"I worked for Mr. Carvers at the livery stable in Strawberry."

"You did?"

"Yep. Since I was six. Every day before school and after school, and all day on Saturdays. I wanted to earn money so my mother wouldn't have to work so hard."

Tom smiled at the boy while placing a tender hand on his head. The more he was with the child the more insight he gained regarding what Heath's life had been like prior to Leah's death. Though she'd struggled to make ends meet, it was obvious by things Heath said that he was Leah's pride and joy.

Like Tom promised Victoria, he took Heath to shop for a new set of clothes on Saturday. Though Heath never asked for anything specific, Tom was well aware the boy's eyes never wandered far from the cowboy hats and boots. While the store owner wrapped their purchases Tom walked over to his son.

"I see you've taken a liking to some things over here."

Heath looked up. "That hat is just like Nick's. And those are the kind of boots he wears."

"You're right." Tom stroked his beard, pretending to be deep in thought. "I don't suppose you'd like to own a hat and pair of boots yourself."

"No. You bought me enough already. More than I've ever had in my whole life. I just like looking at these."

"Well, I'd say you need to do more than look. A true Barkley never leaves home without a hat on his head and boots on his feet. Go on. Pick out the ones you want."

"Really? Can I?"

"Sure."

Tom helped Heath find boots that fit him. It wasn't lost on the man that his son had chosen boots identical to Nick's. He expected the same choice when it came to the hat, and was surprised when Heath veered from the black hats like Nick wore to the tan ones Tom favored.

"I like these."

"Are you sure? I thought you wanted a hat like Nick's."

"No." Heath slipped his hand into Tom's. "I want one like you wear."

Tom ruffled the boy's hair. "One like I wear, huh, pardner? All right then, you shall have one like I wear."

Heath wore his hat and boots out of the store. Tom piled the rest of their purchases in the back of the wagon then took his son by the hand and led him across the street to the Chocolate Drop.

Heath had been with them one week. By no means had Nick warmed to him yet, but you wouldn't have known it by Heath's devotion to his older brother. He made certain Tom bought an equal number of chocolates for Nick. He took the two bags his father handed him.

"I'll keep Nick's safe for him until we get home."

"I'm sure Nick will appreciate that."

"I'd save some of mine for Audra, but I don't suppose she eats chocolate yet. I don't think she has any teeth."

Tom smiled as the boy skipped ahead of him. Heath was so relaxed when the two of them were alone together. He hoped some of this magic lasted when they returned to the ranch. The child was still shy and reserved around Victoria. Though she didn't comment on it, Tom could tell Heath's demeanor bothered her. She'd always been such a loving mother, such a strong presence in her children's lives. He knew she must be wondering why Heath had erected a barrier around himself where she was concerned.

Heath talked nonstop about the sights he'd seen in Stockton on their ride home. He shared his chocolates with his father until Tom declined to take any more.

"I bought those for you."

"I don't mind sharing. It's more fun that way."

Tom looked at his son, marveling at this kind-hearted child Leah Thomson had raised all by herself.

"Well, in that case I'll take another one." Tom popped a chocolate in his mouth, caught it on the end of his tongue, and stuck it back out at Heath. The eight year old laughed the first real laugh Tom had heard since they'd met one another.

"This has been the best day I ever had."

Tom worked the candy back in his mouth. "Really?"

"Yep."

"What was the best part of it? Your new hat? Or the boots? Or the chocolates?"

Heath leaned into Tom's side. "Being with you. That was the best part of it. Just the two of us together."

Tom wrapped an arm around the boy. "Well, thank you, Heath. You don't know how good that makes me feel."

"You're welcome." Softly, as though he was afraid he'd be punished, the boy added, "Papa."

This was the first time Heath had addressed his father by any name at all.

"Is that what you'd like to call me?"

"If that's all right. I've always wanted to call someone that. My friend Tony at the Strawberry school, that's what he calls his father. I always liked Tony's papa. He was nice to me."

"I'm glad to hear that. Tony's papa sounds like a good man. I'd be proud to have you call me Papa."

"I'd call you Father like Nick does, only I don't think Nick would like that too much."

"How come?"

"I don't know," Heath shrugged. "I just don't."

The pair traveled in silence for a few minutes. Although Heath didn't offer to explain what he meant, Tom realized in that one sentence how perceptive the child was to the events occurring around him.

"Heath, you're a very generous boy as evidenced by your willingness to share your candy with not only me, but with Audra as well. Nick,......well right now Nick is having a little difficulty sharing me with you. In time that will change."

"That's okay. I know I'm just an orphan boy. Not like Nick. He's your real boy."

Tom pulled back on the reins. When the horses stopped he looked down at his son.

"Who told you that?"

"My Uncle Matt."

"When did he say this?"

"The day we left Strawberry. He came to see me at Rachel's house. He said you'd never love me like you love your other boys. That I'm just a charity case."

"Son, you have to believe me when I tell you that isn't so. What your Uncle Matt said was wrong. You are my real boy, Heath. Just as much as Jarrod is and as much as Nick is. I love all my sons equally."

"And Audra, too?"

"Yes, and Audra, too. I love all my children. And when I say all my children that means you as well."

"I thought that might be true."

"You did?"

"Yep. Because if it wasn't true you wouldn't have bought me these crackerjack boots and this hat."

Tom pulled Heath to his side. He lifted the cowboy hat and placed a firm kiss on Heath's head. "It is true, Heath. And don't you ever forget it."

Heath turned in the wagon seat. He wrapped his arms around Tom's neck. The man felt Heath's lips brush his cheek.

"I won't forget it, Papa."

Tom Barkley smiled the rest of the way home.

Heath jumped from the wagon when it stopped in front of the house. He ran around to the back, taking the packages Tom handed him. Together they entered the house laden with the new clothes. Heath set his bundles on the marble table in the parlor. He spotted Nick figuring cattle prices at the dining room table.

"Nick! Nick! Look what Papa bought me. Boots just like yours! And I got candy for you, too."

Nick brushed the white bag aside. "I don't want any candy."

"But it's yours. I asked Papa to buy,..."

"He's not Papa! That sounds stupid. We call him Father."

Heath shrank back as though he'd been slapped.

"Nicholas!"

Nick turned at the sound of Tom's voice.

"Well, it does sound stupid. That's not your name."

"If that's what Heath wants to call me then it is my name. At least to him it is."

"That comes as no surprise." Nick shoved his chair aside. He took in Heath's new boots and hat, and then the packages piled high on the table. "Evidently Heath gets whatever Heath wants."

"Nicholas Jonathan, in all your years on this earth I have never taken my belt to your backside and it's been a good long time since you felt my hand there as well. I thought you were too grownup to receive a child's punishment, but now I'm beginning to doubt that. Let me warn you right now, young man, if your attitude doesn't change my belt and your hide are going to hold a meeting."

"Go ahead! I don't care and it won't change how I feel." Nick glared at his younger brother. "Nothing's been the same since we found out about him anyway." The glare was transferred to Tom. "And need I remind you, Father, that certainly isn't my fault."

"I have had enough of your mouth, young man." Tom's right hand reached for his belt buckle. Heath ran to him.

"No, Papa! No! Please don't beat Nick!"

"I'm not going to beat him. I'm simply going to give him what he's asking for. A good old-fashioned spanking."

"No! I don't want you to! You can take me back to Strawberry. I'll live with Rachel. It'll be better that way for everyone!"

Victoria entered from the kitchen.

"What will be better for everyone? And what's all the yelling about?"

The anger radiating between Tom and Nick told Victoria the story more clearly than words could have. She saw Tom's hand resting on his belt buckle.

"Tom? Nick?"

Victoria's teenager brushed by her. "Ask Papa."

"Nick!" Tom yelled.

The teenager never turned around.

"If you want to wale on me with your belt you know where to find me. I'll be in the barn."

When the kitchen door slammed Victoria turned to her husband.

"Did you tell him you were going to take your belt to him?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I told him. And if I do he deserves every wallop he gets with it."

"No, Papa. Please. Don't beat Nick."

Any questions Victoria had were easily answered by the packages she saw heaped on the table, the new boots and hat Heath was wearing, and his use of the word papa.

"Tom,......"

The man held up a hand. "Victoria, no. Not right now. I don't want to hear it."

"I was simply going to suggest that perhaps it would be wise if both you and Nick cool off a bit before you have any type of,.....discussion with him."

"I should have my discussion with him now, while I'm still good and angry."

"And I think you should wait."

Heath's eyes traveled from one adult to the other. For the moment he'd been forgotten.

A long silence prevailed before Tom turned on one boot heel.

"I'm going for a ride. I need to check those fences along the north pasture. I'll be back in time for dinner."

Heath flinched when the front door slammed. He backed away from Victoria as though he knew he was the cause of the most recent upset and was fearful she would punish him for it.

Victoria crossed to the window and watched Tom ride away. She'd almost forgotten Heath was still in the room with her. When she turned around and caught sight of him she tried hard to smile and push aside her concerns over Tom and Nick.

"I see you and your papa had a successful shopping trip."

Like he always did when Victoria spoke to him Heath hung his head. "Yes, ma'am."

"Come along then. Show me what you bought while I help you put it away."

"I can put it away by myself."

"You don't want me to help you?"

"I can do it by myself, ma'am."

"All right then," Victoria sighed. "But will you at least let me get Silas to help you hang up your new shirts so they don't wrinkle?"

"Yes, ma'am. If that's what you want, ma'am."

Victoria had to admit it hurt her to see Heath so willingly climb the stairs with Silas while offering the black man a piece of his candy.

What am I doing wrong, Lord? Why does this little boy dislike me so?

The woman stood at the bottom of the stairs long after Silas came down and reported all the clothes had been neatly stowed in their proper places. She could see Heath's door open just far enough for an eight year old boy to peer through the crack. She had no doubt he was looking to see if she was within sight. She waited a long time before finally walking away. It didn't surprise her to hear a set of boot heels tread down the stairs seconds after she'd rounded the corner of the study, nor was she surprised when she heard the front door open and shut.

For the first time since Heath arrived the Barkley family attended church. As Victoria dressed that Sunday morning she found herself dreading the moment she and Tom would appear together in public with their new son in tow. She was certain word had gotten around Stockton by now as to Heath's origins. Nothing made for better gossip than a scandal befalling a well-to-do family. She wondered how they'd be greeted by their friends and neighbors, but decided no matter what she'd hold her head high and make it clear her loyalties remained with her husband.

Victoria couldn't help but conclude the minister's sermon had been written especially with them in mind. His topic was family. Victoria didn't think she'd ever heard the man preach with more passion.

"We often think of the word 'family' as being narrowly defined by the people we sit across the breakfast table from morning after morning. But a true family is forever changing and growing. Sometimes that change is defined by a new member joining the family, sometimes change occurs when a loved one is called to heaven. More than anything else, family is a feeling. A feeling of being connected by the same roots, the same bonds, the same shared experiences."

The minister smiled at Heath before his eyes took in the congregation. "Most of all the word family means love. And God's book tells us love knows no boundaries. Love doesn't care who our mother is, or who our father is. Love comes from the heart. In your lifetimes all of you will give love to many people. Not all those people will be related to you by blood, nonetheless the feeling of family will exist between you. Take that feeling with you as you leave today. Remember that your neighbors make up part of your family as well. Your community family. Remember God's command, love thy neighbor as you would love thyself. Your neighbor may make mistakes, but forgive him for being human just as you would want him to forgive you."

Victoria thought the handshakes and smiles bestowed on her in the church yard were filled with more warmth and kindness than usual. She saw sympathy in the eyes of a few women, and pity in the eyes of two or three, but for the most part she was given silent support from the friends she and Tom had known for so long.

Opal Manners had been Victoria's best friend since they were girls growing up together in Philadelphia. The woman managed to pull Victoria away from the crowd, the two walking toward the Barkley carriage together.

"Oh, Victoria, I wanted to stop by and see you all week, but Garland kept telling me to keep my nose out of things that are none of my business."

"The next time Garland tells you that you tell him I want a visit from my dearest friend. I certainly could have used your ear this week."

"Are things going poorly?"

"That's a hard question to answer."

Opal glanced over her shoulder. Heath was holding onto Tom's hand while the man stood talking to Garland and other ranchers.

"Has the boy been a trial?"

"Heath? No. Not at all." Victoria shifted the sleeping Audra from her hip to her shoulder. "As a matter of fact he's a very well behaved child."

"He looks just like Tom's father. And like Thor. He's the spitting image of Thor."

"Yes, he does favor both his grandfather and uncle."

"He's a handsome little lad, that's for certain."

Victoria made no reply.

"Victoria?"

"What? Pardon me?"

"I said Heath is a handsome boy." Opal studied her friend. "Victoria Barkley, something is wrong. Now don't lie to me and tell me things are okay when the look on your face tells me the exact opposite is true." The woman dropped her voice. "I know you must be furious with Tom. So hurt by what he did."

"I am. I'm furious, I'm hurt, I'm,....a thousand things I can't identify. But I'm slowly learning to forgive him. Nick on the other hand,......Nick is angry with his father and angry with Heath. It's been a difficult week to put it mildly."

"I'm sure it has. And I'm sure you'll have some difficult weeks yet to come. It's not easy for any child to adjust to a new brother or sister. You have to look at it from Nick's point of view. With Jarrod gone away to college he was the only son at home. Heath's presence has changed that fact, and changed Nick's place as youngest son in the family."

"There you go again, springing your own special brand of,....what do you call it? Psychology? Springing your psychology on me. Really, Opal, you must quit ordering those books from Boston."

"Laugh at me all you want, but it's true. A large part of a child's personality is based on his or her position in the family. That's why my Franklin had such a difficult time when the twins were born. Not only was he no longer the baby of the family, he was also no longer the only boy."

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm sure Nick will eventually adjust." Victoria's eyes traveled until she spotted her teenager at the far side of the church yard. Normally he would be right beside Tom taking part in whatever discussions the man was having with his fellow ranchers. But not this Sunday. On this Sunday it was Heath who stood beside Tom while Nick elected to stay as far away from his father and brother as possible. Victoria absorbed the significance of this as she finished her sentence. "He has no choice in the matter. Heath isn't going anywhere."

"What about you? Do you have a choice?"

Victoria swayed back and forth, rubbing Audra's back with her palm. "If you're asking me if I'm leaving Tom the answer is no. If you're asking me if the thought has crossed my mind, then the answer is yes. But for a lot of reasons I've chosen to stick by him. Number one; because he made a mistake and I know he loves me. He's made that quite clear these past few weeks. And number two, because right now, more than any other time in his life, Nick needs to see his mother and father as a united front. When I first found out about Tom's,......relationship with Heath's mother, I considered taking Nick and Audra to Philadelphia, but you know as well as I do Nick would hate living there. Absolutely hate it. He loves the ranch. Ranching is all he's talked about making his life's work since he was six years old. And he's at an age where his father is the most influential person in his life. I'd be doing more harm than good if that's the choice I made, Opal."

"I couldn't agree with you more." The woman looked up to see her husband waving her to their buggy. "I've got to go. When are you putting Heath in school?"

"He starts tomorrow."

"Good. I've already told Rhodes and Raleigh they're to make Heath feel welcome."

"Thank you. You don't know how much that means to me."

Opal kissed Victoria's cheek. "I'll stop by on Wednesday after the children are off to school. I'm sure we have a lot more to talk about."

"I'm sure we do, too. I'll have Silas make us lunch. Tom has an appointment here in town that day. We'll have the house to ourselves. We can rattle on like a couple of old biddies all afternoon."

"Good. I have a feeling that's just what the doctor ordered."

Opal gave Victoria's hand a squeeze, placed a light kiss in Audra's curls, then gathered her skirts and hurried for her husband's buggy. Victoria watched as Opal climbed in amongst her two daughters and three sons. The girls were young ladies now of eighteen and nineteen. Franklin was a year younger than Nick and one of his closest friends, the twins were Heath's age. Victoria prayed Heath would quickly form a bond with Rhodes and Raleigh.

Maybe things between Heath and Nick will improve if they share a friendship with Opal's boys.

Before Victoria could ponder that further it was time for her own family to be loaded in the Barkley carriage.

Later that afternoon Victoria stumbled upon Heath sitting on the parlor floor playing with Audra. She stepped back into the shadows of the dining room, listening to the one sided conversation he was having with the baby.

"Reverend Miller is nice, Audra. He shook my hand after the service and told me he was glad to meet me. He didn't stare at me, or point at me, or whisper behind my back, like some of the other people did. He even said I look like you. Do you think that's true? I guess it might be. We both have blond hair. No one else has blond hair, not Nick or Papa. I don't know what color hair Jarrod has 'cause I haven't met him yet. I hope he wants to be my friend. Nick,......I want Nick to be my friend, but he doesn't like me much. " Heath stacked another wooden block on the tower he was making for his little sister. "Reverend Miller preached a good service. He's not boring like Reverend Holmes is. Reverend Holmes preaches at the Strawberry church. He puts everyone to sleep, even Rachel. Though she'll deny it if you ever come right out and ask her. But Reverend Miller, I liked him. He talked about family and how lots of different people can be a part of your family. I knew what he meant 'cause me and Hannah and Rachel were a family after my mother died. I really miss them, Audra. They took good care of me, and I took good care of them, too. Rachel told me so. Lots of times she did. But now I'm part of your family even though Papa's the only one who wants me here. Maybe you want me here, too, but you're too little to tell me that just yet. Maybe you'll tell me someday, huh?"

Victoria slipped up behind the boy. "When Audra is older I'm sure she will tell you how much she wants you here."

Heath jumped, knocking over his tower before Audra got the opportunity. The baby squealed with delight at this new game while the boy scrambled to his feet, words spewing out his mouth in a panic.

"I didn't give her anything she shouldn't have. I didn't feed her, or try to pick her up, or let her play with anything sharp."

"Honey, that's fine," Victoria soothed, not certain why Heath was suddenly so frightened. "You can play with Audra any time you like."

Victoria reached for Heath but he backed away from her.

"I've got chores to do. Chief and Cheyenne need to be fed."

The woman dropped her hands. She tried to keep the hurt off her face. She couldn't quite keep it out of her voice.

"All right. You go ahead then."

As usual when he was alone with Victoria, Heath fled the room as fast as his legs would carry him.

Victoria shook her head as she eased herself to Audra's blanket.

"All I wanted to do was tell your brother that I want him here as well. Why won't he give me a chance, Audra?" Victoria put the baby on her lap. She rocked back and forth while placing a kiss on the top of Audra's head.

"Oh, why won't Heath give me a chance?"

Tom Barkley drove his sons to school on Monday morning. That event caused another eruption of Nick's temper. The teen had been riding a horse to school from the first day he started when he was six years old. Nick scowled as he helped his father ready the wagon.

"You never took me to school on my first day."

Tom looked across the horse he was harnessing. "That's because you didn't want me to. You insisted on riding Ginger along side Jarrod."

"Why can't Heath ride Ginger then and I'll ride Coco?"

"That's how we'll do things tomorrow if Heath wants to. But for today we're doing things my way."

"Why?"

"Nicholas,....."

"I'm just asking why."

"You know perfectly well why. This is Heath's first day at a school where he knows no one other than you. I think it will be easier for him if together, you and I, introduce him to Miss Wellington and the other pupils."

"I still don't understand why I have to be a part of this. Why can't I go on ahead and meet up with my friends like I do any other morning?"

Tom took a deep breath. Jarrod had never given him these kinds of problems when he was Nick's age, nor did Tom recall ever giving his own father any back talk. But Thor,.....well Thor had been another story and Nick was just like his uncle in more ways than one.

"You have to be a part of this because whether you like it or not you're Heath's brother. End of discussion."

"Well, I don't like it. I don't like being Heath's brother one teeny tiny bit."

"Nick, I said end of discussion."

"But,..."

"Nicholas, that's enough."

Tom glared at his sullen teenager. His gaze shifted when he caught sight of Victoria in the doorway of the barn. Heath was with her carrying a new slate in one hand and the tin lunch bucket Jarrod had used in another. By the look on Victoria's face Tom knew she and the boy had been privy to Nick's words.

The rancher put on his best grin. "There's my boy. And don't you look just dandy on your first day of school."

Heath didn't say anything as Tom swung him up onto the wagon seat. Before Nick could escape to the back of the wagon Tom said, "Nick, you drive."

Indecision hung heavy in the air. There was nothing Nick liked more than driving a team of horses, yet his pride dictated that he wasn't allowed to find any enjoyment in this day.

Tom didn't stand for further argument. He climbed up on the seat next to Heath, leaving room for Nick to his left. He leaned over with the reins in his hand.

"Nick, come on. We need to get going."

Nick finally took the reins from his father and climbed up beside him. Victoria patted her teenager's leg. "Have a good day." She smiled at Heath. "You have a good day, too, Heath. I'm sure you'll come home with all sorts of wonderful stories about your new school."

Heath simply nodded his head. Whatever he was feeling inside about this adventure he'd kept to himself. He hadn't even allowed Tom to draw him into a conversation about attendance at Stockton's school no matter how many times Tom had tried to bring the subject up.

Tom timed the trip so he and his sons would arrive at the school house before any other children were there. Nick insisted on waiting in the school yard for his friends while Tom took Heath inside to introduce him to Miss Wellington. The father allowed his teenager this much. He wasn't in the mood for any more tension between himself and his son.

Stockton's teacher was nineteen years old with hair the color of burnished copper and laughing Irish green eyes to match. She barely reached Tom's chest in height, and had the fine bones of a filly. This was her second year at Stockton's school and she was loved by all her pupils. The little ones adored her because she made learning fun and was devoted to them and their well-being. The older girls admired her and wanted to be just like her, while the older boys had crushes on this beautiful young woman who hailed from New York City.

Tom was president of the school board and had been instrumental in bringing Kathleen Wellington to them. He was pleased with her performance thus far and could only pray she wouldn't marry any time soon and leave them.

Miss Wellington turned from the blackboard when she heard footsteps on the wooden floor.

"Mr. Barkley." The girl stepped out from behind her desk. "How nice to see you. And this must be Heath."

Tom had spoken to the teacher the previous week. Although he'd said no more than, "I'd like to enroll my eight year old son, Heath, to start school on Monday," gossip had already reached the young woman's ears in regards to Heath's sudden appearance. That made no difference to Kathleen. She loved her pupils and wasn't concerned with the circumstances that brought them to her.

"Yes," Tom confirmed now. "This is Heath. Heath, this is Miss Wellington."

Heath held his hand out to the teacher. "How do you do, ma'am?"

"I'm fine, Heath. Thank you for asking. Your father tells me the teacher at the Strawberry school said you're advanced in your sums and reading."

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's excellent, Heath. Positively excellent. You'll be a big help to me with some of the younger pupils. Would you like to be a tutor?"

"I can be if you want me to. I helped my friends, Tony and John, at the Strawberry school. They didn't know how to read very well and they had problems with their sums. Sometimes Mr. Evans would ask me to take them to the back of the room and work with them."

"That's wonderful. I can already tell you're the kind of boy I can rely on." The teacher took Heath's hand, for the moment Tom was forgotten.

"Now this is where you'll sit. Raleigh and Rhodes Manner will share this desk with you. And over here is where we put our lunch buckets. And the cloak room is right there, behind that door."

Miss Wellington had Heath set his slate on his desk and put his lunch bucket on the shelf at the back of the room.

"Why don't you go outside until I ring the bell. I see some of the other children are arriving. I'm sure Nick will introduce you to them."

Heath turned to look at Tom. The man gave his son an encouraging smile. "Go on and play until school starts. You met Raleigh and Rhodes at church yesterday. I know they'll be waiting for you. I'll be back at the end of the day to pick you and Nick up."

Heath gave his father a smile that didn't do a good job of covering his fear. Tom could only imagine how scared he must be at the prospect of facing all those strange children. The man walked over and bent down.

"You'll be fine, Heath. Why I bet by the end of the day you'll have made friends with every child in this school."

Heath didn't tell his father what he was thinking. So far he hadn't even been able to make friends with Nick.

The boy turned and headed out the door. The sounds of laughter and shouts drifted in to Tom and Miss Wellington until the door was closed behind Heath.

"He'll be all right, Mr. Barkley," the young teacher assured. "Entering a new school is difficult for any child. But the records you brought me from Strawberry indicate Heath is a bright child who makes friends easily. It won't take him long to fit in."

"I'm sure it won't." Tom tipped his hat to the woman. "Thank you for taking the time to make him feel welcome. If you have any problems I'll be here at three to pick the boys up."

"Now don't you worry, I'm sure there won't be any problems. Or at least not any I can't handle."

Tom left without saying anything further to either of his sons. Nick was playing stick ball with a group of teenage boys while Heath watched. Tom wished his eight year old would join the other boys his age who were playing hot potato in another section of the school yard, but decided not to interfere. No doubt Miss Wellington was correct. By the end of the day Heath would have more friends than he could count.

Ten minutes after Tom left Miss Wellington stepped out on the porch with a bell in her hand. She gave it six healthy rings. In groups of twos and threes her pupils headed for the school house save for Heath. He walked alone, lagging behind the four boys and three girls who were nearest his age.

Nick turned when he heard footsteps pound from behind. George Barnsworth joined Nick and his friends.

"Hey, Barkley, is that mangy little pup walkin' ahead of us your father's bastard?"

Franklin Manners glared at the bulky fifteen year old. "Shut up, George."

George ignored the younger boy. "How 'bout it, Barkley? Whatta ya' have to say on the subject? Is the kid your father's mistake?"

Heath turned around and looked at Nick. Nick refused to meet his brother's eyes when he dropped his own to the ground and mumbled, "Yeah. Yeah, that's about the size of it."

George gave Heath a shove as the older boys passed him.

"Bastard."

The eight year old stood alone, watching his schoolmates trot up the steps. Miss Wellington waved him over.

"Come on, Heath! It's time for school to start."

She gave Heath's shoulder a squeeze when he walked by her. She hadn't heard the exchange between George and Nick, but had observed it from afar. She'd also observed the shove George had given Heath. She didn't have to be close enough to hear George's words to be able to guess what was said. Every school had a bully and George Barnsworth was Stockton's. Whenever he thought she wasn't looking he pulled girls' pigtails, dropped frogs down dresses, slipped snakes into coat pockets, and put his foot in the aisle to trip a child who'd been called to the blackboard. She generally broke up fights between him and Nick Barkley at least once every two weeks. Though she had to be fair and punish both boys when these incidents occurred, she hated having to keep Nick after school. She couldn't fault him for defending a younger boy George was picking on or coming to the honor of a girl whose skirts George was trying to peek under. That's why she'd been shocked when Nick had allowed George to shove Heath. At that moment she was certain she'd see a fist fight of violent proportions ensue. But Nick simply headed for the school house as though nothing happened.

For now Miss Wellington filed the incident away in the back of her mind. She led Heath to the bench seat he'd share with the Manners twins, then walked to the front of the class. The young teacher opened her Bible and instructed everyone to stand. They began the day by saying the 23rd Psalm. She watched Heath stand with his classmates, though his mouth didn't move throughout the entire recitation. A lesser teacher might have called the child on his seeming defiance, but Miss Wellington didn't.

After all, how could she discipline a little boy who was trying so hard not to cry?

The next morning Heath and Nick rode to school on their horses. Tom Barkley wasn't certain if that's what Heath really wanted to do. He got the impression the boy was simply trying to please his fourteen year old brother.

"I can hitch up the wagon and we can ride into town together, Heath. Nick can go ahead on Coco if he prefers."

"No, that's okay, Papa. I can ride Ginger."

Tom didn't debate the point further. He thought it would be good for both boys if they traveled back and forth to school together. Maybe some of Nick's animosity would recede if he was given the opportunity to get to know Heath on his own terms.

Unbeknownst to Tom, Nick had no intention of getting to know Heath. He dug his heals into Coco's sides and stayed thirty feet ahead of his brother throughout the entire trip to school. The boys tied their horses to a hitching post under a shade tree. Nick went and got a bucket of water from the well in order to fill the trough while Heath readied the feed pouches they'd brought along. The horses were tended to in silence. When the animals had been watered and the feed pouches attached to their halters the boys retrieved their books and lunch tins from their saddle bags.

George Barnsworth ran by them. He knocked Heath in the back of the head with his fist while calling to Nick.

"Hey, Barkley, come on! Let's get a game of stick ball going! Leave the work to the kid! After all, no one's gonna want to play with him anyway!"

Heath bent down to pick up his cowboy hat. By the time he had it settled back on his head Nick was playing ball with the older boys.

George had fun at Heath's expense throughout the day. The boy was tripped on his way to the blackboard, his lunch bucket was hidden and his horse untied. Fortunately Ginger had been coming to Stockton's school since Jarrod was boy so didn't wander more than a few feet from Coco.

At the end of that second day Heath passed George on his way down the school house steps. The older boy matched strides with the younger.

"So, kid, when Miss Wellington takes roll I hear her call you Heath Barkley. But Barkley ain't your real name now, is it? I hear tell your name is Heath Thomson. And if it's Heath Thomson, how can you go around claimin' to be a Barkley? 'Course everyone knows the Barkleys got loads of money so maybe you're not as dumb as you look, huh? As a matter of fact you might be one of the luckiest little bastards around. On the other hand, I bet Mrs. Barkley ain't none too happy you showed up. I hear tell she don't like you one bit. Not that anyone can blame her. You're living proof that her husband had himself some big time fun outside the sacred marital bed. Whatta ya' got to say about that?"

Heath kept his eyes on the ground as he walked toward Ginger.

George back peddled in front of the eight year old and rammed a fist into his shoulder. "What was that? I didn't hear you."

Again Heath made no reply.

"What's the problem? Are you the family retard? Man, wouldn't that be something. Everyone's brags on Jarrod cause he's got more brains than just about anyone in Stockton, and Nick,.....well Nick ain't far behind Jarrod in the smarts department, that's for sure. And everyone knows Tom Barkley ain't no dummy. But I do say it looks like he got himself a dummy for a bastard son."

George pushed Heath backwards. The boy stumbled over his feet. Before he could regain his balance he was pushed again. Two more hard shoves landed him on his rear end in the dirt.

A thick wad of spittle kicked up the dust by Heath's head. George sneered down at the blond.

"You really are a retard, you know that?"

It wasn't Nick who came to Heath's aid, but rather his new friends Raleigh and Rhodes. Raleigh helped him to his feet while Rhodes collected Heath's school books. Nick made no comment about what he'd seen happen until he and Heath were stabling their horses at the Barkley ranch. As the teenager was walking out of the barn he turned.

"You're going to have to learn to take care of yourself against the likes of George Barnsworth, 'cause if you think I'm gonna get in a fight for you you'd better think again."

Heath watched his brother until Nick disappeared into the house. The boy let out a heavy sigh, then finished currying Ginger.

Two weeks after Heath started school Miss Wellington paid the Barkley ranch a visit on a Saturday afternoon.

Silas motioned Victoria to stay seated as he passed through the parlor on the way to the door.

"Miss Wellington," the black man greeted. "Won't you come in, ma'am."

Victoria set her book down on the coffee table and stood. She met the young teacher half way across the foyer floor, briefly clasping her hand.

"Miss Wellington. How nice to see you."

"It's nice to see you, too, Mrs. Barkley. And I do apologize for dropping by without an invitation."

"You never need an invitation to drop by my home and you know it."

Victoria turned to Silas. "Please put on some tea, Silas. And bring a tray of cookies."

"Yes, ma'am."

"There's no need to go to any trouble on my behalf, Mrs. Barkley."

"It's no trouble at all," Silas assured the woman for his mistress.

Victoria led the teacher to the sofa.

"I hope I didn't come at a bad time."

"No. Not at all. Audra is upstairs napping and Tom is in the study reading the latest Cattlemen's Journal. But if you're here to see the boys I'm afraid you've missed them. Nick is tracking down strays with some of the hands and Heath is playing with Rhodes and Raleigh over at the Manners ranch."

"Actually I'm glad to hear that. I wanted to talk to you and Mr. Barkley alone."

"Oh?"

"Yes. It's about Heath."

"I see." Victoria stood. "Wait here just a moment please while I get my husband."

"Of course."

Within seconds Victoria returned with Tom. He shook the teacher's hand then took a seat across from her. Victoria helped Silas carry in the tea and cookies. She played the part of hostess, seeing that everyone got a cup of tea and plate of sugar cookies. The trio made small talk while they enjoyed the snack. Tom waited until the teacher had finished her tea and refused seconds before broaching the reason behind her visit.

"My wife tells me you wanted to speak to us about Heath."

"Yes, I did. Though now that I'm here I,......well I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds."

"Overstepping your bounds?"

"Yes. By coming here to tell you what I've observed."

Tom smiled in an attempt to put the young woman at ease. "You're Heath's teacher. It's your place to tell us, as his parents, what you've observed. I hope he's not causing you any trouble."

"Heath?"

Victoria heard the astonishment in the teacher's tone.

"Oh my goodness no. He's such a sweet child. And just as smart as his school records from Strawberry indicate. A little on the shy side, but I suppose that's normal considering he's come to a new school in the middle of the term."

"He's a little on the shy side here at home, too," Tom said. "But then I suppose that's normal considering we're new to him as well."

"You can rest assured Heath's school work has been exemplary. I don't believe you'll have reason to be concerned in that area."

"Then where do we have reason to be concerned?" Victoria asked.

"I,.....I don't know if you have reason to be concerned at all. However, as you know the well-being of my pupils is of the utmost importance to me. So again, forgive me if I'm overstepping my bounds by coming here today."

"You don't need to be forgiven for anything, Kathleen," Tom assured. "Why don't you simply tell Victoria and me what's on your mind."

The woman thought a long moment before speaking. "Perhaps I've been misleading when I say my concern is for Heath. Actually, I've come to speak to you about Nick as well."

"Nick?"

"Yes. As both of you know I've broken up several fights between Nick and George Barnsworth during my year and half at the school."

Victoria tried not to smile. "As have all the teachers prior to your arrival."

"Yes,....well,.....I know this is going to sound rather absurd, but what has me upset this time is the fact that Nick isn't fighting with George."

Tom cocked his head. "Pardon?"

"Though I try hard to like all my pupils, I must admit George is a trail. I'm told every school has a George Barnsworth. A mean-spirited bully shall we say."

"Yes," Tom nodded, "if I recall my own school days correctly I would have to agree with that statement."

"Therefore, it will probably come as no surprise to you that George has taken to picking on Heath. He started the first day Heath was with us and he has yet to let up."

"Picking on Heath how?" Victoria asked.

"Shoving him. Tripping him. Untying his horse. Hiding his lunch bucket, things of that nature. The frustrating part of it is I rarely see George do these things. He's a sneaky boy who knows how to cause trouble on the sly. Nonetheless, I have no doubt George is the instigator behind these pranks. And I've heard him say some nasty things to Heath out on the school yard."

"Nasty things?" Tom asked. "What kind of nasty things?"

The teacher's eyes flicked to Victoria. "Just,.......things."

"Miss Wellington,.....Kathleen," Victoria smiled. "You can repeat whatever it is you've heard. You won't offend me or my husband by telling us what George has been saying to Heath."

"He,....." Kathleen didn't know how to start. After all, Heath was the product of Tom Barkley's affair. How could she lay such a sensitive subject on the table in a diplomatic way?

"Go ahead, Kathleen," Victoria urged. "Tell us please. We can't help Heath unless you do."

The young woman nodded. "George,....he teases Heath about his parentage. I've heard George call him the 'Barkley retard' and the 'Barkley mistake'. Mind you this has never been done in the school house, but always before or after class out in the yard. I have spoken to George about it but that only seems to make matters worse. I've contemplated punishing him, but I'm afraid he'll only lash out more severely at Heath if I do."

Tom shifted in his chair and set his cup on the coffee table. "And where has Nick been when all this is going on?"

"Out on the school yard as well."

"So he's heard and observed the same things you have."

"Yes."

"And that's why you've come to talk to us today," Tom said. "You're upset because Nick isn't defending his brother's honor. Because Nick is allowing George to have his say."

"Yes. Though I'm not blaming Nick. Like I said, I can hardly punish Nick for not fighting with George. I just find it,.....odd that he isn't."

Tom chewed on his lower lip a long time. He had no immediate solution to offer the teacher. She seemed to sense as much and rose.

"I've taken up enough of your Saturday afternoon. I must be going. I promised Mr. and Mrs. Harris I'd come for supper this evening."

Tom stood and shook the teacher's hand. "Thank you for coming all the way out here to speak with us. I appreciate your insight."

"You're welcome. And I can assure you I'll keep an eye on George where Heath is concerned. I try to look out for all my students, but with twenty-six that task isn't always as easy as I'd like it to be."

"No, I'm sure it's not. Which is exactly why Heath has an older brother who should be looking out for him."

"Please don't come down too hard on Nick, Mr. Barkley. Like I said, we can't really fault him for not getting into a fight. I'm sure this situation has been difficult on him." The teacher's face reddened as she realized her slip of the tongue. "On all of you."

Victoria stood and put an arm around the young woman's shoulders. "Yes, it has been difficult for Nick no doubt. And don't you worry, we don't blame him for anything. Like my husband said, we appreciate you coming out here to talk to us. Now why don't you pencil in dinner right here on the Barkley ranch for next Saturday night. We'd love to have you come on a social visit. Nick really enjoyed it the last time you were here. I'm sure both he and Heath will want to engage you in a game of checkers while hearing all about life in New York City."

"Thank you, Mrs. Barkley. As always, you're too kind."

Victoria led the teacher to the door. When it had closed behind the woman she turned to see her husband staring into the fireplace. She walked up beside him and snaked an arm around his waist.

"What are you thinking?"

"That my foolish actions have caused an eight year old boy an untold amount of pain. That my foolish actions have caused a fourteen year old boy an untold amount of pain." The man planted a light kiss in his wife's hair. "And that my foolish actions have caused the woman I love an untold amount of pain."

The couple stood together until Victoria heard a wail from above.

"It sounds like Audra's awake. What are you going to say to Nick when he gets home?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I can't make him fight for Heath, Victoria. As much as I hate to say this I can't make him love his little brother. Those are things Nick will be drawn to do naturally in time, or they won't be. I can't predict what the future holds for any of us. And if anyone should be punished for this heartache it should be me."

Without saying another word Tom walked away from his wife, his shoulders slumped in sorrow and defeat. He entered his study and closed the door.

Victoria hesitated before climbing the stairs to Audra. She wanted to offer her husband comfort, but had no idea what words to say that hadn't already been said many times since Heath arrived.

Heath had been with the Barkley family two months as Christmas approached. He continued to excel in school, though his problems with George Barnsworth hadn't ceased. Yet Heath never spoke of the bully to Tom, nor how much it hurt him when Nick pretended not to hear George's teasing.

Despite Victoria's best efforts Heath remained aloof in her presence. She had been certain that by now he would have come to accept her as his surrogate mother. Yet he never spoke to her unless she spoke to him first, and he never allowed himself to be in the house alone with her.

Aside from Tom, Audra, and Silas, the only other members of the Barkley household Heath appeared to be comfortable with were Jarrod's dogs and their offspring. Without fail he fed and watered the brood every morning and every evening. If he wasn't playing with the puppies, or cleaning horse stalls, then he could be found in the tack room straightening and sweeping.

On December twenty-second Tom hitched up the buggy and went to town to meet Jarrod's train. Silas and Victoria worked together in the kitchen cooking all Jarrod's favorite foods. Nick lingered around the house and ranch yard, anxiously awaiting his older brother's arrival while Heath retreated to the barn without anyone noticing he was gone.

At the first sight of the black buggy entering through the main gates Nick raced into the steamed filled kitchen. "They're coming, Mother! They're coming!"

Victoria scooped Audra up off the floor. She was four steps behind Nick all the way to the front door.

Jarrod had barely emerged from the buggy before he was thrown backwards by the force of Nick's body.

"Jarrod! Jarrod!"

"Easy there," Jarrod laughed while engulfing his younger brother in a bear hug. When he finally got the teenager to loosen his grip he took a step back with his hands firmly grasping Nick's upper arms.

"Nicholas, you've grown a foot since I left for school. I do believe you'll be taller than me when I come back again next summer."

Before Nick could reply Victoria launched herself into the arms of her eldest child.

"Jarrod! Oh, sweetheart, it's so good to see you! We've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you, too, Mother." The young man gave his mother a kiss and long hug, then tweaked Audra's nose. "And look how big this beautiful little doll has gotten."

The baby held her arms out to her big brother. She let Jarrod take her from their mother, laughing and shrieking as he lifted her high above his head.

While Jarrod played with the little girl Tom asked, "Where's Heath?"

"I don't know." Victoria looked at Nick. "Was Heath in the house?"

"No."

Tom took a few steps from the buggy. "He's probably in the barn." The man cupped his hands over his mouth. "Heath! Heath!"

Just the hint of a blond head peered around a barn door.

"Heath, come here please."

Heath's steps were slow and tentative, eyes downcast, as if he wasn't sure how he'd be greeted by this 'new' brother. Jarrod met him half way across the yard and held out his hand.

"It's nice to finally get to meet you, Heath. I've heard so much about you."

Heath's eyes never lifted from the toes of Jarrod's boots as he mumbled, "Nice to meet you, too."

Jarrod exchanged a smile with his father, then crouched down. He placed two fingers under Heath's chin and gently urged the child to look at him.

"There now. That's better. I couldn't see anything but the top of your head. My, my, my, but don't you look like Grandpa Barkley."

"I don't know." Heath shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't met him yet. But maybe I kind of look like Audra."

"As a matter of fact I was just thinking that same thing myself. I can't wait to go back to school and tell my friends what a handsome young brother I have." Jarrod stood and took Heath's hand in his. "Father says you've been taking care of Chief and Cheyenne for me."

"Yes. And their puppies, too. I hope that's all right."

"It is, and I thank you for it."

"I named the puppies, but if you don't like their names you can change them."

"I'm sure I'll like them. Why don't you show them to me while you tell me all about them."

Heath kept his hand in Jarrod's as he led the college man toward the barn. He began describing the offspring of the animals Jarrod had bought from a fur trader the previous summer despite Tom's good natured protests that two sled dogs would be of little use on a cattle ranch.

"First there's Shone," Heath said. "She's a girl and she's very sweet. Then there's Wolf. I named him that because he's always stealing food from his brothers and sisters. The comes White Foot because he has four white paws, then Bear because he's fat and round and clumsy like a grizzly bear, then Little Maiden just because she's tiny and real pretty. I gave all of them Indian names because of Chief and Cheyenne."

"I couldn't have picked better names myself. I can't wait to meet them."

"I just finished feeding them and cleaning their pen. I wanted them to look nice for you as a welcome home present."

Jarrod gave Heath's hand a squeeze. "That's very kind of you, Heath. I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

The conversation faded as the two entered the barn. Tom turned and smiled at Victoria.

"It looks like Jarrod has already made a life long friend."

Though inside Victoria was hurting at Heath's instant attachment to Jarrod, she gave her husband a smile in return. "Yes, it does. But then that doesn't surprise me. Jarrod has his father's gift when it comes to putting people at ease."

Nick scowled as he reached into the back of the buggy and retrieved Jarrod's bags. "I sure hope he doesn't plan to spend his entire vacation with Heath. I was his brother first, you know."

"Yes, Nick," Tom stated quietly, "we know. And believe me, Jarrod knows that as well. He has plenty of activities planned for just the two of you. But please, allow him some time to get acquainted with Heath and Heath with him."

At the word 'activities' Nick perked up.

"Activities? What kind of activities?"

"Oh, I don't know. He mentioned something about the two of you going to the dance in town next Saturday evening. And he said he got an invitation to a New Year's Eve party at the Hansens' ranch that includes you."

Jarrod had been courting Melinda Hansen before he went to college. Nick was sweet on her youngest sister, Emily, who was in his class at school, though he was under the assumption his family was unaware of this last fact.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I would like to go to that party with Jarrod. Does Heath have to come with us?"

"No," Victoria shook her head. "The party is for young adults only. Franklin Manners was invited as well. Your father and I have asked Mr. and Mrs. Manners to come here for the evening. We'll have our own little party with Heath, the twins, and Audra."

"Good."

Nick trotted into the house with Jarrod's bags. Tom put an arm around his wife and daughter.

"It's good to see Nick happy again. I knew having Jarrod home would help settle him down."

"Yes, Jarrod has that effect on people. Which is exactly why he'll make an outstanding lawyer."

"I expect nothing less from him." Tom kissed his wife's temple. "But then he was raised by a wonderful mother. All the credit for the man he's become belongs to you and you alone."

"I wouldn't go quite that far, Tom Barkley."

"Don't even bother to argue with me, lady, because it will do you not one ounce of good."

"All right, if you put it that way I won't." Victoria turned for the house. "I need to help Silas finish the meal preparations. Your job is to make sure all your sons are gathered around the table promptly at six p.m."

"All my sons," Tom smiled. "That sounds wonderful."

With Christmas only three days away Victoria hoped things would remain wonderful throughout Jarrod's stay with them. Not that she had any concerns about her oldest son, but Nick was so jealous of Heath, and if Heath took to Jarrod and started tagging along after him,.......Victoria gave her head a mental shake. There was no use borrowing trouble.

Victoria watched as Tom disappeared into the barn. Nick flew out the front door and headed in that direction as well. The woman smiled to herself, wondering if she'd be able to keep track of four males throughout the next two weeks. She turned to her daughter.

"I do believe we'll have our work cut out for us, Audra."

For the first time since Heath had been with them supper was a merry event. When Jarrod saw the platters of food that stretched from one end of the dining table to the other he declared his mother and Silas had already cooked the Christmas feast. Jarrod's tales of college life kept everyone spellbound. He had a way of telling a story that made you laugh long before the punch line arrived.

When it came time for Heath to go to bed it was Jarrod who carried him up the stairs and read him a story. Tom engaged Nick in a game of checkers until Jarrod returned.

Tom looked up as his eldest entered the parlor.

"Heath asleep?"

"Sure is. He conked out half way through the book. I'll have to finish reading it to him tomorrow evening."

It didn't surprise Victoria when Jarrod seemed to sense Nick was now in need of his undivided attention. He clapped the fourteen year old on the back.

"Come on, Nicholas. Let's go see if there's any cake left out in the kitchen. Then you and I and Father can play a few hands of cards before we call it a night."

Victoria smiled at her oldest from where she sat rocking her youngest. Jarrod pointed a finger at her.

"And I'd like to request a private audience with you tomorrow, madam."

"I will grant you that request, kind sir, and look forward to your visit."

Victoria remained in the rocking chair with Audra sleeping on her shoulder. From her position she could see the card players at the dining room table. She hated herself for the thought that flitted through her mind when Nick laughed and teased his father over the poor hand Tom had just played.

This is just like how it used to be before Heath came to us. Nick was so happy.

We,......we were all so happy.

The family gathered together for breakfast the next morning. Tom pushed his empty plate aside and looked at Jarrod.

"What plans do you have for today?"

"If you don't need my help with anything specific I thought I'd go riding with my brothers."

Nick looked up from his eggs. "Heath, too?"

Jarrod cocked a teasing eyebrow. "I believe I said 'my brothers', Nick. As in plural. So yes, Heath is included, too."

"Aw, Jarrod, come on. Why can't it just be you and,...

Victoria cleared her throat and shot Nick a pointed look. Tom's eyes slid to Heath. The youngster was staring down at his plate, the expression on his shadowed face saying he wished he wasn't once again the source of conflict in his new home.

Nick started over, attempting to present his case with a bit more diplomacy and tact.

"What I mean is, Heath won't be able to keep up with us. You know how poky Ginger is."

"Then Heath and I will ride double on Jingo."

"But I wanted to show you the new breeding stock Father and I bought in September."

"And you can't show me that with Heath along?"

"It's not that. It's just that,....well, it's just that I thought you and I were going to spend some time together." Nick glared at the top of Heath's head. "Alone."

"We will." Jarrod took a sip of his coffee. "As a matter of fact I was planning on you accompanying me into Stockton tonight."

"For what?"

"Supper at the Cattlemen's Hotel then a trip to the general store."

"The general store?"

"I need to finish my Christmas shopping."

"Oh. Oh,....okay. Yeah. That sounds like fun."

Tom smiled. "Good idea, Jarrod. I'll dare to go out on a limb and guess Nick hasn't even begun his shopping yet."

The man wiped his mouth with a napkin. He stood and kissed the top of Heath's head as he passed.

"Have fun with your brothers today."

"Yes, sir."

He kissed Victoria on the mouth, then gave Audra's jam covered cheek a peck. When he came to Jarrod he squeezed the young man's shoulders while saying quietly in one ear, "Thank you. You're a lifesaver."

Nick's hair got a thorough tousling next, then Tom was out the door. Victoria instructed Heath and Nick to help Silas clear the table. She sat and visited with Jarrod until the task was complete. Nick kissed her right cheek and Jarrod her left as they passed on their way to the barn. She didn't get the opportunity to say goodbye to Heath. He'd left the house while Nick and Jarrod had Victoria occupied. That didn't surprise the woman. Heath was good at slinking by her unnoticed.

Victoria shook Heath from her mind. With only two days to go until Christmas she had an abundance of jobs to accomplish. She wiped off Audra's hands and face, then plucked the baby from the highchair.

"Come on, Mama's girl. Let's get a head start on those cookies we need to bake."

Audra sat on the kitchen floor gurgling at her reflection in a tin pie plate. Victoria smiled down at the content little girl while wiping a strand of hair out of her face. She had just pulled a hot batch of cookies from the oven when she felt a pair of lips kiss her cheek.

"Looks like I'm just in time to enjoy some Christmas cheer."

The woman smiled at her oldest son. "That you are. Pour yourself a glass of milk and have a seat at the table."

Jarrod did as his mother ordered. She took three ginger bread men from the cooling rack and placed them on a plate. She sat down next to her son, enjoying the opportunity to have time alone with him. The heady smells of cinnamon and nutmeg warmed the room, making it feel like Christmas had already arrived. Or so Jarrod said in-between bites of his cookies.

"Where are your brothers?"

"Nick rode on to the upper pasture to help Father sort cattle. Heath's out in the barn taking care of Jingo, - at his insistence, of course. He let me remove the saddle off for him, but he said he'd do the rest."

"He's a hard working little boy, I'll give him that. I don't believe there's a lazy bone in that child's body."

"Father said the same thing to me the day we rode home from the train station."

Audra crawled over and latched onto her mother's dress. She pulled herself to her feet, then swayed back and forth on unsteady legs. Victoria picked the baby up, setting Audra on her lap. Jarrod tore off part of a ginger bread man's leg and handed it to his little sister. Victoria watched the baby gum the treat for a moment then turned her attention back to her son.

"Speaking of Nick and Heath, how was your ride?"

"Great. It's so good to be home. I didn't realize how much I missed the ranch until we were riding over all this wide open space."

"I'm glad to hear that. It gives me hope that you'll set up your law practice in Stockton when the time comes."

"I have a ways to go before I'm ready to set up a law practice. But I don't have any reason not to want to return home when my schooling is finished."

Victoria reached over and patted her son's hand. "You don't know how happy I am to hear that."

Jarrod studied his mother over the rim of his glass. He took a long swig of milk then set the glass aside. He took his mother's hand in his and squeezed.

"Enough small talk. How are you?"

Victoria dipped her head, placing a kiss in Audra's curls. "Fine."

"Mother."

"What?"

"When you answer me without making eye contact I'm led to conclude your 'fine' is less than an honest reply."

"You may be some years away from being a lawyer, Jarrod, but you already sound like one."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"That's how it was intended."

"Mother. Please. The truth. How are you with all,....this? How are you and Father?"

"Your Father and I are weathering the storm. Don't worry, honey, our ship isn't going to sink."

"You're certain?"

Victoria wormed her hand from Jarrod's grasp. She reached up and cupped the side of his face. "I'm certain, Jarrod."

A soft smile touched the corners of Jarrod's mouth. "You're a remarkable woman, Mrs. Barkley."

"Not so remarkable really. But you're right about one thing. I am a woman. And a woman does what she has to in order to keep her family together."

Jarrod nodded. He ate the remainder of his snack before speaking again.

"That Heath sure is a likable little guy. After Nick left us he kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation our entire ride back here, pointing out this and that to me as though I'd been away a hundred years."

"Your father says he does the same when the two of them are alone together."

"It's not that way when Nick's around though, isn't it? Heath's a completely different child then. So reserved. So quiet."

"Nick's having a difficult time adjusting to the situation. He's been very angry with your father."

"Yes. Father mentioned that. He said Nick's jealous of Heath."

"Jealous of the attention Father gives Heath, yes. Though in your father's defense I must say he tries his best to give equal time to both the boys. He's gone the extra mile with Nick on a number of occasions, but you know how your brother is when he gets angry."

"Nick's got quite a temper," Jarrod agreed. "He's like Grandpa Ted and Uncle Thor in that regard. And he can hold a grudge longer than anyone I've ever met."

Victoria shifted Audra in her arms. The baby had fallen asleep. Victoria repositioned her so the child's head rested in the crook of her elbow.

"That he can. Truthfully, I thought by now Nick would have begun to form a friendship of sorts with Heath but that has yet to happen."

"Just like you can't form a bond with him?"

"Who told you that?"

"No one. But it's quite apparent to anyone who observes the two of you, you and Heath, together."

Victoria sighed. She was surprised to feel the lump well up in her throat. She pushed her way around it.

"He doesn't like me."

"Heath?"

"Yes."

"Has he told you that?"

"He doesn't have to. He won't have anything to do with me. Or at least not any more than he has to. He won't speak to me unless I speak to him first, and then it's only to reply 'Yes, ma'am,' or 'No, ma'am,'. And heaven forbid if he were to be caught alone in the same room with me. The child must think he'll fall over dead should that happen."

"Has Heath ever talked to Father about the reasons why he treats you that way?"

"No. To the best of my knowledge Heath doesn't speak about me to anyone. I don't understand it, Jarrod. Even though Nick can be downright mean to him, Heath still makes an effort to extend friendship to Nick. But not once, not one single time, has he shown any warmth toward me."

"Could that have something to do with his mother's death? Possibly he feels he's being disloyal to her if he transfers his affection to you."

"Possibly. Though to be honest with you Heath's never projected any emotion close to affection toward me. He's very distant with me. Even more reserved around me than he is around Nick."

Already the young lawyer, Jarrod's brow furrowed in thought. "Well, he could be,...."

Before Jarrod finished his sentence boot heels pounded through the parlor. A young voice filled with excitement and joy sounded.

"Mother! Mother!"

For a brief moment Jarrod saw his mother's eyes shine with delight. A smile split her face and she stood with the sleeping Audra in her arms.

"Mother! Mother!"

Victoria was halfway across the kitchen floor when Heath entered.

"Moth,...." the boy came to a halt in the doorway. He looked around, puzzlement etched on his face. When he spotted the cookies cooling on the counter his eyes shifted to Victoria. And right before tears spilled from those eyes she saw disappointment, betrayal and sorrow. Jarrod stood, but before he got to his little brother the child turned and fled the room.

Victoria started to follow the eight year old. Jarrod placed a restraining hand on her arm.

"Why don't you put Audra in her crib while I go to Heath."

Victoria hesitated a minute before nodding. If Heath was her child she wouldn't consider letting anyone else comfort him when he was crying. But he wasn't her child, and through his actions he continuously reminded her of that fact.

"Yes. Yes, you see to your brother and I'll see to Audra."

Jarrod placed a kiss on the woman's temple. When he stepped back Victoria said, "You saw it too, didn't you? The disappointment in his eyes when he came face to face with me. The same disappointment I always see in his eyes when he looks at me."

What Jarrod wanted to say was, No, I didn't see it. What I saw was a little boy who's devastated over the loss of his mother. A little boy who doesn't understand why he's living in this house full of strangers. But most importantly what I saw was the love shining from your eyes when you thought he was calling for you. The love, and then the hurt when you realized it wasn't you he wanted.

But Jarrod didn't say any of those things because he knew his mother was already aware of them. Had probably mulled them over a thousand times since Heath came to the Barkley ranch.

Jarrod walked out of the kitchen. Victoria trailed him with Audra in her arms. Ten minutes later Victoria stepped out of the nursery just as Jarrod stepped from Heath's room. He closed the door behind himself and didn't speak until he and his mother were in the parlor.

"Did Heath tell you what upset him?"

"No," Jarrod shook his head. "He wouldn't say. He wouldn't talk to me at all. He wouldn't allow me to comfort him in any way. There wasn't much else I could do but tell him that I'd always be willing to listen if he ever wants to discuss whatever it is that's hurting him."

"You couldn't do anymore than that, Jarrod."

"I know. But when my little brother is crying as though his heart is breaking what I had to offer doesn't seem like much."

Victoria gave her son a sad smile. "Now you know how I feel."

"Yes." Jarrod's answer was quiet, thoughtful, and full of new respect. "Yes, Mother, I guess I do."

By nine o'clock on the morning of Christmas Eve the Barkley house was filled with smells that indicated the coming days would bring an abundance of food to the table. Victoria and Silas popped pan after pan of popcorn for stringing while the Barkley men were out cutting down the tree. A twelve foot tall evergreen was in a stand in the corner of the parlor by noon. After lunch everyone gathered to decorate the massive beauty.

Though Heath participated in stringing popcorn and cranberries, Victoria noticed he sat by himself on the floor in the far corner of the room. Even coaxing from Tom couldn't draw him closer to the family circle. His head remained bent over his task, his concentration seemingly focused on the job he was doing.

The joy of the holidays and the fun of decorating the tree soon had the rest of the Barkleys reminiscing about past Christmases. They laughed when Jarrod reminded them of the time the tree fell on Nick, when the then seven year old couldn't resist sneaking down the stairs and poking around after Santa Claus had come to call.

"I'll never forget being woken up at two in the morning to Nick's scream," Tom said with a twinkle in his eye. "Mother and I thought he'd been sleepwalking and had fallen down the stairs. Instead we found him pinned under the evergreen, his arms and legs flailing in six different directions."

Nick talked about the year his favorite uncle had been with them for the holidays.

"When Uncle Thor visited us that year it was like having our very own Santa Claus right here in the house," Nick said.

"Yes, it was," Victoria agree. Her robust, sandy haired brother-in-law never spoke in anything less than a rumbling shout and loved to laugh until tears rolled down his cheeks.

Tom looked at his two oldest sons. "And I seem to recall a Christmas when two boys beat Santa Claus to his cookies."

"We couldn't help it," Nick grinned. "Jarrod and I got hungry waiting for him to come."

It was only after an hour had passed and Heath walked over to fill his bowl with more popcorn that Victoria realized how left out he must feel. He hadn't said a word while his family had talked, but then he rarely did when they gathered as one.

"Heath," Victoria said, "why don't you share some memories with us about special Christmases you had."

The boy refused to meet Victoria's eyes.

"No, thank you."

Heath turned with his bowl and reseated himself in the corner.

Tom looked from his wife to his youngest son. What did the boy mean? That he had no memories of past Christmases that he deemed special, or that he felt the memories he had of times spent with his mother were not welcome in this house, or was he simply being rude?

"Heath?"

The eight year old looked across the room at his father, his face a neutral mask.

When the child didn't break the heavy silence that prevailed Tom decided to let things drop. He didn't want the holiday ruined for the rest of his family. If Heath chose to sit by himself and not participate when invited to, then so be it.

"Nothing." Tom forced himself to smile. "You go back to what you were doing."

Nick rolled his eyes at Jarrod and whispered, "He ruins everything that's supposed to be fun."

Victoria shot her fourteen year old a look that clearly said, "That's enough, Nicholas."

Silas was the family's saving grace. Whether by accident or design he chose that moment to appear with a plate of fudge and a pitcher of milk. If nothing else the refreshments diverted everyone's attention for a little while.

It was late in the afternoon before the work on the tree was declared finished. Victoria couldn't wait until night came and the children were in bed. She and Tom would light the candles on the evergreen then sit together by the fire and enjoy its beauty. It had been five years since she had a youngster in her home who believed in Santa Claus. Not that Heath had talked to her about the jolly old elf, but she had seen him writing a letter to Santa at the dining room table one evening several weeks back. She heard him ask Tom for a stamp later that night. Tom had done his best to get Heath to turn the letter over to him to mail, but the boy refused. He insisted he'd drop it off at the post office on his way to school, which was exactly what he did. That left Tom and Victoria guessing as to what to put under the tree for him. In the end they drew on their experience as parents of two sons and bought the kinds of things all eight year old boys like. A whittling knife, a wooden whistle, a set of jacks, a card game, a kite, and additional cars for Heath's train were just some of what he'd find under the tree on Christmas morning.

For the time being Victoria reminded her men they had to hurry through chores and then take turns in the bathtub. For ten years now Tom and Victoria had hosted a cookout on Christmas Eve for the ranch hands and their families. A steer and two pigs had been roasting all day in the pits behind the barn. By sundown tables would be piled high with food and drink. At midnight everyone would join together to sing Silent Night, then the party would draw to a close.

At quarter to one Christmas morning Jarrod walked into the house. He found his parents exactly where he knew he would, sitting together on the hearth of the fireplace. The glow from the fire and the flickering flames of the tree's candles were the only lights shining in the house.

Tom smiled up at his oldest. "Did the last of the party goers finally call it a night?"

"Yes, and this party goer plans to do the same. Are Nick and Heath in bed?"

"Nick went up a few minutes ago," Tom said. "I brought Heath in about eleven. I found him asleep in the barn with Chief's tribe."

"So that's where he disappeared to."

"It would seem so."

Jarrod raised a questioning eyebrow, but his father chose not to elaborate. With the gaggles of excited children running around during the party it had been a long time before anyone noted Heath's absence. The first Jarrod knew of the boy's disappearance was when his father came up to him and Nick at ten-thirty and asked if they'd seen Heath. Both young men shook their heads no, Jarrod offering to help look for his youngest brother.

"No," his father had replied. "You boys continue with your fun. I'll find him."

When Tom was out of earshot Nick turned to Jarrod. "See. What did I tell you. That kid ruins every good time we've tried to have since he got here."

"Perhaps you should have a bit more sympathy for his plight, Brother Nick. After all, this is his first Christmas without his mother, and the first with his new family."

"You already sound like a lawyer, you know that? Father's sure getting his money's worth outta your fancy schooling."

That's when Nick poked Jarrod in the stomach and took off running. Jarrod raced after him, thoughts of Heath pushed from his mind as he plotted playful revenge against his fourteen year old brother.

Jarrod came back to the present when his mother said, "Father found Heath so that's all that matters. We can hardly punish him for being in the barn, now can we."

Jarrod studied his parents a long moment. He could tell the adjustment of a new child to their family was turning out to be as hard on them as it was on Heath.

"No, I don't think we can punish him for that," was all Jarrod said. He smiled and bent to kiss his mother on the forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Jarrod."

"Goodnight, son."

When he heard Jarrod's bedroom door shut Tom pulled his wife close to his side. He ran a hand through her hair and kissed her temple.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Barkley. And thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything. Standing beside me through good times and bad. Weathering my mistakes. Welcoming Heath to our family. You're my one-in-a-million gal."

Victoria made no reply to the compliments. She had to admit that this year, more than any other, they were deserved.

The couple stood and went to the study. Presents were pulled from the huge locked closet across from Tom's desk and carried to the parlor. Victoria filled six stockings then hung them on the fireplace mantel while Tom piled gifts under the tree.

The couple sat enjoying their handiwork until the fire burned low. At two a.m. Victoria finally suggested they go to bed. She almost added, "No doubt Heath will have us up at the crack of dawn," but somehow she knew that wasn't true. She couldn't picture her subdued stepson flying down the stairs with joy to see what Santa had left him.

As she and Tom walked hand in hand up the stairs Victoria offered a silent prayer heavenward.

Please, Lord, just let today be free of upsets for all of us. Just this one day of all days.

Heath wasn't sure what woke him. He sat up in bed, confused for a moment as to how he got here. The last thing he remembered was laying against Cheyenne's soft side while her puppies clambered all over him.

The boy listened for other sounds in the household. All was silent, leading him to believe the party had come to an end and everyone was asleep. He rolled toward the nightstand by the side of his bed and opened a drawer. He grabbed the gifts he'd been hiding for weeks and threw the covers back. His flannel nightshirt swirled around his calves as he crept to the door. He opened it without making a sound, then peered into the hallway. The door that led to his father's room was shut, as was the one to Nick's room and the nursery. Jarrod's room he couldn't see from here, it was around the corner, but no lights shone from the lower story meaing Heath felt it safe to descend.

The glow of the fireplace led the eight year old to the parlor. A wide grin split Heath's face when he caught sight of the bulging stockings and the presents piled under the tree. Santa Claus had come! He'd really come again!

Santa hadn't visited Heath in several years now. The boy was glad to find out that this year of all years, Santa had put Heath back on his list.

The boy stopped in front of the bright red stocking that had his name embroidered on it. Santa must have brought the stocking with him. Heath never had a stocking when he lived in Strawberry.

The boy quaked with anticipation. He absently laid the gifts he carried under the tree, then stood and parted the branches. He craned his head, looking left and right. He circled the tree, even squeezing behind it where it brushed up against the wall. He looked, and looked, and looked, then thought, The kitchen! That's where he'd leave my present. In the kitchen 'cause we always had so much fun in our kitchen at home.

Heath thought of the gingerbread cookies his mother used to bake and how their aroma made their little house in Strawberry smell so good. Just like the kitchen in this house had smelled the other day when he thought his mother had come back to him.

The boy ran into the cold, dark room. He navigated without the aid of light, feeling every chair. He moved to the cook stove, then to the wall that held the cabinets. When Heath finally determined there was no one present but himself he caught his lower lip between his teeth to keep from crying out his anguish. He fled through the dining room, parlor, and out into the foyer. When he came to the stairs he forced his steps to slow. He had to get back to his room as quietly as he'd left it. He didn't want to face these people he lived with now. He couldn't bear to see the sorrow on his father's face, or the pity on Jarrod's, or the anger on Nick's. And her,.....well her, the one he called 'ma'am', he didn't want to see at all.