

She watched Heath sitting by the shoreline and turned back to him. She looked up at the blue eyes.

"He's a good boy, Tom. He has so much to offer. Go to him, make your peace. Love him, Tom."

"You're the bravest woman I've ever known Leah Thomson." He hugged her and went to his son.

Heath heard him approach and gave a sideways glance. He continued to stare at the ocean. He didn't seem to feel the cold spray that covered his shirt.

It took all of Tom's reserve not to reach out and embrace his lost son. He stepped closer to hear what Heath was saying over the roar of the surf.

"You did father me, but I've been without a father. I don't know how...how it will all fit."

"I so very sorry Heath. I can't make up for the time that's been lost. I can only offer you my heart and a promise that I'll be there for you from now on."

"For twenty-one years I was Heath Thomson, I've only been Heath Barkley for a few days. It's like having on new shoes. Just a little tight, but maybe, in time, they'll fit just right"

Tom smiled at the boy's simple analogy. He watched the blond hair move in the wind and was taken aback at how very much he was Blackjack's grandson. He felt the fact Heath used the word Barkley with his name was a good sign.

"Nick will come around in time. He lets that short fuse of his get the better of him."

"I got no problem with Nick. I don't blame him. I understand him, maybe a little too well. Nick looks you in the eye and shoots straight from the hip. He don't pull punches. I admire that. He do anything wrong. He was the one being honest, the only one."

"He needs you Heath, as much as you need him. From what Red and Jarrod tell me, you seem to handle Nick better than anyone. One day, the two of you will be running that ranch. The sooner you accept that and take your rightful place, the better."

"That means a lot to me sir. But, this whole business has come on suddenly. I'm staying with Mama until her time comes. I need to be alone for awhile; I've got a lot to think about. You see, it has to be something I want, inside," He tapped his chest, "Right now it's not there."

"But these last few months, you've done so well at the ranch. Weren't you happy there?

"I was as Heath Thomson. Everything's different now. I just don't know what road to take."

Heath sat for a long time, seemingly unaware of his damp clothes and the cool night air. He thought on everything that had happened. He decided to accept Tom Barkley. How could Tom Barkley be held accountable for, blamed for something he never knew about? He heard the sincerity in the man's voice and saw the pain in his eyes. Maybe it was best to begin tonight. But Heath still had emptiness inside. Something was missing. A warm jacket being wrapped around him silenced his shivers.

Tom saw the hand reach up to him. A mighty gesture; one that filled him with unspeakable joy.

Heath allowed the strong arm to haul him up. Their eyes locked for a moment and the boy gave his father a half smile. He allowed the embrace that followed and found his arms around his father as well.

Tom closed his eyes and allowed the tears to fall as he held his son. This boy who fought so hard all his life, would now have strong arms to guide him. He ran his hands through the blond hair and told his son he loved him. He felt Heath nod and felt the pat on his back.

"I didn't you were still here," Heath finally said.

"I intend to be here, son, from now on."

She celebrated the tears that ran down her cheek. Only father and son knew the conversation, but the embrace that followed was universal. She watched as they approached and her heart sang at the departure

Heath handed Tom's jacket back. His serene blue eyes met the older man's emotional stare.

"Thanks," He hesitated and then added with a blushing smile, "Father."

They embraced again and Tom's emotion-heavy voice broke.

"Goodnight son."

PART TWO

Five days later.

She had been sleeping most of the last two days. Heath never left her side. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. He knelt by the bed and kissed her. He saw the pain evaporate and she traced her hand along his cheek. Her eyes spoke of her love to him. He nodded.

"I love you too Mama."

He laid his head on her abdomen like he had as a child. She traced his spine with her fingers, something that always comforted him. He felt the hand go limp and he knew she was gone. Heath felt the Padre's hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry son. She's at peace now. The Lord called her home."

He patted the boy's shoulder and told him he'd be back. Leah had picked out a beautiful spot with flowers all around. Heath nodded but didn't make a move to get up. The priest left him to mourn the wonderful woman who gave him life.

The ceremony was brief. Heath read the 23rd Psalm and felt her spirit. The Garrett's came and Luis and his wife. They all praised Leah and embraced Heath. The padre was the last to leave and Heath thanked him. He knelt and stared at the stone cross that marked her grave. It was a beautiful spot - peaceful, full of flowers. She'd rest easy here. He felt the hand on his shoulder and welcomed the familiar voice

"It's gonna be okay, boy. Your Mama would be real proud of you. Old Red sure is."

He stood and embraced his dear friend. He didn't realize how deeply he felt until he saw him. He swallowed hard and looked back at the grave.

"Go on boy, you sit here and keep her company awhile. I'll be waiting back at the Inn."

"Red, I..." Heath choked.

Red watched him struggle to find the right words. He didn't need any; those blue eyes of his said a whole lot.

"That's okay, boy. Old Red feels the same way."

Red patted Heath on the back and turned towards the Inn. He glanced back as the sun broke through the cloudy sky and a beam of light fell on the kneeling form. He looked up to the cloud that held the light.

"Yes, Ma'am, I'll take good care of him. Old Red sure does loves that boy."

"I was so caught up in my trip, I didn't ask about yours. Was it wonderful? Did you and Father have a good time? How is everyone?"

"Everyone's fine and they all asked for you. The trip was wonderful. Audra, there is something you need to know."

She crossed the room to Audra's closet and took the picture out. This is a picture of your grandfather and grandmother shortly after they were married.

"That's Heath!" Audra gasped. "I don't understand."

"There's no easy way to say this. Audra, Heath is your brother. It happened a long time ago. Come downstairs, we have tea and I'll tell you about it."

By the time the story was done, Audra was uncharacteristically quiet. She didn't move from the chair in the Dining Room. "If he loved you, how could he?"

"Audra, when we lost that child, we became distant. The months he was gone gave me time to think about a lot of things. When he returned, he told me everything. We worked through it. Honey, a lot goes on between a man a wife; marriage is hard work. "

"I don't want to have anymore to do with him."

"Honey, he's your father. He loves you; he didn't do this to you. It was over 22 years ago Audra. The important thing now is not to blame Heath. He's had more than his share of heartache. He is a member of this family now and needs your support."

"I would never blame Heath, Mother. He's very special."

Silas came through the room and welcomed Audra home. He returned and handed her a small package that had her name on it.

"What's this?"

"I don't know Miss, it's been sitting back there in the kitchen for quite some time now"

Audra opened the package and a slip of paper fell out. She read the note and smiled. Handing her mother the note, she opened the package. She held the silver hairclip.

"It's beautiful" She looked at her mother "I told you he was special."

Victoria nodded and thought of the note.

"It seems that a certain busted-up cowboy thinks you're pretty special too."

He rented a horse from the livery in Twin Rivers. He arrived late in the afternoon on a stage from San Francisco. Strawberry wasn't too far away.

The town was deserted. He pulled up at the cottage and it seemed smaller than he remembered. He saw the empty clothesline and swore he heard Hannah singing. The house didn't have much left, a cot, a few chairs and a table. He sat on the cot and remembered. Coming in from school, face flushed. Dragging in after hours in the mine; her kissing the soot covered face. The day he came back from the war, she cried so hard that she lost her voice. He laughed remembering. Singing Christmas carols and hymns in front of the tiny Christmas tree he bought with the few pennies he'd saved, the year he worked at the livery. So many memories haunted him.

He took a deep breath and went to the foot of the bed. She told him to move the small rug aside, open the loose floorboard and he'd find a box. He took out the faded violet box with a spray of lilies on the front. Opening the lid, he found 2 letters, a picture in a frame with a small silver box at the top. He opened it and found a lock of blond hair and a baby tooth. He saw the tear hit the box before he could stop it. The letters were from his father and he wasn't ready to read them yet. He opened the back of the watch. It was her fathers, a gift from the plantation owner he worked for. It had a horse on the front and the initial "H" inside. He turned the picture over and saw her at her most beautiful. As a mother, young, vibrant and full of life. In her lap sat a baby less than a year old. He traced the image of himself. He replaced the items and drifted to sleep. His eyes were too heavy to open, but he swore he heard her singing.