Some move he made caused Heath to glance up and see him; the relaxation disappeared and it was as if shutters came down over his face.

"Need something, Nick?"

"No, just wondering if you wanted some of Audra's ribbons."

"Huh?"

"Well, with all the attention you pay to that mangy pony, the only thing she lacks is curls and ribbons. Just wanted to know if you had a special color in mind."

Heath paused for a moment, then gave Nick his fleeting grin. He finished with the Modoc and patted her once more before going to join his brother at the stable door. Both men went outside and began to wash their faces and hands at the trough. Nick's typical plunge under the pump and exuberant shaking splattered the younger man, whose economical movements made for little waste, even of water. Nick laughed at the expression of annoyance that flashed across Heath's face and considered getting him really wet. As if Heath read his mind, he moved out of danger and towards the corral.

'Heath? Heath!"

Audra came running from the house to greet him.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're back! I missed you so much!"

Exuberantly she grabbed her new brother and hugged him. Heath was startled at the greeting and flushed bright red as he awkwardly hugged her back. As he glanced at Nick, he saw his brother grin and flushed even more, realizing that Nick wouldn't help him out of this awkward spot. Gently putting Audra aside, he continued to roll down his shirt sleeves as he greeted his sister.

"Wasn't gone that long. Just two days."

"Well, Mother and I both thought the house wasn't the same without you. Besides, Nick missed you just as much."

Audra's innocent prattle occupied the ears of both men as they walked to the house. Heath was the last to enter, hoping still to be outside when Nick gave his trademark bellow, calling his mother and brother. Unfortunately, his timing was off and he got the full benefit of Nick's lusty shouts: "SILAS! MOTHER! JARROD:"

A rustle of silk cued him that Victoria was approaching as he simultaneously heard her rebuke Nick for shouting. She reached out her hand to Heath with a smile, and as he gently took her hand, she drew him in for an embrace.

"Welcome home, Heath. We missed you."

"Yes, Mr. Heath. Welcome back."

A genuine smile lit Heath's features as he handed Silas his hat and gun. He looked around at the mansion in wonder: Could it still be true that this was now home to him? As he automatically replied to Audra's questions, he thought back over the last two days on the range, alone and peaceful. Tallying cattle sure was a lot easier on the ears than a Barkley welcome!

"Supper will be ready in an hour. I had a feeling you'd be home today, so I fixed a big apple pie."

'Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate that."

A look of annoyance flitted across Victoria Barkley's face. She wanted Heath to feel comfortable, but at the same time, she hated being called ma'am. Putting that discussion-to-come in the back of her mind, she gently drew him into the library where Jarrod greeted him with a handshake and an offer of a drink.

"Thanks, Jarrod, but I need to clean up; maybe later."

With a nod, Heath left the room and went upstairs. Nick frowned but said nothing as they all watched the young man walk away.

Later that night, after supper, Nick and Heath went over the figures the younger man had brought back with him. Nick was amazed at the ground Heath had covered and the ability he had to discuss each area of concern for the stock and for the land. It seemed that when there was no focus on him, he relaxed and really opened up. As they ended their talk, Silas knocked gently on the door.

'Mr. Heath? One of the hands thinks you'd better come to the stable."

Heath looked questioningly at Silas. He rose and started to walk towards the door; Nick followed close behind. As they reached the stable, the brothers saw one of the hands kneeling by Heath's Modoc. Heath covered the remaining ground between him and the pony in seconds; as he knelt beside her, she lifted her head to greet him.

"What happened?"

"Heath, I don't know. I just walked in and found her like this."

"Well, let's see if she's . . . " Heath froze as his hands ran down her right front leg. He looked up for a second and then focused back on the pony, who moved her head in pain as he tried to lift the leg. She snorted once and then laid her head back down.

"Heath, what is it?"

"Leg's broke."

"WHAT? HOW CAN THAT BE?" Nick's roar subsided as his skilled hands discovered what Heath had already found. His eyes went to his brother, who was rubbing the pony's head and crooning to her.

"Nick? We need to get her up if we can."

"Heath, the leg's broken."

"This stall's too small to do what I have to do."

Heath's face was expressionless as his hands continued to caress the pony. Nick looked at the hands who had gathered. All were staring quietly at the new Barkley. Nick sighed deeply.

"All right. But with that leg . . ."

"I know. But she'll try for me."

"You'll just cause her pain, Heath. Let me take care of this. You go on back to the house and I'll see that . . ."

Heath's eyes met him in a cold stare. Nick was chilled at the intensity in those eyes. He realized that there was no way that Heath would let him take this burden from him.

"All right, Heath. All right. But take care of it here; we can handle what needs to be done. Don't cause her any more pain."

"Jim?"

"Yes, Heath."

"Go get my gun."

"Heath."

The same blue stare met the foreman's eyes. Jim dropped his eyes first and left the stable. He returned with Heath's gun and handed it to him without a word. Heath nodded and turned back to his pony. Nick gestured to the men to leave the barn as Heath began to talk to his pony. Standing up, he moved back out of Heath's direct eyesight to give him some time with the horse he loved so much.

"Well, horse, we had eight years together. Reckon that's more than most. You sure were a sight that day, all decked out in your Christmas ribbons. Never saw anything prettier in all my days. Sixteen years old, and never owned my own horse. Still don't know why Mama sold her stickpin to get you; guess she was that glad to get me home from the war in mostly one piece. We've gone a long ways together, you and I. Reckon I'll never forget you."

As Heath talked to his pony, he was lost in his world of memories. He petted and caressed the Modoc, who lay and looked at her master trustingly. Finally, Heath cocked his gun and aimed it carefully at the gentle pony's head. Nick watched, mesmerized. Heath dashed his arm across his eyes and aimed again.

"Heath, let me . . . "

As Nick started to plead with his brother to spare himself the pain, Heath pulled the trigger. The bullet was true, and the horse relaxed gently.

"No more pain for you, little gal. No more."

Heath sat back, one hand on the horse's mane, staring at the body of the pony he had loved so much. As the echoes of the shot faded, Victoria came into the stable. She looked at Nick with a question in her eyes. He shook his head. Gently, she went to Heath's side and took the gun from his hand.

"Heath? Sweetheart, let Nick take over now. Let's get up now, Heath; let your brother finish."

Heath blindly allowed the petite woman to lead him out of the stable. She tucked her arm in his and began to walk with him. As she got him outside, he twisted away.

"No offense, ma'am. Just . . . "

"You'd like to be alone?"

Heath nodded mutely, looking at the ground.

"I understand, Sweetheart. If you want any of us, we'll be waiting for you here."

Heath walked toward the corrals he used to gentle the horses under his care. Victoria sighed deeply as she watched the young man, so full of hurt and pain, refuse once again to allow anyone to delve inside his mind and heart and help him. Nick joined her as he waited for the men to do the work of removing the pony.

"Nicholas? How did it happen?"

"I don't know, Mother. But one thing's clear. It was no accident."

Victoria stared at him in shock.

"But who?"

"I don't know, Mother. All I know is that I hope and pray Jarrod or I find out who did it before he does. If Heath finds out, there'll be no stopping him."

"Oh, but surely--"

"Mother, you know more about Heath than the rest of us put together. But these past weeks have shown me one thing: there's a wild streak in him. He's wound so tight most of the time that if he ever unloads, I don't think all the angels in Heaven could stop him."

With that, Nick turned back to his unpleasant task.

As Victoria watched Heath walk away, Jarrod and Audra came out of the house. Audra reached out to Heath, who blindly pushed her away.

"Heath? What's wrong? I heard a gunshot . . . "

Heath gave no answer but kept on walking. Jarrod guided Audra gently to where their mother was standing.

"Mother? What's happened? Why is Heath walking away?"

"Audra, Heath's pony is dead."

"That was the gunshot?" Jarrod asked.

"Yes, it was. Evidently she had a broken leg, and Heath, well, Heath--" Victoria's voice broke as she tried to relate what Nick had shared.

"Heath did what had to be done himself? He didn't let anyone else help him, did he, Mother?"

Victoria shook her head no as she clung to Jarrod's hand. He sighed deeply.

"Let me go after him."

"No, Jarrod. I told him we'd be here, waiting for him. Let him fight this battle alone."

"Mother, it seems to me that he's fought too many battles alone. I think--" Jarrod's voice was cut off as Victoria shook her head firmly.

"No, Jarrod. No. I think he needs some time to deal with this. He loved that pony with all his heart. And there are things we need to talk about when Nick finishes up in the stables."

The discussion later that evening in the house grew loud and heated.

"Nick, can you be completely sure?" The lawyer's voice persisted as he spoke with his younger brother.

"Well, Jarrod, if you mean did I see someone come in and break that horse's leg, then of course not! But things just didn't look right! That pony was as surefooted and calm as any horse I've ever seen," the cowboy hotly replied.

"Isn't it true that horses can be cast and break a leg?"

"Yes, Jarrod, they can. But I also know that there are other ways of breaking a horse's leg. AND I say AGAIN, I don't think this was an accident."

"But who would do that to Heath's pony?" Audra asked with tears in her eyes. "He loves-- loved her so much. Who would hurt him like that?"

The silence in the room answered for all of them. Since Heath had come to them, his presence had made an impact on the community. Many disapproved of the Barkleys' acceptance of him; many believed he had no business becoming part of the family. But there was one man especially who seemed to hate Heath. Arthur Winters, a fanatically religious man, refused even to make eye contact with the blond cowboy when introduced to him. While Heath and Nick had been in Stockton one day, they had run into Winters, whose property bordered theirs. During a conversation between Winters and Nick about common access, Heath had offered Mrs. Winters a hand up into her husband's buggy. Winters pulled Heath away and hit him with all his strength while shouting at him to never touch a "decent female" again. Heath returned the punch and in a very few minutes, he had defeated Winters.

Since that day, Winters had refused to have anything to do with the Barkleys and had sworn vengeance on Heath for the humiliation he had received. Victoria had ridden over, trying to make peace, but Winters had told her that Heath was of the devil's seed and that if he ever rode on his land, he would be killed. Heath had ignored most of the discussion about the episode, saying only, "Won't be the first, won't be the last to think that about me."

The day before Heath left to tally cattle, he had been mending fence on the north ridge. Mrs. Winters had ridden by; a minute later he heard her screaming. Although he was shirtless because of the heat, he had leapt on his pony and ridden to see what the problem was. Her horse had bolted; Heath caught up with her, rescued her, and after getting his shirt, escorted her home.

When Heath got home himself, he had said nothing about the episode. When Winters heard of it, however, he had ridden over to the Barkley ranch the next day, threatening to have Heath arrested for making advances to his wife. Jarrod had invited him to take the case to court, telling him how much he relished hearing his explanation to a judge about how angry he was because his wife's life had very possibly been saved.

"Nick, you don't think . . . "

"Now, Mother, I don't know what to think. Maybe I am wrong; maybe she just got cast and things went wrong. I just know I don't want him out alone again until all this is settled."

"Oh, he'll love having you ride herd on him, Brother Nick," said Jarrod, pouring his brother another drink.

Nick grumbled down in his throat as he tossed the liquor down. "If you think it's such a problem, Pappy, why don't you sully your lily-white hands and work with him?" he asked sarcastically.

"That, dear brother, is a privilege I leave entirely in your hands. From what I hear, he can work rings around any other person on this ranch, and I doubt I could begin to keep up with him."

As the family laughed, Victoria turned her head, listening for the sound of an opening door. She wondered where the blond young man had gone, and she wondered if he would ever let down his guard and trust her.

No one heard Heath come in that night, but he was at the table for breakfast the next morning. His shadowed eyes and drawn face told their own story. When Audra attempted to condole him, he simply responded with a nod. After that, he toyed with his food, staring only at his plate.

"I've told the men to put your saddle on Charger," Nick said casually as he forked the last piece of ham off of Heath's plate and put it on his.

"Charger?"

"Yeah. You'll need a good horse, and that stallion needs trainin'. He won't be much support to you at first, but you'll get him trained. Got the potential for a good cuttin' horse, don't you think?"

The whole family stared at Nick. This loud, impulsive, hot-tempered man, with a reputation for walking roughshod over anyone who got in his way, was making a gift of the horse he had singled out as the sire of the Barkley horse empire he dreamed of. And the gift was being made to the man he had fought only a few weeks before and vowed never to accept. Victoria's eyes were shining with tears of pride and love as she smiled at the dark-haired cowboy. He tousled Heath's hair and drank the last bit of coffee in his younger brother's cup as he roared, "COME ON, BOY! TIME'S A WASTIN'!"

Heath got up and followed Nick out the door. The sun hit both their eyes as they walked together to the stables, where Jim was waiting with Charger. Heath looked at the stables briefly, then at Nick.

"Well, boy? What are you waitin' for. See if you like him!"

The dark cowboy grinned at his brother as the blond approached the stallion. Petting him gently, Heath took a deep breath. Taking the reins from Jim, he mounted the horse.

"Now, that's a sight to see."

The words came from behind Nick. John Farmer, one of the hands, was standing there, hands on his hips, watching Heath put Charger through his paces.

"And what does that mean?" Nick growled.

"Oh, nothin'; nothin' at all. Just a sight to see that purebred stallion bein' rode, that's all."

With a brief frown, Nick transferred his attention back to Heath and Charger. Already, the two seemed to fit. But that wasn't surprising, considering Heath's rapport with any animal. Seemed to Nick that Heath got along with animals more easily than with people. Shaking his head, he walked toward Coco and shouted, "LET'S GET SOME WORK DONE AROUND HERE!"

The hands quickly went to their tasks. Nick and Heath rode out; as Heath started to turn north, Nick stopped him.

"What's wrong, Nick?"

"Nothin's wrong, boy. I just need you with me today. Got too much to do, and I need a strong back to help me get it done."

Heath looked at his brother for a minute.

"Thought you wanted me to follow up on those strays."

"I decided to send Jim up there. You're coming with me to Sky Meadows. Boy, we've got water problems, and we need to figure them out. Now let's git!"

With that, Nick began the hard ride to Sky Meadows. Heath gritted his teeth and with jaw set, followed the rambunctious cowboy. They worked together all morning without stopping. Nick being Nick, he had an opinion to share about everything they saw; Heath listened and said next to nothing. The drawn look gradually disappeared as they rode lines. When they reached the line shack, Nick stopped and dismounted.

"Gotta eat, boy! Let's see what there is for food inside."

Heath dismounted. Making sure Charger and Coco had water and good grass to graze, he followed Nick into the shack to find him stabbing a can of beans with his knife. Slowly, the younger man walked to the table.

"Yup. Beans for lunch. Nothin' better than Nick's beans." The cowboy continued to talk as the blond took two plates off the shelf and found forks. They ate, or rather Nick ate and Heath played with his food. After lunch, he started to take the plates outside to clean them.

"Here, I'll do that. You go get the horses."

Nick took the plates to the stream. When he came back, he saw Heath petting Charger. He chuckled. With almost unbelievable speed, Heath whirled, his hand on his gun. As he saw his brother, he relaxed and turned back to the horses. Shaking his head, Nick walked back into the shack. "Coiled tighter than ever. When he snaps . . . " muttered the dark-haired cowboy.

That afternoon, the brothers rode fence lines together. They found a bad break and as they worked, sweat poured down their faces. Nick removed his shirt, but Heath stubbornly clung to his until even he couldn't stand the heat any longer. As he took off the drenched garment, Nick caught sight of his back. The scars made him freeze.

"Heath! Your back--what happened?"

"Whip."

"Who? Where?"

The cold blue gaze caught his. Nick waited for an answer. Finally, Heath mumbled a word. When he realized Nick hadn't heard, he said again, "Carterson."

Compassion and understanding lit Nick's face. As Heath looked at him, he saw his own pain reflected in his brother's eyes. Something stirred within him, but his demons caused him to withdraw again. He turned back to his work and drove himself mercilessly the rest of the day, refusing all Nick's offers of conversation and companionship.

As they rode in that evening, Nick continued his monologue, discussing the plans for the next day. At the gates, Heath stopped. Nick reined in, waiting to see what was wrong. Heath took a deep breath and moved on. It seemed to Nick that as they entered the stables, Heath was tighter than ever before. Currying their horses, suddenly the blond man spoke.

"Nick, just how long you plannin' to ride herd on me?"

"Boy, what are you talking about?"

"Nick, you could have taken anyone with you. There's a reason you want me to be with you, and I want to know what it is and how long you're gonna play this togetherness game."

"GAME! WHAT DO Y0U MEAN, GAME? FOR YOUR INFORMATION, I'M TRYING TO KEEP YOU ALIVE UNTIL . . . " Nick broke off as he realized his impetuous tongue had gone too far.

"Until we find out who killed Buffalo Gal? And what if we don't? You aimin' to fence me in for the rest of my natural life? Well, big brother, I reckon I've got somethin' to say about that. I've taken care of myself since I can remember. You don't need to be with me every minute."

"Killed Buffalo Gal? Heath, we don't know . . ."

"Don't we?"

With that comment, the blond man put Charger in his stall for the night and walked outside. Splashing his face and hands with water, he wondered why he just didn't get back on his horse and ride out, away from all these people who kept pushing at him. Sighing, he shook his head and said, "Stupid, Heath. Maybe you're just stupid."

"I hardly think so," came a voice behind him. "Seems that a stupid man wouldn't have the life you have, ridin' that big, purebred horse, livin' in that fancy house with all the rich people, just like you was one of 'em. Yeah, I guess you're smarter than the average guy for sure."

John Farmer didn't see it coming. Nick's punch landed so hard that he was almost knocked out. As he crawled to his knees, shaking his head, he heard the cowboy growl. "You're out, Farmer. You're done. Pick up your pay and get."

"Nick, I don't--"

"Shut up, Heath. No one talks like that to a Barkley."

With a contemptuous laugh, the fallen hand got to his feet. "Reckon I wasn't talkin' to a real Barkley, now was I? Reckon I was just talkin' to some saloon gal's mistake."

This time, it was Heath who attacked. Heath who drove his fists into Farmer, Heath who pounded Farmer's head on the ground. It was Heath who fought until he had Farmer's throat in his hands, Heath who squeezed until Farmer couldn't breathe. Nick and two other men pulled him off. Still raging, Heath blindly hit anyone who tried to restrain him. Jarrod ran out to see what was happening. He joined Nick in shouting Heath's name. Finally, the blond stopped fighting. Nick nodded to the men who were holding him. Out of breath, they released their grip but stood warily by, watching this new member of the family.

"Heath, let's go in the house," Jarrod said.

Heath shook his head no as he stared at Farmer. As the hand stirred, he looked up at the blond with fear in his eyes. Slowly he got to his feet; his breath whistling, he allowed himself to be helped back to the bunkhouse.

"Farmer."

The man turned.

"Don't ever let me see you again." With that, Heath consented to walk with Nick and Jarrod to the house. Nick shook his head in disbelief at what he had seen. As Heath walked slowly up the stairs, his older brothers stood watching him.

"Jarrod, I've never seen anything like it. It was like one minute he was just standing there, and the next minute, he was a killing machine. If the hands hadn't been there, I couldn't have pulled him off."

"Well, Nick, he's got a lot of years of hate built up in him."

"More than you know, Jarrod. He was in Carterson."

"That hellhole? Why, he's hardly old enough to have seen the war!" Jarrod replied.

"Well, Pappy, he did. And he's got the scars on his back to prove he was there. And another thing: he's not gonna ride easy with me working all the time with him. He's already made that clear."

"I think I'll ride over to Winters' place tomorrow. Maybe he and I can talk this through. Nick, are you sure that this was no accident?"

"As sure as I can possibly be. Even if I'm wrong, Heath thinks the same as I do. He let that slip today. And I say again, if he finds out that we're right, and if he finds out who did it, you'll be defendin' that boy for murder."

"Surely you're exaggerating, Nicholas!" came the voice of their mother as she descended the stairs. Taking his arm and leading him to the living room, she continued: "Now, what has happened?"

As the story unfolded, she grew more concerned about the matter. "So Heath is convinced as well?"

"It sure sounded like that to me, Mother. You know, it's crazy. There for a while, he was loosening up, growing calmer. Now it seems that he's just getting more and more tense, and after I saw him with Farmer, I'm afraid that he'll really explode one day."

"Well, Brother Nick, perhaps this explosion took some of the tension away. You're right, though; it does seem as if Heath is not settling in well. We'll just have to ride this one through. He's got a lot to deal with, and perhaps he's feeling overwhelmed."

Supper was a constrained meal. Afterwards, Nick and Jarrod insisted that Heath play a game of billiards with them. Heath paid little attention to the game and played listlessly. Nick grew more and more irritated with him. Finally, the explosion came: "BOY, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?"

"Nicholas!" came his mother's instant reprimand.

"No, ma'am. It's all right. He's got a right to ask that," Heath replied.

"Heath, we're all trying here to -- "

"Jarrod, I know that. And I know that it can't be easy. Maybe it's all me; maybe it's not. But if there ever was a group of people who tried, it would be you all!"

Not sure of what Heath meant by what amounted to an outburst from him, Nick simply stared at his younger brother. Jarrod's concerned face relaxed into a smile as he watched Heath fiddle with his shirt cuff. The young man stood by the fireplace and stared into its empty depths as his hand rotated the button on the sleeve. When it came off, he jumped as Jarrod laughed.

"I could have won a bet on that happening! Heath, did anyone ever tell you that you're murder on shirt buttons?"

A slight smile tweaked the corners of the younger man's lips as he held the button in his hands. "Yeah. Mama told me that a lot." His head snapped up and his face reddened as he remembered where he was.

"Heath, Nick tells me you agree with him that your pony's broken leg wasn't an accident. Will you tell me why?" Victoria probed.

Her two older sons stared at her in shock. Wasn't this the same woman who had urged them to give him time to work things through on his own? Now, here she was, pushing him to talk in front of all of them! As Heath stared at Victoria, his hand went back to his shirt sleeve. Finding no button, he methodically began to fold the sleeve and smooth each fold.

"Heath? We want to help; we want to support you. But if you don't talk to us, we'll never be able to reach the truth."

"Guess you're right," he muttered.

Seizing the opportunity, Jarrod moved in for some answers. As he probed the young man, he became more and more lawyer-like, until Heath flared up: "I got no evidence! I just know she wouldn't have fallen like that! And there's enough men who hate me . . . "

He stopped and concentrated on smoothing his shirt sleeve again. A long silence was finally broken as he said, "Guess I figured that Farmer hated me enough to do it. Reckon if he didn't, he does now."

"How did you know Farmer felt the way he does?" Jarrod answered.

"How do you know when a witness is telling the truth, Jarrod? Some things you just--you just know. I can smell the hate a mile off."

"Do you think Arthur Winters had anything to do with it?" asked Jarrod.

A look of genuine surprise passed fleetingly over Heath's face. He thought for a minute and then shook his head. "No, I never gave him a thought. Him, he just hates me because I was born in shame; his kind really believes that I'm the devil's seed. But I don't think he'd hurt a horse just because I rode it. Now, hurting me: that's a different story."

"But you understand why Nick thinks it's important for you not to be alone for a few days until this is all settled?" asked Victoria.

"Yes, Moth--ma'am, I do." As the slip of the tongue came, all eyes came to rest on Victoria and Heath. "Sorry," he muttered.

"I'm not. That brings up a question I was hoping to address soon. You have no way of knowing how much I hate being called ma'am!"

Both of the older men laughed knowingly. "That's right, Heath. She'll shoot you herself if you keep on calling her that," Nick teased.

"Heath, you almost called me Mother, didn't you?"

The young man turned back to look into the fireplace. Back went his hand to his shirt sleeve. Finally, he nodded.

"It would be my honor for you to consider using that name for me," she said softly. "I know that you loved your mother very much, and I wish I had some way of letting you know how much I respect that love. But you're part of this family now, and that means you're a very important part of me, also."

"Heath, when Mother talks like that, we all listen. What's more, we want you to know that we agree with her." As Jarrod spoke, Heath watched the lawyer's face and was satisfied with his sincerity.

Even Nick was silent as he watched the inner struggle of the man before him. A part of him raged at the thought of this man calling Victoria mother, but there was another part of him which recognized how selfish that attitude was. When they all found out that Tom Barkley had not known about Heath, the anger Nick had felt began to subside, and he began to recognize that Heath was not responsible for his birth. The more he worked with Heath, the more he respected him. As he came out of his reverie, he saw that Heath was looking directly at him. There was a question on his face. Suddenly Nick realized that Heath's decision depended directly on what the dark cowboy did or said next.

"Well now, Heath, I'd have to agree with Jarrod. Mother--well, she thinks being called ma'am makes her ready for a rocker on the porch!"

Heath nodded. A big milestone was reached that night as Heath took another step into family life.

For the next few days, Nick and Heath worked together at everything that needed to be done. Nick grew to respect this young man not only for his work abilities, but also for his skill with animals. It didn't seem to matter to Heath whether he was helping a laboring mare foal successfully or looking at one of Audra's stray cats. His gentleness and understanding caused the animal to trust him completely.

The subject of the Modoc was avoided as much as possible. Nick and Jarrod continued to do what they could to investigate, but finally they decided that if it had not been an accident Farmer was the one to blame. Jim, the foreman, told them that Farmer had gone to work on Winters' spread, and Heath agreed not to go near that part of their property until things calmed down a bit. Some of the men still did not accept him as a "true" Barkley, but Heath seemed calmer and even resigned to the fact that he would have to fight a longer, tougher battle if he wanted that acceptance.

Audra's activities at the orphanage seemed to intrigue Heath. One day, he volunteered to take her there with some supplies she had collected. When they arrived, Audra saw a new side of Heath, a gentle, almost playful side. He quickly made friends with most of the children, but Jake followed him everywhere. As Audra watched, the cowboy gently picked up the little boy and carried him over to the wagon, where he showed him the harness on the horses and set him on one of the big beasts. The boy reached over and took Heath's hat; Heath took it back and plopped it on Jake's head and adjusted it to the correct angle.

Patiently, he showed Jake each piece of the harness and took him through each step of how to hook it to the wagon. As Audra finished her tasks, she came out to see Heath kneeling in front of Jake, talking to him as if the little boy was the only person in the world. The cowboy's face was filled with laughter as the two conversed on some topic that seemed very important. When they finished, Heath reached out his hand and shook Jake's.

On the way back, Audra pondered this side of Heath. She had heard the stories of his violent attack on Farmer. It was hard to reconcile this gentle, patient man with the hate-filled, angry person that the men and Nick talked about.

"Thank you for taking me, Heath. It means a lot to the children to have a man around."

"No problem. I'll go whenever you want me to."

"Even when Nick wants you somewhere else?" she teased.

A grin spread slowly across Heath's face and then he gave in to laughter. "Well, Audra, I guess that would be kinda fun to find out, wouldn't it? But count on me for any help I can give you. Those children are great!"

As the wagon drew closer to the ranch, Audra told Heath about Jake. The boy had been orphaned early in life; his uncle had taken him in. No one knew that the uncle had been very abusive to Jake, but when the uncle died, they learned the truth. Now, Jake was at the orphanage, and while that wasn't an ideal place for a child, it was certainly better than what he had known before.

"Heath? Can I ask you a question?"

Heath gave Audra his lopsided smile and nodded.

"Why do you mind so much that Nick doesn't want you to be alone right now?"

Silent for a few moments, Heath gathered his thoughts. "Well, it's kind of like this, Audra. Have you ever seen a wild stallion?"

Audra nodded, frowning in confusion.

"That stallion runs free, and he has no one to answer to. He's king, and if he wants to leave and go somewhere else, there aren't any fences in his world. So when he becomes a captive, he fights the boundaries--the fences--with all of his strength."

"But what does that have to do with you? You came here, Heath. I'm glad you did, but no one captured you and made you come. Why is it so hard for you?"

"Guess it's because I'm like that stallion, Audra. Any horse taken off the range will live longer and probably be safer. But the horse needs time to learn the boundaries before he'll accept the truth. Reckon I did things backwards. When I found out about your--our--father, well, I was so filled with hate that I didn't think through what I was wanting. So when I asked to be part of the family, I didn't know what that meant."

"So you're saying that being part of the family seems like those fences?"

"Yeah. I guess that's it, all right."

"But you know that the fences are there out of love?"

Heath glanced down at her lovely face, still frowning in concern. He tapped the tip of her nose and smiled. "I think I do, Audra, I think I do."

The next day was Sunday. While leaving the church, Mildred Winters paused to speak with Victoria. As they chatted, Heath walked by with Nick and Audra. Mrs. Winters put her hand to her head and swayed. She almost fell, but Heath caught her. Winters was quick to take her from his hands, and his glare told all the Barkleys that if it hadn't been for the fact they were on church ground, he would have attacked Heath again.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I guess the heat is more than I can handle right now. Please forgive me, Mr. Barkley." Mrs. Winters looked up at the handsome cowboy with innocent eyes as her husband held her arm.

"No problem, ma'am. Glad you're all right." Heath tipped his hat and turned to go to Charger, doing his best to defuse Mr. Winters' anger by leaving the scene immediately. Victoria checked to see that Mildred was really all right and went to the buggy.

After a few more days, Nick finally released his hold on Heath and allowed him to work alone at times. He noticed how much he missed the blond when they took separate paths. No matter what he talked about, Heath listened. Nick had never had such an audience before!

One of the regular duties Heath took over was driving in to pick up supplies and feed. He usually did this on Wednesdays. Two weeks after the incident at church, Heath had just finished loading the wagon in front of the store. As he backed up, he bumped into someone; turning, he saw Farmer's face scowling at him. The black rage he had felt before began to flare and he tensed his muscles, waiting for Farmer to say one thing to incite his anger to a physical response. Instead, Farmer backed away. When he was safe, he said loudly, "It ain't over yet, MISTER Barkley! One day you won't be so high and mighty; just you wait and see."

Heath barely restrained himself, but he remembered the fuss the family had made before. Weighing the probability of going back to twenty-four hour companionship with Nick vs. fighting Farmer again, he chose to walk away. As he did, Farmer sniggered and called out to his friends who were watching, "See what I mean? Old Barkley's colt done come out of the woods, but he's not even man enough to stand up for himself."

Heath turned back. He walked over to where Farmer leaned against the post. "If I ever hear you talk to me or about me like that again, you won't live to see the light of tomorrow."

He stared into Farmer's eyes until the shorter cowhand began to wilt. Turning, Heath started to walk away. The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked caused him to freeze in his steps. With a speed that seemed unbelievable to those who watched, Heath whirled. The next thing Farmer knew was that there was a knife in the post by his head. It was so close that Farmer could feel the cold steel as it quivered from the impact. Without breaking eye contact with the cowering Farmer, Heath walked back and took out the knife. He turned again and walked into the saloon.

"Did you see that? He coulda killed you!"

Murmurs of agreement went up from those who had seen the show. As Sheriff Fred Madden walked by and listened to the story, no one mentioned the provocation Heath had received; no one mentioned Farmer's gun. Fred walked over to Jarrod's office and talked to him for a long time about controlling this new brother of his. Jarrod agreed to talk to Heath about the episode and about self-control.

On the way home, Heath thought long and hard about the incident. In his mind, it was settled. Farmer had tried him; he had answered. There was no need to talk about it, but he was beginning to realize that he was in a family that wouldn't accept not knowing. He shook his head in wonder as he thought of Victoria glaring at him should she find out. "Oh, well, nobody that was there works at the ranch. Reckon this one won't go far." With that thought, he chose to keep his peace. It was one of the worst decisions he would ever make.

Supper was subdued that night. Jarrod dreaded talking to Heath and had hoped that the younger man would bring up the topic himself. But Heath seemed oblivious to the fact that he had threatened a man's life that day. In fact, he was talking animatedly with Audra about a trip to the orphanage on Saturday. When Jarrod took Heath into the study that night and asked him about the incident, Heath sighed in exasperation.

"Heath, I'm just trying to protect you--"

"Lawyer, don't put fences on me!" flared the blond. "I didn't do anything wrong!" And that was all he would say. Jarrod was equally angry, but he realized that when Heath decided not to talk, there was nothing to do but to wait it out. The lawyer fought with himself as he wondered whether the reason Heath wasn't talking was because he had attacked Farmer without provocation. He shook those disloyal thoughts away, but they kept returning.

That night, Heath couldn't sleep. As he went downstairs to the living room, he kept seeing the lack of faith in Jarrod's eyes. Sitting by the fireplace, he stared into its depths, seeing episode after episode in his life where he had done wrong. "Stupid, Heath. You're stupid. He probably didn't mean he believed the sheriff. But there you go, clammin' up again, not trustin' anyone." He was so caught up in his self-condemning reverie that he did not hear Victoria approach until her hand touched his shoulder. Heath froze with the touch.

"When your father had something to work out, he spent a lot of time down here. It seemed to be his favorite place," she said as she settled down beside him.

Heath said nothing, but he moved over to give her more room. Satisfied with the welcome, she braved another topic.

"Jarrod told me about what happened today in town. But all he had was Sheriff Madden's view, and he felt there might be another side to the story."

Heath looked at Victoria. All the pain and misery in his eyes made her heart break. She reached out to touch him. Like a skittish colt, he shied from her touch, but then he calmed down. She carefully laid a hand on his shoulder and held his face with the other.

"Heath, no one in this house would ever believe that you would just throw a knife at someone for no reason. And from what Nick has told me about your ability with that knife, I have a feeling that you placed it just where you wanted it. Am I right?"

A smile began in Heath's eyes. Mutely, he nodded.

"Where did you learn to handle a knife that well?" she asked gently.

"Growin' up in a mining camp gives you lots of opportunities to learn. Oh, not book learnin', not things that matter. But you learn lots of ways to kill--or you don't survive."

"What did Farmer say to you?"

"Doesn't matter. What matters is that I didn't kill him."

"But you wanted to."

"Yes, Mother, I did."

"What stopped you?"

"Guess it was wantin' to come back."

"I don't understand, Heath."

Heath moved restlessly. His hands rose in the air, encompassing the house and wordlessly expressing his feelings. "I wanted to come back here, to be . . . "

"To be part of this family?"