“ Five hundred!” Sam grunted. “ I ain’t got that much left!”

“How much then?”

Sam flipped through his thin stack and could only figure about two hundred dollars. Heath shrugged and reached for his three hundred back.

“Wait! I have three ponies worth a hundred dollar each.” Sam reached into his chest pocket and took out a bill of sale that he handed over to Heath. “ Just bought them today. See for yourself, everything’s in order.”

“ I have no doubt Sam, but let’s just stick to two hundred.”

As Heath reach out to the heap of money to retrieve his three hundred, Sam hooked his wrists. He stared at him with pleading eyes. “Please, leave it.”

In all the years Heath had know Sam, never had he seen that look in his eyes. It frightened him to think that he had turned into this inveterate gambler who would idly play his children’s gifts for a measly three hundred dollars. Heath indulged him, seeing how he was about to burst. Heath knew Sam couldn’t beat his Royal Flush, but nevertheless let his three hundred in the pot and Sam threw the bill of sale on top of the stack of money. Sam flashed a smirk as he laid his cards on the table.

“Try to beat that, my friend,” Sam gloated, leaning back against his chair and taking a long satisfying drag out of his cigar.

Heath fashioned his lopsided smile and without batting an eyelid, displayed his crushingly winning hand on the table, much to everyone’s surprise. Sam’s jaw dropped to the floor and his heart sank when he saw Heath’s hands sweep the heap of money towards him. “I guess it’s my lucky night,” Heath said as he began folding the money into small stacks.

Sam regained his composure and extended his arm to Heath. “The best player won.”

As they shook hands, Heath sensed from Sam that they were no hard feelings. He wasn’t the kind of man to accuse him of cheating either. He had lost fair and square and took his crushing defeat in stride. Both stood from the table as curious onlookers dispersed. Sam put his arms around Heath’s shoulders and invited him to join him in a drink.

“Are you buying?” Heath asked jokingly.

Sam laughed. “For you my friend, anything.”

“ I’ll accept on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

Heath placed the bill of sale for the horses on the counter and slid it towards Sam “That you take back your ponies. I don’t need them but your kids do.”

Sam looked down at the folded document with a heavy heart. He slowly pushed it back to Heath. “No. You won them fair and square.”

Heath took the paper and stuffed it in Sam’s suit pocket. “I can’t take them and you know it.”

Sam stared at Heath and grinned. “You’re stubborn just like your brother Nick, Heath Barkley.”

“It runs in the family,” Heath admitted, tapping Sam on the shoulder. “Now how about that drink?”

“Bartender! Two whiskeys and leave the bottle.”

The name Barkley pounded in the head of a stranger leaning against the bar beside the two friends. He was about to take a swig of his whiskey when he heard the name that made him turned in direction of the man in question. He quaffed down his drink and headed down the street to the livery stable where he met with his partner bedding down the horses for the night.

“Hey John, you in here?”

“Yeah, down here Mac.” John was squatted down, examining his horse left hind hoof.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah, nothing. I thought Cyd here had thrown a shoe but it’s alright.”

“John, still want revenge on Nick Barkley?”

“What a stupid question. That bastard killed my brother. I ain’t gonna forget that until he gets what’s coming to him.”

“His brother Heath’s in town.”

John grappled at Mac’s shirt and drew him closer to his dark seething eyes. “Where?”

“In the saloon. Just won more than seven thousand dollars at poker.”

John slowly loosened his grip on Mac and grinned slyly. “Nick Barkley’s kid brother.”

“You want to get him?”

“Yeah, but he’s mine alone. You got that?”

“Wouldn’t want to spoil your fun.”

“Is he still in the saloon?”

“He was when I left.”

“Alright, you go and keep an eye on him. When he leaves, follow him but don’t let him see you.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“No, he might recognize me. I’ll stay here just in case he should decide to wander in here. Perhaps one of these horses is his.”

“Alright.”

“And Mac. Don’t you lose sight of him.”

“I won’t.”

Mac left the stable and walked across the street back to the saloon. Inside, Heath and Sam were tossing down their third shot of whiskey. Sam was dangerously slipping in an overfestive mood and Heath decided it was time to call it a day. “Oh come on Heath, just one more,” Sam drooled with a giddy laugh.

“Sorry,” Heath said as he felt a yawn coming on. “I’m beat. Got a long ride ahead of me tomorrow.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

“You know you will. I just love taking your money,” Heath said, winking in jest.

Sam playfully swiped his hat at Heath. “Get out of here!”

“You need help getting home. Here, let me help you.” Heath stood and took Sam by the arm.

“I’ll be fine Heath. It’s not the first time. You go on to bed. Have a great ride tomorrow and my best to your family.”

“I’ll tell them. Good night Sam.”

“Good night Heath.”

As Heath left the saloon, Mac followed him. Across the street, lurking in the shadows, John spotted the two men heading down to the hotel. Heath entered while Mac sidled across the street to the stable.

“He’s in the hotel.”

“ I know. I saw him. He probably has a room to bed down for the night.”

“What do we do?”

“Get ourselves a room too. That way we’ll be able to creep into Barkley’s room without arousing suspicions. You go sign us up and use a fake name. We don’t want to leave any traces behind. And pay in advance.”

As Mac entered the hotel, he bumped into Heath heading upstairs.

“Sorry,” Heath apologized to Mac.

“No problem, friend” Mac answered a bit edgy of having made eye contact with the man who could now identify him. He went to the clerk and registered a room. As the clerk presented him with the book and reached for a key, Mac’s piercing green eyes followed Heath entering the first room on the left.

“Here, sir, please sign the register right here,” the clerk said, pointing at the empty space. Mac signed with two Xs. “That’ll be five dollars for the night.”

Mac reached into his shirt pocket and tossed a five-dollar bill on the counter. He poked his head out the front door and beckoned John to come. The coast was clear. John and Mac headed up the stairs. The clerk eyed the two men warily, carefully studying their features.

During the night, John and Mac readied themselves for the abduction. Mac went out to saddle the two horses and brought them in the back of the hotel. He went back to the hotel room where Sam waited, standing by Heath’s bedroom door. He knocked.

Inside, Heath grunted out of sleep. He rubbed his eyes. “Who is it?”

“ It’s the sheriff. Please open up. I need to talk to you. It’s about Sam Clutter.”

The name made Heath shot to a sitting position and jump right out of bed. He opened the door, squinting at the light from the passageway. Mac cocked his gun and pointed at a stunned Heath. John pushed him back inside the room and they closed the door.

“So Barkley, you recognize me, don’t you boy?” John asked snidely.

“John Pettus.”

“That’s right. Take a good look at my face ‘cause I want it stamped on your mind as you watch me kill you.”

From behind, Mac thwacked the stock of his gun onto Heath’s head, knocking him unconscious.

“What about his money? Do we take it?” Mac asked.

“How much?”

“Seven thousand and some smackeroos.” Mac opened the top drawer and took the roll of money.

“We’d be fools to leave it here for the clerk to get his hands on it. Heath Barkley ain’t gonna live to spend it anyway.”

Mac slung the limpish body over his shoulder as John made sure they were in the clear before guiding him to the back entrance stairway. They draped Heath across the horse’s neck and Mac straddled his mount behind him. John swung up on his horse and cast a last look around to spot any unwanted onlookers before they both trotted away off the main street.

They rode a few miles out of town and stopped alongside the road. Mac let Heath’s dead weight fall to the ground with a loud thud. The blow jolted Heath awake.

John slid down his horse and as he prepared to thrust his heel in Heath’s chest, Heath grabbed a hold of his assailant’s ankle and pulled at his leg to throw him off balance. No sooner had John fell to the ground that Heath was wrestling him for his gun.

Suddenly, a gunshot resounded and Heath’s back arched. The bullet had found its way into his gut. John pushed him off him and with eyes blazing murderously, began kicking Heath in the ribs and in the stomach. When the agonizing man curled up in a foetal position, John kicked him in the back. Heath tried to shield himself from the repeated blows but to no avail. A kick in the back of the skull aggravated an already throbbing headache. As Heath gasped for air, choking, gaging and contorting in agony, John reached inside his saddlebag and pulled out a boning knife. He brushed his thumb against the razor-sharp edge with a predatory expression before he knelt down beside Heath. He violently seized a lock of the blond hair and yanked Heath’s head back to glare into his glazed pained eyes.

“Look at me, boy! This is a message for Nick Barkley.” He plunged the dagger into his left shoulder. Heath yelped in excruciating pain. “An eye for an eye.” Pettus knifed him once more. Heath’s eyes popped out of their orbits as his bloodcurdling scream rent the misty night air. Black dots began dancing before his eyes. “A tooth for a tooth,” Pettus continued, viciously stabbing Heath in the right shoulder. The curtain of darkness dropped abruptly and shrouded Heath into unconsciousness.

John grinned maliciously. His face lit up with triumph as he stood up and looked down at his dying prey while cleaning the blood off the blade with his bandana. He kicked Heath in the back to turn him on his right side. He pulled out his gun and pumped three bullets in his lower back. Heath’s body jerked with each entry. John casually sheathed his gun and reached for the roll of money in his pocket. He pulled out a few dollar bills that he let float down to the ground. “For the funeral.”

He walked back to his horse Mac was holding. He put his knife back in the saddlebag and looked heavenwards. “You can rest in peace, now Bill. You’ve been avenged, brother.” He mounted his horse.

“Don’t you want to bury the corpse?”

“No. I want someone to find it so that Nick Barkley will know that his kid brother’s dead.”

An hour had passed since the brutal attack. Heath was lying on his right side in a pool on his own blood. His stiff muscles were burning through his chalky frigid skin. His eyelids fluttered feverishly as he tried to pry them apart. He managed weakly to open his glassy hollow eyes at a slit to barely discern shapes and colors. His labored breathing rasped in his lungs. Each painful intake of air applied pressure on his broken ribcage, which would not allow to expand further. The defeaning ringing in his ears was driving him to the edge of dementia. His head was pounding out of his fractured skull. Both his shoulders were numbed. He couldn’t move his arms or hands nor wiggle his fingers. He felt sick to his stomach and dryheaved a few times before emptying the content mixed with phlegmy blood. He knew he wasn’t going to survive this attack and decided to make his peace with God. As he began reciting a psalm, he was interrupted by a loud gruff voice ordering him to get up. “Come on slowpoke. Time to get up.”

Heath tried to focus on the hazy figure squatting beside him. “ N...Nick!” he rasped out in a voice barely above a whisper.

The haloed Nick stood upright, arms akimbo. “That’s right. Rise and shine, Little Brother. We’ve got work to do.”

“ I…I can’t,” Heath studdered sickly.

“You can’t or you won’t?” Nick chided.

“Ni…Nick…he..help me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Nick’s words cut through Heath like the knife blade that ripped through his flesh. “What?”

Nick hunched down again. “I can’t help you because I don’t know what happened to you. I don’t know where you are. You have to tell me so that I can find you and bring you home.”

Heath batted his eyes nervously, struggling to make sense of what his brother was telling him. How could he not know where he was when he was standing next to him? He saw Nick walk away. “No….no,” Heath tried to shout but the words came out in whispers.

Nick stopped, turned around and with a mournful look in his eyes, said, “Tell me, Little Brother and I’ll come and get you.” He then vanished.

Tears misted Heath’s eyes as he tried to reach out to the vanishing figure. “Nick, Com…come back,” he cried out.

Another voice resonated. ”He’s not leaving you, Brother Heath”

Heath looked up and there was Jarrod’s figure shimmering in a glowing light. “Ja..Jarrod…”

“Reach out to him and he’ll listen.”

“I…can’t.”

“Yes you can. You must hang on Heath. Your family loves you and needs you. You can’t give up.”

“It..it…hurts too…too…much.”

Jarrod’s silhouette slowly began to evanesce. “Tell Nick,” Jarrod said, his voice wafting through the air as he disappeared.

“Jarrod, don’t leave me,” Heath pleaded in a choking whisper. His icy body broke out in a shudder and his eyes rolled back in his head before he lost consciousness.

Back at the ranch, the family was gathered at the dining room table for breakfast. Nick was prodding his food distractedly, a typical habit of Heath’s when something is obviously nagging him. Nick’s empty gaze was an unmistakable sign that he’d left the earth, which was unusal for him, especially during mealtime. He had a burning feeling that something was amiss.

“Nick when you go into town this afternoon I’d like it if you could pick up a sack of flour.” Victoria asked.

Nick remained stoic, drifting in his thoughts.

“Nicholas?” Victoria said louder.

Nick dazedly turned his head towards his mother. “What?”

“Nick did you hear what I just said?”

“Sure,” he replied absently.

“Nicholas, is something wrong?” When she didn’t get an asnwer, she nudged him on the shoulder. “Nick!”

“What?”

“Something is troubling you.”

Nick’s face cringed. “I just feel sick to my stomach.”

“Why don’t you go have a lie down,” she said as she felt his forehead.

“ No, no. It’s okay It’ll pass.”

“You feel up to going into town?”

Nick stood from his chair. “Of course. I have to pick up some barbed wires for the fences.”

“Be a dear and pick up a sack of flour. I want to bake a cake for Heath’s homecoming.” The mere mention of Heath’s name shot pins and needles into his stomach but he swallowed his discomfort. “Sure thing, Mother.” He bent down to kiss her on the cheek before he put on his hat and headed outside.

“I wonder what’s wrong with Nick,” Audra commented.

“I believe Brother Nick is suffering from a mild case of jealousy,” Jarrod observed.

“Jealousy?” Audra snorted.

“He feels a bit left out because Heath didn’t offer him to tag along on his trip. He sees Sam Clutter as a competitor for Heath’s affection.”

“That’s ridiculous, Jarrod. Nick is Heath’s brother.”

“I know, but remember what happened with Fred Thorton last year? Heath and Nick were at each other’s throat because Heath was spending too much time with him.”

“Well as Nick would say: this is a working ranch. He was mad at Heath because he was neglecting his ranch duties.”

“Not so, little sister. Heath’s chores were properly done on time. But as soon as he was finished he would whisk into town to spend time with Fred.” Jarrod turned to her concerned mother. “Don’t worry. Once Heath returns home, Nick will be back to his old bellowing self.”

Victoria stifled a chuckle. She put a hand on Jarrod’s arm and smiled gratefully. “I’m sure he will.”

Later in the afternoon, Nick found it hard to concentrate on his work as the sinking feeling grew deeper. He kept hammering a pole into the ground, lost in his own thoughts.

“Hey Nick!” Jim shouted, trying to snap him out of his daze.

“What?”

“If you keep hammering at that pole you’re going to smash it to shreds.”

“ Sorry. I wandered off.”

“You’ve been miles away ever since you got back from town. Something on your mind?”

“Just got a gut feeling that something’s not right but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“ It is about the work?”

“ No, no.”

“The ranch? The men?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Your family?”

“No, Everyone’s alright.”

“When’s Heath coming back?”

“About two hours ago. I’m sure he’s at the house, taking a nap from the long ride from Tuckerville.”

“But you’re not sure.”

“Why do you ask?”

“You don’t sound very convincing. Maybe that’s what’s bothering you. Why don’t you go check. I’ll finish here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah I’m sure. Now go on. Ease your conscience.”

“Thanks Jim.” Nick tapped him on the shoulder and mounted Coco.

As he neared the ranch, his stomach curled up in knots.

He hurried inside the house. “Mother!” he bellowed.

“Shhhh Nicholas, not so loud, please!” Victoria admonished as she exited the living room.

“Sorry, I forgot. Heath’s napping, right?”

“No, he isn’t home yet.”

Her answer knocked the wind out of him « He was supposed to arrived two hours ago. »

“He probably decided to stay in Tuckerville for another day.”

“No, he would have wired us and I dropped by the telegraph office this morning and there were none.”

“He probably got delayed.”

“No something’s wrong, Mother.” Nick felt a tightening in his chest that caused his breathing to increase.

“Nick, calm down.” Victoria took fright at her son’s reaction to Heath’s lateness. She placed a soothing hand on his arm.

“I’ve had an annoying feeling since this morning that something was wrong. Now I know. He’s in big trouble.”

“Nick, give him a couple of hours.”

Jarrod entered the house. “Hello, Mother.” He gave her a wonted kiss on the cheek. He looked at Victoria and Nick, his eyes swivelling back and forth between the two worried expressions. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to find Heath. You coming with me?” Nick asked bluntly, shooting straight to the point without so much of an explanation.

“Something happened?”

“He’s nearly three hours late!”

“Nick that doesn’t mean he’s…”

“He’s in trouble, Jarrod,” Nick interjected sharply. He stared at him. “Now are you coming?”

Jarrod read the anguish that mirrored in the dark eyes. Nick’s connection with Heath defied explanation and baffled the mind, but if there’s one thing Jarrod learned is to never question it. “Okay. Give me ten minutes to change and I’ll join you.”

An hour dragged on before they finally came across Heath’s body sprawled on the side of the road.

“That’s him!” Nick shouted as he jumped down Coco before his horse had a chance to come to a complete halt. He rushed to the brutally mangled frame. “Heath!” Nick’s heart shattered at the ghastly sight before him Heath was deathly pale, his skin icy cold and and his breathing barely audible. He knelt down and gently cradled his dying brother in his arms as Jarrod prepared the back of the wagon to receive the injured passenger.

“Heath! I got you brother. You’re going to fine.”

“Ni..Nick?” Heath breathed out feebly.

“Yeah,” Nick smiled as he stroked his brother’s blood-matted hair.

“Jo..John Pet Pettus.”

“Pettus? He did this to you?”

Heath nodded weakly. “Ey..eye for a an e…e…eye.”

“I killed his brother in self-defense. He knows it.” Nick began seething. “I’ll find him Heath. I’ll find and I’ll make him pay for what he did to you.”

“I…I’ll…he…help you..fi..fi.find him.”

“You bet. You’ll be up in that saddle in no time.”

Heath cringed in pain and coughed up blood that trickled down the corner of his mouth. Nick tried to shift him into a more comfortable position. “Just…just rem…remember to..to listennnn” Heath’s voice tailed off as his head slumped to the right.

“Noooooooooooooooooo!” Nick’s terrorful scream echoed for miles around.

In his bed, Nick gasped in a deep breath as he jolted out of sleep, spinging into a sitting position. He was short winded and bathed in sweat. The vividness of the gory nightmare stamped him with a stinging sensation in the pit of his stomach. He scrunched his eyes together and gnashed his teeth in concentration, summoning every fiber of his being to confirm his premonition. The walls of his aching mind reverberated with Heath’s desperate cries for help. Nick knew his brother was crying out to him.

He threws the blankets aside and bounced out of bed. After splashing water onto his face to wipe his drawn expression, he slipped on his clothes and boots, fastened his gunbelt around his waist and headed downstairs with light steps. He quickened the pace to the front door.

Jarrod was in the livingroom, giving the fire a few pokes, when he saw Nick sneaking out of the house. “Nick!”

Nick jumped out of his skin. “Jarrod! What are you doing down here at this time of night?”

“I could ask you the same question.” Jarrod eyed Nick from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“I’m going out.”

“Nick, it’s the middle of the night! What’s so important that can’t wait till the morning?”

“Heath’s in trouble.”

“How do you know that?” Jarrod queried with his brows knitted in concern.

Nick heaved a heavy sigh. “I just know.” Without batting an eyelid, he locked stares with Jarrod who instantly recognized the wounded look in his eyes, one that surmised that a tragedy had befallen Heath.

“I’m going with you,” Jarrod said with a voice tinged with a warning not to argue.

“Alright. I’ll hitch up the wagon while you get dressed.”

“Wagon? Are you sure?”

Nick nodded dejectedly.

“Okay, I’ll get dressed and meet you out back.”

While Nick hastened on to the barn, Jarrod stode up the stairs to his bedroom and jumped in his clothes. Minutes later, he bolted down to the livingroom to leave a note to Victoria before joining Nick in the barnyard. Barely had he hopped in the front seat of the rig that Nick whipped the horses onwards.

It had been four hours and Heath was still clinging to life. The pain had considerably dwindled and he wondered if that was a good sign or that the end was drawing near. How could he have hung on so long, riddled with bullets and knife wounds? He was shuddering uncontrollably, unable to get warm. His slimy throat smelled of vomit mixed with blood. The only comforting news is that the wounds had formed a scab and were no longer oozing blood. His entire body was numb by the cold and his vision was blurred. His ears had stopped ringing, but he could hardly hear the birds chirping and the russling of leaves. He withdrew more within himself, getting closer to his God and knew it was only a matter of minutes before he would meet his maker.

“Heath,” a gentle voice whispered in his ear.

Heath opened his eyes and saw Audra kneeling by his side. “Au..Audra?”

“Yes. Help is on its way.”

“Nick?”

“Yes, he heard you, Heath. You did it. He’s coming. Hold on. You’ll soon be home.” Audra slowly vanished. Her words brought great comfort to Heath who struggled even more to stay alive. He started to shed tears of joy and relief. His brother was coming to help him. For a brief moment, he felt serene, but a sharp pain in his back quickly brought him back to reality. He was not going to succumb to the inevitable fate that was awaiting him now that Nick was on its way to get him back home. He fought to keep his head above water as he slowly felt himself sink deeper. He was drowning in his own blood and mucus began choking his airway. He fought back the shroud of darkness drawing closer to bundle him up for eternity.

“My poor boy. What have they done to you?” Leah sobbed as she brushed her ethereal hand over Heath’s battered body.

“Ma..mama?”

“Yes, I’m here.” She stroked his cheek. He wished he could feel her warm touch but his body was so cold.

“Don’t…don’t go.”

“ I’m not leaving you, Heath.”

“Ta…take me..w…with you,” he beseeched waveringly with tears flooding his hallow eyes.

“No!” Victoria shouted as she knelt down beside Leah and brushed the hair back from Heath’s brow. She looked at Leah. “I won’t let you take him.”

“Mo..Mother?”

“Yes Sweetheart, I’m here. Your brothers Nick and Jarrod are close to finding you. You will be home soon.”

Heath began to whimper.

“I must take him Victoria,” Leah said.

“No you can’t, not after you sent him to me. You can’t take him, not now. I won’t let you,” Victoria argued forcefully, hoping to get her point across and sway Leah’s decision.

Leah stared ruefully at Victoria and rested her hand on her arm. “I’m sorry.”

The distant thud of approaching hooves made the two figures disappear.

Dawn had broken. Pink-tinged clouds hovered in the horizon as they two brothers pursued their course. As the wagon jostled along the road, Jarrod sensed that Nick was guided spiritually on the right path and therefore refrained himself from voicing his concern about the peculiar direction taken. As for him, Nick was silent, inwardly nourishing a flicker a hope that his nightmare was the result of indigestion as opposed as a foreboding.

Jarrod looked up at a cluster of vultures circling above. He swallowed dryly when a grim thought crossed his mind. As they made a turn in the road, he quickly made out a lump in a shape of a human body. “Nick, over there!” he shouted, pointing to Heath.

Nick urged the horses onwards, slashing their backs with the reins. He leapt off the wagon and bolted to his brother.

“Heath!” Nick knelt by Heath and gently cradled him in his arms. “Heath, come on. Stay with me. We got you brother. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Jarrod groped Heath’s wrist in search of a pulse.

“Come on Heath, give me a sign here.” Nick coerced Heath to respond to his voice by shaking him lightly.

A teary-eyed Jarrod placed his hand on Nick’s arm to put an end to his useless pleas. “Nick…he’s dead.”

“No!” Nick elbowed Jarrod in the arm to wrench himself free from his grasp. He looked down at Heath’s ashen face, his eyes watering as he softly stoked his brother’s cheek. “I can’t be late.” He lifted the dead weight and clutched it to his chest, rocking back and forth. “He’ll make it.”

“Nick…” Jarrod reached out to his woeful brother, only to have his hand swiped away. “DON’T touch him!” he glared at Jarrod before his eyes took on a vacant look. “Come on Heath,” he lifted his brother’s corpse in his arms, “let’s get you home.” He carried him to the back of the wagon where he gently settled him on a heap of blankets. He spread one over him and tucked the edge neatly underneath his shoulders. “You sleep now.” Nick said tonelessly with a phlegmatic countenance that worried Jarrod. Nick climbed in the front seat without blinking or uttering a single word, and whipped the horses back to the ranch. His eyes were devoid of expression, whether it was shock, sadness or anger. Nick didn’t exhibit any emotion to his brother’s death.

Nick reined back the team outside the main house. Without so much of a glance at Jarrod or Heath, he climbed down and wandered off, leaving Jarrod with the harrowing task to tell Victoria and Audra. They both dashed out of the house.

“Jarrod, I read your note. Did you find Heath” Victoria asked all in a flutter.

Jarrod stared at his mother with a funereal expression. “He’s in the back.”

Audra went ahead of her mother who remained by Jarrod, bolted to the spot. His downcast eyes told her all she needed to know.

“He’s not…?” Victoria ventured to ask.

Jarrod gulped and nodded mournfully.

Audra climbed in the back of the wagon and crawled over to her dead brother. She took a lungful of air to muster up the courage to lift the blanket off Heath’s chest. She put a hand to her mouth as she gasped in horror at the nauseating sight.

“Where is Nick?” Victoria asked in concern.

“He wandered out back. I think he needs to be alone.”

Nick slouched inside the stable with a heart laden with grief and anger. He refused to give free rein to his emotions he’d kept tighly bottled up since the ghoulish discovery. He fought against the reality of his brother’s macabre death. He could not come to term with the fact that he’d fail to save him.

In his stall, Charger stamped his hind leg. The thud broke into Nick’s thoughts. A frail smile wavered on his lips as he stepped over to the bay to pet him. Suddenly, it hit him. The cork popped open and all the emotions came gurgling out in an unrestrained torrent of tears. He clasped Charger’s mane with both hands to avoid falling to his knees and laid his head against his neck. “I’m sorry, Heath. I should have there for you. Why didn’t you ask me to come along with you? Why?”

“Nick!” Jarrod shouted as he excitedly rushed to his brother. “Nick!”

“Go away, Jarrod.”

“Nick,” Jarrod placed his hands on Nick’s drooping shoulders, “Nick, he’s alive!”

Nick choked back his tears. With puffy-red eyes, he stared shockingly at Jarrod wearing a large euphoric grin. “What?”

“He’s breathing. Go see for yourself. I’ve got to ride into town to get Doctor Merar.” Jarrod gave Nick’s shoulders a tight squeeze. “He’s alive, Nick!”

Nick heaved out the breath he’d been holding before he sprinted to the rig to find his mother hunched down in the back, gently stroking Heath’s hair. “Mother?”

She turned to Nick with a beaming smile. “Seems your brother’s stubborn as you are. He’s not ready to give up.”

Nick stood transfixed with fear that it was all a figment of his imagination.

“Audra has gone up to get his bedroom ready. You’d better ask one of the hands to help you carry him upstairs.”

Nick snapped out of his trance and sneezed out a shuddering giggle. He smiled responsively and nodded.

Once Heath was stripped out of his clothes and given a sponge bath pending Merar’s arrival, Nick sat at his ailing brother’s side, hands folded together over his mouth and elbows resting on his thighs, concentrating on the shallow breathing. Both Audra and Victoria were in the kitchen with Silas boiling more water and gathering washcloths and towels.

Nick scooted his chair closer to the bed at first sign of a flinch. “Heath!” he coaxed in a faint whisper.

Heath weighty eyelids open at half-mast.

“Heath!” Nick whispered louder to lure Heath’s attention towards him. He brushed his hand lightly against Heath’s arm. “You’re still with us, Little Brother.”

“Nick?” Heath moaned.

“That’s right?”

“You..you real?” Heath managed to utter audibly in a wheezing breath.

“Course I am!” Nick gently squeezed Heath’s arm. “Feel that?”

Heath responded with a few blinks and a gulp down his phlegmy throat. Nick dipped a washcloth into the jug of water and applied it to Heath’s lips. “He’s a bit of water.” Heath licked his moist lips and blinked his thanks.

“How?” Heath asked.

“A dream. In it I had a bugging hunch that you needed help.”

“You…you heard…heard me?”

“That I did.” Nick’s eyes took on a seething look. “John Pettus did this to you, didn’t he?”

“How…how d’you know?”

Nick leaned closer to Heath and laid his hand on his brow. “You told me. Remember to listen, you said. When it comes to you, I’m all ears,” Nick said with a smile bordering on tears.

Heath returned the smile and closed his eyes.

“Heath, remember up at Indian Springs last camping trip when I nearly strangled you to death and I busted my back?”

Heath forced open his glassy eyes to stare at Nick quizzically.

“Remember when we thought we were going to lose you and then…well, you know?”

Heath blinked.

“I’m holding you to that promise.”

“I’ll…I’ll try,” Heath whispered. “Thanks for…for list..listening.”