Family Ties

Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

Heath watched, as the carriage pulled away leaving nothing but a trail of billowing dust behind. He scratched Charger’s neck until the carriage was but a speck on the vast horizon. Even then, he stood motionless for a long time his mind in turmoil. He felt like throwing his arms around Charger’s neck and crying as he had done when he was a little boy with his pony. That pony had been privy to all Heath’s dreams and disappointments. There had been many a time he had sobbed on that pony's shaggy neck in the privacy of the barn away from the prying eyes of the world; a world that treated him differently because he was a bastard.

He had grown up with that stigmatism all his life. He had thought to escape it when he left home at 16 to join the Army. There would be times when he thought he had buried it, only to have it resurrect itself. When he had finally found out who his father was, sought out the Barkleys and had been seemly accepted into the family, he thought his days of being an outcast where over. In the last three months, he had slowly begun to believe, truly believe he was an equal of his brothers. That was until Maria came along.

It was a bitter lesson to accept. But she had driven it home. Try as he might; he would never be an equal to his brother’s when it came to the Barkley name. Maria had shown him that when she chose her father and her family name over him. Heath knew if it were Jarrod or Nick, she would have chosen to stay. Hell, he thought, there would have been no issue in the first place. Nick and Jarrod were true Barkleys, not half-breed like himself.

Heath angrily swung up on Charger and spurred him towards the plains at a gallop. He urged the horse on faster and faster trying to out run his anger. Heath wasn’t paying much attention to where they were going and he jerked his head up in surprise when he heard the train whistle nearby. It was the 4:15; the train Maria was on, he thought bitterly; the train that was taking her away. The tracks were about 300 yards away to the east; ugly metal strips across the pristine valley floor.

Not quite knowing why, Heath headed Charger towards the tracks. The three-year-old bay flicked his ears at the noisy train but gamely headed in the direction his master commanded. Heath adjusted their course so they came in on angle to the train as it came around the bend in the tracks. As the train passed by them Heath positioned Charger to be parallel to the tracks and urged him faster. Charger snorted at the noisy, oddly scented beast and pinned his ears back in displeasure as they paced the train.

A flashback to three-months early crossed Heath’s mind. His valiant little Modoc had once beaten this train; he wondered if Charger had the courage. Had Heath stopped and thought about what he was doing, he would have known it was stupid. His Modoc had been an experienced cowpony not a skittish, half-broke three-year-old. But at the moment he really didn’t care and he urged the jittery horse on. Charger tried to shy sideways away from the belching monster but Heath held him firm.

Charger laid his ears even tighter against his head as he started to pull even with the train’s cars. He passed the first and second passenger cars of the train quickly.

Heath wondered if Maria was looking out the window and then angrily pushed that thought from his mind as he concentrated on controlling the horse. He reminded himself again this wasn’t the mature little cowpony with a big heart Heath had raced with last time. This was a 16-½ hand young gelding that was still wet behind the ears.

Heath leaned lower on Charger’s neck to cut down on the drag. He peered through the horses flowing black mane, judging their progress. They were abreast of the coal car and gaining on the engine. Heath moved as one with Charger, urging him on with his body and soul. The laboring horse pulled even with and then forged ahead of the train.

Heath knew he needed more distance if they hoped to make a clean crossing in front of the train. He pushed the tiring Charger harder. The gelding responded, pulling further ahead of the train. Heath took a tight hold, preparing himself to force the skittish horse to cross the rails. As they started to make the turn for the tracks, the engineer blew the train’s whistle. Its piercing shriek spooked Charger and Heath fought to get the panicked horse back under control. They were almost on the tracks with the train was bearing down on them. He gave Charger a desperate kick hoping to get a little more speed out of the floundering colt. The tired horse responded and bolted across the tracks with only yards to spare.

Heath looked back over his shoulder and shuddered at how close they had come to be an ornament on the front of the train. He was still watching the train when he felt Charger stumble and lose his balance. Heath was hurdled over the galloping horse’s shoulder, landing on the hard dirt and tumbling down a slight embankment.

Charger only slowed marginally, his immediate thought was to put as much distance between him and the metal monster as possible. Eventually, he slowed down and circled back to where his master lay on the dirt. He came to a stop a few feet away, his sides heaving.

Heath groaned as he rolled into a kneeling position. He took a quick inventory and decided nothing was broken. Bruised and battered yes, but otherwise intact. He cautiously climbed to his feet and looked at his pants. Damn, he thought. The left side had been ripped in the fall and his thigh was abraded. He didn’t care much about himself but he really liked this particular pair of jeans. He looked at his shirt. It was ruined too; the shoulder ripped open and the one sleeves torn were he had first hit the ground. His shoulder was very sore and he tried not to move it. He gingerly touched a hand to his cheek; it too stung from being ground into the dirt. Still, he was lucky and he shouldn’t be complaining over some torn clothes.

Heath slowly walked over to pat the bay colt’s face in way of an apology. He knew racing the train with this green horse was stupid but, well, he just wasn’t thinking so straight at the moment. He gathered the reins and swung on board, wincing a little as he settled into the saddle. He turned Charger’s head and started for home.

About a mile outside the ranch, Heath thought he felt Charger’s gait go uneven. He stopped the colt and dismounted. Heath ran a practiced hand over Charger’s legs stopping over his right cannon. It felt warm to the touch. He decided to walk Charger in the rest of the way. No sense taking any chances, or at least any more chances. Heath shook his head ruefully. Charger was too good a horse to ruin through stupidity; the type of stupidity he had already shown once today. Nick would have his head if he found out what Heath had done with the colt.

When they reached the stable, Heath put Charger away and found the liniment that would provide some relief to the inflamed area. He rubbed it in and bandaged the leg. Again, as a way of an apology, Heath picked up the currycomb and gave Charger a good grooming, paying particular attention to the areas he knew the horse liked rubbed. With his conscience a little eased, Heath gave Charger a final pat and headed to the house.

He felt mentally and physical drained as he entered through the front door. His abrasions were starting to sting, his shoulder ached, his heart was heavy from Maria’s rejection and his mind was a jumbled confusion. The only thing he wanted was a hot bath and a soft bed … though he wasn’t sure he even really cared about the bath. He entered the house heart, body and soul battered and wanting to be left alone.

Victoria and Jarrod were in the parlor having a drink before dinner, waiting for the rest of the family to put in an appearance. Jarrod looked up as the front door closed. Heath trudged in, heading right for the stairs, not paying them any notice.

Jarrod got up from his chair and moved to greet his younger brother. He slowed when he saw the condition of Heath’s clothes. "Heath, what happened?" he asked in surprise.

Victoria got out of her chair and joined her sons in the foyer when she heard the tone of Jarrod’s voice. She let out a little gasp when she saw Heath.

Heath didn’t stop walking but merely muttered "Fell off Charger," as he continued up the stairs.

"Are you alright?" Victoria asked her voice full of concern.

Heath climbed making some head motion that Victoria decided meant yes. Upon gaining the top, he entered his room and firmly shut the door leaving Jarrod and Victoria staring at an empty hallway.

"What was that all about?" Nick asked coming in from the kitchen.

Still staring at the shut bedroom door she answered Nick in a puzzled tone. "Heath came home. Said he got tossed from Charger."

"Tossed from Charger? That doesn’t sound right. He is too experienced a rider for that. Wonder what really happened?" Nick replied pouring himself a drink.

Victoria shrugged. "He wasn’t very communicative."

Nick glanced over at Jarrod who simply nodded to confirm what their Mother had said was indeed correct.

Nick shrugged. He’d simply wait until dinner and ask Heath himself.

When the family gathered around the table, one chair remained empty. Victoria decided against asking Silas to call Heath and excused herself. She knocked on Heath’s door but received no answer. She was in a quandary; she wanted to respect his privacy, yet she was also concerned he might be hurt more then he realized from the fall. She knocked again then gently turned the doorknob and entered his room.

The sight of Heath’s ripped pants and torn shirt greeted her eyes first; they were lying on a heap in the middle of the floor. She glanced towards the bed where she saw his still form sprawled amongst the sheets. Wanting to assure herself that he was sleeping and nothing direr, she moved closer to the bed. The sheet covered his lower body but she could see the abrasion on his left shoulder and cheek. They looked painful but not deep. She could hear his rhythmic breathing and decided he was truly sleeping. She turned to leave, overcoming her motherly urge to pick up the clothes up on the floor. She rejoined her family at dinner informing them that their other sibling was fine.

It was dark when he woke. He started to stretch and then halted as his roughed up skin protested. He contented himself with yawning instead. Reaching over, he adjusted the lamp to read the clock. It was a little after midnight he observed as his stomache let out a pitiful groan. Heath realized he was famished and decided to wander down stairs to the kitchen for something to eat. Since he never took that bath, he grabbed the ripped, dirty jeans from the floor and slid back into them. No sense getting a new pair dirty, he thought. He made his way down the back stairs to the kitchen.

Routing through the icebox, he came up with some cold beef. He sliced it and some bread, making himself two sandwiches. Not bothering with a plate, he dropped them on the table and went in search of a glass. Filling it with milk, he picked up the sandwiches and headed out into the dining room. He continued on to the living room, angling towards a chair by the fire, when he noticed the room was occupied. Victoria was dozing in a chair, book fallen carelessly across her lap. Heath turned to go.

"You don’t have to leave on my account," Victoria said opening her eyes.

Wanting to leave, but knowing it would be rude, Heath padded over to the chair near the fire and sat down. He placed the glass of milk and one of the sandwiches on the table. As he started to bite into the sandwich in his hand, he realized it was probably sloppy to not have put the food on a plate. He looked over at Victoria and grinned sheepishly. "Guess I forget the plate."

"Oh, I think that table will survive," she joshed him gently.

Heath nodded noncommittally and went back to devouring the sandwich. Victoria watched in silence. It appeared both Nick and Heath had inherited their father’s appetite.

Heath wondered about his manners again. Should he offer the other sandwich to her? Gesturing to the sandwich laying on the table, he asked "Would you like it?"

Victoria laughed. "No thanks, I had plenty at dinner which you missed. Are you feeling better? I went to check to make sure you were OK and found you sound asleep. Guess you needed sleep more than food, though watching you now, I’m not so sure."

Heath wasn’t sure how to take that remark. Was she scolding him for missing dinner, sympathizing with him for being tired, making fun of the way he was eating, or trying to get him to tell her what happened today? In the past, he always-found remaining silent was a good tactic. He employed it now as reached for the glass of milk.

She found this boys’ ability to remain silent highly annoying. She was trying to forge a bond with him and he seemed to be stonewalling her. She didn’t know if it was deliberate or habit. She thought in the last three-months she had made progress and a sort of mutual trust had grown between them. Now, she felt like they were back at square one. He had all his old barriers back up and wasn’t letting her through. She wondered what caused him to revert into his old patterns.

Heath reached for the second sandwich and started munching on it; eyes fixed on the fireplace. She sensed he wanted to leave or was hoping she would. Well, she didn’t plan to. Victoria decided to be blunt with him. It worked in the past to get him to open up.

"Maria left today. I saw you ride out this morning. I assume you went to see her off." She saw the tiny scowl that flickered across his face. She had been right.

"I’m sorry she felt her duty was to her family. I know you must be upset by her decision."

He shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat the sandwich.

"Oh Heath. You’re shutting me out again. Won’t you talk to me?" she pleaded.

Heath tossed the remains of the sandwich into the fire as he stood up.

"Maybe it’s just that I realized, no matter what, I’m never gonna be a true Barkley," he said bitterly talking as much to himself as her. "Can’t help wondering if it would have been better to not come here then to try to live up to a standard…. a standard I’m never gonna be able to achieve because I wasn’t born to it." He spun on his heels and left the room abruptly, leaving Victoria alone.

Heath addressed Nick as he slid into his chair the next morning at breakfast. "Still planning on branding those new calves in the North pasture today?"

"Ah-uh," Nick grunted as he helped himself to some more eggs.

"I don’t want to use Charger so guess I’ll try out that new filly Jack brought in, the chestnut with the white star. Whadya call her?" Heath asked.

"Jesse."

Heath nodded his head.

Victoria broke into the conversation. "Are you sure you feel up to branding calves Heath with that shoulder and on a newly broke horse?"

Heath looked over at Victoria and said sharply "I think I can judge whether or not I can handle a horse. And my shoulder is fine."

Jarrod could tell by the look on Victoria face that she was taken back at sharpness in Heath’s reply. "Heath, I think what Mother meant was if you weren’t feeling up to it, no one would blame you for taking it easy today."

Heath rounded on his brother. "I pull my own weight on this ranch, no more no less than the rest of you Barkley’s." He rose from his chair and threw his napkin on the table, "I managed to take care of myself for 24 years before I came here and I suspect I’m still capable of determining if I am fit to do a days work. Nick, I’ll see you out in the pasture." Heath strode out of the room.

"Who put a burr in his saddle blanket," Nick muttered as he finished his breakfast.

Jarrod was thinking about the odd turn of phrase that his brother used "rest of you Barkley’s". He wondered just what Heath had meant by that.

Nick knew his brother was still annoyed as they started branding the calves. He could also see his mother was right about Heath not being fit enough to work. His aim was off; missing as many calves as he lassoed. He also noticed his brother frequently wince in pain when he tried to bowl over the calves. A couple of times when he was supposed to be holding the calves on the ground, he let them get lose. Nick was finding Heath to be more of a hindrance than a help.

Damn, he thought as Heath let another calf escape. He is spooking the whole herd making them twice as hard to catch. Heath finally got his rope on the calf and brought him to the ground. However, he lost his grip again and when the calf bolted lose, it nearly trampled some men in its efforts to escape. Nick decided he had to put a stop to this before someone got hurt.

Nick called for a break and walked over to Heath as he mopped the sweat from his forehead. "Ya know, it seems to me that shoulder of yours must be bothering you some."

Heath glared at his brother. "It’s fine."

Nick tried again. "We’re almost finished here. If you want to head out, I think we can handle the rest."

"I said I’m fine," Heath growled.

Nick lost his patience. "Well, I say you’re not. You have been missing calves right and left all morning. So far no one has got hurt, but it gonna happen. Stop bein’ pig-headed and go rest that shoulder. Now git."

The two men stood toe to toe eyeing each other.

"What gives you the right to order me around Nick Barkley?" Heath asked in a cold tone.

"At the moment, common sense. You’re gonna hurt yourself or someone else and I won’t have that. Now get on that horse before I pick you up and put you there myself"

"I’d like to see you try big brother," Heath spat.

Nick couldn’t believe Heath’s behavior. His brother was trying to pick a fight with him. Well, Nick had no intentions of rising to the bait. He answered Heath coldly, yet calmly. "Get on that horse and go home."

Nick could see his brother clenching and unclenching his fists. He thought for a moment Heath was actually going to hit him. They stood there for a few more tense moments. Work around them had stopped and the only thing that could be heard was the locust buzzing in the trees. Finally, Heath spun around and headed for his horse. He jumped into the saddle and viciously whipped Jesse’s head around. Nick grimaced at the force Heath used on the green horse; it was unlike him to be cruel. Nick wondered what was a matter with his brother as he went back to work.

Heath had no intention of going back to the house where Victoria and Audra would surely question him. He had enough of people’s opinions about his health today

He headed Jesse towards a creek he had found a few weeks ago. It was a nice peaceful place, not often visited by others; a place where he could be alone. He tethered Jessie where she could reach the tender grass growing by the creek. He patted her on the neck and mentally apologized to her for being so rough. Seemed he was doing a lot of apologizing to horses these days.

He flopped down on the grass near the edge of the creek. Picking up a handful of pebbles, he forcefully tossed them into the creek one by one. When he got some of the anger out of his system, he relocated under a tree where he could lean back and think.

He’d been feeling unsettled recently. His mind wandered towards Maria again and her leaving. If she had rejected him outright when she first found out he was illegitimate, he could have dealt with that. But to say she loved him and then leave when her father objected to Heath’s heritage; that hurt. No matter what, he thought bitterly, he would never be more than half-Barkley in people’s eyes. Perhaps he had been naïve in thinking that finding his father was would solve all his problems. In actuality, it seemed to have added to them.

Growing up, the only person’s expectations he had to meet were his mother’s. He learned quickly as a boy not to care what others thought about him. Many in Strawberry had considered his mother to be a wicked, sinful woman and him the product of her sin. People assumed he would be a troublemaker and he often lived up to their expectations. There had been one of two people that had showed him kindness in Strawberry and if it had not been for them and his mother’s strong fortitude, Heath often wondered if his path in life would have been a darker one.

Problem was since he came to the ranch he had started to care again what people thought about him, the Barkley’s in particular. He wanted to live up to the high expectations of Jarrod, Nick and Victoria. He also wanted to be part of the family but it was a new thing for him and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

As a kid he was envious of those children who had two parents and other siblings. Many a night he lay there in bed as a boy and wished his father would come live with them. His ma could have more kids and he’d have a true family. To him, this was the perfect dream.

It was the destruction of that dream, which had caused him to run away and joined the Army at the age of 16. He came to realize that his "family dream" was foolish after Libby refused to marry him. After her rejection he decided it was time to leave and he went forth in the world to find a new dream. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew anything was better then remaining in Strawberry.

Living on his own since then had taught him a lot of hard lessons. Never trust anyone; someone you thought was your best friend could turn on you if the situation was right. The only person to depend on was yourself; others would let you down. Respect was earned. Money ruled all. The world was full of prejudice. Hell, being a bastard at times was nothing compared to what others had to face. And while there was a winner and loser in every battle, sometimes the winners lost more than the losers did.

Every job he held taught him something more about himself and the world, but none ever brought him happiness, contentment or peace with himself. That is why after a few months, he would pack his belongings and leave. He was forever looking for his elusive dream, not knowing what it was, but praying he would recognize it when he stumbled across it.

Then his mother died, and he had realized how alone he really was in this world. No matter where he had gone up to that point, he always knew he had a place to return. When she died, Heath felt like a piece of his soul was torn from his body. There was no one left to return to anymore; no one who loved him unconditionally like she had. Rachel and Hannah were always kind to him, but it wasn’t the same; they were his mother’s friends not his. His Uncle Matt and his Ma had the falling out over the incident years ago and hadn’t spoken since. If there had ever been any other relatives, they had long since moved away. No Heath had felt totally alone and lost after his mother’s death.

When he had learned that Tom Barkley was his father, came to the ranch and fought his way into the family, he thought he had finally found his elusive dream; that maybe he had a place where he could belong. But then Maria came along and her leaving brought back all his old fears. Perhaps her father was right when he said Heath had nothing to offer Maria; that he was only at the Barkley’s out of the kindness of Victoria heart.

He shook his head angrily. He didn’t belong here anymore then that stray bull amongst the pure bred heifers. It was time to take off the blinders he’d allowed himself to put on and face up to reality. It was time to move on.

"May I come in?"

Jarrod looked up from his desk. "Of course Mother. Judging by the look on your face, this is not a social call." Jarrod got up from his desk and joined his mother. Victoria settled herself into one of the armchairs while Jarrod perched on the arm of the one across from her. It didn’t take much of a detective to figure out what was bothering her. "It’s about Heath I take it."

Victoria laughed ruefully. "My son the lawyer. All right, yes it is about Heath. Jarrod, I’m worried about him. It is like he is …well … pulling away from this family."

Victoria fidgeted in her chair, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle out of her dress. "I have been doing the best I know how to make him a part of this family … ever since the day of the shoot out with the railroad. I have tried to treat him the same as I would you, Nick, Audra or Eugene; I tried to treat him as my own son."

Victoria’s voice took on a slightly bitter tone as she continued. "And I thought, over these last three months, I had succeed; that he and I had built a bond; that he felt this was his home, and we were his family."

Jarrod walked over and took his mother’s hands in his own. "Mother, you have done a wonderful job. It was your strength and courage that helped the rest of us to accept him. God knows that if anyone had the right to be upset with Heath’s arrival it was you. And from your example, your courage, that you taught the rest of us how to see past our own prejudice and to welcome Heath for what he truly is, our brother."

Victoria smiled up at her son, but her smile only lasted for a few seconds before being replaced by a look of concern. "But why? Why Jarrod? Why is he turning his back on us? When I have been able to corner him long enough to speak, and God knows it hasn’t been easy, he is barely civil. Audra was complaining he hadn’t played checkers or cards with her in weeks and you know how much they enjoyed doing that. He has been at meals what, twice this past week? Oh he always has a good excuse but… Why just this morning Nick remarked he has had a better conversation with a tree stump than with Heath recently. Saturday night he didn’t go out with Nick and the rest of the boys, Sunday morning he didn’t go to church or to the social later that evening. Jarrod what is going on?"

Jarrod released his mother’s hand and walked over to lean against his desk. Jarrod had been busy recently and while he had noticed a change in Heath’s behavior, he had not thought much about it until now. "Honestly, I have no clue."

"It seems to me it started about the time that Maria left. But what could we have done that would have upset him? This family rallied behind him. Damn it Jarrod, I told Maria’s father that Heath was just as much my son as any of the rest of you," she said frustrated. "If Maria had truly wanted to marry Heath I would have backed them up 100%. But she didn’t. Right or wrong, she chose her father over Heath. Surely he can’t blame us for that?"

Jarrod started to think about what his mother had said about Marie. Was she right? "What would you like me to do Mother?"

"Talk to him Jarrod. See if you can find out what is going on, how to help him. We have come too far … he is…" Victoria voice broke. "Oh Jarrod…"

Jarrod hurried over and hugged his mother close as she started to cry. "What I said to Maria’s father, they weren’t just words but my true feelings. I love him Jarrod and I can’t bear the thought of losing him now."

Jarrod sat at his desk in town frustrated. Two days had gone by since his conversation with his mother and he still had not been able to talk to Heath. Jarrod was beginning to believe he’d have to enlist Nick’s help and tie the boy up to get him to stay still. A knock sounded on his door and Jarrod said come in. He was surprised, to say the least, to see the object of his musings standing in the doorway.

"Jarrod, I wanna talk to you," Heath said abruptly as he strode into the room.

"And good day to you to dear brother," Jarrod said jovially trying to lighten the mood.

Heath ignored him. "I’m not gonna beat around the bush. I plan to leave tomorrow, to go away for awhile."

Jarrod tried to control the shock he felt at his brother’s statement. "Sit down Heath. Let’s talk."

Heath pointedly remained standing.

"All right," Jarrod said coming out from behind his desk and perching on the front edge of it. "Why this sudden trip?"

"I have some things to do."

"I see. And just how long will these things take?"

"Don’t know."

"Well then, where will these things take you."

"I don’t know that either. Look Jarrod, I’m not going to stand here and be grilled by you. I’m going. I thought someone should know so I’m telling you."

"I wasn’t aware that I was grilling you … well never mind. You plan to leave without telling anyone else? Beside me that is," Jarrod added.

Heath fiddled with the edge of his hat. "I thought it might be … easier that way," he said softly.

"Easier for who? For you … I suppose so. For Nick, who is counting on you to help on the ranch? For Audra, who doesn’t understand why her own brother won’t speak to her anymore? For that dear sweet lady you call Mother, who is worrying herself sick trying to figure out why her son is turning against her."

Heath threw his hat on a chair and started pacing. "But I’m not Jarrod. Can’t you see that? I’m not her son. Oh I may be Tom Barkley’s son, but they have a different word for that," Heath laughed bitterly. "And it seems the folks around here are never gonna let me forget that. For the last three months I have been doing nothing but trying to live up to people’s expectations of me. Yours, Nick, Audra’s …hers … the ranch hands, the town folks…" Heath slammed his fist into the wall knocking Jarrod’s diploma’s askew. "Well I’m tired of it. I’m tired of having to be better, faster, smarter than anyone else. Nick or you give and order and it is Yes Sir Mr. Barkley. Me, well I have to prove that I have the right to give that order in the first place. I think I would have been better off not ever finding out I was Tom Barkleys son!"

Heath sat down and put his head in his hands. "I always wanted a family but Jarrod, the price is too high. When I left home, I was my own man. Oh I may have not known who my father was but I made my own place in the world. Now, I’m Heath Barkley, Tom’s bastard. Not as tough as Nick, not as smart as Jarrod, nothing but a poor boy that Victoria graciously took into her home out of the kindness of her heart. I can’t live my life like that."

Jarrod studied his brother. He had no idea Heath was so bitter; that he harbored that much resentment. He also never realized Heath felt that much pressure trying to live up to the Barkley name. Heath had seemed to adjust so well to being a member of the family that Jarrod had never given much thought to how hard the adjustment might be for him.

The statement Jarrod made to Nick a few months ago came back to haunt him. When Nick had berated Heath for how he handled the men, Jarrod had called Nick to the mat. He told Nick that while he and Jarrod were immune to it, Heath was not born to the Barkley name and it was different for him. Now, Jarrod realized just how right he had been when he said that.

Jarrod walked over to his brother and laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer comfort. Heath abruptly stood up and moved away from his brother picking up his hat. "I’ll be leaving this afternoon, as soon as I pack."

"Heath…"

"Jarrod, my mind’s made up. Nothing is going to stop me. I’m not going forever, I’ll be back. Don’t know if it will be a day, a week, a month…" Heath’s voice trailed off.

Heath looked at his brother with desperation and Jarrod thought he was going to say something more. Then, he gave his head a quick shake, turned and walked out the door leaving Jarrod alone.

Jarrod stood in silence for a few minutes. Then he grabbed his hat and headed out the door. "Karen, I have to go home. Please close up the office." Jarrod saw no sign of Heath when he walked out into the street. He mounted Jingo and hurried him towards home.

Heath packed quickly in his room, taking only the necessities; basically the things he came to this house with. He looked around the room. It felt familiar yet not familiar at the same time. He picked up his bedroll and saddlebags and headed downstairs.

Bad luck rolled his way as Victoria came out of the study as he headed across the foyer. She stared at the bedroll and saddlebags. "Are you going somewhere?"

Heath stared at Victoria.

Victoria’s heart sunk as she looked at the expression on his face. "Your leaving us aren’t you?"

Heath shook his head yes, not trusting his voice.

"But why. Why must you go?"

Heath cleared his throat. "It’s not you or anything … it’s just … I need … I need to go away for a little while to think."

"I see. Is it something we have done? Something I have done?" Victoria queried, trying to keep her tone even.

Heath shifted uncomfortably. This was what he hoped to avoid by leaving quietly. "It’s not … anything you did or anyone did. It’s just, well … I have never had a family before … and coming here … finding out who my father was … well … it’s overwhelming I guess and I need sometime to sort it out … to see…" he gazed around the house. "To see if I really belong here."

Victoria tried to stem the raising panic she felt. "You are planning to come back."

Heath looked her right in the eye. "I promise that I will be back. I just won’t promise when."

Victoria shook her head in slow agreement. "All right. Fair enough. I can’t hold you someplace you don’t want to be…"

Heath started to protest but Victoria cut him off. " I can understand that these last three months were hard for you. I can understand you being upset by Maria leaving. I can understand the shoes left to you to fill are big ones. I can understand you having doubts… but know this Heath Barkley. You are my husband’s son and though you might not be my biological son, I love you just as much as anyone of my other children. And not because you are Tom’s son and I feel some sort of obligation to you or him. I love you for yourself, for the man you have shown me you are. Oh Heath, if you need to go away for a while then do so … but don’t be gone long. And realize that you have a family that loves you and is waiting and worrying until you come back home safely."

She watched the warring emotions on his face. Finally, he reached out and touched her cheek briefly, then turned and quickly left the house. Victoria followed him onto the porch as Jarrod rode up. Heath headed for the barn. Jarrod quickly dismounted. "Heath wait."

Victoria reached out and placed a hand on Jarrod’s arm. "No Jarrod."

"But mother, he is…"

"I know Jarrod. Let him go." She gazed at the retreating man. "He needs to do this and trying to hold him here will not solve anything. He was promised me we will come back, and I believe him to be a man of his word."

Jarrod nodded his head in agreement.

"He needs to work this out for himself," she continued. "And I pray he comes to realize how important this family is to him and how important he is to this family … and to me." Jarrod put a comforting arm around his mother’s waist as the watched the sandy-haired man, who three months ago rode in to this ranch, ride out.

"Are you sure you want to do this Mother," Jarrod asked the following morning as he carried her valise to the buggy. "At least take Audra with you."

"I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to see Mary. I’ll be perfectly fine by myself. I’ll telegraph you from Calis when I get there the day after tomorrow," she replied as she settled into the buggy.

"All right Mother." He reached up and gave her a kiss. "Have a nice time. We’ll see you in a week."

Victoria waved as Ciego drove away from the house. She settled back into the seat and looked at the sky. It was a beautiful day, a day when her heart should be happy and carefree as the summer breeze. But it was not. Her heart was heavy, her mind leaden like a rain filled sky.

When she had come down to breakfast this morning and saw his empty chair, the ache had renewed itself with vigor. She kept going over the last few weeks in her mind, wondering if there was anything that she could have said or done that would have stopped Heath from leaving. She sighed as once again she trod down that familiar, frustrating path. When she reached the end of the path, she came to the same conclusion as always. Contrary to what he might feel, she knew he was his own man, as were all her sons, and nothing she could have said or done would have stopped him from leaving. He was confused and he had to find out for himself what was important in life; no one could do it for him. She prayed with all her soul that he would realize his future lay here with his family.

She tried to cheer herself up by thinking about Mary. She missed her old friend dearly. They had been such good friends: like sisters. She had been very sadden when Mary had moved away. Mary had been always been able to help Victoria see through confusion to the plain truth. She had been Victoria’s confidant, confessor, and comforter. Victoria sorely needed Mary’s comforting now and it was worth the long stagecoach ride to see her.

Heath didn’t get far that first afternoon. He didn’t want to push Charger, as the colt still did not feel 100% to him. Avoiding the towns, he camped out along the trail. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with people, strangers or otherwise.

He started out the next day, roughly following the stagecoach route east. Maybe he’d ride all the way to the coast. He hadn’t seen he ocean in a number of years and thought it might be nice to do so again. Powerful thing that ocean. Always impressed him.

He ambled along on Charger, trying to enjoy the day and tightly reining in his mind whenever it started to ponder about his leaving the Barkleys. He didn’t want to think about that subject yet. He knew if he thought about it too soon he’d turn around and head right back for the ranch. And he didn’t want to do that, not yet. No, he wanted to give himself time to get away and rationally think about the situation, not emotionally, as he was apt to do at the moment.

That afternoon he noticed vultures circling; ugly black specs against the pristine blue sky. Heath hated vultures; always had. Eaters of the dead someone had once called them. He urged Charger in the direction of the birds.

As he came down out of the hills he saw a lonely stagecoach in the middle of the road, stationary. He slowly edged Charger towards the carnage below. The stagecoach was empty, the horses gone, the luggage strewn about the valley floor and the driver and two other men lay dead on the ground. Heath dismounted and walked over to insure they were all dead; they were.

Looking around the inside of the stagecoach he noticed a piece of cloth on the floor. He picked it up and examined it. It was a handkerchief with the initials VB embroidered on it. His stomache did a queasy roll.

Climbing back out, he examined the luggage strewn about. The robbers had obviously ransacked the luggage looking for valuables. A bag, more feminine then the rest, caught his attention. He walked over to investigate it. It contained woman’s sundries. Examining the case in more detail he found the name Victoria Barkley stenciled on the inside. It confirmed his fears. Victoria had been on this stage.

With fear gnawing at his stomache, he stood up and pushed his hat back on his head. If Victoria had been on this stage, where was she now? He scanned the immediate area trying to determine what happened. Judging by the conditions, the robbery occurred a few hours ago. There were a bunch of horse tracks leading off to the north. He walked around the area in ever widening circles scanning the ground. He could find no evidence of singular tracks, only those of the large group of horses. He had to assume that Victoria did not wander off but was taken by whomever robbed the stage. There was nothing more to be learned from here so he mounted Charger and set off following the tracks in the hills.

Victoria was happy when they stopped for the night and let her down off the horse. She was stiff and sore. Being tied to the saddle was not comfortable way to ride. Though, she thought, she shouldn’t complain; at least she was still alive.

She was sure she was going to die when the robbers had shot the other two passengers on the stage. After taking the gentlemen’s wallets, the robbers had gunned them down without a second thought. The driver was already dead, having been shot as the men had descended on the stage to rob it.

After all the men were dead, they turned their attentions on her. She had handed over her pursue and stood waiting to die. The men moved a few feet from her and started talking. Though she couldn’t hear what they said, she got the distinct impression it was about her fate. Finally, they came back over to her. The one she assumed was the leader of the group had addressed her telling her she would be spared, if she cooperated. If she tried to escape she would meet the same fate as her fellow passengers. They had put her on one of the horse, tied her hands to the saddle horn and she had spent the last 6 hours like that.

As she slid gratefully to the ground the man she assumed to be the leader addressed her. "If you promise to behave I’ll leave your hands untied lady."

Victoria nodded her head in compliance.

"That’s good. You cause no problem and you’ll live. You cause me even so much as one concern and I’ll shoot you down like a rapid dog. Do we have an understanding?"

Victoria nodded her head again. This was not the time or place to be arguing. She had seen these men kill outright for no reason. She did not want to be next.

Heath pushed Charger hard, ignoring the possible leg problem. If these robbers had Victoria there was no telling what they would do. Time was of the essence. It was nearly dark when he found their campsite. He tethered Charger a ways back in the trees and crept forward to spy on the camp. The wind brought snatches of the robber’s conversation his way. He moved in closer, using all the skills he had learned from his Indian friends to be as silent as possible. He swore silently when he spotted Victoria sitting on the ground. He had hoped he’d been wrong and that she would not be here but he could clearly see her in the embers flickering glow.

There were five other men in camp along with her. Heath squinted in surprise. He thought he recognized one of the men. He waited patiently for the man to move into the fires' glow. Finally, the man went to help himself to some coffee and the fire illuminated his rugged face.

Well, boy howdy. Heath did know the man. This might just be the advantage he needed to get Victoria out alive. He slunk back to where Charger waited. Reaching into his saddlebag, he took an object out and clipped it to the back of his belt. Then he mounted and making lots of noise, headed towards the camp. He hoped they wouldn’t shot first and ask questions later.
"Hello in the camp," he called out as he slowly rode in on Charger. The five men all stood, guns aimed at him. Heath raised his hands in the air to show he was unarmed. He addressed the one man. "Frank? Is that you? It’s Heath, Heath Thompson."

The man slowly stepped forward and peered up at Heath. A smile broke across his face and he sheathed his gun. "Well, I’ll be. Heath. Never expected to see you again. Put your guns up boys. This here is an old friend of mine."

Heath dismounted, walked over and shook hands with Frank.

"Ain’t it just a small world," Frank said as he clapped Heath on the back. "C’mere. Let me introduce you to the rest of the boys. This is George, Leroy, Parker and Joe."

Heath nodded his head to each man in turn.

"Heath here saved my life quite a few times during the war in Mexico."

The men settled back down on the ground and Frank offered Heath a cup for coffee.

"What are you doing here in California Heath? Last I heard you was heading for Nevada and silver," Frank asked as he leaned back against a rock cupping his mug of coffee.

"Didn’t have much luck. Yourself Frank? What happened to the rest of the gang? To Sam and Harry?"

A dark expression crossed Frank’s face. "Sam," he spat. "That traitor." Frank took a sip of his coffee before continuing. "It was a job down in New Carol. Bank. We got sloppy and Sam, Harry and I were captured and sent to prison. Ya know, in all my years I never was locked up. That was the first time. Didn’t like it. But you’ve been in prison. Ya know what I mean."

Heath shook his head affirmatively.

"Well. A bunch of us planned a break. We thought we had a good chance of getting free." A look of pure hatred showed on Frank’s face. "We probably would have if it weren’t for Sam. He ratted on us." Frank cracked his knuckles. "The damn little weasel ratted on his own to the Warden. As we crept through the fence, the guards picked us off like ducks on a pond. Harry was killed. I was one of the few that managed to escape, though not without carrying some iron away."

Heath threw the rest of his coffee in the fire.

"There is many things in life I can tolerant Heath, but as you know a traitor is not one of them. Oh, but I took care of Sam. I waited… waited until they released him on so called good behavior. And when he was free I hunted him down like the rat he was. I enjoyed his screaming as I ripped his guts out. It was a fittin’ end for a weasel."

Frank’s tone lightened. "Still don’t understand why you went. Ya know we would have made a great team."

Heath gave Frank a half-smile. "Robbing banks and stagecoaches was a bit too much work for me. Besides, eventually you get caught and well, as you said once in prison was enough for me. Naw, I did some mining, fishing, wrangling; it was alright by me. Still moving about as the breeze takes me."

Frank laughed. "Yeah, you were always search for something. Did you ever find it?"

Heath flinched at Frank’s question. It hit to close to home for comfort. He quickly changed the subject. "Saw an abandon stagecoach down the line. Your work?"

"Yep. Not worth the effort though. A lousy $500 bucks and that lady there." Frank jerked his head towards Victoria.

Heath glanced over at Victoria, his face displaying no recognition. He turned back to Frank. "What you aim to do with her?"

"Well, I haven’t quite made up my mind. I suppose I could try to sell her to one of them riverboat runners. They do a trade in women I hear, though I think she is a might bit older than they are looking for. I should have killed her with the rest of the passengers. Guess I’m going soft in my old age. Ironic isn’t it." He stared over at Victoria catching her eyes. "But," he directed at Victoria, "I will kill her if she becomes a bother. I ain’t that old."

Heath got up and walked over to Victoria. Hands on his hips, he looked her up and down evaluating her as he would a horse at auction. He turned back to Frank. "Ya know, Frank. I think I know her."

Victoria started in alarm. What was Heath doing?

Heath moved closer. Victoria could read nothing from his expression.

"Yeah, yeah I do. She and her sons own a big spread in the valley. I worked on the ranch a few months back. Pretty sure this was the lady I seen livin’ in that fine house."

Heath turned his attention back to Frank. "I bet you her family would pay big bucks to get her back alive."

Frank got up and walked over to where Victoria sat. ‘’Hey lady. Is he right about you bein' rich?"

Victoria stiffened her spine and stared back at the man in silent defiance. Frank reached down and backhanded her across the face. Victoria’s head snapped back and she fell sideways to the ground.

It was all Heath could do to stop himself from reaching out and strangling Frank. He did reach out to halt Frank’s hand as he prepared to strike her again.

"Frank. People aren’t gonna pay for damaged goods. She got three sons and I know one of them pretty well. He’s got a temper. We don’t want to rile him by returning his mother to him hurt. He’s the type that would hunt us to the ends of the earth." Heath knelt down next to Victoria and helped her into a sitting position. His eyes begged forgiveness of her while he spoke "Now lady. I think you better answer. You are one of those Barkley’s?"

"I am Victoria Barkley," she said answered.

Heath rocked back on his heels. "Boy howdy Frank, you just hit the mother lode."

Victoria looked up at the men. She glanced at Heath and he gave her the briefest glimpse of his characteristic half-smile.

Taking that as a positive sign she answered in a strong voice. "Yes. We do have money and my sons will pay your handsomely for my safe return."

Frank rubbed his hands together. "Well, well. Looks like this is my lucky day. You say you know of this ranch Heath, you worked on it?"

Heath nodded his head.

"So you can lead us there? We’ll cut you in for a piece of the action of course."

Heath nodded again.

"Now wait a minute here Frank," Joe said stepping forward. "I don’t like this idea. That means we got drag this lady along with us. And she’s seen us. What’s to stop her from identifying us to the Sheriff after we let her go?"

The other men nodded their head in agreement. Frank hesitated.

Heath started to get nervous. He was losing control of the situation. "Well Joe, first off you are gonna ask for a lot of money for her return. I figure she is worth at least $20,000."

The men looked at him in disbelief.

"I’m telling’ you these Barkley’s are stinkin’ rich. I know they got the biggest spread in the valley plus mines, vineyards, stocks … you name it. Oh, they’ll pay; they’ll pay big time to get their Mama back. As for her identifying you, well I figure for that kind of money I’d just disappear down in Mexico and never worry about it. Ain’t like you gonna settle down in Stockton. Naw, get the money, leave the lady and high tail it for the border," Heath concluded.

"There Joe, that answer all your questions?" Frank asked.

Joe scowled and muttered.

"Joe, you worry to much," Frank laughed. "Come on Heath, lets have a drink to celebrate our good fortune."

Joe continued to scowl as the two men walked off. He wasn’t sure he liked or trusted this new guy. He was gonna keep a real close eye on him.

Victoria watched as the men walked across the camp, leaving her alone again. She rubbed a hand across her face where she had been hit. It hurt. Her eyes obtusely sought Heath as he sat around and drank with the rest of the men. She thought she had known this boy. But he had been to prison? Robbed banks? Acted like these killers, or at least Frank, was an old friend. She came to the conclusion she wasn’t so sure she really knew anything about Heath at all.

Heath laid on his bunk-roll on the hard ground thinking. He glanced at Victoria. He desperately wanted to go over and talk to her, comforter her but he knew that would be foolish. The only way to get them both out of this situation alive was to continue down the path he started. He’d contemplated trying to escape into the night with her, but he did not believe they could get far enough away before the others were alerted and hunted them down. Frank especially; he always-slept light. And he knew that Frank would hunt him down, to the ends of the earth like he did Sam, if he thought Heath had betrayed him. Frank was a very dangerous man. Heath had learned that a long time ago. No, best to stay the course for the moment.

Heath’s thoughts turned back to Victoria. As he laid here he had come to realize he do anything … anything to insure she was released unharmed. He… well... he loved her. Somehow, he had come to love this woman in the three months since he had met her. He didn’t love her as a man loves a woman, but as a son loves his mother. It surprised him because he didn’t believe he would ever feel that way about anyone again. It was a good feeling and yet scary. He looked over at her again. What if she too died, leaving him alone like his mother? He couldn’t take that again, not so soon. No, he would do anything to insure she remained alive. He hadn’t been able to save his mother but he would save Victoria he vowed.

Joe also lay awake that night. He wasn’t happy with this new comer. If truth were known he was jealous. He had always been Frank’s right-hand man and this new comer had usurped his role. He didn’t like it, didn’t like it at all and he aimed to do something about it.

The next morning Joe sauntered over to Heath as he saddled up Charger. "Pretty fancy horse for a drifter." Joe ran his hand over the brand on the horse’s rump, tracing its outline with his finger. "Good quality horse."

Heath slapped Charger on the stomache and tightened the girth further.

"Where’d you get a horse like this cowboy."

Heath mounted and looked down on Joe. "Let’s just say I found him and leave it at that." Heath spurred Charger forward and moved up next to Frank and Victoria. He noticed they still had tied Victoria hands to the saddle horn. So much for escaping on the trail Heath thought. To risky with her tied to the saddle like that. He’d have to bide his time.

Frank handed the lead rein of Victoria’s to Parker. "Let’s move out."

Nick met Jarrod at the door of the house. "No telegram from Mother?"

Jarrod shook his head no as he entered and took his hat off. He too thought she would have sent the telegram as soon as she got into town. Perhaps the stage got delayed and she decided to go to Mary’s house first. Jarrod was sure she would send the telegram in the morning.

They stopped for a break around noon. When it was time to go Joe went over to put Victoria on her horse. Joe shoved Victoria towards the animal. "Hurry up lady, we don’t have all day." Victoria stumbled and fell to her knees. Joe reached down and roughly dragged her to her feet. He drew his hand back to strike Victoria when Heath fist exploded in his face. Joe let go and stumbled back onto the ground, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

Heath stood over him glaring. "Don’t hit her."

The rest of the men gathered around the two, all but Frank. He remained were he was, silent. If there was one thing he had learned over the years in leading a group of men, it was that they had to establish pack hierarchy, like dogs. There had to be an alpha, which was he, but their rest of the pack also had to establish rank. Let the rest of the men decide where Heath would fit in.

Joe wiped his mouth, got up and moved closer to Heath. "What’s it to you cowboy. You sweet on her or something?"

"The family is not gonna appreciate if we return her bruised and beaten. They are apt to search us out all that much harder," Heath returned quietly.

"Is that so," Joe said trying to provoke Heath. He took a menacing step towards Victoria and raised his hand as to strike her again.

"I said, leave her alone," Heath repeated.

Joe stood tall. "You aiming to make me boy?"

Heath refused to rise to the bait.

Joe reached out to complete his strike. His hand never connected with her face. Instead, he cried out in pain as he found a knife embedded in his palm.

Frank chuckled to himself. Seems Heath still was in the habit of carrying a knife around. The boy had always been good with it. Heck, he’d seen him throw that knife with an accuracy that was uncanny at times.

Frank decided it was time to break it up. The hierarchy was established. He walked over to Joe, grasped the wounded hand and cleanly pulled the knife out. Joe yelped in pain.

"Ah simmer down Joe. Ain’t nothing put a pinprick. Charlie, bandage him up. You oughta consider yourself lucky. I’ve seen Heath kill men by throwing a knife clear through their hearts."

Frank strolled over to where Heath stood and handed him the knife. Heath took it wordlessly, wiping it on his pants legs and then sliding it back into the sheath on the back of his belt.

"Kind of small knife ain’t it?" Frank queried. "What happen to that big one you use to have?"

Heath glanced over at Joe and the rest of the men as he answered dryly. "It got stuck in something, and I didn’t have time to remove it."

Frank chuckled. "All right, enough of this foolishness. Parker, get Joe’s hand wrapped and let’s get going."

Heath walked over and helped Victoria mount her horse. He could feel her trembling. Again, he wanted to reassure her and again he couldn’t. After she was settled, he took the lead rein, walked over and got onboard Charger. He sat there patiently waiting for the rest of the men.

Victoria stared at the back of the man she called son. Again she wondered what she really knew about this boy.

"Whoa," Heath said pulling up Charger. "We’re about 15 miles outside of Stockton. This would be a good place to make our base, I say."

They set up the camp with practiced easy. They fetched water from the nearby creek and firewood from the stand of trees. While dinner was heating up they discussed the strategy for delivering the ransom note.

"It’s settled. Me, Heath and Joe here will go into town and try to surprise that lawyer at his office. The rest of you guard the camp," Frank concluded.

Heath tried to protest again. "I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go into town. I might run into someone I know. I did work in the valley for a few months."

"We have been over this already. You know your way around Stockton. Plus, we need you to point out the lawyer fellow to us. If he recognizes you, no harm. Like you said, we ain’t plannin’ to settle in the valley." Frank said.

Heath winced as his own words came back to haunt him. "I said I might know what he looks like. It’s not like I’m his brother or anything. I’ve seen him around the ranch, but never talked to him or anything. He didn’t associate with the ranch hands."

"Well that is still more then the rest us know. No, you’re coming."

Heath sighed in frustration. This was not working out as planned. He figured he could escape with Victoria when the others delivered the note. Now, he needed a new plan.

Heath was nervous. He was afraid someone would recognize him in Stockton and spill the beans. All’s he needed was someone to call him Barkley. He tried to ride casually through town and was tremendously relieved when they made it to Jarrod’s office without incident.

As Joe tethered his mount to the rail in front of Jarrod’s office, he happened to notice the brand on the rump of the bright chestnut already standing there. He traced it with his finger as his mind tried to place it. The brand looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember why.

The three men entered the outer room of Jarrod’s office finding it empty. Drawing his gun, he motioned Heath and Joe to cover him. With one swift kick, Frank busted open the door into Jarrod’s private office.

"Don’t move or you are a dead man," Frank warned as he leveled the gun at Jarrod’s head.

Heath strode into the room, moving quickly to Jarrod side. He pulled Jarrod’s gun from his holster and tucked it in the front of his own pants.

Jarrod started to speak.

Heath had no idea what this brother was going to say and he couldn’t take a chance so he grabbed Jarrod, backhanded him across the face, and shoved him onto the couch near the wall. "No talking. Just listen." Heath walked back over by Frank.

Jarrod glanced flickered from man to man finally coming to rest on Frank.

"We have your mother. If you want to see her alive again you better listen and listen good," Frank instructed.

A worried look crossed Jarrod’s face. These men had kidnapped his mother?

"I want you to get $20,000 and place it in a saddlebag. Bring the money to..." he looked to Heath, "Potter’s field?"

Heath shook her head yes. "Yeah, Potter’s field, down by the creek. Nearby the old mine."

Jarrod’s eyes narrowed for a moment as he scanned Heath’s face. Heath cocked an eyebrow at him. Jarrod got the distinct feeling he was trying to convey something to him.

Frank continued to addressed Jarrod. "Bring the saddlebag to Potter’s field tomorrow afternoon, alone. Leave it in the field and head straight home. My men will be watching to confirm that you do as directed. If you do not, I will kill your mother."

"How do I know you’ve not already done that?" Jarrod asked.

Heath spoke. "I give you my word, your mother is unharmed. But unless you do as told, she will die."

Jarrod stared at his brother’s face. Heath gave him slight nod. He was serious.

"After we have the saddlebag in our possession, we will free your mother. She can ride back to the ranch and meet you there. However, one wrong move lawyer and I will kill her. Do you understand?" Frank asked.

Jarrod shook his head yes.

During the exchange, Joe had been moving around the office looking at things. As he rifled on Jarrod’s desk he came across the box of cigar and helped himself. He dropped one on the desk and as he went to pick it up his gazed came to rest on a picture sitting there. Joe picked it up, unbeknownst to any of the other men. As he studied the picture, an evil smile lit on his face. Ripping it from its frame, he stuffed the picture in his shirt pocket dropping the empty frame to the floor. Frank thought he was so smart. Well, just wait until he saw what Joe had found. That Heath boy was gonna die and Joe was gonna enjoy every minute of it.

Frank called out to Joe. "Git over here and tie him to the chair. Not too tight mind you, wouldn’t want him to be unable to get our money," Frank chuckled. "But tight enough for us to make our escape."

Joe complied. As he tied Jarrod to a chair he remembered where he had seen the brand on that chestnut pony before. "Hey lawyer," he asked. "Is that chestnut pony tied to the railing out front yours."

"Yes. Why?"

Joe grinned from ear to ear. "Oh no reason. I just admire me a good piece of horse flesh that’s all." Joe grinned up at Heath. "Kinda like your horse," he said to Heath. "That’s an awful nice colt you got … for a drifter."

Heath got a queasy feeling in his stomache again. Why was Joe talking about horses at a time like this?

"Quit your jabbering and hurry up," Frank ordered.

Joe tied the last knot and headed for the office door. As he passed by Heath he grinned again. "Real nice horse."

Heath threw a last look over his shoulder at his brother as he followed the men out of the office.

Jarrod struggled with his bonds managing to free himself quickly. He ran outside and looked around, even though he knew the men would be gone. He slowly went back into his office to close it up and then head home and tell Nick what was going on. As he came around his desk he stepped on something on the floor. He bent down and retrieved the broken frame, minus the picture. He remembered it was a shot taken about two-month’s ago with the whole family…Heath included.

Jarrod heart sank. That man, the one that had asked about the horse must have picked up the picture when he was over here. Surely he had recognized Heath. Jarrod was pretty sure the men who came in the office with Heath, did not know they were brothers and that Heath was somehow working from the inside to get Victoria free.

Jarrod sat down heavily in his chair his mind thinking about the conversation again. Potter’s field, down by the creek and old mine Heath had said. Well, there was a creek and a old mine, but it was not by Potter’s field. It was north, about 15 miles away. Why would Heath give him incorrect landmarks for dropping off the money, unless he never intended them to leave the money in the first place? Heath must feel that the men had no intention of releasing Victoria alive. Was he perhaps, trying to tell Jarrod where the kidnappers were camped? Jarrod bolted from his chair. He had to get Nick.

When the three men got back to camp, the others were ecstatic to hear how well it went. They were already dreaming of the money. Heath continued to have an unease feeling about Joe. Ever since they got back from town he had been grinning to himself and giving Heath sideways glances. He knew the man was up to something but he didn’t know what.

Heath walked over and ran a hand down Charger’s leg to check for soreness. He found nothing and was happy since he had been pushing the horse the last few days. Heath gave Charger a pat on the rump as he started to walk away. His hand passed over the brand on the horse’s side and his mind recoiled. Heath stumbled against Charger’s side, leaning heavily on him for balance while his mind reeled. The brand. And didn’t Joe ask Jarrod’s about his horse? Had Joe realized the brands were the same? You’re being silly Heath tried to tell himself. Joe wasn’t all that bright and besides, what did the brand prove? I’ll just tell him I stole the horse from the ranch before I left.

Heath walked back into the camp. He wasn’t convinced that was all though. Joe was just to pleased with himself. Did he know more and if so how? Heath decided he had to break Victoria free tonight. He dearly hoped Jarrod had figured out Heath had been trying to tell him where this camp was located. But he couldn't depend on that so it was still up to him to free Victoria.

He decided is he could create enough of a distraction in the camp, maybe she could slip away. He pulled Jarrod’s gun out of his saddlebag and stuck it in his belt. He’d give it to Victoria. He untethered Charger and left him free-tied to the ground. It would save a few seconds when she tried to escape and it might make a difference.

Heath walked over to where the food was being prepared and fixed a plate for Victoria. He ambled over to her and squatted down in front of her, his back to the rest of the men. As he handed her the plate, he also gave her Jarrod’s gun. She quickly hid it under her skirt then took the plate.

Heath spoke softly. "I’m going to try to distract the men. When I do, you head for Charger as fast as you can and get out of here. He is standing free so just mount and ride."

Victoria looked at his face in concern. "But what about you? How will you get away?."

"Don’t worry about me. Do as I said." Heath urgently whispered back.

"But…"

"Did it or were both gonna die!"

Victoria heard the desperate plea in his voice and nodded her head. She would do as told and pray he knew what was doing.

Heath got up and joined the rest of the men. He grabbed a plate of grub and sat down to eat it. He was trying to think up a way to distract the men when Joe started talking to him.

"Hey cowboy. Where did you say you got that horse from?"

Heath looked up from his plate. "I don’t recollect I did."

"Well, wanna know something interestin’?" Joe said addressing the other men at the campsite. "Seems this boy’s horse and that lawyer’s fellow horse got the same brand. Kinda like a big B.

Heath noticed out of the corner of his eye, Victoria had laid down her plate. Heath turned his attention back to Joe.

"Yeah, they do," Heath drawled.

"So you admit it cowboy. Then maybe you’d like to explain how you come to own that horse," Joe prodded.

"I stole it. I decided I deserved a bonus so I helped my self to the horse," Heath countered.

Joe still smiled. Heath knew he was in trouble now. It wasn’t just the brand. Joe did have something more.

Joe reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the picture. He smoothed it with his hand as walked over to Frank.

"Well lookee here what else I found in the lawyer fellow’s office. Look real close at the person on the end. Don’t he look kinda familiar?"

Heath groaned inwardly. That was Joe’s ace, the picture of the family that Jarrod kept on his desk. The picture he was in.

Frank took the picture from Joe’s hand and studied it, looking from Heath to the picture.

Joe went on. "I think Heath here knows the Barkley’s a whole lot better than he’s letting on."

Frank looked up at Heath. "What is this?" he asked as he waved the picture.

Heath decided to tell them the truth. They were all focused on him and it would keep them focused, at least long enough for Victoria to escape he hoped.

Heath locked his gaze on Frank. "I never knew who my father was, until about four months ago. My mother died and on her deathbed, she told me my father had been Tom Barkley. I decided to go to the ranch to claim what was mine. The name, the prestige, and the money."

Victoria was at Charger’s side. She took his reins and quietly led him away from the camp. When she got a little ways out, she mounted and rode as fast as she could to get help.

Heath slowly rose to his feet as he wrapped up his tale. Frank rose too. Heath had seen Charger move off and knew Victoria was gone. His mind sighed. Now he only had to save himself.

Nick and Jarrod spurred their horses as fast they dared in the darkness towards the spot were they believed the camp was located. Both men wore a grim look as the rode hell bent into the night.

Frank spoke first. "Then that woman is your…"

"Step-mother," Heath finished.

The men glanced over at Victoria only to discover she was gone.

"Hey, she’s gone," yelled Joe.

Nick and Jarrod heard a horse approaching at top speed. They drew their guns and moved to the side of the trail. Both men were shocked to see their mother ride around the corner.

Victoria hauled Charger to a stop. "Nick, Jarrod, thank god."

The boys flung themselves from their horses and ran to help their mother down. They hugged her furiously.

"Are you all right mother?" Jarrod asked.

Victoria waved a hand in the air. "I’m fine but they still have Heath. They know who he is. There gonna kill him."

Nick took control. "Don’t worry mother we’ll get him. You ride back to town and get the sheriff and his men.

"Oh, be careful boys. These men are cold blooded killers," she warned as she gave each one of her sons a kiss on the cheek.

"We will mother," Jarrod assured her as he boosted her on Charger. They took off in opposite directions, each with a mission to fulfill.

Heath flung his plate of food in Joe’s face and bolted for the cover of darkness. Frank tackled him from behind bringing him to the ground. The two men wrestled, rolling back and forth until Frank emerged victorious, pinning Heath to the dirt. He slammed his fist into Heath’s face. "What were you planning? You gonna turn us in? You’re just like Sam," he screamed as he slammed Heath’s head against the ground. "You traitor, you traitor."

Heath felt himself losing consciousness. He tried to fight back the black tide when gun shots sounded across the clearing. Frank instinctively let go of Heath and scrambled for cover.

With a supreme effort, Heath staggered to his feet and blindly wandered into the darkness, his only thought to escape from Frank before the man killed him.

Nick and Jarrod winged one man as the rest scrambled for cover in the darkness. Not being able to identify which one of the men that hid the darkness was their brother, they held their fire.

Frank saw Heath slipping away and headed after him. He was determined to kill the traitor. It was his one burning thought. There was nothing he hated worse than a traitor. He raised his gun and took a shot a the retreating figure. He saw Heath stumble and he smiled in anticipation. He had him now.

Heath fell to the ground as the bullet grazed his leg. He continued to crawl away in the darkness.

Nick realized that the last shot fired was away from them. He tapped Jarrod on the shoulder and the two men made their way over to where they thought the shot had came from.

Heath got to his feet and tried to run a few steps before collapsing against a tree. He could hear Frank coming up fast from behind. He heard Frank swear when he reached the spot he expected to find the downed Heath. Heath looked about for a way to escape. He couldn’t out run Frank but .. he looked up at the tree. Heath gritted his teeth and shimmied up the tree trunk, his leg screaming in pain and threatening to dump him to the ground. He crawled out on a limb and waited for his quarry to pass by.

Nick and Jarrod advanced cautiously through the darkness. With no moon it was like playing a game of blind man’s bluff, except the outcome was far more dangerous. Nick signaled to Jarrod to split up and they both started circling in hopes of finding Heath.

Heath saw a figure come near the tree. His eyes went blurry and his grip loosened on the branch. He shook his head to force back darkness and concentrated on his foe. When he was directly underneath, Heath half-leapt, half fell from the tree bringing his quarry to the ground. He viscously slammed the butt of his gun into his enemies head, rendering him unconscious. Heath rolled off and knelt panting by his side. It was then he took a good look at who he knocked out … his own brother Nick.

Heath heard more footsteps coming closer in the darkness. That must be Frank he thought. He grabbed Nick under the arms and dragged him into the cover of some bushes. As he pushed further through the bushes he realized it was the opening to the old mineshaft. He pulled his unconscious brother into the shadows of the old mine.

Frank saw the bushes move and fired a shot in that direction.

Jarrod heard the shot and used it to home in on the action.

Frank pushed his way into the mine entrance. His foot hit something and he discovered an old barrel of torches. Grabbing one, he lit it with a match. As it caught, he scanned the tunnel. A 100 feet away he could see Heath and some man. Frank fired a warning shot. "Stop or you’ll both die."

Heath slowly sank to the ground. He could risk his own life but not his brothers.

"Throw your weapon to me. His too," Frank commanded.

Heath pulled his gun from his holster tossed it towards Frank along with Nicks, which he had tucked into his pants waist.

Frank moved down the tunnel and collected the guns. He held the torch high as he looked down on the two men on the ground. "Who’s he."

"My brother."

Frank grunted. "Well I lied. You’re both gonna die now."

A gunshot rang out. Heath threw his body over Nick to shield him as Frank crumbled to the ground, the torch rolling into the dirt.

Out of the darkness a figure emerged and reached for the still burning torch. As the hand lofted it, Heath glanced up to see Jarrod’s face. Heath sat back in relief. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes finally letting the black tide free and allowing himself slip into oblivion.

The doctor pronounced that both boys would be fit in a couple of days if they took his advice and rested. Victoria thanked him as she showed him out.

Heath woke to the feel of soft sheets. The events of the last few days hazily drifted through his mind. He let them go as he drifted back off to sleep. Time enough to deal with them later.

When he woke later, he decided to go downstairs. Heath slowly made his way down leaning heavily on the banister for support. When he reached the bottom he looked about the foyer as he would a no-man’s land. How was he ever going to get across that large expanse? He heard someone come down the stairs behind him.

"I don’t know why the Doctor even bothers to come out here when none of my sons will ever take his advice," Victoria scolded.

Heath glanced back at her.

"Well, what do you plan to do now, or hadn’t you thought that far ahead?"

The sheepish grin on Heath’s face told Victoria he indeed had not planned that far ahead.

"If you are so determined to get downstairs, let me help you." She put her shoulder under his arm on his bad side and helped him limp into the study. He gratefully plopped down on the sofa when they got there, panting from the exertion.

"Nick?"

"Is already out, also against the doctor’s orders I might add."

Heath leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. He must have dozed off cause when he woke, he discovered a blank covering him and Victoria gone. He yawned and rubbed a weary hand across his face.

"Now don’t you look all comfy laying there like a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes," Nick said sarcastically as he entered the study.

Heath looked up at his brother, his eyes going to the bandage around his head. Nick started for the drink tray and then turned abruptly back and flung himself in a chair opposite Heath. "Some foolishness about not drinking for a few days until this headache goes away. Doctors, what do they know?" Nick complained. He saw the flicker of concern cross his brother’s features.

"Don’t worry, it looks worse than it is," Nick told him to ease his mind. "Though you walloped me pretty good boy." He leaned forward and stared at his brother. "How are you doing?"

Heath broke his brother’s gaze and looked away as a slow flush colored his face and neck.

"Wanna talk about it?" Nick asked gently.

Heath continued to stare out the window.

"You know what our father use to say to Jarrod and I?" Nick questioned emphasizing the word our. He saw the side of Heath’s jaw clench.

"He told us that when he was gone someday, we were only gonna have each other … to talk to, to depend on, to lean on. He told us the bond between brothers was sacred and never to let anything sever that bond. Heath, you are our brother too and you have that same bond. Problem is, like a colt broke new to the saddle, you don’t know how to deal with it yet. No one ever showed you the ropes."

Heath gaze shifted back to Nick and he cocked an eyebrow at him in confusion.

Nick got up and started to pace around the room. "Until the other night, I never thought about what it must have been like for you to come into this family. How you must have felt. I know for one I expected you to fill some pretty big shoes." Nick glanced over at Heath who dropped his eyes down to stare at his hands.

"I want to apologize, if I well, put to much pressure on you to live up to my standards."

Heath looked up at Nick as he spoke. "Nick, I wanna live up to your standards, more than anything in the world. I admire the man you are, what you do, how you do it. It’s just …" Heath gazed down at his hands again. "I want to live up to your expectations, Jarrod, Victoria’s. I want to be part of this family. But …I have to be my own man too," he added softly.

Nick moved over to Heath’s side and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It’s not an either or boy. Jarrod, Eugene and I are different as night and day, yet we are all brothers and we know we can trust and depend on each other for anything. You’ll find your path too … just give it sometime." Nick gazed up at the photo over the mantle. "Being part of a family, well, it’s hard at times and you have to work at it, but it is worth it."

Nick gave his brother a final squeeze on the shoulder and left him to contemplate.

A few days later, Victoria asked Heath if he would like to accompany her on a ride. Ciego hitched the horse to the buggy and the two drove off. Victoria held the reins and Heath was surprised to see them pull up by the creek he had come to think of as his own.

"Surprised?" she asked.

Heath nodded his head. They climbed out of the buggy and made their way down to the creeks edge. Heath instinctively picked up a handful of pebbles and started tossing them in the creek.

Victoria settled down on a nearby log. "I know this is your favorite place to come to be alone."

Victoria took a deep breath before continuing. "Heath. I can’t help wondering about what I saw and what I heard about you from that man Frank. To be perfectly honest, it scares me; makes me wonder if I really know you at all."

Heath looked at her then lowered his eyes.

Victoria asked gently. "Would you tell me about it? Prison, the killing, riding with Frank’s gang? "

Heath thought back on what Nick said, that being part of a family, about depending on and trusting people. He looked at the concerned woman sitting next to him as he bit his lower lip. She was asking about some pretty dark times he had gonna through.

Victoria could sense that Heath was warring with himself. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "No matter what you tell me, it won’t stop me from loving you. And if you don’t want to tell me, well I understand and will respect that too."

Heath took a deep breath and launched out into the uncharted waters. "The easiest to explain is the prison. You know I left home at 16 to join the army."

Victoria shook her head yes.

"Joining the Army was an eye opening experience for a 16 year old. I lied about my age to get in, but heck, they didn’t care. They’d signed near about anyone. I, well, saw a lot and learned a lot of things. Whoever wrote war is hell was right." Heath gazed up at the sky for a few minutes before continuing.

"Near the end of the war, I was captured in New Mexico and sent to Carterson, a prison." He face turned dark and his voice grew rough. "I nearly died there, many of my friends did. It was a filthy, rotten, hellhole run by a sadistic man. Maggoty food, filthy water, floggings for complaining, no medical treatment. Men screaming out in pain day and night, only ceasing…," Heath swallowed hard. "Only ceasing when they died. I spent seven months in that hellhole." Heath closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. Victoria watched as he unconsciously clenched his hands into fists. "If I ever see him again I swear I will…." Heath slammed his fist into the earth.

Victoria touched him tentatively on the shoulder but she didn’t even think he felt her hand, he was so lost in his memories. Finally, he shook off his reverie and looked out at the creek. "I don’t want to talk anymore about that place," he said flatly.

She touched his hand again in understanding. She had never heard him so angry and bitter.

"Anyway, that was the prison Frank spoke of. As for the knife, yes, I have killed a number of men using a knife. Learned it as a boy from a man who did it as part of a circus show. It has been a good thing to know over the years. It is unexpected. He never expected it from a 13-year-old boy. Last thing the that pig expected from me…"

Victoria looked at him in puzzlement. Thirteen year old boy? "I don’t understand."

Heath looked at her startled and then realized what he said. "I shouldn’t have said that." Heath chewed on his lower lip. "I am not ready to talk about that with you or anybody yet. Please, I’m sorry."

Victoria squeezed his forearm gently. "It’s OK. But I’m ready if you are."

Heath gave her one of his trademark half-smiles and she knew he appreciated her offer.

"Anyway, that explains what Frank meant about the killing. Guess that just leaves Frank and his gang."

Heath sighed. "I met up with Frank during the fighting in Mexico. The structure down there was very loose, not like a normal war. Frank had put together a group of men, some of the best fighters I have ever met, myself included. Frank and his band took on missions that the regular Army did not want to handle.

These men were good and the bond between us was almost like that of a family. We watched out for each other, took care of each other when hurt. You could always depend on them to watch your back. For many of us, this band was our substitute family.

After the war was over, we stayed together. We tried a number of things from mining to farming, but nothing seemed to work out. Kind of ironic, men that were so good at fighting were not much good at anything else. Plus, Frank was always a big spender and the money he could make farming and doing odd just didn’t suit him.

One day, after another particularly bad venture, Frank decided we should rob a bank. Easy money he said. Get enough to live on. He figured we had the expertise from the war. Most of the men in the group went along with the idea. Those that didn’t left.

I was on the fence. At 19, this was as close to a family as I had ever known. I worshipped Frank. I admit the idea of stealing did not appeal to me but … well .. like I said, we were real close and I had come to think of a lot of these men as brothers. I guess I went along because of that.

We went into the town to check out the bank. Frank and I went in it and looked around; we thought it was a pretty easy job overall. I have to admit I was feeling nervous about the whole thing. Not because I didn’t think we could pull it off but I guess cause my conscious was bothering me. That night we all went back into town to the saloon and I got drunk, real drunk." Heath laughed to himself. "First time being drunk ever did me any good. In this case, I think, it save my life."

Victoria shifted her position as she watched Heath tell his story. He was totally lost in his memories. She doubted he even remembered she was here.

"Yeah, I got real drunk that night and picked a fight with the wrong person, the Sheriff’s son. He went running to his Daddy after I beat him up and the next thing I knew I was in jail. And boy howdy that Sheriff decided to make an example out of me. Normally, drunks are locked up and released the next day. Not me. No sir. This Sheriff kept me locked up for a whole week until the circuit judge came around to hear my case."

Heath paused and plucked a piece of grass from the ground, twirling it between his fingers. "Yeah, that was probably what saved my life. Frank came to visit, said they could bust me out if I wanted, but I said no. Figured it wasn’t worth being a hunted man and I would just wait for the judge. So Frank and his men robbed that bank without me. I was actually able to watch from my cell window. They got away cleaning as a whistle.

That week I spent locked up, I did a lot of thinking. First, I have to say I didn’t much like being behind bars again. After Carterson, jail cells made my skin crawl. They always made me… remember. " Heath tossed the grass back on the ground.

"Guess when a man has nothing better to do then sit around thinking about his life, he learns a few things about himself. And I learned I didn’t like the turn my life was taking."

Heath paused to steady his voice. "My mother never stole anything in her life and believe me, there were times when we were very desperate. But she never degraded herself and here I was thinking about robbing a bank. I have to tell you the more I thought about it the more ashamed I became. I decided when I got out of that jail that I would leave Frank and the gang and be the kind of man my mama wanted."

Heath raised his head and smiled at Victoria. "She was a fine women my mama."

Victoria laid a hand on his arm. "And she raised a fine son."

Heath smiled warmly back at her.

"Not much more to tell I guess. Circuit judge made me pay a fine and let me go. I went back and found Frank, told him I was heading out. Can’t say if Frank really understood why but we parted on amicable terms. He tried to give me some money from the robbery but I wouldn’t take it. Couldn’t take it."

" After I left I traveled, taking jobs here and there; leaving when the urge hit me to move on. Never allowed myself to become attached again. Kind of kept people at a distance. Seemed safer that way … until I came here."

Heath struggled to find the right words. "And now … well … I guess I’m trying to learn how to belong again." He gave a half-shrug, "maybe not doing so good at it."

Victoria smiled at him. "I think your doing just fine. It is an adjustment, for all of us. Give it time, give us time. Forgive us for our mistakes as you know we will forgive you for yours."

Heath smiled back at her. Victoria felt like she had won. That tenuous bond between them was back and she vowed not to let it break ever again.

"Now, what do you say we go back to the ranch for lunch. I’m starving," Victoria said.

Heath rose to his feet and helped her up. On impulse, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks you … Mother."

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