CHAPTER SEVEN

At the sound of Jarrod's incredulous shout, Nick leaped into the muddy hole, oblivious now to the pain in his leg. Jarrod was down on one knee with his hands behind Heath's shoulders, lifting him up out of the mire. Nick stared at Heath's still, muddy form and thought for a moment that Jarrod was wrong.

"Jarrod, I don't know....." he hesitated, and leaned forward, looking closer.

"Here," Jarrod said. He leaned Heath's body back against his own, holding him up. He grabbed Nick's hand and placed it where he had felt the weak pulse.

The warmth of Heath's body surprised Nick, and he too felt the faint spark of life in his brother.

"Here!" said a voice from over their heads, "take this."

Major Owens handed down a blanket to Jarrod. He had witnessed their startling discovery and had quickly grabbed the blanket from the back of the wagon and ran to them. Will tied his horse off of the wagon and jumped to the driver's seat. He brought the wagon up close, then got down off the seat to help. They lifted Heath up as gently as they could, and put him on the blanket in the grass beside the grave. Major Owens handed his knife to Nick. Nick cut the ropes on Heath's wrists and ankles and angrily threw them aside.

They carefully lifted him into the wagon, wrapped the blanket around him, and set off as quickly as they could on the muddy road toward town. Will drove the team, and Nick and Jarrod rode in the back, trying to hold Heath as still as they could through the bumpy ride.

Major Owens, riding his horse next to them shouted, "Private, you get these boys to the doctor's, I'm going back to the farm and see to things up there."

"Yes sir!" shouted Will.

The major wheeled his horse and galloped off toward the farmhouse. Will drove the wagon toward town like a man possessed. Jarrod had to shout to him to take it easy, as he feared for their lives on the rough road the way he was driving. Will eased up, and the road conditions being what they were, brought the team down to a reasonable gait.

The sheriff returned to the doctor's office with a key, and escorted Victoria and Audra to the hotel. He swept them past the curious eyes of the clerk and a few patrons and got them settled in their room.

"Thank you Fred," Victoria said.

"You're welcome Victoria, you just let me know if you need anything, anything at all," he said sincerely. "I'm sorry, I'm just so sorry."

She weakly smiled her thanks and closed the door behind him. She talked Audra into lying down on the bed. Surprisingly, her daughter offered little protest. She was exhausted and emotionally spent. Victoria sat beside her on the bed and smoothed her hair.

"Oh mother, what will we do?" Audra said softly, her voice still halting with sobs.

"I don't know honey, I just don't know."

There was a soft knock at the door. The nurse, Sarah Parker, stood there as Victoria opened the door.

"The doctor sent me over with this, and to see if you needed anything." She said, handing Victoria a small brown bottle. "It'll help her rest." Sarah nodded toward Audra on the bed. "Just mix a spoonful with a glass of water."

Victoria poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table by the bed. She mixed in the liquid. She desperately wanted to talk to Alan about what had happened to Heath. She knew the questions, and the answers, would be difficult and thought it best that Audra not be with her. She gave Audra the glass and held it while she drank.

"There honey, you rest now."

"Mother, you'll let me know when Nick and Jarrod get back?" Audra asked.

"Sure, honey," she said patting Audra's arm gently.

Audra closed her eyes and turned away to the wall. Victoria asked Sarah, "Would you please stay with her a little while? I don't want her to be alone, and I'd like to go back over to the doctor's and speak with Alan and Russ."

"Certainly Mrs. Barkley, I don't think the doctor will need me for a while, but if he does you'll send for me?"

"Yes, right away. And, thank you."

Victoria walked back over to the doctor's office. She opened the door and walked in. She called toward the examination room, "Alan?"

"He's here, Mrs. Barkley, upstairs," said the doctor.

She went upstairs and found Alan in one of the bedrooms sitting on a chair next to a bed where Russ was now sitting up. Russ' color was much better than when she had seen him a little while ago, but he looked troubled, and his brow was furrowed. Alan stood up as she entered and offered his chair. She started to refuse, looking down at his bandaged ankle. The doctor walked in holding another chair.

"Here," he said, "I'm sure you folks would like to talk for a while."

He set the chair down, then reached forward and felt Russ' forehead. Satisfied, he nodded to Alan and walked out of the room. Victoria sat down, and Alan settled in the chair beside her.

"Please," she said tearfully, looking from one to the other, "I need to know what happened."

The Major rode back to the farm and supervised the collection and identification of the deceased and sent a man back to Stockton to the telegraph office with a message advising his superiors of the situation. The man took Nick and Jarrod's horses back with him. Some of the men worked to clean up the farmhouse and search the place thoroughly. The major interviewed the prisoner again, trying to make some sense of what went on and where the blame would lie as far as the criminal charges, but Davis was uncooperative.

Owens was sure the sheriff would be wanting to talk to the prisoner too. Although the Major felt he himself had jurisdiction, he didn't mind the help with the investigation. He knew he and the sheriff would need to interview Alan Redlin, Russ Avery, and Nick Barkley. Maybe Heath too, if he survived, although the Major had his doubts about that possibility. He'd seen the condition of that boy when they pulled him out of the hole and couldn't believe he was alive. These Barkleys, he thought admiringly, tough stock.

The sheriff had asked Alan and Russ if they wanted him to wire their families to let them know they were safe. He was certain that the newspapers already carried the story of the robbery of the train, and certainly they must have family members who were worried, knowing they were on that train. They had thanked him but refused, saying they'd prefer to handle it themselves later. He was a little surprised at their refusal and their lack of interest in sending a message right away.

Out of respect for Victoria and her family, he had taken care not to mention Heath's death to anyone yet except his deputy, and ordered him not to discuss it. The town would find out soon enough and Mrs. Barkley didn't need the stress of dealing with well-wishers before Nick and Jarrod returned.

He sent for his deputy to come and watch the office and the one prisoner he had in the jail, and he packed his saddlebag with report forms. He had stayed in town hoping to see Nick and Jarrod when they returned, but it was getting late. From what little Alan and Russ had told him after he had returned from seeing Mrs. Barkley to the hotel, he knew he had quite a job ahead of him. If he was going to sort out this case he knew he couldn't delay any longer. He had to ride out to the farmhouse and meet with the major now.

In the back of the wagon, Nick held Heath with his upper body lying back across his lap. He looked down at Heath's face and saw lines where it looked like the rain water had run down through the mud on his brother's cheek. Rain...or tears? How long had Heath been there? Had he been conscious, lying there waiting for help..... or death....?

The thoughts were agonizing. He'd been so close this morning. If only he had taken that road a little farther. Would it have kept his brother from lying there alone for hours, his life ebbing away in that rotten hole? Nick thought in anguish, would that time have made the difference in whether or not Heath would now survive?

As Nick suffered with his thoughts, Jarrod saw his tortured expression.

"Nick," he said, "we did our best to find him. I'm sure Heath knew that."

"Did he Jarrod? Look at him," Nick said angrily. "Do you think he knew when he was lying in that hole? Or in that stinking farmhouse, or..." his voice breaking, "or when I didn't keep them from taking him off the train?"

The tears welled up in his eyes. He looked down at Heath again. "I'm so sorry....Heath.....I was so close this morning..." His voice trailed off. He adjusted the blanket higher around Heath's shoulders and put his hand gently on Heath's head, holding it close against his chest.

Jarrod looked away. He knew his brother well enough to realize that nothing he could say right now would help. He'd have a chance to talk to Nick later, maybe after they got to Dr. Merar's. They rode the rest of the way toward Stockton in silence.

Alan looked at Victoria, understanding her need to know what happened to her son, but wanting to keep her from the truth of it as well. She was a strong woman who loved her family fiercely. This was not going to be easy. She saw the conflict in his face and reached out her hand. He took it, held it, and looked at her.

"Mrs. Barkley, "he said, trying to find the words, "your son was a brave man. These were terrible people who took him."

He looked over at Russ, sitting silently beside her.

He continued, "Heath realized that - I think Heath was trying to protect the rest of us. You know he helped that young soldier escape."

He saw Russ frown, as if remembering.

Alan spoke his lies softly, "We tried to convince them to leave him alone, after he was injured, but it didn't do any good."

His voice rising, Alan continued, "We were tied up, and we couldn't reach him to help."

He pounded his fist on his thigh, agitated. "Oh, if only we could have helped him......"

Alan appeared lost in his anguish for a moment but stopped himself then, suddenly sorry for saying so much. Afraid that he'd poured it on too thick.

"How......?" she asked softly, not sure she really wanted to know, but realizing she needed to know if she was ever going to be able to talk to Nick about this.

"Well, you know he was hurt when they took him from the train," Russ said.

"Yes," she said gravely, remembering the vicious blow to the head he had taken from the gunman.

Alan spoke up, "When they brought us to the farmhouse, I saw that he had a gash on his head. It was pretty bad but he had stopped bleeding. I tried to help him but there wasn't much I could do. Russ and I, well, we tried to help but they tied us up. When they found out he was a Barkley they... they were brutal." He spared her further details.

"They took him out of the room we were in then," said Alan, "Heath was alive when they took him from us, and didn't see him after that. We heard a gunshot, and overheard the gunmen say there was some sort of escape attempt. They said he was shot. Hours later, when it was all over, and the cavalry was there, one of the gang confessed to burying him and Nick nearly killed that man." He paused.

"I'm sorry, that's all I can tell you. They must have taken Heath away before Nick and the cavalry got there. That's why Nick and Jarrod are still out there, they must be searching for him."

For a while longer, Alan and Russ answered Victoria's questions as best they could, leaving out the worst of the details, and most of the truth.

Dr. Merar came in and said, "I'm sorry, but Russ...and actually all of you need to rest."

Alan was grateful for the interruption by the doctor, and he rose and escorted Victoria back to the hotel where the sheriff had thoughtfully reserved another room for him.

"Mrs. Barkley, I know you, and I know you'd like to stay up and wait for them. But there's no telling how long they'll be now. They may not get back tonight. They may have decided to stay where they were until the roads dry out. You need to rest."

She patted his arm, "I promise, I'll get some rest. And Alan, thank you, you're a good friend."

Victoria entered her room, relieving Sarah who then left to check in at the doctor's once more before going home herself. Audra was still sleeping, but Victoria could tell it was not peaceful from the look on her face. Victoria sank down on the side of the bed exhausted. She knew her mind would not let her sleep, thoughts of what Alan and Russ told her playing over and over.

Her mind was nagging her. Something didn't sound right, although she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Alan had said that the men had been brutal with Heath when they found out he was a Barkley. Why would that be, she wondered. What possible connection could the robbers have to the family, especially one that could inspire such cruelty.

She looked at the brown bottle Sarah had brought over earlier. Desperately needing rest, and knowing that tomorrow would be terribly difficult and she would need to be strong for her family, she mixed a spoonful of the liquid in a glass of water and drank deeply. It was the only way to numb her mind, to shut off the terrible pictures her imagination was producing. She sank on to the other bed and lay on her side facing the wall. Her tears wet the pillow as she sank into sleep.

Dr. Merar was having trouble sleeping too. He had seen that Russ was resting comfortably, sent Sarah home and wearily gone upstairs to bed. Recalling the events of the day, he lay there staring at the ceiling. In his line of work he had seen a lot of suffering, and mended a lot of broken bodies. He knew the Barkley family so well, cared for them and considered them friends. He wondered how or if he would be able to help mend their broken hearts over the loss of Heath. He closed his eyes, deciding that he would check on Audra and Victoria in the morning.

The clock ticking in the hall counted off the minutes. Laying there awake, listening to the sounds of the night, he heard the far off rumble of a wagon approaching. He wondered if he would hear it would roll on by, or if this was another late night need for his services.

As he heard the wagon stop in front of his office and footsteps on the porch, he was already up, heading for the stairs and sliding one arm into the sleeve of his shirt by the time the knock came at the door.

"Doc!" came the voice, "Doc Merar!"

"I'm coming, hang on," he yelled back, buttoning his shirt as he came downstairs.

He opened the door. A young soldier was there, and in the dark, although he did not immediately recognize who it was, he could see that there were two men carrying another man from the wagon up to the door.

"You can bring him in here," he directed. He walked ahead of them into the dark room and grabbed and lit a lamp. "Lay him down here," he said, indicating the examining table.

Turning with the lamp in his hand, he was astonished to see that it was Nick and Jarrod Barkley carrying the man.

"Nick! Jarrod!" he exclaimed.

As the light from the lamp illuminated their faces he saw their grave concern.

"Please doc, please help him." He heard the terrible desperation in Nick's voice.

The man they had laid on the table was awfully pale and his clothes and face were covered with mud and dried blood. For a moment the thought occurred to him that they had brought him a corpse.

He remembered what Alan had said. The Barkley brothers were supposed to be bringing Heath's body home....he looked harder at the man's face.

"Jarrod," the doctor said as he grabbed for his stethoscope, "they told me.....I thought Heath was dead."

"So did we," said Jarrod, "we pulled him out of a grave."

Dr. Merar looked up at Jarrod and saw that he was grimly serious. Using the stethoscope, he confirmed to himself that Heath was indeed alive.

"I'll need some help here. Jarrod, can you start some water warming so we can clean him up? And Nick, find a couple more lamps, I'm going to need some more light."

Using his scissors, the doctor began quickly cutting away the soiled clothing. The bloody shirt stuck to the wound, and in places where he had to peel the cloth away, bright red oozed from the damaged flesh. Nick and Will brought lamps from the other rooms and lit them. Jarrod brought in a pan of water from the kitchen.

"Its not very warm, I have more on the stove, but I thought you 'd want to get started," he said.

"Yes, thank you Jarrod. Ok, lets see what we've got here."

Taking a clean cloth, he soaked it in the water. He worked, cleaning Heath's bloody shoulder and chest, then up to his head and face. Jarrod replaced the water and the cloth several times as they became dirty. Nick stood by, watching the doctor work, helping where he could. It seemed that each wipe of the cloth revealed more damage, and Nick felt his anger and hurt growing. He vowed to himself that he would see that those responsible for this would pay dearly.

As the doctor worked, he asked them for details on what they knew about how Heath was injured and how long he had been out there. They talked while he worked.

It was hard for Will to speak of it, and maybe even harder for Nick and Jarrod to hear the details of what had happened in the farmhouse. Of course Will could only tell them what had happened up to the point he had escaped. When he had told them as much as he could, Will offered to go and take care of stabling the horses. It gave him an excuse to leave the discomfort of being in the doctor's office with Heath's brothers and the pain that was there. He decided he'd check back in the morning.

With the removal of the grime and blood they could see how pale and really badly beaten Heath was. Dr. Merar's expert hands traveled slowly and deliberately over Heath's battered body. He shook his head in disgust at the terrible bruising from the kicks Heath had taken. He stopped every few minutes to listen with the stethoscope and check the pulse. He cleaned and bandaged the wound, making sure the bleeding had stopped.

Dr. Merar glanced at Nick and Jarrod. He knew the brothers were waiting for an indication from him as to Heath's condition. His experience told him the situation was not hopeful. In fact, he found it hard to believe, from what he could see and what they told him had happened, that Heath had survived until now. His breathing was so shallow, the pulse so weak, that the doctor had checked several times to make sure Heath was still alive.

He assessed the problems as he continued his examination, tallying them in his mind. Of most concern now, beyond the other injuries, was the gunshot wound. It was bad, and there was no exit wound. He knew the bullet was somewhere between the shoulder and upper chest, maybe close to the lung, but he didn't dare try to operate now. As weak as Heath was Merar knew it would kill him. There was the gash on the back of the head, probably meant a concussion, and that strange bruising on his throat... almost like...a hand print? Had they tried to strangle him too?

He leaned on his hands on the side of the table, looked across Heath's body at Nick and Jarrod and sighed, shaking his head.

"Doc?" Nick said.

He hesitated and looked at the brothers intently. "I'll tell you the truth," he said solemnly, "your brother is bad off, real bad off, and I'm not sure he's going to make it through the night."

He saw their expressions fall. Then, he said, brighter, "Listen, I don't know what's keeping your brother alive, but maybe, just maybe he'll be able to hang on long enough for us to help."

He saw the hope arise in their faces. "First thing, I'm going to need a blood donor."

He looked at the two brothers, knowing both would gladly give not only their blood but their lives for this man. Then he noticed Nick's leg for the first time. Blood had soaked though the bandage Victoria had put on, and there was now a dark stain on his thigh.

"Whoa Nick, looks like I've got two patients here."

"Don't worry about me doc," Nick said, shaking his head, "It's just a scratch."

"You better let me decide that Nick," said the doctor, smiling slightly for the first time that night.

"Jarrod, I think you're the better choice for the transfusion." Jarrod nodded his agreement and rolled up his sleeve.

"Ok," the doctor said, "I'll need you to lie down over here. Nick, you sit there and put that leg up for a bit." indicating a chair by the wall.

As he prepared the instruments the doctor was thoughtful. He said, "Boys, I treated your friends Alan and Russ earlier. They told me some of what happened. Russ is upstairs asleep. Alan is over at the hotel."

Answering Nick's unspoken question, he said "They're both going to be all right." Nick looked relieved at the news.

The doctor continued, "The sheriff was here with your family. Your mother and sister are at the hotel. They're pretty shook up, you know they think your brother was killed. I gave them some medication to help them sleep."

"I'll go over there now," said Nick, starting to stand.

"Nick, wait," said Jarrod, looking over at Heath. "Maybe you shouldn't just yet."

Dr. Merar looked at Nick. "Jarrod's right Nick, it'd be too hard, if you get their hopes up and then... well, if the transfusion isn't successful."

Nick sat back down heavily. He imagined how awful this must have been for his mother and Audra and thought he should go over and comfort them. But Jarrod and the doctor were right, he thought. Here it was the middle of the night. He couldn't go wake them, renew their hopes for Heath, only to have them come here to watch him die. He realized it was best for now to let them sleep, then see what the morning would bring.

He watched while the doctor worked to prepare for the transfusion. The minutes ticked by, and he leaned his head back against the wall and fought unsuccessfully to keep his eyes open. He was so very tired. His body finally gave in to the exhaustion and he fell asleep as the doctor fixed the last of the connections and started the transfusion.

Jarrod looked over at Nick, glad to see him resting. The doctor, satisfied with the equipment, followed his gaze.

"When we're through here I'll look at that leg of his. How are you feeling over there Jarrod?" the doctor asked, standing at Heath's side.

"I'm all right," said Jarrod.

As Jarrod watched, the doctor leaned down to check on the needle in Heath's left arm. Suddenly, he heard the thumping footsteps of someone coming down from upstairs. He looked up. Russ slowly made his way into the room.

"Russ!" said Jarrod.

"I thought I heard voices down here," said Russ, squinting.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw Jarrod lying on the table, and Nick sitting against the wall.

"Jarrod?!" he said. He was a little groggy still. At first, the doctor's body blocked his view of the other table.

"Jarrod, what are you doin' here so la......" The scene before him started to register and as he stepped further into the room. The doctor moved, he saw the still form on the other table. He was stunned.

"Oh my God," he gasped, "Heath?" Nick awoke at Russ' outburst.

"Russ...." he said, rising from the chair.

Nick limped over to Russ and bear-hugged him. Russ turned and motioned toward Heath, "I don't understand.... I thought he was...."

"I know, Russ, I know," interrupted Nick.

Russ looked at him incredulously. Nick looked down at Heath, assuring himself that he was still breathing.

The doctor, seeing his concern looked at him and said, "He's still hanging on, Nick."

Reassured, he said, "Come on," steering Russ with his arm around his shoulder, he headed for the doctor's kitchen.

"Its gonna be a long night, I think we're all gonna need some coffee."

CHAPTER EIGHT

The sheriff had ridden out late toward the farmhouse. It shouldn't have taken him as long as it did to get there, but it was dark, the roads were muddy due to the rain and the visibility was poor with the mist that hung in the air. It'd have done him no good to lame his horse on the uneven footing this far from town, so he kept his big gelding at a slower pace. As he approached the farm, the vision of Victoria and Audra in tears weighed heavily on his mind. He hoped that they would be able to find some peace in the days to come.

: He wasn't all that eager to face the work ahead of him. Not that he really minded working with Major Owens. He had worked with him before and knew him to be a fair man who often shouldered more than his share of the workload. But there were bound to be problems over jurisdiction in this case. He figured to do his investigation, then leave the rest for the lawyers or judges to decide.

: The major had set up a temporary headquarters at the farm until they could arrange for more men to escort the gold back to the train station. The sentry stopped the sheriff at the perimeter that had been set up around the main farm buildings. He was allowed to pass and was directed to the farmhouse, now the major's office. It was late, but the lamp was still burning and, as he stepped up to the door, Fred could see Owens bent over the table he was using for his desk, pouring over a stack of papers. He knocked and a private opened the door.

"Sheriff, come in," he said, extending his hand. "Please sit down, we have some work to do." Owens directed him to the chair beside the table.

They discussed their understanding of the events that had taken place. There were many unanswered questions. They were going to need statements from the people who were there. They decided to begin by assembling a list of witnesses they wanted to interview.

"The Barkley brothers," said the Major, writing as he spoke, "Jarrod,... Nick,.. and maybe Heath."

"Heath?" said the sheriff. "You're gonna interview a dead man?"

"Oh," said the major, "they must not have made it back to town before you left...we found him alive."

"Thank God, then he's all right," said the sheriff with a relieved smile.

"Well," said the Major, frowning, "no, I don't think he's all right. Matter of fact, I don't know if he'll live after all. He looked pretty poorly when they headed for town."

The doctor finished the transfusion, checking on both the donor and the recipient.

"You doin' ok Jarrod?" he asked. Jarrod sat up on the table and put his left hand over and felt the spot the doctor had just bandaged where the needle had been removed from his arm. He felt a bit lightheaded.

"I'll be fine doc, how's Heath doing?"

"A little too early to tell," he said.

He checked the pulse again. "Still weak," he said, frowning. He brought the blanket covering Heath up higher across his chest and shoulders.

He had hoped to see some improvement in Heath, but aside from a rise in his temperature from being brought in from the elements, the doctor saw very little change. It wasn't a good sign. He knew that infection would be setting in with the gunshot wound and he needed to get the bullet out soon. There was no way Heath's body could fight that in his present condition.

Then, he thought, transfusions didn't always work either. The medical journals he read discussed various theories on why some were very successful and others not. He knew that the best cases appeared to be between closely related family members and, knowing Heath was Jarrod's half-brother, he wondered if his efforts had been futile. He decided he would wait a while before doing anything further. Hoping in that time, if it was successful, Heath would have gained strength from the transfusion.

In the kitchen, Nick put on the coffee, then sat down at the table. He rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair.

"Looks like it'll be light soon." said Russ, looking out the window.

"Yeah," said Nick, not really wanting to talk. He folded his hands on the table and looked down at them.

The doctor walked into the kitchen. He pumped some water at the sink, washed his hands, then cupped them and doused his face. He grabbed a clean towel from where it was hanging from a hook on the side of the cupboard.

"Coffee smells good," he said, drying his hands.

Nick looked up at him. "How is he, doc?"

The doctor lowered his eyes, "No change," he said.

Russ stepped up to the stove and poured cups of coffee for them and the doctor wearily sat down at the table. He sat long enough to drink about half, then stood up.

"Russ, I want you to get back upstairs and get some rest. I'll be up to check on you a little later, and I'll have Sarah bring you some breakfast." He turned to Nick, "Come on Nick, lets have a look at that leg of yours."

Russ finished his coffee and went back upstairs, holding tightly to the railing as he went to steady himself. Nick reluctantly followed the doctor into his office and submitted to his care. Jarrod looked on as the wound was cleaned and treated. It wasn't too deep and required only antiseptic and rebandaging to satisfy Dr. Merar. The sky was getting lighter. Jarrod walked over and put his hand on Heath's forehead. He looked down sadly at the poor bruised face. His eyes were wet as he looked back up and saw Nick watching him.

"We need to go and talk with Mother and Audra," he said.

"I know," said Nick, "you know, Jarrod, I'm.....well, you're better at this sort of thing than I am, I...I don't know what to say to Mother...."

"All right Nick, why don't you stay here with Heath. I'll go over to the hotel." he looked at the doctor. "I'll bring them back if its ok, I'm sure they'll want to see him."

Dr. Merar nodded his approval to Jarrod. He would have preferred that his patient have peace and quiet, but then, as important as this boy's family was to him, maybe it would help if they did come. He said a little prayer that it wouldn't be to say good bye. That boy was a fighter, he'd proved it by hanging on this long and he prayed that strength would continue.

Jarrod crossed the street and walked to the hotel. The clerk was sleeping with his head down on the front desk when Jarrod walked in. He jumped with a start when Jarrod entered and closed the door behind him.

"Ahem," the clerk cleared his throat and sat up, straightening his tie and running his hands through his hair.

"Uh, hello Mr. Barkley," he said, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

"Hello Thomas," said Jarrod. "Can you tell me what room my mother and sister are in?"

"Uh, yes, sir, uh....number seven."

"Thank you." He walked up the stairs then down the hall to the left. He came to number seven and knocked softly. "Mother?" he said quietly, "Its me, Jarrod."

He heard the rustle of her skirt as she came to the door. "Jarrod, oh, Jarrod," she cried.

She opened the door and he stepped in. She fell into his strong arms, holding him. Audra awoke, "Jarrod!" she said.

She stumbled off the bed and he grabbed her before she fell. He held them both tight and closed his eyes.

"You're all right?" Victoria asked, pulling away and looking at him. She saw the bandage on his right arm.

"Yes, Mother, I'm fine."

"Jarrod," she said, hesitantly, "did you and Nick.... find Heath?"

"Yes, but I need to tell you......"

"We know," she said, "Alan told us."

"Mother," he said, looking at her, then at Audra.

"Heath is at Dr. Merar's. We found him alive."

They both gasped and their eyes widened, their faces full of joy and relief. They reached forward and hugged him, but their excitement waned as they felt Jarrod's stiffness and saw his serious expression. They both took a step back and looked at him, their eyes questioning.

"What Jarrod?" Audra asked.

"Dr. Merar's been working on him, but he's badly hurt." He looked down. "He may not survive."

Audra, who for a moment had been joyful, turned away toward the wall, her face in her hands. Victoria put her arm around her daughter's waist and took Jarrod's hand in hers. He hugged them both close. Victoria closed her eyes and took a deep breath, drawing strength from her oldest son's touch.

"Lets go see him," she said.

The sheriff and major worked through the night. They finished the list of potential witnesses, and discussed theories about the gang. There was a knock on the door.

"Come," said the Major.

The soldier entered. "Sir, he said. "We've finished our search of the premises and inventoried the recovered property."

"And?" said the major.

"Sir, we have not recovered all of the gold."

"Take a detail and expand your search. They must have hidden or buried it somewhere near here. If you've covered all the grounds here, start a search pattern from here in a quarter-mile radius to start. I'll speak to the prisoner again. If its not here, then maybe some of the gang got away after all."

"Yes sir," came the crisp reply.

Jarrod opened the door to the doctor's office and Victoria and Audra entered with him. Dr. Merar stepped out to meet them. "Its all right, you can go in. Nick is with him."

They entered the room. Nick was sitting in a chair next to Heath with his hand on Heath's arm. He stood up when they entered, and walked over to his mother and Audra and hugged them. He and Jarrod stepped back, so their mother and sister could stand close to Heath.

Victoria came forward to Heath's side. She looked down at him, and raised her hand to her mouth. "Oh, no," she said softly.

She saw the bandaged body and the bruises. She reached forward, as if to stroke his brow, but, her hand trembling, lowered it, fearing to hurt him by touching his battered face. She stroked his arm instead, running her hand down until it reached his wrist. She stopped there. His skin was raw from the rope burns and his hands were still swollen from having the tight rope on his wrists for so long. She turned her face away, closing her eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks.

Audra put her arm around her mother's waist and held her for a moment. Then, she leaned forward and took Heath's hand. She spoke softly to him. "Heath, can you hear me? Its Audra. You're safe now. Heath?" she paused.

There was no response.

"Come on, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand."

Nothing.

"Oh Heath, please.....its Audra, can you hear me? Heath?"

She started to cry, and Nick stepped forward to pull her away.

"Audra....Audra, come on ....." Nick gently put his arm around her and pulled.

As she started to let go of Heath's hand, his eyelids moved just a little, and Audra gasped as she felt his hand move in hers.

"Heath!" she cried, "Nick, he knows we're here, he squeezed my hand."

Nick stopped, looking at Heath closely, "Audra, are you sure....?"

Heath stirred, ever so slightly and they saw, definitely this time, his hand move in Audra's.

"Doc!" Nick yelled. "Doc, come quick!"

The doctor came in, "What is it?"

"He moved, doc, he squeezed Audra's hand!"

The doctor quickly grabbed his stethoscope and listened. He checked Heath's pulse and put a hand on his forehead and cheek.

"Well?" Nick asked impatiently.

The doctor looked up, "Looks like he's a little stronger, Nick,...we've got a little better heart rate and breathing."

"That's it Heath," Nick said, stroking his brother's hair gently, "you're gonna get through this. I just know it."

The doctor's expression wasn't as encouraging.

"Now that you're all together here, I can tell you...." he paused. "Yes, this is a good sign, he's a little stronger than last night. But he still has a bullet in him that has got to come out, and he's nowhere near being strong enough for me to operate."

Jarrod looked at the doctor intently, "Doc, its been nearly two days since he was shot, that wound....."

"Yes Jarrod, that's what I'm worried about....but if I try to operate now, while he's this weak, I'm afraid the operation will kill him."

"And if you don't.....?" Victoria asked.

"If I don't get that bullet out soon, infection will set in and he won't have the strength to fight it."

"What are you going to do?" asked Victoria.

The doctor stepped forward and peeled back the bandages, inspecting the wound. "Well, I can wait a little longer, see if he can gain a little more strength. But it'll have to be soon." He replaced the bandages. They heard the door open and the nurse entered.

"You're still up," she said to the doctor.

It was more a statement than a question. He looked at her blankly. Sarah Parker was never one to mince words.

"Doctor, you must get some rest, or you won't be able to help anyone."

He started, "I need to......"

"You need to go lie down," she said firmly. "I can handle things here for a while, and you'll be sure to know if I can't."

He glanced around the room at the Barkley's, they nodded in agreement.

"All right," he said, resignedly. "But, I have some instructions. First, if he's able, I want you to try and get him to take some water. Not too much, I don't want him choking. Second, Sarah, I want you to keep an eye on his temperature and call me immediately if it starts to rise. Watch for any changes in the pulse and respiration too, any sudden change, up or down and you are to call me."

"Yes doctor," Sarah said.

"And you, Nick and Jarrod, you need to rest too."

"All right doc," they said.

"You boys go over to the hotel, get something to eat, and get some rest." Victoria said, "Audra and I will stay here with Heath."

"We'll be right there if you need us," said Jarrod.

Nick and Jarrod walked over to the hotel. As they sat down in the dining room, they saw Alan come down from his room.

"Alan!" Nick called.

"Nick! Jarrod!" he walked over and Nick stood and hugged him. "You made it back...." he paused. "You found your brother then," he said solemnly.

"Alan," Nick said, "he's alive, he's over at doc Merar's."

"Alive?" said Alan, stunned.

"He is in pretty bad shape," said Jarrod.

"Oh, oh, I'm sorry to hear that," said Alan, stammering, "uh, that he's in bad shape, I mean. I was just on my way over there now to see how Russ is doing."

"The doc just sent him to bed, you may as well join us. You can see him later, after we go get some shut eye," Nick said.

After breakfast, Nick and Jarrod went upstairs to the room Victoria had at the hotel, and Alan walked over to the doctor's. Sarah waved him inside and he found Victoria and Audra at Heath's bedside.

"Good Morning, Ladies," he said.

"Alan," Victoria said warmly.

"I just left Nick and Jarrod. They told me about finding Heath." he said. His eyes traveled over the battered form. "Will he recover?" he asked.

"We're not certain, he's been hurt very badly. He still has a bullet in him and the doctor plans to operate."

"I see," he said. He stepped forward. "Can he hear us?" he asked.

"Well, we think maybe," said Audra.

"He seems to respond to Audra," said Victoria.

"Well," he said to Heath, leaning forward, "Heath, its me, Alan. Remember me? You come on and get better, you hear?"

At the sound of Alan's voice, Heaths eyelids moved, and his left hand closed, gripping the blanket in his fist.

"Oh," said Audra, "I think he knows that you're here."

"Yep," said Alan, "I reckon maybe he does."

He stepped back. "Ladies, I think I'll go up and check on Russ now."

He turned and walked up the stairs. He got to the top, turned and walked down the hallway. He found Russ in the first room he came to. Russ was awake, having just finished the breakfast that Sarah had brought up for him.

"Where's the doctor?" Alan asked in a lowered voice.

"In the next room, sleeping," Russ replied.

"You know Heath Barkley's alive?"

"Yeah, they brought him in late, after you left, 'been workin' on him 'til early this mornin'."

"Is he gonna live?"

"Don't know, doc says its too early to tell. He don't look real confident. You were downstairs, how's he look to you?"

"He looks alive, damn it, that's how he looks."

"He sure looked dead when we rolled him into that hole."

"Well he wasn't - and you obviously didn't bury him like you told me."

"We started to, then we had to get outta there, we saw those soldiers searching around in the area and we had to get back to the farm before they saw us."

"I'm gonna go over and talk to the sheriff this morning."

"The sheriff! What do you want to do that for?"

"Shhhh, keep your voice down," Alan admonished. "Listen, he's gonna want to talk to us anyway, we're witnesses remember? Victims. And, we have a business interest you know, we have to check and see if they've recovered our property that was stolen from the train," he winked.

"They have to know that part of that gold shipment is missing by now." Russ said.

"Yes, probably," said Alan.

"And Davis must know it too, if he's been questioned."

"Yes, probably," Alan repeated.

"So what're we going to do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?!" Russ asked.

"Nothing for the moment. If they were on to us they'd have been here by now."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Russ.

"Look, the way I see it, Davis is still figuring on getting his share. He knows that we know he can turn us in. He hasn't turned us in yet. That means maybe he's planning on escaping, and maybe counting on our help to do it."

"And will he get our help?"

"Perhaps. Of course escaping from custody is a dangerous and often fatal business," he grinned.

Dr. Merar looked at his watch. Heath's heart rate was steady, and, he hoped, strong enough to endure what he knew would be a difficult operation. It was late afternoon. He'd had some sleep, awakened after a few hours, and had been about to rise anyway when Sarah had knocked on his bedroom door. He had come downstairs quickly and now stood at Heath's side.

"You were right to get me," he said to Sarah. "His temperature has risen, and I don't think I can wait any longer."

"You're going to operate, then?" asked Victoria, who had stayed along with Audra to sit with Heath.

"Yes. If this boy's going to survive its got to be done now. Sarah, would you please gather my instruments."

"I'll go tell the boys," said Audra.

"Victoria, maybe it'd be better if you went with Audra..."

"All right doctor. We'll get Jarrod and Nick, and we'll come back to your waiting room."

Although she wanted to stay in the room while the doctor operated, she knew it would be difficult, even distracting perhaps to Dr. Merar for her to be there. She thought too that she should be with Nick, who was taking this so hard.

She and Audra walked over to the hotel. They looked in the room but it was empty, and they came back downstairs.

The clerk said, "Oh, Mrs. Barkley, Jarrod left word he was heading for his office, should anyone be looking for him."

"And Nick?"

"Uh, he's next door ma'am, at the saloon."

Victoria thanked the clerk. "Audra, would you please go down and let Jarrod know. I'll go talk to Nick," she said.

Audra headed for Jarrod's law office, and Victoria walked over to the saloon and, upon entering, found Nick sitting alone at one of the tables with a bottle of whiskey. The saloon patrons were startled at the entry of a lady, especially of her standing. She ignored their stares and walked over and sat at the table with him. He looked at her, then poured himself another shot and drank it. He felt the burn of it go down his throat. It actually hurt, and he was glad for the pain.

Victoria looked at him. He had Heath's chain wrapped around his fingers and the coin hung from it in the palm of his hand.

"Nick," she said firmly, "I came to tell you Dr. Merar's getting ready to operate on Heath."

"Now? I thought he was going to wait, 'til Heath got stronger," Nick said.

"I'm afraid he can't wait any longer Nick. Heath's temperature is rising."

Nick looked down at the glass in his hand, turning it. Heath's chain clinked in his hand against the glass. He knew what a rise in temperature meant. Infection. Merar had already said he didn't think Heath was strong enough to survive that. Not strong enough for him to operate this soon either. He filled the glass again and started to raise it to his lips. Victoria put her hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Nick, what are you doing?"

He glared at her, "Leave me alone," he said.

"So this is how you're going to handle it? You're going to sit here and get drunk while your brother fights for his life?" she said angrily.

"Well now, I sure have done him a lot of good bein' around, haven't I?" he said, shrugging her hand off his arm.

He refused to look her in the eye, and focused on the glass of whiskey in his hand. He could see the shine of Heath's coin in his hand through the amber liquid in the glass. He drank deeply and emptied it.

"So you're over here feeling sorry for yourself?" she asked.

"Leave it alone, Mother, leave me alone," he said, looking down. Through the empty glass in his hand, he considered the coin. It was still stained with his brother's blood.

She could see there was no talking to him. She stood up and walked out, feeling the eyes of the patrons follow her out the door.

She walked out as Jarrod and Audra were coming up the sidewalk from Jarrod's office. She spoke to Jarrod briefly when he asked her where Nick was. When she told him, he started toward the saloon but she held his arm and shook her head. He hesitated, then the three of them walked to Dr. Merar's office, to the waiting room.

They settled into the chairs in the room. Victoria sat close to Audra, holding her hand. Jarrod sat down in the chair next to the window. He looked back at the clock on the fireplace mantle and checked it against his watch.

They hadn't been there long, when footsteps pounded on the porch and they heard the jingle of spurs. The door swung open and Nick walked in. He nodded at Jarrod, and Jarrod gave him a half-smile, knowing that as difficult as this was for Nick to bear, that he would not have been able to stay away. Nick walked over to his mother and leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he said, bending his knees so he could look her in the eye. "I just don't want to lose him."

"I know, honey," she said, and gently put her hand on his cheek.

He smiled at her and straightened up, looking toward the doorway to the examination room. "I've got to see him....." he said, and walked to the doorway. He pulled back the curtain and watched as the doctor prepared to operate.

In the examination room, Dr. Merar held Heath's hand and leaned forward to speak to him. "Heath, we're going to get that bullet out, and you've got to be strong son," he said gently. "I'm going to need you to hold on and fight."

He felt Heath's hand close on his, and Heath opened his eyes slightly and looked at him. The doctor was surprised at the strength he felt in the young man's grasp. "Good, son, real good," he said.

He moved to ready his instruments. He considered the bottle of anesthetic, turning it over in his hand. Not enough, he'd be contributing to Heath's suffering, and the pain and shock of the operation could kill him. Too much, and he might never wake up.

Nick stepped through the doorway and Dr. Merar looked up and gave a slight smile as he saw him there.

"I'm almost ready to start," the doctor said, "you can speak to him, if you like, I haven't administered the anesthetic yet."

Nick stepped over to Heath's side, put his hand on his forehead and ran it back, ruffling his hair.

"Hey, Little Brother," he said, "you're gonna be ok, you hear me?"

As he looked, Heath opened his eyes a little, and a small weak smile played on the corners of his mouth. Nick looked down at him and smiled.

The doctor stepped forward and put his hand on Nick's arm.

"I'm ready to start," he said.

"All right," said Nick.

He looked back at Heath and nodded reassuringly. Heath wearily closed his eyes. Nick touched his cheek lightly, then turned away and walked back through the curtain covering the doorway to the waiting room and joined the rest of the family.

Dr. Merar carefully measured the anesthetic, and gave it to Sarah to give to him. He waited a bit, and, assured it had been enough time, arranged his instruments to begin.

He started with a small incision, exploring and hoping he'd find that the bullet wasn't too deep. He probed into the wound. It was worse than he thought. The bullet had struck a rib and fragmented, causing more damage. It was going to take more time.

He worked on, the clock on the wall ticking off the long minutes. He found one fragment, then another, and removed them, but he knew from the size that he hadn't found it all. His efforts aggravated the wound and it was bleeding again. Sarah sponged it and he continued.

The area was swollen, and it was hard to trace the fragment's path. He couldn't quite see the direction to probe. He glanced up at the clock. Too long he thought. This was taking too much time.

Within minutes of the thought crossing the his mind, Heath stirred, and a small groan escaped his lips. Merar knew the anesthetic was wearing off. A little longer, please, just a little longer, he prayed. His eyes strained for the path of the remaining part of the bullet. He looked away for a moment, and reached to adjust the light.

"Doctor!" Sarah exclaimed, "He's not breathing!"

Dr. Merar moved quickly, adjusting the pillow under Heath's neck, tilting his head back, listening for breaths.

They'd heard Sarah's cry in the waiting room and as one, they leaped to their feet. Nick could not stay put where he was. He stepped forward to the doorway and pulled back the curtain. He felt Jarrod grab his arm. "Nick," he said, holding him back. Nick stopped, frozen as the desperate efforts of the doctor played out before him. The doctor had his hand on Heath's throat, looking for a pulse. Sarah looked at him, asking. He shook his head.

"No," said Nick under his breath. He pulled from Jarrod's grasp and stepped forward. He saw that the wound was bleeding heavily, but the doctor ignored it, seeking a sign of life from his patient. Nick watched as the doctor and Sarah exchanged looks.

"Come on son," Merar said, "don't give up on me."

As he used the stethoscope and checked once again, he felt a sudden rise from Heath's chest under his hand and heard him gasp as he drew in a breath, then another.

"There!" he said after a moment, relieved at the resumption of a steady rhythm of Heath's breathing.

Sarah sighed with relief, and Nick leaned wearily against the doorway. Dr. Merar moved back around to the side, and Sarah worked to sponge the blood out of the wound. Dr. Merar began probing once again. He traced the path of the last fragment.

Lucky, he thought as he found it, finally lucky. The rest of the bullet had shot up and back into the shoulder instead of down into the chest when it struck the rib. He removed it, and it landed in the metal bowl with a clink. He carefully cleaned and sutured the wound, then Sarah dressed and bandaged it as he stepped back. He wiped his hands, checked Heath's pulse, and walked out into the waiting room to speak to the family. He looked around and noticed that Nick was gone.

"Howard, how is he?" Victoria asked.

"I got the bullet out, Victoria, but he's awfully weak. I almost lost him. We're going to have to wait and see."

CHAPTER NINE

The wind in his eyes brought tears as the horse galloped. At least he blamed the wind.

Nick had been unable to bear the closeness of Dr. Merar's office and his family after witnessing the doctor's near loss of his brother. He'd walked out of the office, gone to get his horse, and galloped off, not caring what direction. He'd ridden far, and Coco was blowing hard by the time Nick let up and brought him down to a walk.

: Nick looked around, only just now realizing he had ridden out heading in the direction of the old farmhouse. He reined to a halt, and gazed out toward the horizon. His eyes focused far in the distance where the clouds spilled over the rim of the mountains. He marveled over how solid the distant rock formations were, how unchanging the landscape was, and yet how changed he himself was. He cared so much for this brother of his, despite the short time Heath had been with them. He now felt the emptiness of the possibility of his loss.

He was deep in thought when he noticed the rider heading toward him. As the man approached, he recognized that it was Alan. Alan rode up to Nick and stopped, surprised to see him out away from town.

"Nick, what're you doin' all the way out here?" he asked. He worried that Nick had followed him, that maybe he suspected. He eased his right hand down near his gun.

"Just riding," Nick answered, his prior thoughts fading.

"How's your brother doin' ?"

"Doc got the bullet out," Nick said flatly, looking off into the distance.

"Then he'll be all right?"

"I don't know," Nick said, turning to look at Alan, "I just don't know. What are you doin' out here?"

"Well, um, I was out ridin' too," said Alan, "kinda wanted a look around before we leave." His hand hovered near the holster.

"You're leaving?" asked Nick.

"Well, soon," Alan said, "I don't know that our business deal will pan out, kinda missed our opportunity with the robbery and all." He watched Nick's eyes closely, waiting for his reaction.

"If you don't have to go right away, you know my invitation to you and Russ to come out to the ranch still stands," Nick said.

"That's real nice, Nick, but are you sure?" Relieved, Alan relaxed. Nick didn't suspect them after all.

"Sure, I'm sure," Nick said, "come on, lets ride back to town, you get your things and pick up Russ."

They rode back into town. Nick headed for Doctor Merar's, Alan for the hotel.

Nick arrived at Dr. Merar's and walked in. To his surprise, his family was gone. No one was in the waiting room. He walked to the doorway of the examination room where Heath had been.

The room was empty.

Nick's heart sank and he stood there, stunned. There just was a bloodstained sheet on the table where his brother had been. He stepped forward and grasped the edge of the sheet, staring down at it. Hearing a noise behind him, he turned and saw Sarah walk into the room.

"Mr. Barkley," she said, surprised to see him there. She saw that he had the sheet in his hand.

"Now you leave that be," she said, "I was just coming to clean up in here. I don't think the doc would mind if you went up to see him."

"Up... to see him?" Nick said haltingly.

"Why yes," she said. She looked up from cleaning and noticed the expression on his face. "Upstairs... oh, my goodness......you didn't think....oh, Mr. Barkley, your brother is in the upstairs bedroom resting. Mr. Avery was feeling much better and moved over to the hotel. We put your brother in his room to recover."

Nick closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh of relief. He thanked Sarah, then bounded up the stairs, two at a time.

Alan walked into the hotel room and was startled to find Russ there, lying on the bed, his arms crossed behind his head.

"I see you're feeling better," Alan said.

"Yeah," said Russ, "the doc said I was ok to go. The clerk let me in here when I told him I was with you. Sent up this bottle too, on the house - these town folk are pretty sympathetic to us hostages you know."

"Well don't get too comfortable, we're movin' outta here."

"Oh? Where to?"

"The Barkley ranch," he smiled, " 'Little Nick' was serious - wants us to come out and stay a spell. Just like old times," he laughed.

Nick came into the upstairs bedroom at Dr. Merar's and found Audra sitting at Heath's bedside. She looked up as he entered and smiled at him. She got up from the chair she had been sitting in at the bedside and nodded to Nick to take it.

"How is he?" Nick asked.

"See for yourself," she smiled.

Encouraged by Audra's look, he stepped up to the side of the bed. He looked down and put his hand on Heath's arm. To his surprise, at his touch, Heath opened his eyes and smiled weakly at him. Heath tried to say Nick's name, but all he could get out was a whisper. Nick beamed.

"You take it easy, Little Brother, don't try to talk yet. You want some water?" Nick asked him.

Heath managed a slight nod. Nick poured some water, brought the glass back and set it on the table next to the bed. Carefully, he propped Heath up, trying his best not to move him too much and hurt him. Even with his gentle care, Nick saw Heath wince in pain as he propped him up. He looked down at the bruised throat and wondered if his brother would even be able to swallow. Nick held the glass, but Heath was only able to take a little. Nick gently put him back down. He adjusted the pillow and Heath closed his eyes. Nick stayed there with his hand on his brother's shoulder until he heard his breathing turn regular and soft as he fell into sleep.

Assured that Heath was now resting comfortably, Nick patted his arm, got up and then turned and walked out into the hall. Audra followed.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I have to find Mother and let her know we're going to have guests at the house."

"Guests?"

"Yes, Russ and Alan. I've invited them to come out to the ranch for a while."

"She's over at Jarrod's office," Audra replied.

"I'll go over there and tell her now," he said.

He looked back in the room where Heath was sleeping, then headed downstairs. On his way out, Nick saw Dr. Merar at his desk.

"Nick," he said. "I see you've been in to see your brother."

"Yes," Nick said, "we were able to give him a little water too."

"Good, said Dr. Merar, "I think you'll be able to take him home in a couple of days. I think he'll feel better at home, and it'll be easier on your family if they don't have to stay in town."

"Thanks Doc, that's good. I'm on my way to Jarrod's office. I'll tell Mother when I see her, she'll be pleased."

Nick left the doctor's and walked down the street to Jarrod's office. As he walked in, his mother and brother were standing near Jarrod's desk, upon which were large stacks of documents.

"Well," said Jarrod, "looks like I've got my work cut out for me. Its going to take days to refile all of this."

He saw Nick come in. "Hello Nick," he said.

Jarrod was a little unsure of what to say to Nick since watching him walk out of Dr. Merar's office and ride away.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm ok now," he said.

He told them of his plans to have Russ and Alan stay at the ranch and visit. Jarrod decided to stay in town to check on Heath and catch up on his work. Victoria and Audra also decided to stay in town to care for Heath, leaving Nick to escort his guests to the ranch.

Dr. Merar looked up from his desk as he heard the door open. A crisply dressed, young looking soldier walked in, his hat in his hand. The doctor recognized Will from when he had brought Heath in.

"Hello, Private," he said, looking up at him over his glasses.

"Hello Dr. Merar," Will said.

"Come to look in on him, have you?"

"Yes, sir, if its all right. Major Owens wanted me to get some papers from the sheriff, and said I could have extra time to stop in. How's he doing?"

"Well, we got the bullet out, but he's very weak. He's not out of danger yet, but I'm hoping that he'll improve enough in the next couple days that I'll be able to send him home with his family."

"Oh that's good news," Will smiled, "do you think maybe I could see him?"

"His sister Audra is sitting with him now, I don't see why not, except......" The doctor paused, thinking.

"What?" Will asked.

"Well, I want you to be careful. I'm not sure how much he'll remember about what happened, and I don't want him upset. In his present condition it could set him back."

"I'll be careful. Believe me, doc, the last thing I want to do is hurt him," said Will earnestly.

"Then go ahead on up. And you let me know if you see any problems."

Will nodded, then went up the stairs. He reached the first room and looked in. Audra was sitting in a chair at the right side of the bed. She looked up as he appeared in the doorway.

"Hello Miss....you must be Heath's sister Audra," he said.

"Yes," she said, "and you are....let me guess, Will Mitchell?" she asked.

He smiled broadly.

"Mother told me about you. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he said sincerely.

He looked at her, noticing her pleasant smile and lively blue eyes, and how much she looked like her brother. Well, actually the resemblance was more in his memory of how Heath had looked when they met on the train. Now, looking down at the pale man with the bruised swollen face in the bed before him, he could barely believe that this was the same person.

Audra got up from the chair. Sensing that Will might like to be alone with her brother. She made it easier for him, and asked if he wouldn't mind sitting with Heath for a while so she could get some tea downstairs. Will eagerly agreed, and sat down in the chair next to Heath.

As he did, Heath opened his eyes slowly and looked at him. Will looked to see if there was any sign on Heath's face that he recognized him. His question was answered as he saw the corners of Heath's mouth turn up into a little smile. Heath moved his left hand, trying to raise it toward Will.

"Easy now," said Will, reaching for Heath's hand.

He grasped it warmly but gently. Heath looked like he wanted to speak. He was able to squeak out a little whisper.....Will's name. He tried for more, but his throat hurt and he began coughing. His body hurt when he did, and his breathing came in short gasps from the pain.

"Whoa, Heath," Will said, "easy now. Don't you try to talk yet you hear, or you'll get me in trouble with the doc. Then he won't let me come see you."

Will smiled as Heath rolled his eyes at him.

"I just wanted to see how you were doin'. And well, you know, to thank you for what you did for me."

Will looked down at the brave man lying there in front of him, and felt that his simple words were inadequate to express what he felt. He needn't have worried, Heath saw it all in his eyes.

Heath closed his eyes and opened them, the closest thing to a nod he could manage, and he squeezed Will's hand. He wanted so badly to tell Will how good it was to see him, how glad he was that Will had made it out of that place all right. And there was something else.

Something else that was nagging at the back of his mind....something important he needed to tell Will, but what? His brow wrinkled in frustration. Will saw Heath's change in expression, and started to worry that he had caused more distress.

"Now listen," he said, "I'll stop back and look in on you again, soon as the major lets me. We'll talk more when you're feelin' a little better."

Audra stepped back in the room, carrying a tray with some tea, and a cup of broth for Heath. She wasn't sure she'd get any in him, but wanted to try just the same. She offered some tea to Will, and he thanked her but he told her he had to be going. He gave Heath's hand one more squeeze, and smiled, then said his good-byes and left.

Heath watched him go, then relaxed, closing his eyes. The coughing spell had left him feeling weak and sore, and the nagging thought left for the moment. He started to think about sleep. But Audra nudged him awake and started talking about broth.

She needed Dr. Merar's help to sit him up, and went back downstairs to get him. He came up to the room, and together, they started to help Heath to a sitting position. He was impatient with the fussing, and Audra thought she could read that familiar expression on his face.

"Don't you give me that look," she said firmly. "You are just going to have to put up with us caring for you, at least for a while." She gave him her most serious look, which melted into a smile, as she saw the teasing little smirk on his lips.

He was thirsty, and although he would have to put up with the indignity of being fed, the broth actually sounded good to him. As they brought him upright, he tried to sit up as best he could. Suddenly, he started to feel nauseous and the room began to spin. Dr. Merar saw the changed look on his face and held on to Heath's good arm as he realized he was losing consciousness. Audra gasped as she saw her brother's head fall forward. Dr. Merar eased his limp body back in the bed.

"I was afraid of this," he said, checking Heath's pulse against his watch.

"Oh Doctor, what happened?" she asked fearfully.

"Its the head injury," he said, "I'm afraid it may be worse than we thought, we're going to have to be careful with him. Audra, he may experience more blackouts like this before he recovers."

Nick arrived at the ranch with Russ and Alan. He gave them a tour around and showed off the progress they'd made since Alan and Russ had worked there. They went to the main house, and Nick helped Silas get them settled into guest rooms. They looked around at the fine furnishings, and Russ remarked on how different it was to be a guest in the house instead of a ranch hand in the bunk house.

"Just wait 'til dinner, Nick said, it'll be a little different than what you remember too," he said, smiling.

Nick left them alone to relax and clean up before dinner, and went to the barn to have Ciego take care of their horses.

"Soon," Alan said to Russ, once they were alone, "we'll have places like this too."

"Been waitin' a long time," said Russ.

"Do you see how he is?" said Alan, "so eager to show it all off too. That's how they are, the rich," he said with a biting tone.

"This still might not work you know," Russ said cautioning, "Nick's brother could still ruin everything for us if he identifies us before we get the gold."

"I know. But we can't get at it yet, not with the soldiers still around. If it looks like he's gonna get better we'll have do something."

Over the next couple days at the ranch, they spoke of old times, reminiscing with Nick. When asked, they were always vague about their lives since leaving the ranch. They told some stories, and had some laughs, and with his mind on Heath, Nick didn't think much of it.

In the mornings, after Nick left the ranch to head into town to see Heath, Alan and Russ were on their own. As it was still very early in the year, and the main work of the spring yet to come, they saw very few of the ranch hands around. They were free to wander the land as they pleased, and while Nick was in town, they took advantage of it.

One or the other had ridden out regularly to monitor the cavalry's efforts to locate the missing gold. As long as the soldiers were near where they'd hidden it, they'd kept a safe distance, but, one afternoon, the soldiers moved off, and they were finally able to move the gold from its hiding place and onto the Barkley ranch.

Victoria and Audra had stayed in town to tend to Heath, and after a few days, Dr. Merar had decided to let them take him home. He'd improved quite a bit, and the wound was healing, but he was troubled with dizziness and still had some blackouts when they tried to sit him up.

They'd tried to get him to talk about what had happened. He hadn't said much on his own, and they weren't sure how much he'd remembered. Victoria felt it was important to discuss it, to help him cope with what had happened, but it was difficult for him to talk. His throat still hurt and he tired easily.

He seemed more distressed when Nick was there. After Nick spoke to him more about the incident, memories about what had happened started to return. Many came when he was asleep, as flashes in his dreams.

Nick was sitting with him one afternoon during one of these times, as Heath lay in the bed asleep but in a cold sweat and thrashing. Nick sat on the edge of the bed and tried to hold him to keep him from hurting himself, all the while calling his name until finally he awoke.

"Heath....come on Heath, wake up, its just a dream," Nick said firmly.

Heath came awake with a start, and opened his eyes to find Nick there holding him.

"Hey, it's ok, I'm here," Nick said.

Heath took a deep breath and sank back in the bed. His heart was pounding.

"Nick," he said, his voice in a rough whisper, "I thought someone.... was after you.....I was trying to tell you...."

"I'm all right, just you and me here."

"There's more Nick.....something I need to remember...to tell you...about what happened.......I just can't...."

"Take it easy," Nick said, "it'll wait, maybe after we get you home."

"No!" Heath said, frustrated. "There's something important."

He grabbed Nick's arm, with a strength that surprised Nick. It actually hurt. He pulled on Nick's arm, and Nick realized he was trying to sit up.

"I think you're in danger.....Nick," Heath struggled to get up.

"Wait a minute, Heath, take it easy......."

Horrified, Nick saw Heath's eyes roll back and he passed out, falling back on the pillow.

"Doc!," Nick cried.

Dr. Merar came running. "What is it Nick?"

Nick relayed what had happened. The doctor checked Heath over, shaking his head.

"Nick, I think we're pushing him to talk about what happened too soon. I think we should wait and let him bring this up when he's ready, not when we think he should be ready. At this time even discussing it might be setting him back. Please tell your family he's just too sick and I feel that its best to wait to talk anymore about it. I'm going to ask Will to hold off on his visits, and, for the time being I don't even think you should be speaking of Alan and Russ in front of him. You might just spare him the painful memories for a while."

The day dawned when they'd be bringing Heath home, and Nick was in the barn early, harnessing the pair of horses for the wagon. He whistled brightly. He was in a good mood. His brother was improving, and he had enjoyed seeing his old friends for a few days.

Alan and Russ were in the main house having coffee. After serving them, Silas left the room, and the two quietly discussed their plans.

"It's time we move on," said Russ. "The gold is safe. I've got it in saddlebags, ready to go. The cavalry doesn't suspect us."

"You're right," said Alan, "there's just the little problem of details. I think I may have one of them solved."

"What's that?" asked Russ.

"I found out that the soldiers closed up their operation at the farm. Most of the unit is pulling out to move the rest of that shipment. They're leaving a few behind to try and find out what happened to the rest of the gold. They moved Davis to the Stockton jail late last night."

"You think you can get to him?"

"Won't need to," he pulled a small vial from his pocket.

"Is that the same stuff you used back in Carson City?"

"Sure is."

"That was somethin'. They never did suspect that fella died of anything but natural causes. So how you gonna get it to him?"

"Well, I just happened to find out who prepares the meals for the prisoners there, a nice old widow named Eloise. Should be some way to make an addition to her cookin'," he grinned.

"Then we'll be going to town today."

"Yeah, probably best we keep out of sight of the other little 'detail'."

"You mean Heath?"

"Yeah. They're bringing him home today. Nick said they hadn't told Heath we were visiting yet. That he might not even remember us. Seems they've been trying to shelter him from anything that might remind him of the robbery 'til he gets a little better."

"What are we going to do about him?" Russ asked. "We can't count on him not remembering us."

"I know," said Alan.

"Can you use that stuff on him?"

"I've only got enough left for one. Besides, I think we'll get our chance. Just have to figure how to get him alone for a bit."

Their planning ended abruptly as Nick walked in the room. He greeted them cheerily, and poured some coffee. They told him they were planning to go into town, maybe stay for a day or two before heading out. Nick was happy to have the company to ride in to Stockton with, and assured them he'd see them off when they left. They finished breakfast, then headed for town. Once there, they split up, Nick going to meet up with the family and bring Heath home, Alan and Russ to follow through on their plans.

The family was already waiting when Nick pulled the wagon out in front of Dr. Merar's, and he eagerly went inside to help carry Heath out. Heath insisted on going out upright, on his feet. The doctor was none too happy about it, but relented.

Heath's confidence was short-lived, however, as weakness and dizziness overwhelmed him, and he nearly blacked out when they got him to his feet. But, with a brother on each side, holding him up, he did walk out. They got Heath settled in the back of the wagon without too much difficulty, said their thank yous to Dr. Merar and Sarah, and headed for home. Nick drove the wagon with Victoria beside him. Audra rode in back with Heath, and Jarrod rode his horse alongside.

Their trip home was uneventful, and by that afternoon, Heath was settled in, Silas had taken over his care, and the family was able to finally relax.

The next day, Victoria and Audra were up early, fussing over Heath, and catching up with the household. Jarrod went into town to work at his office, and Nick settled down to the chores of the ranch.

Victoria smiled, she noticed that every few hours it seemed Nick found some reason to come back inside, and he looked in on Heath each time. She knew Heath was feeling stronger, and saw that he was able to sit up for longer periods of time without the dizziness setting in. She was glad to have him at home, and saw that Silas was much more successful at getting food in him than Sarah or Dr. Merar.

Despite Dr. Merar's concerns, she still wanted to try to talk to him about what had happened. Heath kept so much inside him so much of the time. It was often difficult for her to judge when he might open up to her, but she decided to abide by the doctor's instructions and give it more time. She hoped that maybe in a day or so Heath would bring it up on his own.

When Jarrod returned from town that evening he went directly upstairs to spend some time with Heath. He discussed a few contracts he was working on, but Heath was tired, and even joked with him about the fussing all day from the rest of the family. Heath soon drifted off to sleep with him there, and Jarrod smiled, reassured that his brother was getting better.

When Jarrod joined the rest of the family downstairs for dinner, he brought word of the mysterious death of Davis in the Stockton jail. It added to the mystery of the missing gold, and the sheriff was troubled by this turn of events. He had asked Jarrod when he might speak with Heath about the robbers and what had happened. Jarrod had told him that the doctor advised that they not discuss it with Heath yet, but that perhaps in a day or so it might be all right.

Jarrod had also informed them that the seamstress let him know that a dress Victoria had ordered for Audra was ready at her shop. Audra was delighted, and she and Victoria decided to go into town the next day with Jarrod. Nick had plenty to do to keep him around the ranch, especially with the loss of Heath's help. Between Nick looking in and Silas caring for him, the rest of the family were sure Heath would be fine through the day without them.

The next day, after Jarrod, Audra, and Victoria left for town, Nick rode out with Ciego and a couple of hands to move some horses to better pasture. It wasn't far from the main part of the ranch, and he figured on being away from the house just a few hours. He knew Silas could take care of Heath until he returned.

Alan and Russ mounted their horses. They'd been watching the house from a distance for some time, and had seen the women and Jarrod leave that morning. When they saw Nick and the hands ride out, they knew the opportunity to rid themselves of their last 'little detail' was at hand.

They quietly rode to the main house, coming in though the fields, and off the main road. They dismounted, left their horses out of sight behind one of the sheds, and entered the house quietly. They looked around for Silas, knowing he'd still be there.

Silas was humming around in the kitchen. He'd just seen to getting some soup into Heath, and had taken some bread and cheese up to him too. All Heath would eat was the soup. Silas had left the bread and cheese on a plate at the bedside hoping Heath might try a bit later. Although the family seemed satisfied with the improvement in the boy's appetite, Silas worried that he'd never get his strength back, and he fussed over him like a mother hen.

He went to the pantry and stood looking at the items on the shelves, wondering what he might make next to tempt Heath to eat. The blow came silently from behind, and Silas crumpled to the floor.

CHAPTER TEN

Not long after Silas had left his room, Heath decided to try and get out of bed. He had waited until he was alone, wanting to try it himself without the family and Silas fussing over him.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He held himself there, leaning heavily on his left arm. He felt the dizziness try to return and he fought it. He sat there a moment, gathering himself. He straightened the long nightshirt he was wearing. He put his right arm down and started to push up on to his feet. Pain shot through the right shoulder and sat him back quick.

Ok, he thought, that's not going to work. He leaned back on the left arm, and put no weight on the right. With his feet on the floor, he started to stand, leaning with his left hand on the bed. There, he thought, just a little bit more. He straightened his knees, stood, and took his hand off the bed.

He felt triumphant, but just for a moment, as the light-headed feeling returned full strength, and he was forced to lie back down. Still, he was happy for this small victory over his infirmity, and planned to try again later. The effort had left him feeling quite tired however, and he sunk his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.

He'd been asleep for a little while, and awoke when he felt a heavy pressure against his chest. His damaged ribs burned with pain, and he opened his eyes to find Alan sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, his hand on his chest, holding him down.

"You!" Heath said, dismayed.

"I see you remember me," Alan said.

Heath now remembered all too well. Sharp visions poured through his mind and he remembered........ the last time he saw Alan and Russ they were planning to kill Nick.

"Where's Nick?" Heath growled.

"Didn't see him around......found that servant of yours downstairs though."

Heath's eyes widened....Silas.

"Oh, don't worry about him, we didn't kill him. He's knocked out in the pantry downstairs, never knew what hit him," said Alan.

"And, as for your brother, you should be very glad he's not here now if you care for his safety. He doesn't suspect us. He'll find you here later, dead of course, after we're long gone. It'll look nice and peaceful......they'll be sorry you didn't survive your injuries after all."

Heath struggled and tried to sit up, but Alan moved his hand from the center of Heath's chest to the bandaged part and shoved him back down. Heath gasped from the pain.

"Now Heath, my friend, seems to me like we've done this before," he said, smiling. "Only last time I didn't quite finish the job, did I? You can rest assured I won't make that mistake again."

He yanked the pillow from behind Heath's head and pressed it over his face. Heath struggled as hard as he could. He grabbed Alan's wrists and tried to pry him off, but his injured right side was too weak. He pulled hard on Alan's arms, and his grasp was strong enough that Alan had to fight to keep him down. Alan leaned hard on the pillow. A few moments passed........a few more, then he finally felt Heath's struggles weakening, his hands losing their grip.

Downstairs, Nick came in through the back door and walked through the kitchen. Moving the horses had gone smoothly, and he'd finished sooner than he thought. He hoped he had made it back to the house in time to have lunch with Heath.

The house was quiet and there was no sign of Silas. He looked around and shrugged, figuring Silas might be out in one of the storage buildings. Or, more likely up with Heath, he thought, smiling at the thought of the care Silas took with his brother. He lightly trotted up the stairs, turned down the hall toward Heath's room, and swung open the door.

At first, it didn't register with him what was happening. Alan was standing over Heath with his back to Nick, and .........Nick stared in startled disbelief......he was trying to smother him with a pillow. Nick realized what was happening as he saw his brother's hands fall away from Alan's arms.

"Alan!" he cried, "What are you doing?! Stop!" Alan let go of the pillow and whirled around, his hand dropping toward his gun. But Nick was faster, and had already drawn down on him before Alan could even take his pistol from the holster. Alan straightened up and raised his hands away from his sides.

"Take the gun out, Alan, real slow," Nick ordered, "toss it over here."

Alan complied, and Nick kicked the gun out of reach. "Now, get away from him, over there. And keep your hands where I can see them," Nick ordered, motioning Alan away from Heath.

Alan moved away from where he'd been on the right side of the bed and went toward the corner of the room opposite the door. Keeping Alan in sight and his gun trained on him, Nick moved to the bed, and sat on the right edge. He grabbed the pillow and tossed it aside with his free hand. He grasped Heath's arm.

"Heath? You all right?" he said to his brother, keeping an eye on Alan.

The arm felt limp and lifeless.

"Heath?" Nick put his hand on Heath's ashen cheek, his head fell to the side.

"No.......... Heath, oh no," he said desperately, and shook him.

There was no response. Defeated, and full of sorrow, he realized that once again he'd arrived just that much too late for Heath.

He glared back at Alan, and rose to his feet.

"What the hell have you done?.......... Alan, why?" he cried, anguished.

"Why?" said Alan. "Gold of course, that's why."

"I don't understand," said Nick, sorrowfully, glancing down at Heath's unmoving form.

"Gold, the root of all evil, my boy, enough to make a man sell his own mother."

"Or murder a friend's brother?" Nick said, hatefully.

"Precisely," said Alan.

"So you were in this all along? The train robbery? You were part of it?"

"Of course."

"You'll hang for this Alan," Nick said, taking a step forward. "If I don't kill you myself." His eyes flashed with anger, and he raised the gun higher. His hand shook as he pointed the weapon.

Nick heard the click of a gun behind him.

"Put down your gun Nick," said Russ from the doorway.

He stepped forward behind Nick. "Nice and slow.....Now!" he shoved the barrel of the gun into Nick's back.

Nick hesitated for a moment, then lowered his gun. Russ took it from him.

"I was wondering where you were. You too Russ?" Nick said bitterly.

"Him too?" Alan laughed, lowering his hands and stepping around past Nick to stand with Russ. "Who do you think it was buried your brother, Nick?"

"Yeah," Russ said, grinning. "But I ain't the one that shot him, now was I Alan?"

Nick's eyes burned with hate. "He knew, didn't he?" he said, nodding toward Heath. "That's why you've done this."

"I'm afraid that's so, Nick. But, we really hadn't set out to kill him. We didn't know that it was your brother our associates had taken until after we left the train. It was too late then," said Alan.

" 'Course even then, we might not have had to 'cept he saw us... overheard our plans," said Russ.

"So you shot him and left him in that hole to die," said Nick sullenly.

"Now Nick," Alan said calmly, "we're not really the devils you'd make us out to be. We really thought he was dead when we put him in that grave. Tough boy, your brother."

"Well at least it looks like you've done it right this time Alan," Russ said, looking at Heath.

"Yes, except now we have another 'detail' to sort out."

"I don't understand," Nick said, "you two just weren't like this, not then."

"Of course you don't understand," said Alan, "you were born to all this." He waved his hand around the comfortably furnished room.

"My family worked for this, worked hard and fought hard. It was built from practically nothing," Nick replied angrily.

"Well we worked hard too," said Russ, "for years, and all it got us was trail dust and sore backs. We wanted the life you had Nick, with the big house and the land."

"Enough to kill for it," growled Nick.

"Yes, enough to kill for it. And we'll finally have it too," said Alan. "That gold is our stake. Your brother......well, that was unfortunate."

"Unfortunate," Nick said bitterly.

Alan walked over to where Nick had kicked his gun and picked it up, holstering it. "Now, I think we need to tidy up in here," he said.

"Nick, you go over and get that pillow and put it back under your brother's head. I want things to look right. You know, like he went peaceful and all."

"And how are you going to explain my death?" Nick said, knowing they'd have to kill him too.

"Well...." Alan mused, "how about suicide?......yes, upon discovering the demise of your poor brother here, you were so despondent you did yourself in. That'll do. Now get that pillow."

Russ shoved Nick with the end of the gun, and Nick reached down and picked up the pillow. He walked forward to the bedside, lifted his brother's head and placed the pillow underneath. He put Heath's head back gently, then straightened up, still standing beside the bed.

"They won't believe that," Nick said.

"Oh no? Won't believe that you care that much for him?" said Alan, taunting. It was meant to hurt and Nick knew it.

But it did hurt. As he stood there in front of Heath with the gunmen behind him, he looked down at his brother's face. He leaned forward and put his hand on Heath's cheek. One last time, he thought sadly, I wasn't here for you. Probably never knew how much I did care.

Suddenly, Nick's eyes opened wide and he almost choked. At Nick's touch, Heath opened his eyes and winked at him. Then closed them again, with the hint of a little smile in the corner of his mouth.

Nick's heart leaped and he smiled. Then he wondered what to do. Ok, he thought, his heart pounding, Heath's all right, and he knows what's going on... has something in mind, but what? And what condition was Heath really in to be able to do something?

As the thoughts played in his mind, he saw Heath's left hand move ever so slightly toward the side of the bed. Nick was still between the gunmen and Heath, blocking their view, but he knew he couldn't just stand there for long. Just what was Heath up to?

His hand moved a little further, and Nick noticed the nightstand beside the bed. There was a pitcher with water, a glass, a plate with bread and cheese, and a knife.

"All right Nick, it's time to say goodbye," Alan said, "you may not believe it, but I am sorry things turned out this way."

"I'll just bet you are," said Nick, still with his back to the men.

He felt the end of Russ's gun in his back and remembered that Alan still had his gun holstered ... he hoped. He saw Heath open his eyes slightly and look at him. Nick nodded and glanced toward the nightstand. Heath nodded, almost imperceptibly. Nick hoped he'd understood. Their bond was so close, he often felt Heath knew what he was thinking. He prayed this was one of those times.

Russ raised his gun to Nick's head and started to pull back the hammer.

"You know," Nick said, "it won't look like suicide if my gun's not fired."

"You're right," said Alan, "and how thoughtful of you to correct our oversight.....Russ... Mr. Barkley's gun?"

Russ uncocked his gun, holstered it, and reached for Nick's gun tucked in his belt. In the brief moment before Russ could pull the gun from his belt, Nick spun around and faced him. At the same instant, Heath grabbed the tablecloth under the items on the nightstand and yanked it. The pitcher and glass crashed to the floor and shattered.

Alan froze, startled at the noise and the movement from Heath. Nick landed a punch to Russ's jaw, knocking him backwards. Russ grabbed for Nick's gun in his belt and Nick grabbed his hand. They fought to control the weapon.

Heath rolled off the bed onto the floor, grabbing the knife off the plate as he went. Alan recovered and drew his gun. He aimed toward the two struggling men, trying for an opening to shoot Nick if Russ could get clear. Nick's gun fired as the two men grappled, a shot hit the ceiling, then two more in the walls.

Alan moved for position, and raised his gun. Heath rolled over and pushed himself up to a crouching position on the floor. He fought the dizziness, and the right shoulder hurt terribly but he forced it to work. He lifted the knife high with his right hand and threw hard. The blade hit its mark. Alan collapsed to his knees and cried out, the knife deep in his chest. His gun clattered to the floor. He rolled onto his side and lay motionless, his eyes staring at Heath, a shocked look on his face.

Nick and Russ continued in their deadly struggle for the gun. Nick used his weight and pulled Russ around, slamming his hand and the gun into the wall. It went off again and the bullet smashed the lamp on a table near the bed. Two more shots fired as they fought.

Heath started to black out. The room was spinning by now, and he fell back on the floor and lay against the rail of the bed, unable to help Nick further.

With the last of the shots fired, the gun was no longer a threat, and Nick let go of Russ's gun hand and swung. His fist connected loudly with the side of Russ's face. Russ staggered with the blow. Nick hit him again, and again, driving him backwards. He finally fell back over a chair, and hit the floor hard, unconscious. Nick walked over and pulled Russ's gun from its holster. He looked down at this man who had caused so much pain. The urge to kill washed over him, and he stood with the weapon in his hand.

He glanced to the side and saw that Alan was dead. He thought for a moment, and realized that revenge would not help what he was feeling. He turned the gun away from Russ and tucked it in his belt.

He turned and looked for Heath, and found him motionless on the floor next to the bed. He walked over and knelt beside him.

"Heath...." Nick, said, "Hey, Little Brother....come on...."

Heath opened his eyes, he was still awfully dizzy. "Nick, you're all right?"

"Yeah," said Nick, "I'm fine, it's you I'm worried about."

There was blood on Heath's arms and his nightshirt. Nick saw it, those stray shots... he thought. He looked for a wound. Heath saw the concerned look on Nick's face and grasped his arm.

"I'm ok, Nick," Heath said.

Nick looked into his brother's blue eyes, "You're bleeding, Heath, I think you were hit...."

"Nick, no, I'm ok, its the glass..." Heath said.

He raised his hands to show Nick. There were cuts on his arms and hands from the shattered glass on the floor where he had rolled off the bed. Nick sighed and shook his head, smiling.

"You sure do know how to worry a person," he said, and ruffled Heath's hair with his hand.

They heard the thumping of footsteps, running in the hall outside the bedroom. Still kneeling on the floor, Nick turned and drew the gun. The sheriff and Jarrod appeared at the door of the bedroom with their guns drawn, their faces anxious, breathing hard.

"Nick!" Jarrod yelled, seeing Nick and Heath on the floor, "You two all right?"

"Yeah, we're ok," said Nick

"We heard shots......"

The sheriff and Jarrod stepped into the room. They saw Alan and Russ on the floor. "Dead?" asked the sheriff. "Just the one." Nick replied, nodding toward Alan.

Jarrod walked over to where Heath was and bent down. "Heath......." Jarrod hesitated, seeing the blood on his hands and shirt.

"Careful Jarrod," Heath said, "there's broken glass."

Jarrod half-smiled, still concerned, and helped Nick get Heath back up on the bed.

"What are you doing here?" Nick asked, "How did you know?"

"Well, all that paperwork finally paid off, although a bit too late I can see," said Jarrod.

"Yes," said the sheriff, "Jarrod brought me an old deed, to that farmhouse they kept you at Heath. Seems it used to belong to a Daniel Redlin, Alan's father. He brought that in just after I finished speaking with Eloise and she said that a man fitting Alan's description had stopped to see her not too long before that fella Davis died in my jail."

"It didn't look good, and we didn't see these two in town. Thought we'd ride out here and warn you Nick. We heard the shots as we were riding up," said Jarrod.

"Silas..." Heath said, worried, "Jarrod, did you find Silas downstairs?"

"Yes," said Jarrod, "he's in the..."

"Right here Mister Heath," said a voice from the hallway. Silas walked into the room, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

"I thought we had you sitting down, downstairs, you're hurt." Jarrod said.

"Oh I'm fine, just fine... couldn't stay down there sittin', worryin' 'bout you boys up here." Silas said. "And look at you, Heath, all cut up......lemme have a look at you here, I'll go get the liniment." Silas walked out of the room shaking his head and mumbling something they couldn't quite hear about the Barkleys and trouble.

The sheriff left, and took Russ in custody with him, along with the two horses they'd found tied out back, and the gold in their saddle bags. Jarrod sent Ciego to town with a wagon and Alan's body.

Victoria and Audra returned home from town later. When they came in Nick and Jarrod sat them down and told them what had happened. They were shocked, and thankful that Nick and Heath were all right.

After hearing what Silas had gone through, Victoria insisted that he take time off to rest, and she and Audra prepared dinner. Nick brought his own plate and one for Heath up to Heath's room.

"Let me see here," Heath said, smiling, "Mother gave Silas time off so you could come fuss over me instead, Nick?"

"I just want to make sure you're doing your best to heal, no room here for a fella to lay back with his feet up all day," Nick said grinning.

"I know..." Heath said, "... 'this is a working ranch'...."

"You bet it is boy, and I'm already gettin' tired of doing your share of the chores around here," Nick joked.

They smiled, and ate, trying to guess which part of the dinner Audra had cooked. Then, Heath got a serious look on his face. He set his fork down and looked at Nick.

"Nick, I'm sorry," he said.

"Sorry for what?" Nick asked, confused.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about Alan and Russ. I wish it had come back to me sooner," Heath said. "I almost got you killed Nick."

Nick looked into his brother's eyes and saw that Heath was really hurting over this. He set his plate on the table and pulled his chair closer to the bed.

"Heath," he said, "its me that's sorry. I let you down, wasn't there when you really needed me." He looked down, shaking his head. "I should have never let them drag you off that train. Then out in the hills, if I'd gone just a little farther on that search you wouldn't have had to lay there so long without help. And today, I left you today and they almost..."

"Now hold on Nick," Heath said firmly. "You didn't let them take me off the train, you were shot in the process, Doc Merar told me."

Nick looked at his brother, surprised. "He wasn't supposed to talk to you about it...we didn't want to upset you."

"Well you didn't hide that limp from me very well did you? I had to ask him," he smiled.

"Oh," he said.

"And you most likely saved me from being buried alive out there in the hills."

Nick looked up at him, raising one eyebrow.

"Well something scared them off before they finished....most likely was you, searching. And today, yeah, today they almost won, but Nick, you were there... right on time, and I wouldn't be here now if you weren't. So you're wrong Big Brother....you really have been there for me, every time."

Nick smiled warmly, his eyes full of love for this brother of his.

"And now, Nick," Heath said with a grin, "there is something you can do for me."

"What's that?" Nick asked eagerly.

"You can help me out of this bed and downstairs. I'm tired of bein' up here and I want to see what Audra's concocted for dessert. Come on now, help me up."

Nick grinned, looking at Heath's nightshirt. "Well, lets get some pants on you first. And, Heath, are you sure...?"

"Yes, I'm sure...I'd like to go downstairs."

"Not that, I mean, are you sure you want to try Audra's dessert?" Nick said with a devilish smile.

"Well now, maybe you're right Nick, that may be the most dangerous thing we've faced all day!" he laughed.

END