The darkness is a comforting blackness which surrounds a person like a blanket. The darkness of night frees a person’s soul, relaxing it as one stands hidden from the eyes of the world, the moon and stars above responsible for making one feel inconsequential among the vastness of the sky.

The darkness of night is a world all of it’s own, it has it’s own sounds, it’s own odors, it’s own life. It covers the land for only a short period of time each day and, yet, is capable of making a strong impression in that period of time. It can be a time of peaceful slumber or the time of unwanted nightmares.

To the determined group of men headed through the darkness of the night towards a destination – it was a time of fear. Fear of the unknown when they reached their goal. Fear of the condition the missing men would be in, if in fact they were at the destination at all. The group fought with their minds, fighting to stay positive and away from dark, terrifying thoughts which threatened to swallow them as they rode.

Topping a small hill, the group reined in their mounts, all eyes seeing the light beckoning them from the windows of the Barkley line shack. It was a spot of yellow in the blackness on the horizon. The moon on this night was only a sliver of itself, not allowing for much light to fall on the earth from it’s royal position in the sky.

“Duke and Joe, stay here with the horses.” ordered Nick climbing down and taking off the jingling spurs from his boots. “We should be able to get close before they know we’re here.”

The others followed the lead of the man in the clothes which matched the darkness, the man searching for the other half of his soul. Slowly, the group crept closer to the cabin which encased the yellow light, spreading out and surrounding the shack of wood. Peering in the one window of the building, Scotty motioned with a sideways shake of his head. Leaning over, he whispered into Nick’s ear, “I don’t see anyone from the window.”

Nodding, Nick stood to the side and turned the knob on the door. Pushing it open, the door fell open. Peering around the door frame, Nick’s quick glance showed an empty room and his heart fell to his feet. Stepping through the door, a strong arm wrapped itself around his neck, cutting off his supply of air and his gun was taken out of his right hand.

“Move and I’ll blow your head off.” were the words growled low in his ear causing Nick’s stomach to twist viciously. Dr. Merar was right – Heath’s head injury was confusing him.

Jarrod entered the small cabin and froze at the sight of Heath holding a gun to his big brother’s head. Heath’s eyes were narrowed, watching Jarrod intently, his hand holding the gun shook slightly. Jarrod’s quick glance took in the pallor and blood on his face, the pained eyes.

“HEATH!” urged Jarrod, his hands in the air. “Don’t shoot, Heath! It’s Nick and Jarrod.”

Jarrod’s words rang out into the darkness. Fred ran to the door and called in, “Marshal Thomson! It’s Sheriff Maden from Stockton. I’m coming in, don’t shoot.”

Putting his gun in it’s holster, Fred walked in and nodded, “Marshal, you can let him go. He’s not one of them.”

“Okay, sheriff. Sorry about that, sir.” apologized Heath.

The pistol lowered and Nick gulped in air when his throat was released. Waving off Jarrod’s concerns, Nick turned, grabbed the gun from the lowered hand and growled angrily, “Boy, you’re lucky you’re hurt or I’d spank you with this pistol, Mr. Cantankerous!”

Nick’s angry glare turned to concern when Heath flinched and leaned against the wall. His hands holding his head, fighting the pain the memory flashes were causing, he slid to the floor when his legs gave out.

Nick and Jarrod dropped to kneel in front of their brother, his moan of pain tearing into them. Reaching over, Nick grabbed the strong arms, his voice frantic with concern.

“Heath! What is it? Heath?”

The blonde head slowly raised and the eyes blinked rapidly, his breaths were coming in gasps. Tentatively, his hand reached upwards towards the tanned cheek and Heath tilted his head slightly.

“I know you somehow, don’t I?” whispered Heath, his eyes pained and confused.

“Yes, you know all of us.” confirmed Jarrod softly. “Heath, where’s Hiriam?”

Closing his eyes, Heath grimaced, “I’m not sure.”

“Take your time, Heath.” replied Nick softly squeezing the strong shoulder, frowning at the shaky hand which wiped the blood off the cut cheek. “Who cut you, boy?”

“Benton.” whispered Heath, his eyes looking into the hazel ones reflected a moment of clarity. “Nevada. That’s where they took him. Nevada.”

“When did they leave Heath?” asked Jarrod. “Do you remember?”

Trying to organize his thoughts, Heath squeezed his forehead against the pain. “Not long, I’m not sure. Sorry, it’s not clear.”

“That’s okay, Heath. We’ll find him.” smiled Nick.

Looking up, Heath’s eyes stared at the sight of the man leaning over the owner of the hazel eyes. Jarrod glanced toward where Heath was staring, his eyes taking in Nick kneeling and Scotty leaning over the back of him.

The picture to Jarrod was reminiscent of the day the hand, Scotty, had brought the injured Nick in front of him on his horse, albeit, minus the horse and the blood on Nick’s head.

“They’ll kill him. Grandfather, he’ll be dead.”

Gasping for air, Heath struggled to stand, pushing away the hands of the men in front of him, his efforts only earning him a fall into the cushiony darkness.

Benton knelt by the former marshal, lifting his head and grinning at the unconscious man. Taking out his knife, he relished in the apprehension showing in the brown eyes staring at him and his prey. Slowly he slid the blade of the knife softly across Heath’s neck while Sheila laughed at the action.

“Please if you leave Heath here, I will sign whatever you want.” restated Hiriam, his voice pleading, worried eyes resting on his unconscious grandson’s form. His only thought now was to keep the young man safe and get him out of the hands of these two vile people.

Sheila looked over at Benton who nodded and released his hold on the blonde hair, “Okay, but you better not try anything, old man. Let’s go.”

Benton pulled Hiriam to his feet and tied his hands behind him while Sheila held a pistol pointed at him to prevent any sudden movements. Walking him outside, Benton put the older man in the saddle.

Sheila stood back from the men, the gun steady in her small hand. When Benton walked back, he stopped near her, Hiriam watching every movement, afraid they would go back into the cabin and kill his unaware grandson.

“If he’s alive, he could positively identify us. Then the will’s no good.” whispered Sheila. “We have to finish him off.”

“When we get to that deserted farmhouse Barrett showed me, I’ll sneak back and finish him off. We need to keep him thinking his grandson’s still alive.” advised Benton. “As long as he thinks he is, he’ll sign the will.”

Nodding, Sheila handed him the gun and smiled, “You think of everything.”

“I try.” smirked Benton helping Sheila up behind the older man. “You two will have to ride together til we can get another horse.”

“Dammit, do you have to torture me, too? Couldn’t you just kill me now?” requested Hiriam, his voice dripping with disgust.

Handing the reins over, Blake chuckled at Sheila’s angry cursing at the statement, enjoying the moment of sarcasm from the former sailor. “Now, that’s not a nice thing to say, Mr. Thomson.”

Climbing on his horse, he lead the way to the deserted farmhouse ten miles away, grateful to his jailed partner’s foresight to point out the hiding place two days before.

Within the hour, Hiriam Thomson’s last living relative would be taken care of with the old man being none the wiser.

Heath slumped over and was caught by Nick’s hands. Laying him gently on the floor, Nick looked over at Jarrod.

“We gotta get him out of here.” stated Nick wiping the cut on the bruised cheek, taking advantage of his still brother to examine his wounds.

Fred knelt beside the brothers, “I’ll take the men and start on their trail. They can’t be that far ahead.”

Nodding, Jarrod agreed, “I’ll come with you Fred. Nick, can you get Heath to Stockton?”

“Yeah, I’ll get him to Dr. Merar.”

Putting a hand on Nick’s shoulder, Jarrod looked into the hazel eyes, “Nick, you sure you can make it? You have a head injury yourself, remember.”

Nick winked, “I promise not to pass out til our little brother is safe in Stockton.”

Jarrod stared intently into the hazel eyes, scrutinizing his other brother until he received a deep growl, “I’m okay, Jarrod. Just a headache, is all. You just make sure you bring Hiriam back.”

“I will, Nick.” promised Jarrod motioning to Scotty.

Between the two of them, they brought Heath outside and lifted him onto Nick’s saddle. Mounting, Nick wrapped his arms around the unconscious man and pulled him back against him.

Looking down at Jarrod, Nick warned, “Be careful, Jarrod.”

Squeezing the black jeaned leg, Jarrod nodded, “I will, Nick. When you get to Stockton, why don’t you wire Jack Larkin. He may be able to send some marshals from Nevada to intercept them.”

Nick grinned, “Good thinking, Jarrod. I’ll wake Mr. Foster up after Heath is settled in.”

Jarrod watched his departing brothers before climbing on Jingo and heading out with Fred and the rest of the men.

Nick held on tightly to his unconscious brother, the blonde head resting against his shoulder, his forehead against his jaw. Nick’s own head was pounding from the day’s activities, but he couldn’t imagine how Heath was functioning with the confusion shrouding his mind.

The pain in the ocean colored eyes had torn at his heart but not as much as knowing Heath wasn’t sure who he or Jarrod was. He’d been wiped from his little brother’s memory as easily as one would wipe a chalk board in school.

Blinking the tears away which welled up in his eyes, Nick sighed and placed a kiss on the blonde’s forehead, his voice cracked with emotion.

“Heath, I’m not giving up on you remembering me and our family. You were gone from us for twenty four years and you’re not going again! Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“You came to Stockton as a member of the United States Marshal Service. You drug Luke Croker here for murdering our Father. I don’t think I ever told you about the first time I knew you were my brother. It was when Jarrod thanked you after you pulled Croker into the office and you pushed your hat up.”

Heath shifted slightly in his arms and Nick held his breath, hoping to hear the drawl of his name from his brother’s lips. Heath mumbled slightly but didn’t waken. Sighing, Nick continued his walk through his memories.

“Well, when you pushed your hat up, we were both shocked at Father’s eyes looking back at us. That was the day you entered our lives, the day everything changed for the better in my life, our lives. I can’t imagine you not by my side everyday, little brother. I won’t imagine it.”

“We love you, Heath. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help you remember us. We’d be lost without you. Not only us, but what about Melinda and the kids. Man, don’t make me tell them you don’t remember, Heath. I don’t think I’m strong enough to look into her eyes and say it.”

Tears spilled out onto the tanned cheeks of the chiseled face, honed by the wind and elements, the strong profile of the man breaking down at the prospect of losing one who walked by his side, fought with him, laughed with him and returned love given to him tenfold.

After securing Hiriam Thomson, Benton departed the farmhouse by the back door and left the man under Sheila’s watchful eyes. He watched the large group of riders pass him in the dark of the night. Waiting for several minutes, he rode back to the line shack.

Seeing the empty room, he frowned and then realized the former marshal was more than likely on his way back to Stockton. He was in no condition to ride and would’ve needed assistance to make it back to the doctor.

The first light of the day was only a couple hours away, time was of the essence now. Climbing upon his horse, he urged the tired animal to a gallop riding as the crow flies back to Stockton.

A sucker - they say there’s one born every minute or so Hiriam had heard. Laying on the filthy floor in a bedroom of the farmhouse, smelling of rotting wood, mold and rodents – he knew he could be categorized as one of those suckers. He’d been suckered in by his loyal secretary, his eyes not seeing the real evil beneath the surface of beauty. How could someone you took in from the cruel world turn on you because of money? Greed was such a disgusting trait for a person to possess.

Now, his grandson and he were destined to be killed. Shaking his head, he worked at the ropes which bound his hands behind him, his legs tied together at the ankles. Hiriam was under no elusions – Benton and Sheila could not afford to leave Heath alive.

The will he’d be forced to sign would be no good with the former marshal alive to dispute it’s validity. He hoped his deal with the two had given Heath’s brothers or even a complete stranger time to find him and take the boy to Stockton. It had been a desperate attempt and the only way he could think to leave Heath behind and alive.

The ropes cut into his wrists the more he struggled with them. Sighing, he lay his head on the floor and tried to ignore the pain in his arms and shoulders. Being trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey was frustrating. The brown eyes stared at the wall, showing a flicker of defeat.

Hope seeped out of him at his inability to free himself from his bonds. If he wanted to live, he had to get free and away from his captors. The further away from Stockton they rode, the less likely his chances of survival.

God, how he wanted to spend the rest of his life being a grandfather to Heath. He missed out on the lives of his own children as they grew and came to adulthood. He didn’t want to miss out on seeing Heath married and with children of his own in the future. A great grandfather – what a wonderful title that would be to live up to and hear being spoken by little voices.

A smile graced the exhausted face, his thoughts of Heath sending a surge of adrenaline through him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to free his wrists again, the blonde man’s face firmly in his mind as he ignored the pain of the ropes biting into his skin, cutting his skin by the slight wetness he felt trickling down his fingers.

Working the ropes, his body shifted slightly and his brown eyes widened with delight. Moving his knees up, he rolled over and knelt on them. Clenching his jaw, he tried to make his way closer to the wall. His sixty year old knees protesting each small shuffle as he made his way towards the wall and the squared large nail which stood out from the boards.

The nail jutted out approximately fifteen inches from the floor. He felt his heart pounding wildly when he reached the spot he had worked for, the sweat beading up on his forehead from the exertion. Leaning against the wall, he felt for the nail and found it after several tries. Lifting his wrists, he ran the rope across the nail in a seesawing motion, thankful the piece of metal was holding firm in the wall.

He didn’t know how much time passed before he felt the rope give slightly. He was so focused on his efforts, he’d lost track of everything else. The slight loosening of the bonds surged him forward with an abundance of energy. Repeating his movement, he moaned quietly with pleasure when he was able to slip his right hand free of the bonds.

Rubbing his wrists to restart the circulation in his hands, he untied the ropes on his ankles and tentatively stood. His legs were wobbly, his back and shoulders sang with pain, his knees hurt like hell from kneeling the whole time – it was well worth it.

Walking to the window at the end of the room, he grabbed the frame and lifted. The frame wouldn’t budge from it’s track. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he tried again. This time he bent at the knees and pushed upwards with legs and arms. A creaking sound echoed through the room when the window moved upwards a few inches, the night air filtering into the small room. Hiriam welcomed the clean burst of air, it’s odor filling his senses and taking away the smell of his temporary prison.

Sheila sat at the table drinking a cup of coffee, waiting impatiently for Blake to return. A faint sound caught her ears from the bedroom where Hiriam was bound. Stepping over to the door, she put her head against the door and listened. The noise sounded again from inside. Reaching down, she turned the key in the lock and slowly opened the door.

Entering the room, she saw the ropes on the floor and the opened window. Hearing a noise, she jumped to the side. Hiriam’s hands missed grabbing Sheila when she jumped to the side. He saw her hand turn the gun and he grabbed a hold of her wrists.

“Drop it!” demanded Hiriam tightening his hold on her wrists and she cried out in pain from the pressure.

Stepping on his instep viciously, Hiriam howled from her booted foot’s action. Biting his hand, she brought her knee up into his groin and felt his legs buckle. Hiriam’s vision blurred from the blow and his mind took a moment to register her hands turning the gun towards him.

Quickly turning her hand away from him, he jumped when the pistol discharged and her eyes widened with fear before she slumped to the floor, blood spreading across her shirt, her lifeless brown eyes staring up at the ceiling.

Staggering over to sit on the only chair in the room, Hiriam gasped from his pained body and stared at the dead woman. Realizing Benton hadn’t entered the room, Hiriam took the pistol out of her limp hand and rushed outside to the horse. There was only one place Benton would have gone to and left Sheila behind.

Mounting, he turned the animal towards the line shack and encouraged the horse to run at top speed with a kick. Rounding a corner, Hiriam pulled up sharply, preventing a near collision with the mounted men who appeared suddenly in front of him.

Jarrod shouted, “Hiriam!”

“Jarrod, we gotta get back to the line shack. Benton’s gonna kill Heath!” exclaimed Hiriam.

“Heath’s on his way to Stockton with Nick.” stated Jarrod. “What about Sheila Pierson?”

“She’s dead.” informed Hiriam.

Fred nodded, “Let’s ride hard boys, I don’t like the thought of this Benton running around with Nick trying to get Heath back to doc’s place.”

The quiet night air was broken and filled with the sound of galloping hooves, the men pushing their horses on, the fate of two relatives, two friends, two brothers lingering in their minds.

The air around the two riders on the single horse was quiet save for the plodding of the hooves. Nick's voice was almost hoarse from the nonstop talking in Heath’s ear, taking advantage of the ride to help his unaware brother sort through the memories clouding his mind, laying out his life since Nick had come to call him brother. His throat strained from the emotions he strived to keep controlled as he held his brother in front of him.

His arm across Heath’s stomach felt his muscles tightening before the sickness welled up from within the blonde. Stopping Coco, he leaned Heath to the left and tried to offer comfort as the retching changed to dry heaves.

Moaning, Heath felt his face being wiped and strong arms holding him. He fought to open his eyes, the strength coming from deep within him.

“Nick?” the painful word barely reached the older man’s ears.

“I’m right here, little brother.” assured Nick, choking back a sob of happiness at his whispered name. “I got ya’.”

Heath’s head rolled against the strong shoulder, his words mumbled, his voice weak. “Knife…back.”

“What?” exclaimed Nick anxiety grabbing his heart at the idea he’d missed the damage. “You were stabbed in the back?”

“Take..out..sling.” groaned Heath, the shaft of the knife digging into his back. “Hurts.”

Nick reached under Heath’s vest and pulled the knife out of it’s home, thrusting it into Heath’s right boot and smiled at the small sigh of relief which escaped from the blonde.

“Don’t scare me like that, Heath.” growled Nick, reaching over to cup his brother’s cheek.

“Tired.” groaned the smaller man. “Head...hurts.”

“I know it hurts, boy. We’re almost to town.” soothed Nick softly before asking. “Heath, do you remember me as your, uh, brother. The good looking one?”

“Old..one...twit..brain.” whispered Heath before he passed out and sank back.

Chuckling, Nick wrapped his arms around his brother, hugging him and planting a kiss on the warm forehead while his tears of gratitude fell. Nudging Coco forward, he headed towards the light flickering from the town.

Stopping in front of Dr. Merar’s, Nick dismounted carefully and slid Heath down into his arms. Carrying him up the stairs, he kicked the door open and entered, calling loudly for the family physician.

Howard jumped up from where he’d fallen asleep on the waiting room couch. His eyes opening wide at the man in Nick’s arms. “Heath!”

Howard held the door to a room open, Nick passed him and laid his unconscious brother on the bed as directed. “He woke a little while ago and then passed out again. He remembers me!”

Howard smiled widely at the joy in Nick’s face, the tracks of the man’s tears clear for him to see. “That’s good, Nick. That’s real good. Can you turn up the lamp, I want to examine him.”

Nick turned up the flame and stood on the other side of the bed, his hand holding Heath’s left one. His grip firm on the limp hand, not wanting to lose physical contact with his little brother.

Howard felt Heath’s forehead and shook his head. Opening his shirt, he undid the bandage, his eyes unable to see any redness circling around the stitched wounds due to the deep bruising from the encounter with Barrett. Skillfully his hands felt the lump on the back of Heath’s head, rewrapping the bandage. Taking a suave out of his bag, he put it on the chafing and carefully wrapped a bandage around each wrist.

“Other than the cut on his cheek, the chafing and a slight fever, he’s about the same.” stated Howard. “What about Hiriam, Nick?”

Shaking his head, Nick gruffed, “He wasn’t at the line shack when we got there. Heath said they were taking him to Nevada. Jarrod, Fred and the men went after him.”

Nodding, Howard smiled, “You look beat Nick. How about you get some rest? You can sleep in that bed over there.”

Wiping a hand across his face, Nick looked up, “I have to wake Mr. Foster and send a wire to Jack Larkin first. Then I’ll come back and get some rest.”

“Okay, Nick. Let me get you a glass of headache powder before you go.” suggested Howard turning before any protest could be made. “Be right back.”

Nick ran his fingers down his brother’s uncut cheek and leaned over. “Heath, you’re at doc’s office. I’ll be back after I send a wire, little brother.”

Howard handed a glass to the brother some would characterize as loud and hell-bent as he strode through life seemingly as he owned the world, but Dr. Merar and a few others had seen the gentleness, soft like a butterfly’s wing coming out in the man by means of caring, deep emotion and hands gentle as a summer breeze when those held in his large heart were hurt or threatened.

Nick drank the glass of concoction and squeezed Heath’s hand one last time, his eyes burning while he ran them over his brother once again, almost afraid to leave him, wondering if Heath’s moment of clarity would turn back into cloudiness.

“I’ll watch over him for you, Nick. Go send your wire.” assured Howard softly, his words receiving a nod from the now uncharacteristic quiet man who hesitated for just a moment before leaving the room.

Blake Benton arrived in Stockton in time to see Nick Barkley enter the physician’s office with Heath Thomson in his arms. Benton walked around the building in the shadow of the late night, his eyes seeing the raised flame in a back window. Stepping up to the window, he peered in from the side, unable to see the injured man. His eyes caught sight of the other two men and the tan panted legs lying on the bed.

He couldn’t get a shot from the window, he’d have to find another way. Heading back to the front of the building, he pondered his choices while he watched from across the street. The choice was made for him when Nick Barkley left the office and headed down the street towards town on his horse. Waiting until he couldn’t see the back of Nick, Benton walked across the street and quietly entered the building.

“Go west, young man” were the words heard by the younger version of Howard Merar some years before on the east coast of the United States. These four simple words spoken by a New Yorker were the catapult which started the man and his new bride, Helen, on a trip across the great country. The trip ended in California where he resided today.

The younger Dr. Howard Merar, recently graduated from the Harvard Medical School, heard the words and obeyed the urging of his wanderlust spirit deep within him. He grew up on the streets of Boston, worked his way through school and graduated with honors. He had made himself into what he was today with tenacity and hard work.

In his time, he’d seen his share of violence in the world around him. He’d held a weapon in his hands throughout his travels, but never found the need to use one or the desire. With everything he’d seen, he, himself, had never been a victim of any act of violence nor partook in any such act against another human being.

Perhaps as he grew into adulthood, it had to do with the fact he was a physician. Often times, he was the only physician in an area and scarcity of his profession dictated he was considered more valuable than gold. Gold couldn’t set your bones, take out a bullet or operate to save your life. He and his wife lived a rather peaceful life in a land settled and built by violence.

These thoughts quickly ran through his mind after he felt a pistol shoved into his ribs and a deep low voice whispered, “Don’t turn around.”

Obeying, Howard, glad his wife was staying with the concerned Melinda Rankin, asked, “What do you want from me?”

“Your patient, Heath Thomson.” smirked Benton.

Anger surged within Howard at the threat and he stated, “He’s not here.”

Jabbing the gun viciously into the ribs again, Benton growled, “I saw his brother carry him in. Now move!”

“He’s unconscious. He can’t do anything to you.” informed Howard, finding he was wishing for the first time in his life he was a man of violence.

“He doesn’t need to be awake for what I’m gonna do.” stated Benton coldly. “If you don’t move, I’ll blow a hole right through you.”

Howard hesitantly moved down the hallway, assessing in his mind how long Nick had been gone, realizing he wouldn’t return in time. The telegraph operator, Mr. Foster, lived on the other side of town past the telegraph office. Getting there, waking the man up, going to the telegraph office and sending a wire – too much to accomplish in the short time Nick’d been gone.

Howard’s steps felt as if they were made on leaden legs, his feet feeling as if they were giant boulders. His mouth was dry and his back was ramrod straight in anticipation of a bullet’s path into his body.

Howard entered the room where Heath lay unaware and turning quickly towards the unknown man, he never saw the fist which connected with his jaw. The physician’s body turned over a chair as he fell and landed on the floor.

The clanging of the chair meeting the hardwood floor reached Heath’s ears. Moaning softly, he turned his head and slowly opened his eyes. Blake looked up from his kneeled position beside the unconscious physician. The opening of the blue eyes greeted him and he stood up.

Reaching the side of the bed in two steps, Blake saw the startled eyes as awareness flooded into them. Holding his knife to the blonde’s throat, Blake smiled, “You first, then your grandfather.”

The color in the sapphire eyes seemed to change as Blake stared into them. A shiver quivered his spine from the coldness in them. The sound of a groan from the floor distracted Benton and his arm was pulled away, his wrist twisted, the hold on the knife lost from the quick movement.

Grabbing the strong wrist, Heath twisted and heard the knife fall onto the floor. His lack of power not enough to break the thick wrist. Frantic, he swung a fist before rolling off the bed, away from his attacker and onto the floor.

Benton jumped over the bed and felt the blade cut across his biceps from Heath’s quick slash. Ignoring the pain, he grabbed the injured blonde and tossed him. Meeting the unforgiving wall, Heath fell to the floor and lay still.

Taking out his gun, Benton pointed and squeezed the trigger. The air whooshed out of his lungs from the force of the blow to his back and he was pushed headlong into the wall.

Stunned, Benton was disarmed and turned. His body came to know the full rage and strong protectiveness by the bull of the Barkley family. Nick’s leathered hands made short work of the man, sending him into oblivion.

His burst of expelled energy left Nick gasping for air. Falling to his knees, he turned his little brother onto his back.

“Heath? Heath!” called Nick tapping the blonde’s cheek. “Com’on, boy! Talk to me!”

Heath heard the voice calling him and tried to respond. His eyes shifted beneath his lids but he couldn’t find the strength to open them and moaned softly. Nick watched while Heath struggled to heed his wish. Leaning over, he placed his ear by the moving lips and strained to hear the whisper while his hand was weakly squeezed.

“Get..him..Nick?”

Squeezing the tan shoulder, Nick stated, “Got him, Heath.”

“Thanks.” whispered Heath, his hand falling limp and he relaxed in the safe haven of his brother’s presence.

Picking Heath up, Nick laid him back on the bed as Jarrod, Hiriam and Fred entered the room. Fred and Hiriam helped a waking Howard to his feet. Pointing to the beaten man lying on the floor, Nick gruffed, “I believe that’s Benton.”

Hiriam verified the man’s identity and Fred handcuffed him. Nick brushed his hand through the blonde hair and whispered, “Too close, little brother. Way too close.”

Jarrod wrapped his arms around his shaking brother and hugged him tightly. Nick welcomed the strength from Pappy, his emotions reeling at how close it’d been, not sure what had made him return suddenly to the physician’s home.

Jarrod released him and Hiriam held the taller man by the shoulders, his eyes full of unshed tears. “Thank you, Nick. Thank you.”

Nodding, Nick looked at Hiriam with confusion, “Where’d you come from?”

Hiriam smiled, “Time for explanations later. Now, I think we could all use some peace and quiet.”

Jarrod and Nick stood watch over their sleeping brother until their mother and sister arrived. Howard, sporting a bruised jaw, updated his anxious friend on her son’s condition.

Howard warned the family Heath’s confusion may not be thoroughly cleared up yet. His concussion would still affect him for one to two weeks with headaches, dizziness, nausea and black outs. Heath was sleeping deeply, his body giving in and working to heal itself.

Hiriam was at the hotel, the older man’s pained body demanded healing sleep. The news of Ted Folcom’s murder, saddening and infuriating the older man. He was angry at himself for not seeing what was in front of his eyes, angry at the demon that had driven Sheila Pierson to murder and kidnapping.

Blake Benton was a resident of the Stockton jail with his former partner, Barrett. Hiriam informed Fred where Sheila Pierson’s body could be found and the sheriff planned to bring it back to town tomorrow. Before heading home, Fred handed the puzzled Jarrod two lists of names.

“When Heath wakes up, tell him he was right about how to find out who shot you, Nick.” smiled Fred tipping his hat and heading out the door.

Jarrod and Nick read the lists, their eyes widening at the name of Blake Benton on the list from the war department, five lines down from their brother’s name.

“Heath must’ve requested this information when he rode back to town with Fred after you were shot.” stated Jarrod putting the papers in his pocket.

Looking at the sleeping man on the bed, Nick growled, “Stubborn and cantankerous. Jarrod, have you ever known anyone to be so stubborn?”

Victoria and Audra snickered while Jarrod choked back his laughter and placed a consoling arm over Nick’s shoulders, “Well, now that you mention it brother Nick – I can think of only one other person.”

Glancing into the twinkling blue eyes, Nick gruffed, “Don’t say it, Jarrod! Let’s go to the hotel.”

“That’s a good idea, Nick. After we escort Mother and Audra to the hotel, I’ll let Melinda know about Heath.” smiled Jarrod offering his arms to his Mother and sister.

Nick lingered by the bedside after the others left the room. Reaching over, he pulled the blanket up further on Heath’s chest and studied the bruised face, relaxed in sleep and gently squeezed his hand before placing it back on the blanket.

Victoria watched from the doorway, her gray eyes filled with wonder at the deep gentleness in her masculine son. Walking over, she took his face in her hands and kissed the tears on his cheeks.

“Nick, Heath loves you just as deeply.” assured Victoria softly. “You need to sleep, Nick. Heath will be needing your strength as he heals.”

Nodding, Nick hugged her gently and then allowed his Mother to lead him from the room to the hotel.

Two days later, Melinda sat by the bedside, her cheek resting on her fist, elbow on the arm of the chair. Her green eyes reflected exhaustion, signs from her lack of sleep the past two days. After Jarrod arrived at her home to let Melinda know of Heath’s safety, Helen Merar graciously offered her assistance with the children, enabling the young woman to await the blonde’s return to consciousness. The Barkley family had gone to the train station to await the arrival of the youngest son, Eugene.

Heath’s head moved slightly, drawing Melinda’s attention and moving her to the edge of her seat. The pain in his head was lessened and Heath slowly opened his eyes to look around the room. He felt as though he’d slept for weeks, the ringing in his ears was gone and his thoughts were clear.

His sapphire eyes gazed into the green eyes intently, his heart thundered inside his chest, “Hi, there.”

Remembering Dr. Merar’s words about gauging Heath’s level of clarity when he woke, Melinda smiled back, “Hi. Do you remember how you got here?”

Heath’s confusion at her words showed in his eyes, “You mean Stockton?”

“No, the doctor’s office.” frowned Melinda. “Dr. Merar wanted me to ask you that when you woke up.”

“Yes, I remember.” sighed Heath pushing himself into a sitting position with Melinda rushing over to assist, placing pillows behind his back and head.

“Thanks.” Taking a hold of her small hand, Heath whispered, “There is something I don’t remember too clearly, Melinda.”

Sitting on the bed, she squeezed his hand, “What’s that Heath?”

“I can’t seem to remember what it feels like when you’re near.” replied Heath seriously.

Blushing, Melinda smiled, “Is that right?”

Releasing her hand, Heath held her arms and pulled her closer. “Nothing yet.”

Melinda giggled while the process was repeated until her lips were a hair’s breath away from his. Her stomach fluttered wildly and her green eyes sparkled.

“I missed you terribly, Mel.” whispered Heath, his lips leaving a tender kiss on both cheeks.

Her breath caught in her throat from the electric touch of his lips and her voice quivered, “And I missed you, Heath. You need to rest now.”

Shaking his head slightly, he grimaced from the movement. Closing his eyes briefly to stem the bout of dizziness, he reopened them and his blue eyes burned into the green ones. The emotion in his words caused tears to spring into her eyes.

“I didn’t remember Nick or Jarrod. Grandfather. The kids. You! It was strange, the memories were there but they weren’t. All because of someone’s greed, you could have been lost to me forever, Melinda. God, just the thought of it terrifies me. What if I’d been confused forever? What if I..”

“Shhhh. Please don’t do this to yourself. Everything’s okay now, Heath. Shhh.” assured Melinda, stopping his panicked words with her fingers on his lips.

Heath wrapped her in his arms and held on tightly, his body trembling while his whole being burst with emotion.

“I love you, Mel.” whispered Heath, thankful for the chance to say the words to the woman who'd stolen his heart.

Tears spilled onto her cheeks and she tightened her hold, her whisper filling his heart, “I love you, too.”

Heath placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Pulling her closer, he savored the sweetness of her as it deepened. Breaking off the kiss, his eyes filled with tears.

“Mel, I love the kids, too.”

“I know, Heath.” smiled Melinda caressing his cheek softly. “You need to rest and get well if we’re going to have another picnic anytime soon.”

“Our last picnic was a lot of fun.” sighed Heath brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?”

Melinda smiled, “You tell me every time I look into your eyes, Heath.”

Heath’s face turned crimson. “I didn’t know I was that transparent.”

Laughing, Melinda squeezed his hand, “How about a bowl of broth?”

The look of displeasure on the blonde’s face at the thought of broth for breakfast caused Melinda to giggle as she stood up and winked. “I’ll be right back.”

Eugene jumped down from the platform of the passenger car, his bag in his hand. His eyes swept the boardwalk of the train depot and his blue eyes lit up with happiness. Waving, he greeted his family with hugs and kisses.

“Where’s Heath?” inquired Eugene not seeing the blonde anywhere.

“He’s at Dr. Merar’s.” sighed Nick leading the family to the surrey.

“Why? Is he alright?” exclaimed Gene.

Entwining her arm into his, Victoria smiled, “He’ll be fine, Gene. We can stop and see him on the way to the ranch. It’s a long story.”

Nodding, Gene patted her hand, “Okay, Mother, tell me later. How is the planning for the big gala?”

Nick rolled his eyes and Jarrod chuckled while Audra glared at her two older brothers, “It is not a gala, Eugene. Just a birthday party.”

Smirking, Gene winked to Nick, “Really? Your birthday is not a gala. I could’ve sworn I saw a notice in the San Francisco Chronicle which stated the guest list included governors and senators. They said maybe even the President is coming.”

The men laughed and Victoria shook her head when Audra swatted her brother on the arm. Her shining blue eyes took away the look of anger she was striving for. “Eugene Barkley, you are as bad as your other brothers!”

Gene bowed slightly, “That’s a mighty fine compliment, little sister. Thank you, Audra.”

Sighing loudly with exasperation, Audra accepted Jarrod’s hand into the surrey while Gene helped his Mother. Nick mounted Coco and lead the way down the street, stopping in front of the physician’s office.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Heath tore his eyes from Melinda’s and smiled widely, “Eugene! Good to see ya!”

Tipping his hat to Melinda, Gene shook Heath’s hand and ran a quick eye over his blonde brother. “Heath, you look a little worse for wear. Every time I see you, you’re flat on your back.”

Frowning at the laughter from the others, Heath drawled, “Gee, I’m happy to see you, too, college boy.”

Chuckling, Gene smiled, “What happened? Have you been sampling Audra’s cooking again?”

Heath held onto his side and moaned, trying to keep his laughter from escaping, “That’s not nice, little brother. Ouch!”

The others smiled when Audra agreed, “Heath’s right. That is not a nice thing to say, Gene. I’m sorry I have to invite you just cause you’re related.”

Heath winked at Gene and drawled, “Boy howdy, it was funny though, Gene.”

Holding out a hand to his advancing sister, Heath pleaded, “I’m injured already Audra. Go after one of your other brothers!”

Her other brothers chuckled and Victoria squeezed Melinda’s hand, green and gray eyes lit up with amusement at the shenanigans from the siblings. “Now, I do believe you boys have tortured your poor sister enough for one day. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Grinning, the four men exclaimed in unison, “Yes, Mother.”

Laying his head back onto the pillow, Heath listened to his shadow. Melinda tried to keep her attention focused on the plans for Audra’s upcoming party, however, her eyes kept straying to where Heath was listening to Nick.

Nick sat on the side of the bed talking quietly to his blonde brother, glancing every once in a while over to the family, laying out his plans for the ranch until Heath returned. Glancing upwards, he smiled at the bruised face relaxed once again in sleep.

Nick felt a small hand on his shoulder and looked up into Melinda’s green eyes. Smiling, she whispered, “Sorry, Nick. Dr. Merar gave him some laudanum before you got here.”

Nick smirked, “Bet he didn’t like that too much, huh?”

Chuckling softly, she shook her head. “Not much.”

Standing, Nick tousled the blonde hair and smiled, “I gotta get back to work. Keep an eye on him for me, okay?”

Melinda smiled widely, her green eyes flowing with emotion, “That would be my pleasure, Nick. I’ll take good care of him.”

Nick gathered the family members and chased them out of the room. Stopping at the door, he smiled at the sight of Melinda sitting on the bed and placing a kiss on his sleeping brother’s lips.

‘Yep, he’s a goner. Won’t be long til he’s not a bachelor anymore.’ thought Nick, a smile spread across his tanned face and he left his sleeping brother with his barber.

Dressed and looking out the window, Heath was ready to leave, his mind deep in thought. His week stay with the family physician at it’s end. Smiling at the sight of the healing man, Howard cleared his throat, startling Heath back to the present.

“Morning, doc.” drawled Heath. “Looks like a beautiful day outside.”

Howard grinned, “I bet if it was raining and hailing outside, you’d still think it was beautiful out.”

Laughing, Heath shook the man’s hand, “Nothing personal, Dr. Merar, but I do believe you are correct!”

Joining Heath in laughter, Howard walked the blonde to the kitchen where his wife was making breakfast. Sitting at the table with the Merar’s, Heath enjoyed his last meal with the happy couple.

“Mrs. Merar, I’ll sure miss your cooking.” stated Heath. “Course, if I stay here much longer, I’ll need new clothes for my expanding waistline.”

Helen Merar shook her finger at the blonde, “I don’t want to see you except for social reasons, young man.”

Shocked, Heath winked, “Mrs. Merar, you’re married!”

Helen laughed when Howard sputtered coffee from Heath’s teasing words and received a firm pat on the back, “Sorry bout that, doc.”

Catching his breath, Howard took a deep breath, “I’ll have you know, young man, my wife prefers dark hair. Right, dear?”

Helen shrugged, “I don’t believe I’ve ever stated a preference, Howard.”

Heath sipped his coffee and winked at the eye rolling physician. “Will I see you at Audra’s birthday party on Friday night?”

“Yes, we’ll be there.” confirmed Howard, eyes narrowing when Heath chuckled.

“Planning on dancing?” inquired Heath pushing his empty plate away.

“Why?” asked Howard suspiciously.

Patting her husband’s arm, Helen smiled, “We love to dance, Heath.”

“Really? That’s nice to know.” drawled Heath.

“With each other!” stated Howard firmly winking at his wife, his dark eyes filled with laughter. “We prefer to dance only with each other, right dear?”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever stated that preference before either, Howard.” sighed Helen dramatically. “Since you have all the answers, dear, I will just say goodbye to our guest.”

Standing, Heath pulled out Helen’s chair and smiled shyly when she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. Taking his hands, she sighed, “Howard and I will miss you, Heath. You’re a welcome addition in our house anytime.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Merar.” grinned Heath. Leaning down and whispering loudly, Heath asked, “Save some dances for me, okay?”

Howard stood up and pulled Heath by the arm, “Come on, Heath. Time for you to go back to work.”

Laughing, Helen waved to the departing man. Howard’s angry countenance of a jealous husband not reaching his eyes or being able to stop the laughter which threatened to erupt inside of him.

Nick entered the office in time to see Howard shoving Heath’s hat into his hands. “Bout time you got here, Nick!”

Nick stood looking perplexed at the aggravated tone from the physician. “What’s the matter?”

Heath winked, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief when Howard growled, “Your brother is trying to steal my wife. Time for him to go!”

“We can’t have that, now can we?” exclaimed Nick. “I’d be happy to take him off your hands, doc. Com’on Heath, we got a ranch to run!”

Grinning, Heath shook the hand of the physician enthusiastically, “Thanks again, Dr. Merar! See ya’ Friday!”

Following Nick’s path out the door, Heath’s laughter rang out at the departing call, “Her dance card’s full up Heath! Remember that come Friday!”

Stepping outside on the boardwalk, Heath stopped at the sight of the surrey tied to the hitching rail. “Where’s Charger?”

“Mother said take the surrey.” smirked Nick, putting his arm across the broad shoulders. “So, I took the surrey.”

“Do you do everything Mother tells you, Nick?” sighed Heath with a quick grin.

“A wise man would little brother.” stated Nick clapping the blonde on the back. “Do you need help in, Mr. Cantankerous?”

Rolling his eyes, Heath mumbled, “Twit brain!”

Climbing into the surrey, Nick grabbed the reins and looked over at the blonde. “You know, Heath, Mother didn’t say how fast we could go.”

“Well, Nick. What are ya’ waiting for?” drawled Heath with a smile.

With a loud yell and a snap of the reins, the surrey lurched forward leaving the town in a cloud of dust. Slowing the horse after a bit, Nick shook his head at the sight of Heath reclining back in the seat, hat over his eyes and his boots propped up on the metal frame.

“How’s Melinda?” asked Nick.

“Fine, I guess.”

Frowning at the response, Nick shrugged and inquired, “What did Timmy say about staying at the ranch for the weekend?”

“I didn’t ask Timmy.”

Stopping the surrey, Nick looked over and demanded, “What do you mean you didn’t ask him? You were supposed to! We talked about this four days ago.”

Heath pushed his hat up and glanced into the tan face, “I didn’t see Timmy this week. I asked Melinda not to bring the kids over to Dr. Merar’s.”

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” shouted Nick.

Sitting up on the seat, Heath sighed, “I got my reasons, Nick. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay! That kid thinks you’re a hero. Hell, he’s probably sitting at home wondering why you don’t want to see him.” growled Nick angrily. “Why would you do that to him?”

“IT’S NOT YOUR CONCERN, NICK!” yelled Heath jumping down from the surrey, his stride furious as he walked away.

Nick’s anger wouldn’t be calmed and he pulled the surrey to the side of the road. He quickly caught up to his brother and yanked him around by the arm.

“I thought you loved those kids. How can you treat them like this?” grilled Nick, catching a quick look of anguish in the depths of his little brother’s eyes.

“Nick, I don’t want to discuss this right now.” informed Heath pulling his arm out of the iron grip.

Holding onto the strong shoulders, hazel eyes bored into the sapphire eyes. Nick’s voice was strong and filled with concern, “Heath, you can tell me anything. Don’t you know that? I’m your brother, that’s what I’m here for.”

Nick watched the sapphire eyes lower and Heath shook his head slightly. “I know, Nick.”

“Then what’s happened? Did you and Melinda have a fight?” inquired Nick, his voice soothing and curious.

Shuffling his feet, Heath swallowed the lump in his throat and cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have done it, Nick.”

“Done what?” puzzled Nick, his breath catching at the emotion in the sapphire eyes.

“I broke my own rule and now I don’t think I can handle it.” was the tortured response.

“Heath, you’re scaring me. Just tell me.” urged Nick with a slight shake of the tormented man he had by the shoulders.

Heath stood in his place, his gut twisting in anguish, his mind twirling constantly. Nick saw the torment and he steeled his heart for whatever could cause such a look.

“I love them, Nick. I do but it wouldn’t be fair to Mel.”

“Heath, if you love them, I don’t understand what the problem is.” replied Nick holding Heath by the back of the neck. “What wouldn’t be fair?”

Tears sprang into the sapphire eyes and his voice trembled, “I can’t get it out of my mind, Nick. It just keeps tormenting me. I have so many enemies from my past. I can’t take the chance. If we married and had kids of our own, they could end up fatherless. I know what that’s like and I can’t do it. I just can’t, Nick.”

Pulling the blonde into his arms, Nick’s hazel eyes reflected understanding. Patting the strong back, Nick sighed, “Did you talk to Melinda about this?”

“No.” mumbled Heath. “I tried, Nick. Everytime I look in her eyes, I just can’t get the words out. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt her, but I did anyway.”

Looking into the sapphire eyes, Nick stated, “You love her, she loves you. It’s that simple, little brother. I can understand why you’re scared but you can’t live your life this way. You two are so happy together. I don’t understand why you’re thinking this way now after all these months.”

“I guess Gene’s comment about everytime he sees me I’m flat on my back started it.” admitted Heath hesitantly, not seeing the steely look in the hazel eyes. “He’s right, you know. In the time you’ve known me, how many times have I been hurt? Almost killed?”

“Gene’s an idiot! He’s not very smart for a college boy!” growled Nick furiously. “I can’t believe you, Heath! Are you gonna leave and live like a hermit? That’s what you have to do, if you don’t want to leave the kids fatherless. What about the rest of the family? You could leave us brotherless or Mother without a son! What about your grandfather?”

Heath unconsciously took a step backwards at the face darkened in fury, the words of anger shaking him to the very core.

“You’re going to let a wonderful woman walk away cause of things you have no control over? You’d hurt her and the kids like that?” accused Nick, his voice loaded with disdain.

“I knew you were stubborn but this I can’t believe! Nobody lives forever, Heath!” shouted Nick before stalking back to the surrey, leaving his brother staring at him and standing on the side of the road.

Heath stared while the surrey drove off, his groan of pain not coming from any physical source. The torment within him had found another innocent bystander to hurt.

Nick’s tone of voice and the anger on his face lingered in the air on the wide open road. Pulling his hat further down on his head, he started walking down the road towards the ranch.

....Continued