Hours had passed in the storm and Nick chased the thunder north daring its fire to strike again. Exhausted, Nick fell to his knees in the wide-open field feeling the rain bombard his skin like thousands of reminders to the guilt he felt and to the anguish in his heart. “Forgive me.” Nick could not hear his own quiet voice through the thunder that tore his words to shreds. He felt a quietness gently settle about him; a stillness that encased him and separated him from the war nature was waging across the land. This quietness, this moment, was a chance, his chance. “Forgive me, Lord, I haven’t even really tried to talk to you since I stopped praying for a little brother.” Nick thought sure his heart was being crushed as he squeezed out the last two words.

Nick considered himself a religious man. He went to church when he could. He prayed, sang, and gave thanks at all the appropriate times. He was a good man, or tried his best to be. Now he realized how much his relationship to God, echoed the one he had with Heath. He accepted their existence and behaved accordingly. He now realized his mistake. He had not taken them into his heart.

Nick thought of all the words, songs, and prayers that had become mere sounds caught in the chaos of life. “Have I lost faith? What is faith?” Nick could barely stand to push the words through his constricted throat. “God, you answered my prayer. You gave me a little brother.” His words fell from his mouth as he fell prostrate before his God. “I gave up hope, gave up faith; I stopped believing that you would, that you could, provide me with my brother. I grew up and did not believe in that miracle. I knew you could perform them, I just didn’t believe you would. Not for me. Heath is the only thing in life I have ever had to ask for, ever wanted, the only one I ever needed, that I did not get. I gave up asking but there was an emptiness in my soul, and I thought you weren’t listening to me, I thought the ache was a small price to pay for all that I had. I gave thanks for all that I had but stopped looking for what I needed. I stopped talking to you about the important things about the things that caused the ache in my soul. Did I deny you? I thought that I did not need to bother you because you had already provided for me. I beg you now; I have nothing, without you. I’m sorry. Only you can save me from my mistake, my horrible, horrible mistake. Forgive me. Heath is my brother, your gift, your blessing, your son. The bond that we share, the brotherhood you allowed us to share, the miracle you gave me, I denied. I denied my blessing; I denied your gift and your love. I denied Heath and I denied you. God, I am so scared, so terrified. Forgive me. Please do not take your gifts from me. I will keep them precious, and cherish them always, I promise.”

Nick’s sorrow and regret filled his heart that pounded like the thunder around him, and his tears mixed with the rain as they ran to bury themselves in the soil. The storm brought him comfort and despair as he thought that for his sins, God might strike him down, but that had already happened. He laughed in horror as the irony of his ignorance played out before him. He stayed with his God all night in the hollow of the valley where he had lost his brother, where the trees bent low to the wind and the leaves chanted his prayers. On the open land, Gods ground, where the heavens were huge and full of anger, Nick bore all the shame and humility and anguish that that had settled in his heart. “Please let me be strong enough to have faith in you.”

The next day, the rest of the family waited for Nick and Heath at home, hoping that the words in his note would come true. Jarrod stayed all day with his Mother and Audra. He knew Nick’s panic had them very worried. He stayed to keep their emotions focused on what they knew - that Heath would be back tomorrow. Victoria spent much of that day looking at one of Heath’s notebooks. She marveled at the wonderful surprises Heath’s small book disclosed. Heath had come to stake his claim on the ranch, not with blame or protest, sure in the beginning, but now with drawings and ideas, designs, budgets, maps and plans. Heath had already made a future for himself on the ranch and Victoria was so happy. “I just hope he gets to realize them. That child is either living one step ahead of the rest of us or in the past.”

Victoria continued to meander through his journal, becoming more familiar with its pages as morning turned to midday then night. Her younger sons did not come home.

The Bentells loaded up the wagon to resume their journey. Heath was shivering and feverish, as the wagon started moving again. About noon, the wagon came to a halt. Bentell got out of the wagon and went around to the back to get Heath.

“Well now Thomson, I guess this is the end of the line. You prisoners seem to be crawling out of the woodwork just like rats. Can’t stand the sight of you. You think now that the war is over that you’re off the hook. It’s the same with all you prisoners. I’ve had to take care of a bunch of you now that you’ve been liberated. You all want to kill me. But you can’t beat me. It is you who die. I will kill every last one of you who tries to get in my way. You, I gave a choice. I knew I could break you. Soon you will welcome death. I only wish I could be there to see it.”

Heath was still hanging on to consciousness. Bentell pulled him upright in the wagon and Heath could see that they had arrived at the timber camp. Bentell shoved Heath and let him tumble from the wagon. Heath was still damp and his leg was swelling up where the bullet had entered. His body had begun to fight the bullet and was trying to burn out its poison.

“We’re gonna play a little game of hide n’ seek. I am going to hide you and maybe your family will seek after you. Who, by the way, won’t miss you ‘til tomorrow. They only got half of your note. I’ll just have to make sure you can’t give them any more clues.”

Bentell shoved Heath across the back of the stallion and tied it to the back of the wagon.

He then took the reins of the horses and they all headed farther up the road.

Heath could hardly breathe - his weakened ribs were being crushed by his own weight and it was increasingly difficult to draw in air. He was concentrating so intensely on breathing he had very little sense of how long they had been traveling.

Bentell drove the horses through the ancient forest. When he finally felt satisfied with the distance they covered, Bentell pulled Heath off his horse and dragged him to a thicket of thorny undergrowth. Neither one escaped the sharp barbs that pierced their skin. Bentell tied Heath’s hands behind his back and tied his legs together.

Buck and Gag: A form of corporal punishment used during the Civil War era. The soldier set on the ground, and had his hands and feet bound. His knees were drawn up between his arms and a rod inserted under the knees and over the arms. A stick was placed in his mouth sideways. The offending soldier was normally placed in full view of the command and had to endure this punishment for hours. It was normally reserve for shirkers, stragglers and drunkards.

“There now, you see how long that family of yours looks for you. I left you right near the road. Think they’ll bother to look through thorns? No you aren’t worth one more drop of blood to them. What you got from their daddy is all you’ll ever have of the Barkleys. They’ll ride right by you. You’ll hear them call for you ‘til there’s nothing left to hear. Then you’ll be alone. You were always afraid to be alone weren’t you? Afraid to be without love. Such a good boy, always had someone watch out for you. You’ll die knowing that the love you want so badly couldn’t find you.”

Bentell picked his way past the thorns as he exited the barbed enclosure. Heath lay on top of thorny stems. Any movement would push them deeper into his skin.

Heath forced himself to relax. He remembered seeing Nick alone in a wide-open field under a stormy sky. He wanted to go back there now and find him. Tell him to hurry. He closed his eyes and let the wind cool his fevered skin.

In his sleep or from his fever Heath walked a long way through a dark forest until the trees became farther apart and Heath could see up through them. As he came to the edge of woodland he saw the land lay wide before him. He searched for his brother this looked like the right place. NICK, NICK, I’m over here! Nick can you hear me? Heath yelled when he saw Nick again in the distance. He tried to run toward him but the wind pushed him back. He yelled and waved his arms, trying to get Nick’s attention. OVER HERE!

Nick continued to pray for guidance, afraid to let a moment of doubt creep in. He thanked God for the gift of being able to find and save Heath. Nick did not want to risk breaking his hold on his fragile relationship with God. He had more work to do before he found his faith.

By afternoon, Nick was exhausted, but still searched alone, barely able to keep his eyes open. He had not gotten any sleep. He decided to rest before he fell off his horse. He never felt so tired.

Nick looked up into the sun and let it wash over him. “I can’t find him God. Why can’t I find him now?”

Nick knelt, shaking and looking very much cried out. He then let his body topple to the ground. He closed his swollen eyes to rest, and was soon asleep.

Nick woke to find himself in a dream. He heard Heath calling his name. The storm was still raging and the sound of his voice was being carried by the wind. Nick saw Heath struggling against it to get to him. Nick ran through it and toward his brother, reaching and embracing him. “I’m so glad I found you. I was so afraid. I lost you Heath. You were gone from me. I couldn’t feel anything. I didn’t know if you were dead, alive or hurt, I just didn’t know. God gave you to me Heath, and I aim to take care of you always. You’re the person who will share the ranch with me, spend the most time with me; have the most to put up with from me. You are my brother, my only prayer and it was answered. I need to find you Heath. Where are you?”

“Nick, I don’t hurt anymore, not now, not now that you found me.”

Nick looked his brother over and found him uninjured. “You don’t look hurt Heath, were you hurt?” Nick could not find any injuries.

“I was hurtin’ so bad Nick but it’s better now. Don’t understand it. I’ve been calling you Nick, thinking you wouldn’t find me. I wasn’t strong enough to fight the wind. I thought the pain would take me and you’d never hear me calling. The closer you came the less pain I felt. I’m ok now Nick.” Heath smiled at his brother.

Nick began to panic again. “Where are you Heath? This ain’t real. I need to know where you are.”

“I’m here with you Nick, that’s all I know.” Heath’s brow furled as he tried to remember where he’d come from, and how he’d gotten there. “I was scared Nick, I was calling you and I hurt so bad thinking I’d die and you’d never find me, that you’d look and look forever, you’d look forever, and I was right near by calling you. I prayed, I knew I didn’t have much strength left to keep calling. I prayed that God could take me, but let you find my body. I couldn’t bear you lookin the rest of your life, not knowing. I’m right near by Nick, and I’m, I don’t hurt anymore.” “Nick”, Heath’s eyes filled with tears as he realized what he had to tell his brother. “Nick, you have to stop looking for me. I think that’s why I’m here now. You see, I’m okay. I’ll be fine. You have to promise me you’ll get back to the ranch and family and not keep looking, I think you’re not meant to find me, but look now and know I’m fine.” Heath gave Nick that crooked smile of his.

Nick wouldn’t listen to what Heath was saying; He shook his head and held his brother tighter. “I will find you Heath.” He turned and ran back to the pasture, never turning back.

Heath woke in waning light, to the sound of hoof beats, pain and shivering he could not control. He was still soaked and the second night outside seemed colder than the first. He was going to be found. The earth was trembling with the beat of hooves. Heath tried to call out, his heart was racing; he couldn’t move or yell out, his noises were so small. The sound of the horse was loud and he could smell the horse as it passed. The rider was so near. He recognized Nick’s voice, hoarse calling his name. Heath tried to call out but only managed to pass out when he ran out of air. When he woke He thought he heard the lone rider go by again. He tried to make a noise again but went to sleep instead.

Nick felt warmed by the late afternoon sun when he awoke in the pasture. He mounted Coco and rode aimlessly begging, praying for mercy. He had never felt so alone, so powerless or afraid. “Heath is near,” He muttered over and over to himself. Toward evening, he found himself near the timber camp. All day he had ridden with no sense of direction or self. With a sense of urgency, Nick spurred Coco to race to the cabin. He entered it and found two sets of dishes in the sink. Bentells had come through here. They had Heath, or at least they took him. Nick’s heart stopped. Why hadn’t he thought of them yesterday? Nick set out on Coco and followed the road that wandered through the trees. Nick continued down the road for miles without finding Heath. He doubled back from end to beginning and beginning to end. Bentell had hidden Heath some where in these woods. Nick knew it. , trusting his heart that Heath was near. “Please let him be alive.” Maybe Heath didn’t know it, but Nick had opened his heart and needed him there. Heath had told him not to look but Nick knew in his heart he was still alive. He put his trust in God, and followed his heart.

Nick searched far into the night calling for his brother. He called and called from dusk, until the sky closed over the trees and no light was left to penetrate them. Silence overwhelmed him. He dismounted Coco and tethered him to a tree branch. He walked the trail he had ridden all day, and listened. Nick was lost in prayer, the one he had offered so often, many years before, but then forgotten. “Please God, give me the brother you put in my heart, I need him and he needs me.” Nick listened to every breath of wind, every sound of life as it continued into the night. He heard the splintering of time as the limbs of ancient trees became too weak to continue their reach for the sun and fell to earth. What seemed to be silence was too loud now as the darkness whispered doubtful words, and he covered his ears with his hands. He found his prayer again and let it fill his head and his heart. He captured the silence and began to discern a very small sound, and followed it to a clump of thorns. He pushed his way through and knelt beside his brother, and listened to him sleep.

Nick laid his hand on his brother’s warm face. He lowered his head and placed it on the soft skin of Heath’s neck. “Thank-you God. Thank-you.” With trembling hands, he untied Heath’s bindings and tried to determine what if any injuries Heath had sustained. Nick did his best to check Heath over where he lay but it was so dark and cramped and the brambles seemed to grab hold of him and pull him away with every movement he made. Having found only frustration in the small twisted space, Nick began to lift his brother out of the thorns. Heath tried to squirm away, moaning in pain. Nick momentarily lost his grip on his brother and they become deeper entangled in the brush. Nick held him tighter, not giving Heath another chance to move and pulled free from the barbs that sliced bits of flesh and cloth as they rose from the brier. Nick carried his brother out of the place Bentell had left him to die alone, and placed him on the ground, softly matted with pine needles.

Heath was soaked and shivering. He had a fever, but his fingers were too cold. Heath’s right leg was wet and sticky: it felt warm and swollen too. Nick thought the stickiness might be blood. Nick found Heath’s hair to be sticky as well and felt lumps on his head and swelling in his face. He thought there was tenderness in the ribs and Heath recoiled from his touch. He found the source of the wetness on Heath’s thigh, and figured it was a bullet or stab wound as there was no bone or anything else sticking through.

Nick covered Heath with his coat and began to hunt for wood to build a fire. He did not stray far and returned quickly to get the blaze going. He pulled Heath close to the fire, to stop his shivering. Once Heath was resting more comfortably, Nick wanted to get a better look at his brother’s wounds, now that there was light from the fire. Nick saw the marks left by a beating and knew Heath had been kicked continually even after he had gone down, and that the blood on his thigh had come from a bullet. Nick removed Heath’s wet clothes and began to try to dry and warm his brother. He planted sticks near the fire on which to dry the wet clothes.

The leg was swollen, red and hot. Nick had already assumed it to be the cause of Heath’s fever, although the cold and wetness would surely play a part. Heath’s breathing was shallow and probably had been for about two days. Nick could hear the congestion as liquids were building up in his lungs. Nick needed to get water for his brother.

Nick took his brother’s hands and began again to rub them gently, to bring back warmth and feeling. He then did the same with Heath’s feet. As blood began to circulate through the extremities that had been bound for such a long time, Heath began to stir. Nick spoke to his brother trying to bring him to awareness.

“Shhhhh Heath it’s me now. Can you open your eyes for me?” Nick held his brother tight against his chest holding Heath's arms against his body. “Shhhh, Heath don’t fret so much, you’re ok now. I got ya.”

Heath tried to escape his own limbs as sensation returned to them, initially as searing burning pain. He wanted the numbness to stay. His breathing became rapid and cries of pain escaped his lips. Nick could feel Heath’s heart start to pound. Nick was not sure whether he felt it or heard it beating as he held Heath tight. Protesting the pain and the arms that bound him, Heath started to open his eyes. He tried to focus through half open lids. Heath recognized the arms that held him. “Help me, hurts, please”

“I will Heath just hang on. We gotta get blood back into your hands and feet. I know it hurts Heath, just hang on.” Heath closed his eyes tight and clenched his teeth emitting painful sounds with every breath. Nick continued to rub Heath’s extremities until he seemed calmer, and his cries became whimpers. “I’m sorry Heath.” He told the beloved face he took in his hands, I’m sorry.” He took Heath into his arms and rocked him, until his breathing slowed and Heath fell asleep. “I’m so sorry.”

When Nick was sure Heath was asleep, he examined Heath’s leg more closely. The blood was mostly contained to the clotting in the open wound; the active bleeding had stopped on its own. Nick could see that Heath had lost quite a bit before his body could stop it. Nick cut the tail off his shirt and wrapped Heath’s leg with it.

“Thirsty, Nick.”

“Heath, you’re awake. You’re gonna be ok.” Nick had no water no blanket, nothing to offer. Sorry Heath I left my canteen with Coco a ways back. “So thirsty Nick.” Nick realized his brother had been almost two days without water and burning out what was in him with the fever. Could he leave Heath? Could he find Coco? Nick whistled hoping Coco was close enough to hear. He had no idea where he was, how close he was to the road or where he had left Coco. He had been wandering and got off track just listening to a small sound he could no longer remember.

“Never leave horse”

“I know, I know Heath.” Nick held him close again. “I couldn’t hear you with him clomping beside me, I had to listen.”

Heath snorted. “You listened”

“I found you didn’t I?”

Heath began to tremble and shake as a little of the moisture left in him leaked out his eyes. “I thought I was dead. Horses kept riding by.” Heath was having trouble getting enough air in his lungs as he expressed panic he had felt. “Nick. . .”

“Shhhh, it’s ok, I’m sorry Heath, Shhhh. Slow down, breathe deep.”

“Can’t Nick, tried to call out tried to move, nobody stopped, couldn’t breathe thought I was dying over and over.”

Nick sat up by the edge of the fire, pulled Heath close, and covered him with his coat to give him what warmth and security he could, as Heath tried to get enough air. “Calm down Heath.” Nick rocked him in his arms, terrified as his brother struggled to breathe. The air that had been denied him by the gag, was now denied him by the liquid gathering in his lungs. He had not been breathing properly since the beating, and the liquid was spawning disease inside of him. Heath slowly relaxed into his brother but the uneven breathing told Nick that Heath was not calm, and that his difficulties breathing would probably continue to get worse until he could get Heath to a doctor. Nick could feel his own heart beat fast and heavy. Both Nick and Heath were afraid they might wake and find this a dream. Nick continually had to remind Heath all night every time he would become more lucid that he was really there. For his part, Nick stayed awake all night worrying and trying to reassure his brother of his safety, and praying it was not a dream.

Heath became more confused as the night continued. Nick was not sure what he was going to be able to do. He knew they were near the road. Heath had been able to hear the riders. There was little to do tonight but whistle intermittently for Coco and hope the horse would find him. Nick kept the fire going strong all night and made sure that Heath was warm kept warm. Heath woke occasionally throughout the night wanting water and reassurance that Nick was still there. Nick had needed the night to address his blessings and hold the life he held so dear.

That very evening Bentell and his wife rode to Galt to spend the night in a hotel.

When morning came, Nick quickly found the road and oriented himself to his location. He decided he had left Coco a mile or so behind him, closer to the cabin he had built for Bentell. Nick had to get water for his brother and went back to the fire, broke it up, stirred the ashes and smothered them with earth he dug up from under the old oak leaves. Nick did not try to rouse Heath, he silently hoped Heath would not wake until he could get him water. Nick pulled Heath into a sitting position, knelt beside him and tried to ease his brother’s upper body over his shoulder in order to be able to carry him the distance ahead of them.

Nick could feel the temperature rising in his brother’s body. He also knew that his brother’s brow was dry as a desert stone. He was running out of time to get some water back into Heath’s body. Nick braced himself against a tree and stood, staggering briefly until he could find his balance bearing his brother’s weight on his shoulder. They began making their way down the road back towards the only shelter house that would have the precious liquid Heath’s body so desperately needed.

Nick was sure he had left Coco just a couple miles away from where he had found himself in the morning, but it seemed as if his trusted animal had disappeared. He knew he had covered more than enough ground to come upon Coco where he had left him. Coco was either roaming or had made his way back to the ranch. Either way Nick would have to make it on foot unless Coco would happen to show himself.

They had traveled miles and Heath had been trying to force out the congestion rattling fiercely in each breath. Nick was hoping he could continue walking with his cargo and that Heath would be able to dispel the phlegm on his own. He knew Heath was in a bad enough position, riding on his shoulder, given the condition of his ribs, but it was the only way to cover the ground needed to get to the cabin in time. It also seemed to help drain the congestion, which Heath was having trouble dispelling.

The effort to push the congestion out was only causing Heath to cough and choke. Nick knelt on the ground and slowly eased Heath into a sitting position. Nick was shaken by his brother’s paper like skin and bluish lips. He quickly turned Heath on his stomach on the ground and raised his middle until he could slip his knee underneath to support it. Nick began to clap on his brothers back hoping to help him dispel the sickly substance that was denying his brother the air he needed. Soon Heath was able to push enough of the stuff out of his lungs that Nick could tell his breathing was delivering more air to his system. Nick placed his brother back on his shoulder and continued toward the cabin.

The trip to the cabin took most of the day. The position of Heath’s body draped over Nick’s shoulder was helping to loosen the awful congestion that continued to rattle. Nick stopped and helped Heath cough whenever his breathing became too labored and Heath’s body tried feebly to expel the phlegm. Nick kept Heath’s head low and repositioned him until Heath could successfully clear his breathing passages. The chill in the air seemed to keep Heath from having to fight the heat Nick was sure to come. Nick walked on and pushed steadily forward knowing he would not be able to carry a body writhing with fever. It was well into the afternoon when they arrived at the cabin. Nick carried Heath in and laid him on the table just inside the door. He quickly got a glass and pumped some water into it. He went to Heath’s side slid his arm underneath Heath’s head and held the glass to his lips.

“I got some water for you Heath. I need you to drink it.” Heath was fairly well out of it by this time and did not really understand what was going on. Nick tried to pour a little water into Heath’s mouth but only got a coughing spell from Heath as a reward. Nick became more afraid and became stern. “Heath you need to wake up. Look at me. It’s me, Nick, your big brother”. Nothing. “HEATH.” Nick patted Heath’s cheek trying to force his brother to consciousness. He pulled him upright and shook him by the shoulders. Heath still refused to respond. Nick sat his brother up and leaned Heath’s head back on his shoulder. He took the glass in one hand and began to pour some liquid in his brother’s mouth as the other hand stroked his throat up and down making Heath swallow automatically. It worked slowly but it did seem to be working, Heath had managed to get the glass of water into his system.

Nick laid Heath back on the table, and stretched his limbs as he went back to the kitchen to fill the glass. This glass Nick emptied on his own. He poured himself another realizing how thirsty he was after almost a day without water. He looked at Heath lying on the table. His own awareness began to sharpen as he remembered the many concerns facing Heath in his recovery. Nick set a pot of water on to boil and filled a bowl with cold water. He found a pitcher to keep near his brother, as he would need to continue replenishing his brother’s fluids for many hours. The water was boiling and Nick put a sharp knife he found in the kitchen in the pot.

After getting another glass of water into his brother, Nick searched the closets and found towels and sheets for bandages. Nick was winding down and he was only beginning the care Heath would need. Nick went to the bedroom and pulled one of the beds out in front of the fire. He then carried Heath to the bed and got rid of his clothes. He then began cleaning Heath’s leg and prepared to take the bullet out. The wound was red and oozing clear liquid. The infection was getting worse. The fever was getting worse. Nick placed cool towels over his brother’s body, and across his forehead and eyes. Nick cleaned the leg as best he could and was staring at the wound he would have to cut open in order to find the bullet that was slowly poisoning his brother. Nick got Heath to drink more water, and then went looking for some whiskey he knew he had stocked for the cabin. It was to be a house-warming gift. Nick found the whiskey in the kitchen. He walked back to his young brothers side and knelt down, rolled together a piece of the sheet he was using for bandages and put it in Heath’s mouth so he would not bite through his tongue or lip. He picked up the knife and placed the tip about a half inch from the ugly hole.

As soon as the knife cut deep across the wound, Heath woke and tried to escape the new pain. Nick released the knife and fought to secure his patient. “Damn. I’m going to need to tie him down, or I’ll end up amputating his leg.” Nick did not want to tie his brother up, but it needed doing. Nick grabbed hold of his brother. “Heath, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to hurt you but I gotta get this bullet outta your leg. You awake little brother?” Nick took the roll of cloth from his brother’s mouth and held the face in his hands to make sure Heath would see him should he open his eyes. “It’s me your big brother Nick. I found you Heath you’re OK. You’re gonna be fine. I gotta tie you down so I won’t do any extra cutting on that leg of yours. You got a bullet in your leg and it needs to come out now.” Nick saw blue eyes begin to appear as Heath’s lids slowly opened. He took a wet cloth and pressed it against his brother’s face. “Hey Heath, you in there. Come on Heath, you can do it.” Heath’s eyes roamed the room worriedly. Nick leaned over the bed and put his face directly in front of his frightened brother. “Heath, Heath.” Heath tried to sit up. “Shhh, you’re going to be ok now. I just need to get that bullet out of your leg. If you lie still I’ll have it out in a jiffy. I just can’t have you moving around while I got a knife in your leg. Nick pushed Heath flat onto the bed and took his arm to tie it to the bed using strips of the sheet he had torn for bandages.

Heath awoke in a strange room. He couldn’t breathe and was being tied down as well. He searched for an escape. He felt a cool cloth against his head, he was so tired. Maybe he could rest. He tried to focus but his eyes did not want to cooperate. He heard a voice but could not make out the words. He tried to get closer to the voice when he was pushed down, and then he felt someone take hold of his arm. He opened his eyes to witness his arm about to be tied to the side of a bed. He pulled his arm away, only to have it caught up again and held down tightly to the bed. Heath gathered all his strength and pushed himself free from the bed and the man restraining him. “No.” was the only sound that found its way into the room. Heath ran for the door not giving in to the pain stabbing his right leg. He had the doorknob in his hand when he was tackled from behind. Heath wriggled desperately, trying to gain his freedom. He did not want to be tied down again. His strength was waning and defeat took hold of his heart. “Nick, help me.” He was being held tightly from behind, with his arms crossed helplessly on his chest. “Nick” Heath felt himself begin to float away from the room and into a safer place.

Nick dragged his quietly protesting brother back to the bed. Nick kept pressure on the arms he had crossed in front of his brother. He knew it hurt him but he needed to get him secured. The leg was bleeding from the first cut of his ill-conceived operation. He realized he should have tied him down to begin with. The bullet would probably be out by now if he had.

Nick could hardly bear to hear his brother’s quiet pleas. Nick moved one of Heath’s arms from across his chest to the edge of the bed. “Heath, you have to let me do this. I don’t want to hurt you.” Nick got up on the bed and used his knee to keep pressure on the arm still wrapped across his chest. Now that he could use both of his hands, he quickly tied Heath’s right arm to the bed. He heard a fragile sound and saw his brother force his eyes lids shut tightly and felt him make a very weak attempt to free himself.

Heath was exhausted from his escape. His face had turned gray. He was desperately trying to get enough air into his clogged lungs. Nick’s knee had made that even more difficult. Nick tied Heath’s legs at the ankles to the bed and placed pillows under Heath’s back. As the phlegm made its way toward the breathing canal, Heath attempted to cough it out. Nick gently pressed down on his brother’s turned face with one hand while gently clapping his chest with the other. Nick knew it was painful but his brother needed air. “That’s it brother, you’re doin good. Get it outta there. Keep coughing Heath.” Nick urged Heath on until he could hear clearer deeper breathing. Nick removed the pillows and wiped the sweat from Heath’s face and body with cool towels. He prepared himself to cut into his brother’s leg again. The cool water seemed to relax Heath. He was resting easy. Nick secured Heath’s bad leg above and below the wound. He did not want to accidentally cut into an artery.

Nicks hands were slippery with anxiety at what he was about to do. He spoke soothingly to his now more peaceful brother. He continued to cool his brother for a moment. “Hey Heath, it’s me Nick.” Nick saw movement under the eyelids. “Lie still Heath, you have a bullet in your leg. I’ve got you tied down right now but I swear Heath, I will get them off you the minute I’m done. Heath can you hear me”. Nick got Heath to drink a little water and a little whiskey. Heath seemed less terrified or at least less combative. Nick did not know if Heath could understand him, but he had to get this over with. He took three bullets out of his gun, and placed it by the bowl of water in case he needed more, uncapped the bullets and laid them next to the gun. He took a deep breathe and held the knife while thinking over his task. As he let out the air, he washed the knife in the now warm water. Nick cleaned up the new blood around the wound then cut deeper into the wound. New blood was flowing from it and Nick had not found the bullet.

Heath’s muscles tensed and he clenched his teeth when the knife cut the one in his thigh apart trying to locate the bullet. He could not move again, but he would not cry out and beg for the pain to stop. He knew that would only make things worse. He felt his flesh being ripped open again. The pain increased and he felt as if the bone in his leg was being sawed off. Heath’s breathing became rapid. He felt heart beating wildly, and no matter how many breaths he would take, he could not calm it. He felt nauseous.

Nick had found the bullet but it was stuck in the bone. He tried repeatedly to pry it out with the knife, but was not having any luck. He checked to see how Heath was holding up and his heart sank at the obvious pain he was causing. Nick knew Heath could lose his leg if he couldn’t get the bullet out soon. He could tell Heath was already going into shock from the pain, the bullet and the blood loss. Nick grabbed the blankets he had tossed from the bed and wrapped them around Heath, leaving only his injured leg exposed. Nick picked up the knife, this was it, he would trade the leg for his brother’s life. Nick drove the knife to the bone and used his strength instead of precision to get the bullet out of the bone. This time it came loose and he lifted it out.

Heath’s body convulsed as water and whiskey spewed from his mouth. Nick had barely been able to turn Heath’s head to the side. “I’m sorry Heath. Tears ran down his cheeks. He poured whiskey into the wide-open wound then emptied the bullets into it, and used a match to ignite the powder. Heath’s stomach heaved again as nausea over came him.

Nick was frantic. He untied his brother and bandaged his leg. He wrapped him in blankets and ran to get more. He built a fire and pulled the bed closer. Heath was barely breathing and his skin was now cold. His body was too weak to fight anymore. Nick reached under the covers and began to rub his arm. “Heath, fight. You’ve got to fight back.” He needed Heath to know he was safe. Nick felt if he could get through to his brother that he was right there, it would make a difference. “HEATH, WAKE UP YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP NOW. HEATH.” Nick saw Heath move his eyes and he could feel the arm he held tense. Nick took his hand and squeezed. “HEATH, WAKE UP. IT’S NICK.” Nick could feel fingers wrap around his own. “COME ON BROTHER YOU NEED TO WAKE UP.” Heath’s eyes slowly opened and tears ran out. Nick took his brother in his arms. “It’s me Heath. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you so. Please Heath, you have to fight now. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you, so you need to remember I’m here ok. You’re going to be all right.” Nick relaxed his brother in his arms so he could look at his face. Heath’s eyes were barely open. His face was still gray and empty.

Heath heard his brother calling and tried to find him. He tried to find the field but could not get through the thick fog. His leg was so painful he didn’t think he could make it to the field anyway. Nick was closer, yelling. He felt a hand in his. “It must be Nick.” He thought. He opened his eyes and saw his brothers face. He did not know why but he knew he was crying. He felt himself being pulled up by strong arms and warmed by the embrace. He could feel the embrace loosen and focused his eyes. “Nick?”

“Heath, do you hear me? Do you see me? Heath”

“Nick...find...me...again.”

“Yeah, I found you, Heath, I’m right here. I’m going to stay right here. You need to fight now Heath. You gotta stay awake for a bit. I know your leg hurts, and your ribs, but you gotta stay awake. I don’t want you getting lost anymore. OK?”

Heath kept Nick company off and on as he awoke throughout the rest of the day and on toward night. He was taking liquids and coughing productively. Nick explained the injuries he found and asked if there were more. Nick listened to Heath tell what happened to him. Heath told about the setup. He told how good it felt at the social have no memories, and then about Conners and Baker the beating and Bentell’s torment. Nick let him go over all of it. Nick helped him to cough, drink water, and cooled him down. All day Nick let Heath’s dreams and thoughts into his own and brought Heath back from his nightmares. Nick realized the real gift he was given was to help Heath heal from his past not his present.

The same morning that Nick carried Heath to shelter at the timber camp cabin and provided treatment for his wounds; Victoria, Jarrod and Audra woke to the day they had hoped and prayed would end their waiting with a joyful reunion. They arose to a feeling of relief, as if a weight had lifted. Heath's note said that he would be home that day. That morning, the Bentells were breakfasting in the hotel when they overheard a deputy talking to the day clerk about a search going on for the warden at Carterson. He thought the Barkleys might have alerted the law. Bentell learned there is a warrant out for his arrest. He was in part described as traveling with his wife. Matt Bentell put his wife on a train to Utah. He had some business to take care of.

Victoria and her two children waited, anticipating Heath’s return. They kept up light and expectant conversations all day. By supper, Victoria had retired to her bedroom. She felt lost to the fact that Heath was not back and Nick was missing as well. She hoped at least that they were together. Her heart simply could not bear the disappointment of another moment of waiting for something she had feared for days would not happen.

Jarrod rode into town shortly thereafter to report his missing brothers. He approached Sheriff Madden’s office as a group of men left with determination marking their faces. Fred Madden was just leaving his office in a hurry and nearly ran into Jarrod as they simultaneously tried the door. “Hello Jarrod, I’m glad you’re here.” Surprised, Fred motioned Jarrod into the office and waved him to a chair. “I was going to ride out to see you later this evening. After our talk at the social, I wired out to the timber operations you told me Bentell got up and running. I received interesting responses. It seems Bentell hired old prisoners, who were so far down on their luck that they asked for work from the man. At first he treated them right. Soon he would be treating them just like prisoners again. He had this thing about power over them. The only fatalities in his timber operations were his ex-prisoners at Carterson. The Sheriff in Walnut Grove thinks he can make a case for murder. Bentell gave the prisoners the dangerous jobs, and they’d do ‘em. If they didn’t die working, they had a freak accident. Only one of his prisoners survived his timber camps and he says he’s lucky to be alive. Says his accident was no accident. Sheriff Reed thinks he can prove it. He’s wired towns all across the state with Bentell’s description.”

“How can a man like that live with himself.” Jarrod thought in horror now that he had a connection that could explain Heath’s whereabouts.

“Maybe the only way to live without shame or guilt is to deny any wrong doing and live by those decisions. It's sort of a warped set of principles. Although, I have seen plenty of criminals who think they have the right to cheat, to lie, and even to kill. You’ve seen it often enough too, Jarrod. I’m just sorry Heath ever had to tangle with him. Where is the boy anyway? Has he gotten his memory back, if not you might want to keep him close?”

“That’s why I’m here Fred. Heath is not home. We haven’t seen him since the picnic, but he left a note. It was his handwriting. He was supposed to be back today. Nick is gone too. He went to look for him after the picnic, and never came back. We have tried not to worry and have waited all day. The note indicated he would be back today. ”

“I’ve told my men to check with the hotel and any guests that may have seen Bentell. I was going to go to Walnut Grove after stopping by your place. We just got a wire of a fellow fitting that description in Galt. That’s not to far from the town or your timber operation, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re right, Fred. It’s not far at all.”

“He might be trying to tie up loose ends.” Sherriff Fred Madden knew he had delivered bad news, yet there was nothing he could do about it. He was relieved that he delivered his information to Jarrod and not Victoria.

“Hang on Fred, I’ll go with you. I’ll tell Mother what is going on and get my gun. I’ll meet you on the road north.”

“I have to ride that way anyway. I’d just as soon see the note and talk to all of you before I head out. I need to know everything that happened and what Heath may have told you about the man”

The lawman and the lawyer rode to the Barkley ranch. Jarrod ran to his study, as soon as they entered the house. He grabbed his gun belt and coat. He shuffled the papers around on his desk as he had done for the past two days, unable to concentrate on work. He uncovered the note Heath had written, as well as his notepad. He had not given it much thought before as he expected Heath’s note to have been written on a piece of half torn paper. He saw that his notepad had been etched by someone with a heavy hand. He took a pencil and rubbed the lead across it. He returned to the hall with a worried expression. “Bentell has Heath. Maybe Nick too.” He showed Fred the rubbing on his notepad where Heath had forcefully and quickly, scrawled his note. “They went to the timber camp. I have to go there.”

“I’m going to Walnut Grove; wire me there if you find them. I’ll do the same.” Victoria came down the stairs with Audra. “Fred? I’m glad you are here, Fred. I’m afraid I have two missing children.” Her own words hit her hard. “Did Jarrod tell you?”

“Yes Victoria I’m afraid he has. I have some news and I’d like for both of you to sit down to hear it.”

“Fred, I’ll tell mother.” Jarrod saw such fear in her eyes he had trouble finding words. Victoria lowered herself into a chair and steeled herself against words she knew would hurt her. Jarrod showed Victoria and Audra the rubbing. Victoria gasped. “Mother, I’m going to the timber camp and Fred is going to Galt. He received a wire that Bentell may have been through there.”

“I’m going with you Jarrod. Fred, how did you know Bentell was behind this?”

“I didn’t Victoria. I didn’t know anything about your boys. I only just found out today about Bentell after I got a few wires from other timber operations. You’d never know anything was wrong unless you get a whole stack of reports.”

“What did you find out?”

“Victoria, there’s been a few deaths at his operations.”

“There are always a few deaths in that kind of work. Were there more deaths than usual?”

“No, not more, it’s just that everyone one of the fatalities was an ex-prisoner of his. One and only one is alive to say it wasn't an accident.”

Audra was frozen as tears pooled and fell from her eyes. Victoria took her hand in her own. When does the next train leave?”

“I’ll be on the late train north. “I can head out early to Walnut Grove from there.”

“Heath and maybe Nick are at the cabin Fred.”

“I don’t know that Victoria. All I know is that someone thinks they saw Bentell in Galt and there’s a witness that could prove he’s a murderer just fourteen miles away in Walnut Grove. We haven’t heard anything about your sons.”

“Mother we can ride the train with Fred to Galt and then go to the cabin ourselves.”

“I’m going too,” said Audra.

“We’ll all go. We’ll get a wagon there.”

Victoria and Audra gathered food, blankets, lanterns and medical supplies they might need, if they found the missing brothers and quickly packed them for transit. Victoria found her daughter starring at a neatly organized pile of gear they prepared for the trip. If the Sheriff’s information was right, Bentell was a very dangerous man.

The train was scheduled to leave Stockton at 4:10 A.M. and arrive in Galt at 5:40. They Barkleys tried to sleep a bit before going to the station. The train was running a bit slow and they arrived in Galt as the sun was coming up. They had 15 miles of rough road yet to travel.

...Continued