Nick, Audra, and the other men rode confidently for a while. Gradually, however, the signs that had marked the trail began to dwindle and finally disappeared altogether. Nick called a halt.

"You men know this territory better than I do. How many places do you think he can hide?"

"Mr. Barkley, this mountain is honeycombed with old mine shafts, caves, and such. We could all look for years and go right by the one place that he's in."

Another man spoke up. "Sir, it looks to me as if we'd better go back and wait for the rest of the men. I'm thinking we'll get more done if we work on foot from now on."

"Probably you're right. All right, let's turn back."

Audra looked at Nick in dismay. It sounded to her as if her brother was giving up. Riding up to his side, she asked, "Nick? How far back are we going?"

"Back to the place where we found the bodies, Audra. Bentell and his men should be there by now, I'd think. Do you want to go back to the camp? I'll send a couple of men with you."

"No, Nick, I want to stay." Without comment, the brother Audra had always believed to be invincible nodded.

As they rode back to the appointed place, Audra found herself beginning to wonder if they would ever find Heath. If Nick was defeated, what chance did they have?

Martha Bentell was confused about her strange visitor late that Friday afternoon. She had seldom met anyone so charming, but his insistence that Victoria Barkley would be coming had her concerned. She smiled politely and made superficial conversation, but she found herself wishing that Matt was there to help her. Somehow, the stranger's charm made her feel more uncomfortable.

Martha smiled nervously at her surprise guest.

"I'm so sorry that there was a misunderstanding about Mrs. Barkley's presence here. I just can't imagine who would have told you . . . " Her voice died off as her eyes caught the hypnotic stare of the white-haired stranger.

He smiled at her. "No need to worry, Mrs. Bentell. I quite understand. And from what you have said, is there a need to be concerned for Mrs. Barkley's son?"

"I'm afraid so. He was on his way up to the camp, and he seems to have vanished. The men searched yesterday and are still out today. My husband is on his way to meet Mr. Nick Barkley. He feels it's important to bring everyone back to the camp and see if any of the men have seen anything to give us hope."

"How terrible! I'm sure that this is a very distressing time for the family and for you. And here I am, just taking up more of your time. Please forgive me, Mrs. Bentell." The deep voice of the stranger compelled Martha to look directly at him. His eyes were strangely bright as he stared at the woman.

Tearing her eyes away, she looked down and pleated her skirt with a nervous hand. "Oh, not at all, Mr. . . . er; I'm sorry! I've forgotten your name!"

"No need to worry, Mrs. Bentell. If you would be so kind as to loan me a pen and a piece of paper, I'll just leave a note for Mrs. Barkley; perhaps you would see that she receives it?"

"Oh, of course!" Relieved, the woman smiled at her guest, who wrote something brief, folded it, put it in the envelope she had provided, and handed it back to her.

"There! I'll just get out of your way." He took Martha's hand and stared directly at her. "Please believe me, madame, when I say that I feel there is someone who can find the young man; someone quite near. All will be solved soon."

Martha stared after her guest as he departed. "Why, how strange," she murmured as echoes of laughter came back to her.

Bentell met up with Nick as anticipated. They hotly argued the merits of returning back to the camp or staying out, but finally Nick gave in. Audra followed the men, wondering why Nick seemed so defeated.

Dismounting after reaching the camp, Bentell gathered all the men who had returned. Each section assigned had been searched; no one had found a sign other than Nick's crew. Nick stood silently, waiting. Audra wanted to go to him, to connect with the brother she had depended on all her life to solve her problems, but the desolate look on his face defeated her. She went in to help Martha finish preparing the meal, but she ended up crying in the woman's arms. Audra had never been so tired, and she had never felt such fear.

The decision was made to start fresh in the morning, with men who knew the area of the mountain where the two murdered men had been found leading the parties. Nick and Audra did their best to respond to Martha's polite questions and vague encouragements, but each was lost in another world. As they sat at the table, they heard more horses coming. Rising to look out the window, Matt turned quickly to Nick. "It's your brother and Mrs. Barkley, Nick!"

Nick jumped up and ran outside. Audra was close behind. Their faces were full of hope as they raced outside, only to be devastated by Jarrod's relating of the news they had. Victoria seemed abstracted, almost vague, as she tried to respond to Nick's impatient questions.

"Nick, that's all we know for now! We were hoping that you knew something here," Jarrod finally snapped.

"I'm sorry, Pappy. I've just got my mind on finding Heath, and I rode you too hard."

Jarrod nodded as he guided Audra and Victoria inside.

"Jarrod, what do you think he meant when he wrote that there would be more information at the camp?"

"Audra, if I knew, I'd be acting on that information."

"Oh, Mrs. Barkley! With all the fuss, I forgot. The strangest thing happened today." Martha Bentell's sweet voice caused the family to look at her expectantly. "While I was waiting for the men to return, a stranger stopped by. He said he was an old friend of yours and had heard that you would be at the camp today."

"What did he look like?" Victoria's sharp question caught the innocent woman off guard.

"Why, he was very charming. He was well-dressed. His voice were so unusual." Martha's voice died off as she realized she was the center of attention.

"Did he give you his name, Mrs. Bentell?"

"No, he didn't. That was one of the strangest things about his visit. But he did leave this note for you, Mrs. Barkley."

Nick took the note from her hands. At a nod from Jarrod, he ripped it open. As the two men read the words, a sick expression came over the lawyer's face.

"Well, Jarrod? What is it?" Victoria's impatience could be held in no longer. She seized the note and read it. "Oh, no!"

Audra finally took the note and read it aloud.

"Victoria,

The Scottish mongrel will be no more. Soon he will be dealt with, and you can live as you were meant to live. On the fifth day, I will take you, and only you, to where the remains are kept. Until then, I remain your faithful servant.

P.S.: I warn you; if you seek me before I am ready, his suffering will increase. It will be your choice."

Victoria sat, staring blankly at nothing.

"Mother?" "Yes, Audra?"

"He doesn't think that you'll go with him alone, does he?"

"He doesn't think that, Audra. He knows I will go with him." All her children surrounded her as they began to argue.

Alone still, Heath tried to rally his courage. "Come on, Heath. This is stupid. You gotta pay attention to the important thing here. Stop thinkin' about all the things you can't handle now. You don't know if you're blind, but it's for sure you're not dead yet. Not . . . dead . . . yet.

"As long as you're not dead yet, you gotta plan. You gotta think of a way out of here. Had a chance when he left your arm free, but you didn't take it. Now, just stop feelin' sorry for yourself. All that's wrong is a busted ankle and a collarbone. Maybe some ribs. Cold here, but you've been colder. Got some cuts and some bruises. Been hurt worse.

"How long you been here, Heath? Seems like a year; can't be, though. Keep talkin', boy. Hate it when Nick calls me that and here I go doin' it. Why you doin' such a stupid thing?

"Why is this happenin' to you? Now, think about the important thing . . .what's that? Can't remember just now. Can't remember . . . "

His soliloquy was broken off by a harsh bout of coughing. As the paroxysm subsided, he heard the voice he dreaded yet was beginning to long to hear.

"Are you ill?"

"No."

Silence came. Heath waited for the voice to begin; he waited for the sound of the words that had consumed his mind for so long. Nothing came.

"Are you there?"

Silence.

"Where do you go when you leave me? Why are you doing this? Why! Why?"

The cowboy's head fell back to the ground as the laughter swirled around him. The knife began its familiar path over his chest. It paused in the center of the man's torso; Heath felt the pressure as the point began to press into his flesh. Blood began to trickle as the pressure deepened. He held his breath, waiting for the pressure to stop.

"Are you frightened?"

"Yes."

"Good. Very good. You are learning to be honest. Why are you frightened?"

It was silly. Heath knew that. He couldn't see, but he still turned his head so his eyes would not face his captor.

The knife penetrated deeper. "Why are you frightened?"

"Because I think you're going to kill me."

The knife bit sharply as it sliced down his side. The blood was warm as it came but quickly grew cold.

"How can I kill what no longer lives?"

"I still live."

"Only in form. You have no life, you have no useful purpose. Do you want some water?"

Heath said nothing. He felt his head being lifted, felt the water jug go to his lips. The bitter taste warned him. He spat out the fluid in his mouth; he fought with all his strength to keep his head turned away. But his tormentor won.

As the pressure on his chest began and the nausea grew, Heath braced himself. When the visions began, he waited for the laughter. And it came.

This time, he saw his sister. Her lovely face smiled at him; then her eyes filled with shock and fear. He watched as she was beaten; he saw them cut her face to ribbons. He heard her pleading with him to stop them; he heard her tell him that he was to blame. The voice swirled in and out of his nightmare, telling him that he was at fault for his sister's agony. He tried to run, but he was held fast. He tried to resist, but he could not move. As the whispers consumed his mind, he began to believe what they said.

Victoria remained adamant as her children tried to dissuade her from even considering being alone with Michael Wyatt. No matter what argument they brought up, she was determined to do what she could to save Heath. Even Jarrod's cool logic, trying to get her to see that she had no way of overpowering such a man, did not reach her. In defeat, the lawyer raised his hands in mock surrender.

Nick had been strangely silent for the last part of the argument. As the voiced stopped, he asked Bentell to get out the maps of the area again.

"Nick? What are you hoping to see?"

"Well now, Jarrod, I'm thinking that maybe we've gone about this search the wrong way altogether."

"Nick, there aren't too many ways to look for a man other than to do what we've done."

"That's right, but it's easy to hide a man in the mountains. But it's not as easy to hide a horse, now is it?"

Everyone stared at him. "Just what do you mean?"

"I mean Charger. If Wyatt killed him, where would he put him? And if he's still alive, he's a sight easier to see than a six foot man.You can't tell me that you can hide a horse in a bunch of trees or a cave and get away with it, not with as many other horses as we've had out these last two days. And if Wyatt was here this afternoon, I think he put those bodies on that trail to take us on a wild goose chase."

"Nick, why do you think that?"

"Audra, the man's crazy, right? And from what Mother says and the wires Jarrod got, he enjoys watching his victims hurt." Nick looked triumphantly at the room. As his siblings stared back at him, he snorted impatiently.

"Look, Heath's not the only victim here."

"Nick!"

"I know, Audra, I know. He's a lot worse off than we are, I'm sure, but the point is--"

Nick never got to finish his point because Jarrod jumped in.

'You mean the point is that we're all suffering, and if Wyatt's pleasure is in watching his victims suffer, he can't be that far away, right?"

"Exactly what I mean, Pappy. We've focused on where Heath was taken and where the bodies were. I'm thinkin' we need to look a little closer to home."

The brothers grew intent as they listened to Bentell explain what was around the camp. By morning, their plans were made. At dawn, the loggers were divided into crews again. Each one had a specific responsibility.

Nick and Jarrod were together. Waiting for the crews to disperse, they looked over at the cabin. When Victoria and Audra came outside, Jarrod looked at his younger brother.

"You argue with them, Pappy. I can't win."

"Maybe they're right, Nick. I think they'd be safer with us than here, don't you?"

Nick grunted as he began to saddle the women's mounts. "Looks to me as if it doesn't matter too much, now does it?" With that, the family rode out of the camp, following the path Martha's visitor had taken the day before.

Around ten o'clock, Nick called a halt. As they dismounted and stretched their muscles, he looked again at his map.

"Looks to me as if this line of timber breaks right about here, Jarrod, and there might be a path to the north."

Audra wandered toward the timber line. As she walked, her eye caught a glimpse of something fluttering to her left. Going closer to see what it was, she froze for a moment, then screamed. "Nick! Nick!"

Jarrod, Nick, and Victoria ran to her. They all stopped, frozen by the sight of a bloody knife piercing the tree trunk. The knife was holding a piece of paper.

Nick stalked to the tree and tore out the knife. He read the note and tossed it to Jarrod.

"Victoria, follow me. I await you. Michael."

Silently, the four went to their horses and began the last leg of their journey.

Heath fought to find reality. Some part of him remained dimly aware that the visions were drug-induced, but the voice had held him captive for so long that he couldn't resist succumbing to its message. As he cried out, the voice reinforced the visions; over and over again, he heard himself condemned to a world of brokenness, a world of sorrow.

No longer was he Heath Barkley; he didn't deserve to have a name. He had broken his captor's rule; the price had been exacted. Audra would die. The tormentor left him after whispering, "They have chosen to add to your suffering, but soon, it will be over. The next voice you hear will be that of your sister's; you will know then that I tell the truth."

The Barkleys rode silently along the path. Nick led, then Audra, then Victoria, and last came Jarrod. Audra kept her eyes fixed on her older brother's back. Victoria seemed to be lost in her thoughts. As Jarrod pondered what would come, he realized that Nick was calling a halt.

Reining his horse in, he dismounted and walked up to where his brother was standing.

"Well, Pappy, look at this."

They faced a clearing. To the left was a tent, but in the center of the clearing was a table, beautifully set. No people were visible.

Nick drew his gun. With a quick warning to Jarrod to protect the women, he strode into the clearing. His spurs jingled as he approached the tent. Looking inside, he saw no one. Jarrod brought the women into the clearing with him and went to the table as Nick walked over to his mother and sister.

"Now, isn't this nice! Place cards and everything. Let's see: Victoria, Jarrod, Nick. Well, Audra, it looks as if you aren't invited."

"Jarrod, that doesn't make sense. If he knew we were coming, he knew that Audra would be with us."

"Nick, we're not dealing with a normal mind here. Who knows what his reasoning is?"

"I just want to get my hands on him so that . . . "

"So that what, my fine young friend? Victoria, it's been too long."

The voice startled them all. No one had seen him approaching. The white-haired man walked over to the table where the family stood. He reached out his hand toward Victoria, who backed away with her eyes wide and her face filled with disgust.

"Mr. Michael Wyatt, I presume?" Jarrod protectively put an arm around his mother's shoulders.

"And you would be Jarrod?"

"That's right. This is my brother Nick and my sister Audra. I believe you already know our brother Heath." The lawyer's urbane manner frustrated Nick, who pushed him aside and walked toward the stranger.

"Where is my brother?"

"Such emotion! Victoria, this one seems to be a bit more impulsive than the others. Has he always been this way?"

Nick growled and reached out to grab the man. Wyatt struck so fast that the motion was blurred. Nick stood staring at the blood dripping from his hand. Audra moved to his side and began to wrap it with her handkerchief.

The voice became silky and soft. "You will find, my impetuous young friend, that it is better to think before you act. And should you have any thoughts about threatening me again, may I remind you that I hold all the cards in this game?"

"We're not playing a game, Mister."

"Oh, but we are. And I stand in the position of game master."

"You would be referring to knowledge you have that we lack, I assume?" Jarrod was doing his best to appear bland and calm.

"JARROD! HE'S REFERRING TO--"

Jarrod smoothly cut off Nick's shouted speech. "Believe me, Nick, I know. Now settle down."

"Good advice. You, too, learn quickly."

"Too?"

"Yes. It seems to run in the family. Would you care for a glass of wine?"

"No. We don't want wine. We don't want to talk. We want my son. Where is Heath?"

"Victoria! I'm disappointed in you. First, you must be aware of the fact that you disobeyed my warning. There are consequences, of course. But no matter. Things just had to be . . . accelerated. Now, my dear, do sit down."

The voice was hypnotic. The tone varied from a mild scolding to menace and then back to a social concern for a lady's welfare.

Victoria stood still, looking with a mixture of fear and loathing at the man before her. Jarrod moved over and escorted her to a seat at the table. He stood behind her, with his hands on her shoulders.

"Now, sir. Am I correct in assuming that you have information which would be of great value to my family?"

"That, sir, is a distinct possibility. Again, may I interest you in some wine?"

"Thank you. Perhaps a bit later. Forgive my abrupt approach, Mr. Wyatt, but again I would like to discover what you would deem to be necessary before we are given the information we want so much."

"Jarrod, stop pussyfootin' around. He knows what we want."

Ignoring Nick's outburst, Wyatt smiled at Jarrod. The lawyer had confronted many a hostile witness in his time, but he had never felt such instantaneous repulsion before. He did his best to remain impassive, but Victoria felt his instinctive recoil. Her hand went swiftly to his and squeezed it lovingly.

"We all have our own agenda, Jarrod."

"Agreed. And our agenda does not involve the loss of our brother."

Laughter came from the man. "Then we are agreed; his temporary absence does not mean that you will never see him again!"

"Then I ask again. What would you deem to be necessary before we see Heath again?"

"Patience. All will be revealed. Now, however, is a time for celebration."

"Celebration?" Audra's shocked tone spoke for them all. "How can you even think of the word? We only want one thing and it doesn't involve a celebration!"

"Miss Barkley, what you want and what I want do not have to be at odds. I understand that you might have experienced some slight anxiety, but I assure you, all is in control."

"In control!" Nick pulled his gun as he walked to the man's chair. Leaning over him, he growled, "You'll see control in a minute. Now, tell us where he is!"

"And would you really pull the trigger?" Nick's eyes dropped first as he realized what Wyatt meant. Without him, it was quite possible that Heath would never be found. He uncocked his gun and stood, defeated.

"Intelligence in all three. You must be quite proud, Victoria."

"They are all four intelligent, and I am equally proud of all four." The petite woman's voice was even and calm. "And I think you should know, Michael, that I do not plan to leave here without all four. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Oh, perfectly, my dear! But then, you always did make your desires plain, didn't you?"

"Then, Michael, if we understand each other, then tell me what you want! What will it take to get Heath back? Tell me!" Her voice rose to a commanding pitch as she ended her statement.

"My, my. We are in a hurry. I was going to deal with all this tomorrow. But no matter."

In one swift movement he rose and grabbed Audra. The knife which had slashed through Nick's palm appeared at her throat. Both Jarrod and Nick started forward but froze as they heard their sister's gasp of pain.

"I require this one for a few hours. She will not be harmed if you obey. Jarrod, there are saddlebags in the tent; perhaps you would be so kind as to get them. But remember this as you go. Your mother has no doubt told you that I do not like disobedience. This lovely young girl's beauty is in your hands."

Jarrod brought the saddlebags back to the table without protest. He waited for instructions.

"Now then. Take both your gun and your brother's and put them in the saddlebags. If there are any more arms, I recommend you practice wisdom and put them all there. Very good. Thank you. Now, did you find rope in the saddlebags? Ah, good. Please be so kind as to tie your brother's hands and those of your mother's. Be sure they're good and tight. Now, give the rope and the saddlebags to Miss Audra here, but don't come too close. Thank you! Nicely done."

"Miss Audra, please hold up the saddlebags where I can reach them. Thank you."

Still smiling, Wyatt reached in and took out Nick's gun. Cocking it, he lowered the knife from Audra's throat and aimed the gun at Victoria.

"If you would be so kind, my dear, as to tie your brother's hands for me?"

Audra glared at him with hatred. She turned back to Jarrod with a look of despair. He nodded reassuringly to her.

"Wyatt, if you think you need another hostage, why don't you take me and leave Audra with our mother? Surely that would be agreeable."

"How noble. But your missing family member has been promised a special treat, and I never break my promises. So, unfortunately, it will have to be Miss Audra who attends me. I assure you, sir, that she will remain unharmed as long as you follow my will."

Jarrod stared into the man's eyes. With a sigh of defeat, he turned his back to Audra so that she could tie his hands. Crying, she followed the man's instructions.

"Now, Miss Audra, we're going to walk away from here. Victoria, I will return soon. I suggest you make yourself comfortable. Dexter will be here soon. Perhaps you will find your conversation with him edifying. Au revoir, my dear."

Nick, Jarrod, and Victoria stared as Wyatt took Audra into the trees. Nick quickly walked to where Jarrod stood and the two began to work on freeing themselves of their bonds.

Heath stirred. The coughing and the muscle cramps began in earnest. He wondered just how long he had been in the grip of the drug-induced nightmare. Trying to find a way to relax his muscles, the cowboy pushed upward with his feet. Instantly, he realized that a broken ankle wouldn't support him.

His thoughts raged uncontrollably. Had it been a dream? Was Audra really hurt or was it part of the nightmares from the drugs? He shook his head sluggishly. The lassitude was creeping back through his limbs, but his mind was racing. "Had to be a dream; couldn't be true. Had to be that stuff he poured into me. Had to be. You can't hear her now; she's not here. You're all alone. Gonna be alone for a while, maybe die alone." ,/P.

No matter how he tried to reason, there was a part of him that kept turning to the memory of the visions of Audra screaming, of the knife he had come to know so well turned on her face. He kept hearing the whisper, "The next voice you hear will be that of your sister's; you will know then that I tell the truth."

"Can't be real. You're hearin' your voice now, Heath. Just need to stay calm here and think. Just because you can't see doesn't mean she's here and you don't know it. You'd know, Heath. Stay calm now. Does no good to get spooked like this."

The influence of the drugs, the pain, the disorientation, the blindness, the chains, the cold, and the hunger fought his reasoning. All he could remember was the voice; any other thought seemed artificial compared to the reality it had whispered into his heart. Fear had become his friend; pain was a welcome factor to reassure him. He found himself longing for the return of his tormentor so that he would know for sure that he really lived.

"Just remember, Heath. You gotta make it through this. Don't remember why, but you gotta live."

As he lay on the ground, muttering disjointed phrases, he had no idea of how he appeared. His face and torso were covered in blood and bruises; his arms were cut and blood dripped from them whenever he stretched to gain relief from the shackles. Mouth swollen, the once white blindfold now a muddy red from the dirt and the blood, he was a parody of the handsome young man who had raced the dawn just five days earlier.

Talking to himself again, he heard a rustle of cloth. He raised his head and turned his face toward the direction of the sound, only to hear a well-known voice cry out.

"Heath! Oh, my God! Heath! What has he done to you?"

Audra's voice rang through his head. Her words made little sense to him; all he remembered was the voice promising him that he would know the truth. And he surrendered.

Tied to a post, Audra could not reach her brother. Crying hysterically, she begged Wyatt to let her free so that she could care for him. With a careless backhand, he slapped her face.

"Quiet! I would speak with him now."

He went across to the cowboy and lifted his shoulders. Dragging him into a sitting position, he took the knife and drew it across Heath's throat in a parody of a caress. The cowboy moved his head slightly and moaned. Wyatt put his head by the young man's ear.

"And do you believe me now?"

Audra heard her brother speak in a flat, toneless voice. "Yes."

"Have I won?"

"Yes."

"Why did I win?"

"I lost the battle."

"And can you ever win again?"

"No."

The knife bit into the cowboy's chest. As Wyatt applied pressure, blood began to well up from the puncture. Audra cried out, but Heath made no move.

"Are you frightened?"

"No."

"Do you want to die?"

"Yes."

"Then I have won. Here. Drink."

He poured the drink down Heath's throat. The captive made no protest. The sadistic soliloquy of victory went on, reminding Heath that he had failed. By slipping away into the trance, he had sealed Audra's fate. He described the awful things that were happening to her, dwelling on each cut, each sadistic move to mutilate her face. As she wept and pleaded for Wyatt to stop, her voice reinforced what the drug was causing Heath to believe. The hallucinations began, and he had no reason to fight.

Audra watched her brother with terror-filled eyes. She strained at the rope which held her captive. She watched Wyatt describe what was happening to her and watched the knife bite into Heath's chest and back with each mention of a new mutilation. She begged Heath not to listen to him, but the cowboy slipped deeper and deeper into his hallucinations. Watching his breathing change, listening to his cries begging Wyatt to stop hurting her, she realized that Heath believed what their captor was saying.

"That's enough, Wyatt."

Nick Barkley stood over Wyatt, his hand extended for the knife. Heath heard nothing except Audra's screams and believed the visions only he could see. Wyatt rose slowly and smiled at Nick.

"Very good. Very good indeed. I take it you met Dexter?"

"He came. And he gave me this."

Nick aimed a gun at Wyatt. He cocked it slowly.

"Now, drop the knife and get away from my brother."

"Heath! Oh, dear God! Heath!"

Victoria's scream and her swift movement to her helpless son's side caused Nick's attention to waver just for a second. That was enough; catlike, Wyatt pounced. In normal circumstances, Nick would have been more than a match for him, but his insanity gave him phenomenal strength.

Jarrod joined the battle, fighting with Nick to overpower the madman.

None of the three gave heed to the scene before them. Audra's screams still echoed in Heath's mind and deafened him to any other sound. Victoria was frantically trying to stop his bleeding, but in his drug-induced frenzy, he could not recognize her touch. He fought her off, but she continually returned.

Nick and Jarrod began to subdue Wyatt. The gun dropped. Wyatt fell to his knees. Nick bent to pull him up, but Wyatt feinted to the left. As Nick and Jarrod followed the deceptive mood, the madman snatched the gun and turned it on them.

His laughter filled the cave-like room. Heath cried out, begging the laughter to stop, begging the mockery to leave. With one smooth motion, Wyatt turned the gun and shot. Laughing to the end, the madman crumpled to his knees, then fell prone at the feet of the two oldest Barkleys.

Nick bent to check his pulse. "He's dead. The SOB's dead! He killed himself."

"Good. Let's take care of Heath."

Jarrod quickly untied Audra as Nick turned to Heath. The dark-haired cowboy tried to calm his brother, but he was too deep in his nightmare to hear. Both men knelt to hold him down, but he threw them off.

"Jarrod, what are we gonna do?"

Panting and nursing his leg where Heath had managed to kick him, the lawyer shook his head.

"We've got to get him calmed down enough so that we can take care of him."

"Heath! Heath, it's Audra. I'm all right; I'm not hurt. Heath, calm down!"

The girl had no idea that her voice would act as a catalyst for Heath's nightmares to return in full force. No matter how they tried, they could not calm him.

"Nick, we're going to have to knock him out."

"Jarrod, look at him! There's got to be something else."

"Nick, I know. But we've got to get those chains off him, and he won't even let us get close. There's no way we're going to be able to carry him out of here unless he's under control. We've got to knock him out!"

"He's right, Nick. It's the only way." Victoria's voice was filled with tears as she stood again. "He doesn't recognize who we are. We've got to get him out of here and to a doctor, now!"

"All right." Jarrod moved toward Heath as if to volunteer, but Nick shook his head.

"Little brother, I'm really sorry." His fist shot out and connected with Heath's chin. The blond's head snapped back and hit the post that his shackles were attached to. With a whimper, his frantic actions subsided and he lay still.

"And now, Brother Nick, let's get those chains off of him."

"Got a spare key?"

"No, but I'll bet our friend over here has one." Jarrod suited words to action as he bent over Wyatt's body, searching. "Aha! I believe these will be of benefit?"

Nick grinned absently at the lawyer's tone of victory. "Pappy, just because you found the keys doesn't mean we've won the battle here. He could come to any time, you know."

"Then I suggest we hurry, Nicholas." Victoria was back in control.

As the key turned in Heath's shackles, he moaned and moved his head. Nick hurriedly unlocked the chain that had been fastened around the cowboy's waist. Bending over his brother, he picked him up with a grunt.

"Want some help?"

"Just get Mother and Audra out of here. I'll take care of him." Bearing his burden tenderly, the tall cowboy led the way out of the mine shaft and into the daylight Heath had longed to see.

"How long before Dexter gets to Bentell and Bentell gets a wagon here?" Nick asked as he gently laid Heath down on the grass. His hands were slippery with blood.

Victoria slipped in beside him and knelt by her son. She started to remove the blindfold, but Jarrod stayed her hand.

"Mother, I'm not sure that's a good idea. If he's been kept this way since sometime on Tuesday, his eyes are going to hurt when they're exposed to light. Maybe we should wait on that until we have him someplace where we have a little more control."

"All right, Jarrod. You and Nick help me turn him so I can see what that monster did to his back." As the men complied, Victoria moaned and began crying helplessly. Audra gasped and shut her eyes for a moment.

"What is it, Nick?"

"The SOB branded him! He sliced his back to ribbons and put the Barkley brand on his shoulder."

As Jarrod lay his brother back down, Heath began to fight the nightmares again. They watched helplessly as he curled into a fetal position, whimpering and crying. Disjointed phrases came to their ears, but they could not understand. Begging to see the light, the cowboy stayed in his darkness, and his family did not know how to help him.

Victoria gained control of herself quickly. "Jarrod, you and Audra go and get the canteens. We need to start washing these cuts. Nick, help me see what else is wrong."

The two bent over Heath's body. Nick ran experienced hands along the cowboy's legs. He cursed aloud when he came to the broken ankle. Gently removing the filthy sock, he beheld the swollen, discolored joint.

Victoria watched as he silently laid his brother's leg back down on the ground.

"Mother? We have the water." Audra's voice brought them out of their angry thoughts.

"Thank you, dear. Now, let me see . . . " Victoria searched her pocket for a handkerchief.

"I think I have something that would be more helpful, Mother, if Nick and Jarrod would turn their backs for

a moment." Audra's dimpled smile caused both men to respond with smiles of their own. Audra removed her blouse and chemise; replacing the blouse, she called out, "All right. You can turn around now. And we need your strong hands to tear this up."

Jarrod bowed to his sister and began the task of ripping the white garment in pieces. Victoria took the first swatch and soaked it with water. Laying the cloth on Heath's chest, she began the long task of cleaning the wounds. Heath tried to swat her away, but Nick held him down.

"Nick? There seems to be a problem here, too." Victoria moved so that Nick could check out Heath's left arm.

"Looks like a collarbone's broken, too. I don't know about the ribs, but judging from the bruises, I'm saying it's better than even money that some of them are gone."

Jarrod knelt on the other side of his brother's body and reached out a hand for a cloth. Victoria handed it to him and he began to wash Heath's back. Audra knelt at his head and tried to soothe him, but her voice seemed to upset him more. Jarrod stood and held out his hand to his sister.

"Honey, let's go and talk where Heath can't hear you. Can you tell me about what happened in there?"

Audra was silent for a few minutes. She lowered her head and watched her tears plop one by one on her brother's matted, blood-soaked hair. Looking up, she nodded and accepted her brother's hand. As they walked away, she looked back at her brother and began to cry again.

"Jarrod, it was awful. I've never heard anything like what he said to Heath."

"Did Heath respond at all?"

"At first, when that monster brought me there, I thought Heath was talking and understanding. I was frightened when I saw him so hurt and so helpless, and I guess I screamed. Then it seemed like Heath just wasn't there anymore. Oh, I know that doesn't make sense, but that awful man took his knife and asked Heath if he wanted to die, and Heath said yes! But it wasn't like his voice, Jarrod; it was like he was just saying words.

"Then the man made him drink something and started talking to him about what he was doing to me. I kept screaming to Heath that he was lying, that I wasn't being hurt, but that voice just kept on talking, and every time he came up with some new way to hurt me, he would cut Heath again with the knife.

"I don't know what happened then. It seemed like Heath started having trouble breathing, and then he started acting like he was really scared. He started yelling out crazy things. I kept trying to get to him, but I couldn't. Oh, Jarrod, it was so awful!"

Jarrod's face grew more and more serious as he listened to his sister

tell of just one hour of the hell Heath had endured for days. He

encouraged Audra to tell more of her time in the mine shaft. With each revelation, his face grew harder and colder. He continued to hold her in his arms, but his jaw was set and his eyes were like stone. When Audra finally finished, he leaned over and gently kissed his sister's cheek.

"I'm sorry, Honey. You should never have had to go through all this."

"Jarrod, don't say that! If I hadn't come, Heath might have been killed! He's alive, and we're going to help him get better. I just don't think I can stand his not wanting to be around me!"

A new burst of tears came as Audra buried her face in Jarrod's coat. The lawyer comforted her as best he could. Looking over at his unconscious brother, he watched Victoria talking to Nick. He was washing Heath's face and whispering softly to his little brother as he worked.

As Nick cleaned the caked blood and dirt off of Heath's forehead, the bruises stood out even more plainly. One ugly cut ran up into his scalp. Bending over the wounded man, Nick

carefully began to clean the rest of his face, only to find multiple cuts and bruises. His beard stubble only highlighted the awful swelling and damage the abuse had done.

"Jarrod, are you sure we should leave the blindfold on?" Nick called out to Jarrod and beckoned him to his side. Jarrod put his finger to his lips to remind Audra not to talk and walked back to the gory scene.

"No, Nick, I'm not too sure of anything. But he seems not to be understanding

that he's free now, and I'm just afraid that he will suffer more pain if we let light get to his eyes after being in the dark for almost five days."

Nick moved restlessly. "Jarrod, he doesn't seem to be responding to us at all. It's like he's seeing things that aren't there, yet with that blindfold,

he obviously can't see. It doesn't make sense. He's tougher than anyone I've ever met, but it seems like he's just not connecting. Listen to what he's saying. It's crazy talk!"

The three paused in their work and listened to Heath's cries for help. He was begging for the laughter to stop and asking Audra to forgive him. His hoarse voice begged for mercy for his sister and pleaded to be allowed to give his life for her.

"Mother, can you spare Nick for a moment? I'd like him to listen while Audra tells me again what Heath was like when Wyatt first brought you in the mine shaft."

Victoria nodded absently. Her hands never stilled, and she continued to murmur soft words of reassurance to her youngest son. Nick stood, straightened his back, and walked over to the trees with his siblings.

"Jarrod, I told you. He was lying there, all broken and bleeding, but he seemed calm. He was talking, but it was quiet and--I don't know just how to say this, but it was like--Heath. Then I screamed, and it was as if he gave up. I thought he'd know I was there and realize you would be on the way, but he told that monster he wanted to die!"

The lawyer's blue eyes were intent as he listened to his sister. "Go on, Honey. What happened next?"

"Jarrod, I told you! Wyatt made him drink something, and then he started rubbing that awful knife over his throat and chest and face and then Heath started acting like he couldn't breathe, and from then on, he's been like this!"

"Do you think it's possible that what Wyatt gave him had something in it to make him like this?"

"Nick, I don't know very much about all this, but I'm beginning to think it's very likely. If so, in a way it might be good. When the stuff wears off, I'll bet

Heath calms down." Jarrod's optimistic statement seemed to cheer Audra, but Nick's

face remained serious as he watched his mother care for her youngest son.

"What happened after I left the clearing, Jarrod?"

"Well, Nick and I tried to untie our hands. You did a very nice job of not tying mine tightly, but old Butterfingers there had some problems getting your knots undone. Just as we were getting free, up came Dexter. He was riding one horse and leading Charger. Your calm brother over there walked over to him, pulled him off his horse, and knocked him out."

Nick frowned at Jarrod, who smiled at him and moved his head toward Audra. With a nod of understanding, the two men walked their sister back to Heath. Nick began to help Victoria again as Jarrod talked.

"Needless to say, that wasn't the greatest way to get him to talk, but while we waited for him to come to, we searched his pockets and saddlebags and came up with a few very interesting items. One was a map of how to get to the clearing from the main road; the other was instructions from Wyatt to Dexter."

"Yeah. It seems that Dexter was the trustee in charge of the Wyatt fortune. He evidently thought that Wyatt was in that institution for life, so he was making himself a nice life with the Wyatt money. Of course, that madman convinced the doctor that he was fully reformed and wouldn't go around killing brothers anymore, so he got out."

Jarrod added, "I think I'll look into that doctor's financial state both before and after he dismissed Wyatt. Anyway, to make a long story short, Wyatt convinced Dexter that he was recovered and that embezzling money is not a way to stay in

a trusted position. He blackmailed the man into helping him with this whole plan. He'll be taken to jail and held for trial, but I don't know how much we can pin on him.

Dexter is no saint, but he was shocked to learn the whole truth about what Wyatt had done."

"Even though we tried to tell him at the hotel. I told you he was a snake!"

Victoria's comment reassured Jarrod about her state of mind. Since Heath had been brought out of that dreadful hole, she had been quiet, and the lawyer felt grave concern over her response to her son's condition. With all his heart, he wished she had not seen Heath lying helplessly in chains, but it seemed she was bouncing back from the horrible memory.

"Nick, we need to keep him as warm as possible. He's starting to shiver."

"I'll get the blankets from the bedrolls, Mother. Should have thought of that myself. Sorry." Giving Heath's shoulder a pat, the tall man stood and walked to the horses. Audra ran to help him, glad to be of use again.

As Heath stayed in his nightmares, they fought to keep him warm and safe, but he would not respond. Waiting for the wagon was frustrating, but all agreed that they could never get Heath on a horse. Finally, the rattle and squeak of the wagon signaled that help had arrived. Martha had packed water and bandages; Bentell had placed a mattress, pillows, and blankets in the back.

Carefully, his two older brothers put Heath in the wagon. They positioned the pillows to keep his head elevated. Victoria sat in the back with him, trying to keep him still. He still fought the visions, still begged Audra to forgive him, still pleaded for the laughter to stop so he could die.

Bentell had brought some extra men. They went into the mine shaft to retrieve Wyatt's body. As Nick and Jarrod straightened from gently placing their brother in the wagon and covering him, they turned and watched as the men tied the corpse over a horse. Bentell shivered as he caught a glimpse of their faces.

Slowly, the wagon brought the wounded man and his family back to the logging camp. There was no doctor there, but it was clear that Heath could travel no more. Nick and Jarrod refused help and

carried him into the house; Martha led them to the bedroom where he usually stayed. The brothers cut his jeans off his body and gently washed off the accumulated filth. They covered him with soft blankets, but it was a major battle to keep him still and warm.

Victoria was later to refer to those ensuing hours as the longest night. Heath fought his visions and could not be comforted. Audra couldn't help because the sound of her

voice sent him into attacks of panic and fear. No one could reach him, and because of his frenzy, it was impossible to keep him from opening his many wounds. The bandages became damp with blood as he twisted and turned to escape from what only he could see.

He begged to be allowed to see; he pleaded for one moment of light. The family decided to try removing the blindfold, but the minute Heath felt the scissors slide under the cloth, he screamed with fear and began to fight again. Helplessly, Victoria looked up at Jarrod, who reached out and took the scissors from her.

"Leave it on for now, Mother. Let's just keep him covered and warm."

As Heath continued to fight, the lawyer took Nick outside to discuss his concerns.

"Jarrod, you can't be serious! We can't do that to him!"

"Nick, I hate it as much as you do. But as wild as he is, he's hurting himself with every move. If we don't keep him from moving, he may do something to himself that can't be fixed!"

Nick looked at Jarrod. His expression was enough to make the lawyer's heart break. Finally, he nodded. "All right, Pappy. Let's do it. But you'd better start thinkin' about how to help that boy deal with all this. I'm thinking he's got a lot of talkin' to do, and it's easier to move a mountain than it is to get him to open his mouth." Together they turned and went back into the room.

"Jarrod Thomas Barkley, I won't let you do that to him. You must be crazy to suggest tying him down. He was chained and unable to move for who knows how long! No one will do that to him again!" Victoria's eyes flashed fire as she stood protectively over the bed of her youngest son.

"Mother, I feel the same way. But look at him!"

Reluctantly, Victoria took a moment to step back and view the scene objectively. She knew Heath had at least two broken bones and possibly more. His flailing and thrashing

was keeping his wounds open so that he would not stop bleeding. Slowly, she nodded her head.

"All right, Jarrod, but we won't tie him down. We'll swaddle him."

"What?" Nick's jaw dropped as he heard his mother.

"Did you say what I thought you said?" Jarrod asked.

Impatiently, Victoria nodded. Now that she had thought of it, she wanted it done. It was the perfect solution. Heath would stay warm and still, he wouldn't be able to move and hurt himself more, and she could be close to him and comfort him. With a quick explanation, she got ready to teach her two sons the art of swaddling.

With Victoria directing,

Nick and Jarrod moved Heath so that they could get a blanket underneath him. They turned him on his left side. Victoria reached over his body and held his left arm to his chest as Nick pulled the blanket over his body, under his right arm, and on to his back.

Keeping the blanket tight, they then turned Heath again. He fought them with fury, but the two men continued their task. As Jarrod pulled his right arm straight down, Victoria stopped them. She tucked her handkerchief into his hand to give him something to hold.

Over and over they soothed their brother, telling him what they were doing and why. When Jarrod had control of Heath's good arm, Nick wrapped the right part of the blanket across his body. The two men quickly turned Heath on his right side and Victoria pulled the end of the blanket tightly to the back. Finally, sweating and disheveled, they turned Heath

on his back. Victoria showed them how

to take a second blanket and put it tightly over him, tucking the sides under the mattress. Checking to make sure his feet were out so that he couldn't hurt his ankle any more, she took a sheet and spread it over his lower body.

Heath's frenzied strength was amazing, but the swaddle worked. The second blanket used his own weight to hold him tight. Each time he moved he actually tightened his restraint. The only battle was to keep him from trying to kick the constraining fabric away; finally, Victoria agreed to allow Nick to take a third blanket and strap it across his brother's thighs so that he couldn't hurt his leg more by kicking. Each one prayed that Heath would not remember this new confinement as an addition to the cruelty he had suffered in the mine shaft.

As dawn came, Heath finally began to calm. Spells of

shivering were interspersed with moans of pain, but the screams subsided. He stopped fighting the swaddling that held him so tightly. He stopped responding at all.

The doctor arrived and confirmed Jarrod's wisdom in restraining his brother. Quickly, he cleaned the wounds and stitched Heath's deeper cuts. After taping his ribs, he aligned the broken collarbone and bandaged Heath's left arm tightly across his chest. The ankle was more serious. Setting the break was a long and arduous task. With the splints finally in place,

the doctor warned the family that the man might never walk normally again.

"You just keep him alive, Doc, and we'll worry about how he walks later." Nick's statement was echoed by his family.

Turning his attention to Heath's face, the doctor instructed Jarrod to move the lamp so that it did not hit the sick man's face directly.

When Heath felt the cold metal of the scissors under the blindfold, he shuddered but did not fight. The hateful thing adhered to his face because of the dried blood. As they peeled the blindfold back, they saw the magnitude of the injuries to his face for the first time. Audra cried; even Jarrod's eyes were suspiciously wet. Nick's face could have been set in stone, but his hands were gentle as he took the cloths from the doctor's hands, washed Heath's face, and cleaned his eyes.

"Heath? You can open your eyes now. You're all right, little brother. It's safe here."

Heath's eyes fluttered open and immediately shut in pain as the light hit. The doctor moved the lamp from side to side, and gradually they saw slits of blue begin to appear. Smiling at each other in relief, the family began to relax. Victoria took Heath's hand in hers and squeezed it gently.

"Sweetheart, would you like some water?"

The eyes opened. Heath looked at Victoria in wonder. He turned his head as if he would respond to his mother's question. Matt Bentell was standing there, offering Victoria a glass filled with water. Heath's eyes opened wide and stared at the man. For a moment, his blue gaze burned with emotion, then, as they watched, his body went limp and his eyes lost focus. He did not respond again.

That night, Jarrod decided to contact his friend, Paul Conrad, who practiced medicine in Boston. Paul was an outspoken proponent for better medical care for the men who faithfully served their country, and the lawyer figured he'd be the one to help him with what he needed to know. He wrote out a long wire and sent it, along with a message to Silas, with a rider when daylight came. Coming back into Heath's room, he saw that his brother was still withdrawn, still not responding. Victoria was dribbling water in his mouth and coaxing him to swallow it. Heath occasionally managed to get some down, but he choked if she gave him much at all.

She gratefully handed Jarrod the spoon and let him take over. As she walked out to the living room with the doctor, Jarrod heard her ask the question that was on all their minds.

"Doctor, when can we take him home?"

"Mrs. Barkley, I understand your desire to get him home, but he's been through a lot. How long was he held prisoner?"

"We don't know exactly, but probably from sometime Tuesday until late yesterday," replied Victoria.

"So for five days he's been--well, tortured, for want of a better word. He's obviously not been fed, he's in shock, and he's seriously injured physically. We're going to be lucky to avoid an infection, deep as those cuts are, especially the ones on his shoulder and chest.

Frankly,

I'm not sure that moving him is the best choice for his physical condition." The doctor hated to add that Heath's mental condition caused him to wonder if there would be any point in trying to save the man.

"Doctor, we have more to deal with than Heath's physical condition, and I think that he would respond better if he were in his own room and in his own home." Victoria's voice was pleading for the doctor to understand the urgent need to have Heath removed from any place that would remind him of Matt Bentell and Carterson.

"Well, let's just see if we can get him through the day. I have no idea what kind of drug he was given, but if it caused the reaction you say it did, we'll have to watch him carefully." With those words, the doctor went back to watch his patient.

The entire family was eager to get Heath out of the logging camp and back home. His reaction to Bentell had caused an awkward strain, to say the least. The silver-haired woman also believed that if Heath could just be home, she could nurse him back to physical and mental strength. She refused to accept any other outcome.

Heath's mental condition did not change. He gave no sign of knowing when anyone was with him and showed no response to pain. He would not respond when offered water or soup, but with constant, patient effort, they managed to get fluid down him. The doctor insisted that they continue this effort if there was to be any chance of Heath's surviving.

Besides their concern for his physical condition, even his survival, their gravest problems continued to be related to his mental condition. If at any time he heard Audra's voice, he would moan and begin to fight again. Victoria's swaddling protected him from more physical harm, but no one could protect him from what was going on in his mind.

Audra was devastated. While she loved all three of her brothers, her bond with Heath was special for many reasons. She enjoyed having a sibling whose coloring matched her own, but even more, Heath's clear enjoyment of time with her and his obvious relaxation in her presence had made her feel special, even honored. Now, the brother she had learned to cherish was not able to abide her presence. Jarrod and Nick tried to comfort her, but they were equally worried and not able to provide real solace. The only solution they saw was to send Audra back to the ranch to prepare things for Heath's arrival. She was annoyed when Nick insisted on two men he knew and trusted to accompany her, but her brother would not be dissuaded. Crying, she mounted her beloved brother's horse Charger and left the site.

After forty-eight hours with no change in Heath's responses, the doctor decided that Heath was physically stable enough to be moved, although he still had grave concerns. He had come to agree with Victoria, however, that it would be best to get him away from the logging camp and the presence of the man who had caused him to go into his strange withdrawal from reality.

Bentell had stayed away from the sick man's room since the moment Heath had blanked out, and he gladly readied the wagon and the horses. Before Heath was carried out, Bentell pulled Jarrod aside and talked to him for a long time.

"Do you really think that's necessary, Matt?"

"I don't know, Jarrod. But I do know that these military doctors are beginning to be able to help the men who were in POW camps. It seems that a lot of them still struggle with all that went on. If what I've read is true, then all this with that man Wyatt might have caused Heath to relive those times, and then, seeing me, well . . . " Bentell's voice died off as he looked down at the ground.

The guilt and shame on Bentell's face touched Jarrod's heart, but even the sophisticated lawyer felt awkward talking to Matt about Carterson and Heath's reactions.

A part of the lawyer wanted to take all his anger out on the man Heath's family had encouraged--no, ordered the cowboy to befriend.

He recognized that the anger he felt didn't make a lot of sense, but he didn't have time to figure it all out then. Awkwardly changing the subject, Jarrod confirmed that the rest of their horses would be taken down by competent riders.

The two men stood silently for a moment; Jarrod finally offered his hand and thanked Matt for all the help. The lawyer turned and walked into the house. Bentell stood there, alone. Martha came to stand beside him, but even she could not reach through his painful thoughts to find the man she loved.

Refusing any offers of help, Nick and Jarrod carefully placed Heath in the wagon.

Jarrod and Victoria sat in the back with Heath. Their job was to protect him from hurting himself while keeping his upper body elevated so that he could breathe easily. The man lay still, staring at things only he could see.

Victoria had nursed an unspoken hope that Heath would respond once he left the logging camp. Throughout the long ride, however, he refused to respond to any stimuli.

Nick drove more carefully than anyone had ever seen him, but even when the bumps were enough to cause the others to wince, Heath simply lay there.

They stopped frequently to check on Heath and to give him a rest. With each stop, they talked to him and begged him to eat and drink, but he never acknowledged their presence. They continued to get water down the sick man's throat, but he refused any food.

The long ride home had them all ready to drop with exhaustion. Heath seemed weaker and more withdrawn, if that was possible. Audra had prepared his room and had sent for Dr. Merar, who arrived almost simultaneously with the wagon. He supervised Heath's transfer from the wagon to his bedroom. Silas followed them all in. To everyone's surprise, the butler went over to Heath and gently stroked his hair.

"Heath? Son, Silas is here. You just relax now and rest; you're home now." The family was thrilled to see Heath's good hand reach out toward the voice of his beloved friend. Silas took the cowboy's hand and kept talking to him while the doctor checked him over.

After carefully examining the wounded man, he paused and rubbed his hand over his face.

"Victoria, this is a mighty sick boy you've got here. Some of those cuts are deep. That ankle is a bad break.

But that's not as bad as his state of mind."

"Howard, what can we do to reach him?" The petite woman's exhaustion was obvious, but the set of her jaw told her old friend that she would not give up as long as Heath breathed.

"Well, let's go downstairs and talk for a bit."

"Do you want me to sit with him, Mrs. Barkley?"

"That would be very kind, Silas. Thank you so much."

As they descended the stairs, Silas sat beside Heath's bed and began lightly stroking his still-matted hair.

"Son, don't reckon you're hearin' me just yet, but I'm gonna keep on talkin' to you. Heath, you gotta fight this. Lookin' at you shows how rough it was, but you can't give up. You've got too much to live for, Heath. Now listen to Old Silas here; ain't nothin' too hard when you give the good Lord His chance to help you. Just you relax now; you're safe at home, and me and your family, we're gonna take care of you."

The older man kept gently talking to Heath as he alternated between stroking his hair and holding his hand. Heath gave no response, but it seemed to Silas that his body began to relax, so the cowboy's friend continued his soft speaking to the wounded man as Dr. Merar talked with the family downstairs.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, CAN'T BE HELPED? THAT'S MY BROTHER UP THERE!"

"Nick, I know that. I'm just trying to tell you that there's something deeply wrong. Yes, he was terribly hurt, but Heath's tough. With care and careful nursing, I think he can shake off the physical problems. To do that, however, he has to want to live, and right now, he's not giving me any sign that he even knows who he is, let alone being up to such a fight."

"You sound like you're giving up, Howard."

"No, Jarrod, I'm not. But I have to go on what you've told me and what I see now. Unless we can get him to respond, I can't hold out much hope. Frankly, unless we can get him to start taking food and water, he won't last more than a day or two. It's amazing he handled the trip down here so well as it is."

The family sat silently, trying to come to grips with the thought that after fighting so long and hard to find Heath, he still might not recover. As the doctor looked at his friends, he sighed deeply and wondered if it would be better to ask them to move Heath to a hospital in San Francisco. If anyone had asked him what the injured man's chances for recovery were, he would have said there was no chance at all. He hated the thought of the man's death, but even more, he feared for the family if they were to lose the one they had only known for such a short time but had come to love so much.

"All right, Howard, what can we do for now?" Victoria's voice broke the somber spell that had fallen over the room.

"Well, first thing is to realize that Heath has some really special needs. He seemed to respond well to Silas. Do you think you could get someone here to help you so that Silas could spend more time with Heath?

He's going to need constant care, and we need somebody who's skilled at that kind of thing. Silas seemed more than willing. Want to see if Mrs Harmon is free? She's good with cleaning and cooking." The doctor looked up and saw Jarrod nodding his head.

"All right, Jarrod, will you take care of that? Now, let's see if we can get that boy to take some broth. He needs nourishment if he's going to overcome this, and it's obvious that he wasn't too well fed during his captivity. I'm going to go back on up to his room and check on how he's doing."

As the doctor returned to Heath's room, Victoria nodded and went to the kitchen. Heating some broth, she pondered how to get her son to respond. Once again, when she reached Heath's bedroom, Silas took the cup and spooned the broth into Heath's mouth. No amount of time seemed too much to the man who had spent so many early morning hours with Heath. Victoria smiled as Silas looked up at her.

"Mrs. Barkley? I'll be happy to stay here while you freshen up or even if you want to rest for a while. If that's all right, of course?"

"Oh, Silas, it's more than all right. You're one of his closest friends, and he needs you so badly right now." Tears welled once more in Victoria's eyes as she watched her son respond to Silas and wondered if he would ever respond to her again.

Mrs. Harmon came that night. By the end of the second day, the poor woman began to feel as if she were tripping over Barkleys whenever she turned around.

Each of them wanted to do anything possible to get the injured man to recognize them, so they were always coming up with ideas of things that would please Heath. She fought down her irritation as she worked. Grumbling, she muttered under her breath:

"Can't understand why they put so much effort into one of his kind. No account white trash, probably deserved whatever happened to him."

An icy voice interrupted her monologue. "Mrs. Harmon, would you come with me, please?" Jarrod stood behind her. She had always admired him because of his friendliness and good nature. Now she sucked in her breath as his cold stare cut through her.

She followed the lawyer up the stairs. As they walked into Heath's room, she beheld Victoria and Silas working to change the bandages. They had removed the old ones, and she saw the torn back, the Barkley brand cut into his shoulder, and the many bruises. As Victoria and Silas worked, they turned Heath on his back, and she saw the deep cuts in his chest and his battered face. Tears came to her eyes; horrified, she turned to run out of the room.

Jarrod allowed her to exit the room. He took her back downstairs. "Now, Mrs. Harmon, tell me, please, just what any human being could do to deserve what you saw in my brother's room."

"Oh, Mr. Barkley, I. . . I'm just so sorry. I didn't think; I was just talking."

"Mrs. Harmon, if you will get your things together, I'll have your pay ready. One of the hands will drive you home."

The woman knew she deserved to be dismissed, but the horrors she had seen upstairs were fresh in her mind.

"Mr. Barkley, begging your pardon and all, but I'd like to stay. No man deserves treatment like he--like your brother got, and no man deserves what I was saying to myself. I'd like to help, if I could."