A sapphire eye opened in confusion and the blonde head turned towards the growling sound he thought he’d heard. Sitting up on his elbow, Heath fought a spell of dizziness before leaning slowly over the side of the bed, his bruised body protesting the minute movement and he rolled his eyes at the sight of the noisemaker. Trying to keep from waking the owner of the horrible sounds, he gently worked his way to the other side of the bed and sat up.

His head throbbed but at least it was still attached on top of his shoulders. He’d had concussions before and knew what to expect, knew what he could do. Riding was definitely out of the picture for at least two days. Sighing to himself, he felt the disappointment rise up from inside remembering the excited violet eyes of Mackenzie at the prospect of a morning ride.

Looking down at his blood stained shirt, he slowly undid the buttons, leaving the shirt hanging open and moved to the dresser. Standing in front of the chest of drawers, he held on to the oak and fought the nausea caused by his mobility. When the queasiness passed, he quietly opened the drawer and pulled out another set of clothing.

Glancing in the mirror, he examined the dark purple bruising and swelling on the left side of his face which closed his left eye. His head wound covered by a white bandage, his blonde hair sticking out underneath it. His left side and shoulder were stiff and painful, compliments of the instrument, a piece of wood he thought, which he’d been struck with after it hit his head.

Closing his right eye, he tilted his head and tried to remember everything about the attack, trying to bring a tidbit of information to the forefront which would disclose who the attackers were. After the first blow, he’d fallen into the corral and lay stunned, fighting unconsciousness until the desire to fight back surged through him. Climbing shakily to his knees, he received another blow to his shoulder and then his side. He couldn’t remember anything after that until he woke to see the two hooves by his head.

The realization of the stallion standing over him caused a smile to flit across his face. The horse had saved his life no doubt. It wasn’t the first time a horse had rescued him and he’d rescued horses in the past also. Gentling and working with horses had been one of the few jobs as a child that he relished. Old man Ackers used to say he and the horses must’ve had the same soul from the way they responded to him, trusting him almost from the onset. Their instincts guiding them, telling the animals this human was special.

Tomorrow he would realize his dream of owning a ranch, being able to claim full title to it after the bounty was paid.

Glancing over at the sleeping man on the floor, Heath frowned and wondered to himself why he felt a need to know more about the dark haired Barkley son. The desire confused him since he was usually a loner, only having a few friends, only trusting a few people explicitly in his life. As a child, he’d learned at a young age not to expect any of the Strawberry residents to allow their kids to be his playmates or friends. The lesson was learned the hard way over his tender years, his tears replaced with anger and then stoicism.

Later as a teenager in the elite sharpshooter unit, he’d become friends with several men, the trust between them essential in the chaos of war. The time spent in the confederate prison an eye opener to the brutality of mankind and the lowest depths of despair. During the months in the prison, he and three others from his unit formed a small band to strive to keep each other sane and alive in the dankness of hell. In the end, he’d been the sole survivor of their group. When the camp was liberated, the field physicians had not expected the teenager to live but he’d shown the doubters what a strong will to survive could accomplish.

Bringing his sapphire eye back to the sleeping man on the floor, the blonde wondered if the nearing sunrise would bring a change to the attitude of the rancher. The truth of his birth and upraising caused many to shun him, pushing him to arms’ length. Sighing to himself, Heath slowly walked across the room and quietly opened the door, closing it behind him and entering the watercloset down the hallway.

Thirty minutes later, Heath returned to the room, smirking at the loud sounds coming from the floor. Walking past, he lightly kicked the socked foot with his boot and growled loudly, “Day’s a wasting, Barkley! Rise and shine!”

Abruptly the noises in the room quieted and Nick rubbed his face of sleep, hazel eyes squinted upwards before he slowly climbed to his feet and stretched his back. “Thomson, should you be up and walking around?”

Shoving his dirty clothes in his saddlebags, Heath snorted, “I’m alright, Nurse Barkley.”

“I already told you once, you’re not funny Thomson.” grinned Nick putting on his boots, looking up at the bruised face and reading the hesitation in it. “Something wrong?”

Turning to the window, Heath sighed, “I appreciate you helping me yesterday.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” said Nick offhandedly. “You’d have done it for me if the positions were reversed.”

Closing the curtain, Heath turned around and latched onto the back of a chair at the moment of dizziness feeling a strong hand grasp onto his arm to steady him.

“Sit down before you fall over and get another crack on your head.” ordered Nick, helping the man to a seat, concern in his tone at the sudden paling of the blonde’s face, an aftermath of the head injury.

“Thanks.” whispered Heath holding his head in his hands for several minutes before looking up into the hazel eyes and taking a deep breath. “Now that you know, tell Mrs. Barkley thanks for the offer but I can’t make it.”

Puzzled, Nick stared into the battered face, “Now that I know what?”

Rolling his eyes, Heath snorted, “That I’m a bastard. I understand the, uh, ramifications of associating with me.”

“THE RAMIFICATIONS!” shouted Nick causing the blonde to wince as the shout echoed through his head. “Sorry, Thomson.”

“Barkley, it’s okay I’m used to it. I appreciate the offer though.” sighed Heath rubbing his temples, stopping his fingers at the hand on his shoulder. Looking up he saw the anger in the hazel eyes of the man kneeling beside him.

“I don’t know what kind of person you think I am or the type of people my family is, but you sure got us figured wrong.” snapped Nick angrily at the assumption directed at them. “I don’t give a crap if you don’t know who your father is. You have no control over that. That occurred between two people long before you were born. I only care about the man I see before me and nothing else. Now if you turned out to be lower than a snake’s belly, then that’d be a different story.”

A stunned sapphire eye stared long into the determined hazel eyes and Heath nodded slightly, his shoulder squeezed before the rancher stood, helping the blonde to his feet.

“How about some breakfast while you tell me how you got the Red Ghost to trust you so quickly?” suggested Nick.

“His name’s Charger.” corrected Heath buckling on his gunbelt and gingerly putting on his hat.

Smirking, Nick growled, “Charger. Red Ghost. What difference does a name make? All I know is I thought he was gonna finish the job the others started when you were lying in the corral.”

Opening the door, Heath winked, “Same thought crossed my mind but then all I had to do was sweet talk him just like I do the ladies.”

Walking down the hallway, Nick snorted, “Sweet talk? Like I believe that would work!”

Chuckling, Heath smiled, “You want I should show you how to sweet talk the ladies, Barkley?”

“Oh shut up, Thomson.” sighed Nick in aggravation, trying to hide his grin, unable to before the man beside him saw it.

The morning treated the two men to a glorious sunrise as they walked down the boardwalk to the restaurant. Nick drank in the fresh air with deep breaths while the blonde fought to get past the pain in his head. Entering the small diner, Heath stopped in his tracks and felt Nick barrel into his back.

“Dang it, Thomson.” growled Nick stepping to the side of the still man, following his eyes to the pretty waitress alone in the room of the just opened establishment.

“Mackenzie, what are you doing here?” asked Heath. “I thought ya’ didn’t have to work today.”

“Heath! My god, what happened?” stammered the girl rushing over to his side and gently touching his face with her fingertips. “You look awful.”

Heath reached up and grabbed hold of the small hand, holding it in his own. “It’s nothing. Seems someone took a disliking to me or something. I’m fine. It’s not as bad as it looks, right Barkley?”

Violet eyes turned towards him and Nick nodded, “Right Thomson. Good thing you got a hard head. Excuse me, Miss Knight.”

Waiting til Nick walked away, Heath lowered his voice for her ears only, “Your father?”

“He left early this morning. Mrs. Jenkins took sick and I have to fill in for her.” explained Mackenzie, disappointment filling her eyes. “I have to work all day, Heath. There’s nobody else who can fill in.”

Tenderly caressing her cheek, Heath smiled slightly, “It’s okay, Mackenzie. We can always go riding another time. We have lots of time to do things.”

“I know, Heath.” smiled Mackenzie. “Besides, I don’t know if you should be riding in your condition.”

Winking, Heath took off his hat and held it in front of their faces after he bent over to place a lingering kiss on her lips. Nick sat at the table and rolled his eyes when the blonde’s hat cut off his view of the two people.

“I’ll miss you today.” whispered Heath staring into the violet eyes, barely hearing her repeat the same statement to him over his beating heart.

“Heath, you better go sit down. I’ll bring you and Mr. Barkley some coffee.” instructed Mackenzie squeezing his hand and entering the kitchen.

Walking over to the table, Heath sat across from the older man and grinned. “Sure you don’t want any lessons in sweet talking?”

“I don’t need lessons!” snapped Nick at the blonde who lowered his head and bit back his chuckle. Nick turned crimson when Mackenzie who was placing cups of coffee in front of the two men jumped from the outburst. “Sorry, Miss Knight.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Barkley.” replied Mackenzie curiously at the men. “I’ll be right out with your breakfasts.”

Heath chuckled after Mackenzie left and shook his head at the glare he was receiving from across the table, calmly sipping his coffee.

“Boy, one of these days that mouth’s gonna get you killed.” teased Nick, startled at the flash of pain which shot through the light blue eye.

The dark haired man not understanding the pain the one sentence revived in the blonde for a second before the memory flashed before him and left his eye darkened with anger. Clenching his hands, Heath turned his gaze downwards into his coffee cup, the dark liquid the stage in which the memory played out and he was lost in it for a minute.

The basement of the Strawberry hotel, the man who should have been a loving relative instead was the monster for his childhood nightmares, the dreaded basement room where he’d heard those words spoken before the beatings would start. His young mind not comprehending what he’d done to warrant such treatment from a person ten times his size.

“Heath?” queried Mackenzie softly, touching his arm and startling the blonde back to the present, his eye closing down the shutters, effectively snuffing out the emotions brought back in a torrent.

“I’m sorry, uh, I was lost in thought.” apologized Heath with a slight smile at the two concerned faces looking back at him, before turning his attention to the breakfast. “Thanks, Mackenzie.”

“You’re welcome.” smiled Mackenzie worry showing in her violet eyes before turning back to her job.

Nick watched the man across from him take a deep calming breath after he tried to pick up his fork with a shaky hand. Nick turned his attention to his breakfast and felt his stomach twist from the expressive blue orb, the mirror to the man’s soul telling him more than words could. The meal passed in silence with each man lost in their thoughts. Nick felt uncomfortable as the silence continued, almost as if in that brief moment, a dark cloud surrounded the blonde keeping him inside of it.

“You know I didn’t get a real good look at the Red Ghost, uh, Charger up close yet.” suggested Nick quietly.

Grinning slightly, Heath nodded, “It’d be a shame if you couldn’t see what you’ll be missing out on.”

Snorting, Nick grinned back and stood up, “Well, lets go then.”

Saying goodbye to Mackenzie who was steadily working, the two men left the small building behind. Heath’s queasy stomach felt ten times better after partaking in breakfast, although if anyone asked him, he wouldn’t be able to say what he’d eaten. Making their way down the boardwalk, both men heard the gunfire which broke the early Sunday morning silence of the town. Rushing down the street towards the sounds, Nick pulled Heath behind a wagon after two men galloped towards them, their guns spouting flame as they came abreast of the them. The bullets of the men sailed harmlessly over their heads.

“You okay?” asked Nick at the blonde who was holding his shoulder.

“Yeah, I just hit the side of the wagon when you pulled me down. I’m okay.” drawled Heath, hearing shouts coming from down the street.

Hurrying, Heath and Nick ran up to the crowd gathered in front of the sheriff’s office. Dr. Merar knelt beside someone in the street and they forced their way through the crowd. Nick stayed with the physician who was working on the sheriff and Heath ran into the small jail.

Billy, the deputy was being attended to by another man who was wrapping his shoulder in a bandage. Entering the holding area, Heath looked into the cell and sighed at the now deceased man, Jake Garrett.

“Is he gonna be okay?” asked Heath pointing to the unconscious deputy.

“Yeah, it went clean through.” nodded the stranger.

Walking out, Heath knelt by Nick and smiled at the wounded sheriff. “Fred, I thought you said this was a nice quiet town.”

Chuckling softly, Fred grimaced from the pain of the wound in his left side and gasped, “Guess…I…lied.”

Nick smirked and Heath nodded before frowning, “Garrett’s dead. You and Billy can’t ride. You got anyone who can track in this town?”

“No.” gasped Fred.

Howard looked up angrily, “Can’t this wait, Mr. Thomson?”

“No fraid not, Dr. Merar. We gotta get after those men or their won’t be any tracks left. The clouds are building up in the west. It’s gonna rain today.” advised Heath looking back down at the pale lawman. “Swear me in Fred, just so it’ll all be legal.”

Whispering, Fred swore the former deputy in and grabbed his hand. “Thanks…Heath.”

Patting the quickly fading man’s hand, Heath nodded, “It’s my town too, Fred. Sides, I have more experience than your other two men.”

Two men from the crowd picked up the now unconscious sheriff between them and carried him towards the physician’s office. Howard grabbed hold of the new deputy’s arm and sighed, “You really shouldn’t be riding with that concussion, Mr. Thomson.”

Winking, Heath drawled, “I’ll just add it to the list of other things I shouldn’t have done in my life, doc.”

Shaking his head, the town physician handed the blonde some powders. “Headache powders. You’re gonna need them.”

Nodding, Heath looked up at the two new deputies and drawled, “Get me a badge then get your horses. I’ll meet you at the livery after I get my rifle.”

Nick hurried to reach the side of the blonde heading towards the hotel, “Hey, wait for me!”

Stopping, Heath looked at the rancher, “Sorry, Barkley. You’ll have to see Charger on your own.”

“I’m coming with you, Thomson. Somebody’s gonna have to pick up your sorry carcass when you fall off your horse.” stated Nick with a smile.

Heath grinned, “That’ll never happen, Barkley. But I’d welcome your help.”

The morning temperature was warming rapidly when the small group of men left the town behind. The group led by the newly deputized blonde watched his skill at tracking showing itself to those following his lead. Their leader was determined, tightlipped and possessed the driving desire of a bloodhound on the trail of an animal.

The three men following marveled at the ease in which the fugitives’ trail was picked up after it was lost among one of nature’s ordinary obstacles. Water and rocky ground were surfaces leaving little or no tracks. To an untrained eye, nothing seemed to be disturbed. Everything appeared as it should be in nature’s world.

To the eye of a tracker, the rocks turned over and revealing their muddy ends in the water was significant. Something or someone had to create force to move the rock which was embedded into the muddy bottom of the stream. This was not natural, it was out of place.

To an untrained eye and untrained mind, there was no way to track a horse across a rocky section of land. This land didn’t have any dirt for the horse to press down onto leaving an outline of a hoof print. To the eye of a tracker, the rocky ground would tell its own tale just as the stream did. A small whitened mark would be left on the rocky surface, the end result of the metal of the horse’s shoe striking the rock. No deep impression, only a small blight but one that kept the riders moving.

Heath stopped the group of men after they left the small rocky section which lead towards the west, his eyes on the horizon, the dark low lying clouds creasing his face with anger as much as the realization of the splitting of the two they were after. One continuing west, the other heading north.

Nick and the others took a drink from their canteens, the air was quickly becoming thick with humidity and heat. The day was threatening to draw all the moisture in the riders’ bodies out by means of perspiration.

“How far ahead do you think they are?” questioned Nick.

“No more than an hour, I’d guess.” drawled Heath wiping his sweatband on his hat before gingerly replacing it back on his head. The headache powders he’d taken before they left Stockton had worn off allowing a low throbbing to start again. His head rejoining in with the melody the rest of his body was playing.

Hazel eyes stared intently at the bruised face of the man on the chestnut. The jaw was clenched against pain, his face pale under the bruises, his lips never spoke of the world of hurt Nick knew the blonde was in.

Heath glanced at the other three with him and pointed down to the trails. “They split up. If we don’t catch them now, we may never find them. Barkley and I will take the man going west, you two take the one headed north. Their trails may come back together. We’ll just have to see cause a lot is gonna depend on the weather. Watch yourselves and we’ll see you back in Stockton.”

With the decision made and orders given, the group split into two sets. Both sets of men knowing their jobs and willingly going forth to bring the killers to justice. Heading further west, the trail was easy to read and follow. The man they sought no doubt was relying on mother nature to ensure his escape was made. The men behind him hoped to receive enough time from mother nature to folly his plans.

Today was not their lucky day. Today was not the day mother nature would smile down upon them.

She came rushing forth announcing her intentions by first sending a strong cooler wind to reduce the temperature in their hot, sweaty bodies. The cool air was refreshing and at any other time would have been welcomed with open arms on a hot summer day. After the cool wind, small droplets of rain fell forcing the riders to grab the slickers wrapped in their bed rolls behind the saddles.

The outer garments had barely covered them before she let loose with a hard driving rain. Father nature surely must have gotten on her bad side to have caused the force she used to drive the water to the ground. Mother nature was upset and the men on the ground knew it.

The rain was steady, the lightning and thunder scaring the horses beneath them. Heath shouted to the rancher beside him, his voice barely heard over the howling of the wind and the pelting of the rain drops.

“Barkley, any place close by to hole up?”

Nick gestured and turned Coco heading back the way they came. Heath and Brownie followed the new leader, grateful he was familiar with the area and both hoping to be out of the elements soon. Nick felt the hair on his neck raise up after the jagged streak of lightning cracked close by, he felt Coco’s muscles bunching beneath him and he steadied his faithful friend. Glancing backward to ensure he was still being followed by the blonde, Nick returned the wave he received and moved on.

Heath followed behind keeping the other rider in sight in the darkness of the day. His head felt as if it had been reopened from the pain shooting from the side and radiating upwards to the top of his scalp. His jaw was stiff from clenching it, his fingers grabbed onto the saddlehorn when dizziness threatened to topple him from the saddle. Blinking his eyes, he fought to keep them open and focused on the rancher in front of him.

Nick glanced backwards again and stopped at the sight of the blonde slightly slumped in the saddle. Waiting til Heath was alongside him, Nick yelled over the wind.

“Thomson, we’re almost to the ranch. Can you make it?”

Nodding slowly, the pained sapphire eyes reflected determination not wanting to shout for fear the echo in his head would steal his last remnant of control. Nick nodded back and started onwards. The main house of the ranch the closest port in the storm.

Entering the yard, Nick rode up to the house and hollered for Ciego after he jumped down from Coco. Heath climbed down slowly, holding onto the leather saddle with a death grip until one of his hands were pried away and his arm put across a strong set of shoulders. Nick walked the blonde into the house, his call bringing his mother and oldest brother running into the foyer who stopped in shock at the battered face of the man they saw under his hat.

Heath smiled slightly at the other Barkley family members, his slicker dripping onto the oak paneled floor. “Nice ta see ya’ again, Mrs. Barkley.”

Nick rolled his eyes and growled, “Let’s get these slickers off, Thomson. Then mother can look at your head.”

Grimacing when he nodded, Heath closed his eyes briefly before speaking, “No need to go to any trouble, ma’am. The headache powder’s in my saddlebags. That’s all I need, Mrs. Barkley.”

Victoria looked at Jarrod who nodded and shrugged into a coat, opening the oak door and letting the dampness into the foyer before it was closed again. Putting a hand on his covered arm, the gray eyes were warm and concerned.

“Mr. Thomson, Nick will get you over by the fire while I wait for Jarrod to bring in the medicine.” suggested Victoria, her keen eyes noting her middle son was dragging the blonde more than he was walking.

Jarrod entered and closed the door behind him, handing the bottle to his mother. Victoria smiled her appreciation at Silas who held out a glass of water to her, his ears hearing the conversation in the foyer from where he was dusting some pictures.

“Thank you, Silas.” smiled Victoria pouring in some of the powder and leading the way into the parlor.

After taking off their slickers, Nick had grabbed onto the shaky blonde when he wobbled and steadied him before sitting him on the sofa. Feeling the blonde’s shirt, he growled at the slap his hand received.

“Knock it off, Barkley. It’s dry.” muttered Heath, rubbing his temples in his fingers.

Sitting in the chair next to him, Nick grinned, “Somebody’s gotta watch out for you, Thomson. I think you’re accident prone.”

Looking up, Heath snorted, “I done told ya’ already, you’re bad luck, Barkley.”

“Here you go, Mr. Thomson.” said Victoria holding the glass out to the young man, who smiled gratefully and drank it down. Nick chuckled at the scrunched up face of his trail partner at the taste of the medicine.

“Thank you, Mrs. Barkley. I’m sorry to inconvenience you like this.” apologized Heath.

Sitting across from him, Victoria waved off his apology. “Please there is no reason to apologize. We’re happy to be of help, Mr. Thomson.”

Jarrod walked over to stand behind his mother and smiled, “Seems you may have had a bit of trouble since we last saw each other, Mr. Thomson.”

“Somebody jumped him last night at the livery.” stated Nick answering for the younger man who was sitting back and holding his forehead in his hand. “Mother, Garrett’s dead.”

“What!” exclaimed Jarrod placing a hand on his mother’s shoulder.

Heath looked up into the shocked gray eyes of the woman across from him. “Mrs. Barkley, we were trailing one of them when the rain started. I’m afraid we lost his trail. I’m terribly sorry.”

Patting Jarrod’s hand, Victoria wiped the tears which formed in her eyes and sighed, “We are grateful for you bringing him to Stockton, Mr. Thomson. I admit to wanting a chance to hear what Mr. Garrett would have said in a court of law regarding the murder of my husband, however, it appears we’ll never have that chance. It would have been a closure for our family.”

Understanding reflected in the sapphire eye and Heath nodded slightly, “Yes, ma’am. All is not lost as of yet though, Mrs. Barkley. If we can find out the identities of the two men from this morning, it will be another trail for the law to follow. Catching them may reveal who is behind Garrett’s murder, who wanted to make sure his secrets were never spilled. There is still hope.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thomson.” smiled Victoria standing and turning to Nick. “Nicholas, please show our guest to one of the rooms so he can rest.”

“I’m fine, ma’am.” protested Heath quickly, his words earning him an upraised eyebrow and two small hands on her hips.

“I can see you’re not fine, young man. You are in no condition to ride at this moment and I insist you make use of our hospitality.” stated Victoria firmly.

“Yes, ma’am.” whispered Heath with a sigh before pushing himself to his feet. Nick grabbed onto the slightly teetering man and put his arm over his shoulder steering him out into the foyer.

“Thomson, maybe you should move in with Dr. Merar when we get back to town.” teased Nick helping the blonde up the grand staircase with Jarrod and Victoria watching.

“Barkley, you’re lucky your mother is here or you’d hear exactly what I think of that idea.” growled Heath, his voice carrying down to the entry and lighting up two faces with smiles. “Boy howdy, ya’ didn’t tell me we had to climb a mountain to get to the room.”

Chuckling, Nick shook his head and entered the room next to his, sitting the blonde on the bed. Turning to get a blanket out of the closet, he returned to the bed and covered the exhausted man, already deep in sleep or unconscious. Taking off the boots, Nick quietly closed the door and headed downstairs to the parlor to explain the events of the previous night and the beginning of the day.

Nick leaned against the frame of the open french doors, his arms crossed while he inhaled the freshness of the early evening air. The rain stopped an hour ago, a beautiful painted rainbow graced the valley with its appearance. After delivering the explanation of the events in the last twenty four hours to his mother and brother, the rancher settled in the study to complete some long neglected paperwork.

Staring at the figures in the books, he couldn’t get his mind to focus and wrap itself around the dreaded chore. His eyes would stare unfocused, looking unseeing at nothing through the droplets of rain on the window. It’d been four hours since he’d helped the newly deputized blonde up to a guest room and the last time he’d checked, he was still asleep.

The blonde was deep in slumber and hadn’t moved at all. Nick felt a smile lift the corners of his mouth at the toughness of the younger man. Thinking, Nick knew this man was one of the strongest he’d ever run across and yet, he was so young. His line of thought had him closing the books and opening the doors where he now stood.

Jarrod walked into the room and studied his younger brother’s profile before quietly making his way over and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay, Nick?” inquired the family attorney, his blue eyes looking out over his mother’s carefully manicured garden.

Sighing, Nick shrugged, “I’m just thinking, Jarrod. Thinking about Thomson.”

Removing his hand, Jarrod leaned against the other door frame and suggested, “Mr. Thomson surely is a contradiction, isn’t he?”

“A contradiction?” repeated Nick turning his hazel eyes to pierce the light blue ones. “What do you mean?”

Jarrod replied, “Nick, how many bounty hunters are polite and courteous as him? How many are willing to bring a man in alive rather than dead? How many would ask to be deputized to chase after those two men today? Nick, he is a contradiction to everything I’ve ever known a bounty hunter to be or heard of.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” admitted Nick before turning his eyes back to the outside world. “I was real worried about him last night and today. He shouldn’t have been out riding with his head injury. If it hadn’t started pouring, I don’t think he would’ve stopped til he caught them. He’s one of the toughest people I’ve ever met Jarrod.”

Surprised, Jarrod heard the admiration in the rancher’s voice and smiled, “He can’t be more than twenty years old, brother Nick.”

Nodding, Nick walked over to the bar and poured two drinks, handing one to Jarrod and moved to perch himself on the corner of the desk. “That’d be my guess too. You shoulda seen him in the fight with the Craddock crew, especially when the knife was pulled on him. Then today, he tracked those men til the rain came not once worrying about himself. I think he’s had a very difficult life so far, Pappy.”

“What makes you think so?” questioned Jarrod curiously, watching the wonder in the hazel eyes.

Shrugging, Nick took a sip of his drink, “Just some things he’s mentioned in passing and I’ve seen in his eyes.”

Understanding lit up the blue eyes of the attorney and he smiled to himself. Nick was already almost as protective of the new citizen as he was of anyone in the family. Jarrod could read in the hazel eyes, the trust his little brother placed in this man. Nick was not a man who gave such trust readily and Jarrod found himself eager to know more about the man resting upstairs.

“When I first met him after he caught the Red Ghost..” said Jarrod looking up at the interruption.

“Charger. He named the stallion Charger.” informed Nick with a grin.

Bowing slightly, Jarrod smiled, “Sorry, Charger. When I first saw him after he caught Charger, I felt something familiar about Mr. Thomson.”

“Me, too!” replied Nick. “It feels as if I’ve known him for years. Funny, ain’t it?”

Clapping his younger brother on the back, Jarrod nodded, “Since he’s going to be staying around, I’d say we can look forward to knowing our Mr. Thomson for a lot of years to come.”

Nick stood up and placed his glass on the desk, “Lucky for us and Stockton, he decided to buy a ranch here. I’m gonna see if he’s awake yet.”

Jarrod watched the retreating back of his brother, the excitement in the hazel eyes when he stood up to leave the room left a broad smile on the eldest Barkley son’s face. He took Nick’s place at the french doors and found his mind wondering about the familiar feeling the blonde rose in him and the other members of his family who had come in contact with the bounty hunter.

....Continued