The hour and a half it took for Doc Merar to reach the house seemed like a year to Nick. Silas had heard the commotion as the men banged open the massive front door and crossed the foyer to carry Heath upstairs.

"Mr. Nick, what happened?" Silas knew it was bad, Heath's shirt and pants were darkened with blood and the look on Nick's face sent the old servant rushing up the stairs ahead of the men to open the bedroom door.

The men gently laid Heath on top of the bed and Nick and Mike started removing the torn clothing as carefully as they could without causing more harm.

Nick eased the shirt off his brothers shoulder and barked out orders, "Silas, go start getting bandages together and boil some water, Doc's on his way." He glanced up to see the old black servant staring at Heath, worry lines creasing his forehead as each piece of clothing was peeled away, revealing another injury. His tone gentled and he repeated quietly, "Silas, go get the bandages and bring Doc up when he gets here."

Silas gave a nod and left the room. As he made his way down the back stairs to the kitchen, he stopped and said a silent prayer that Heath would be all right. He had come to care so much for the quiet young man. He shook his grey head and chastised himself aloud as he put water on the stove to boil, "Mr. Heath'll be fine, y'all seen him worse off than this. No sense borrowin' trouble, no sir, doc'll get here and fix that boy up just as good as new, yes sir..."

He continued to mumble to himself for the next hour until the sound of a knock sent him rushing to the front door to let Doctor Merar in and lead him up the stairs to Heath's room.

Howard Merar's tall, stoop shouldered frame stopped in the bedroom doorway for a moment as he observed the scene before him. There were three dusty cowboys lined up near the bedroom window clutching equally dusty hats. Nick was seated on the bed holding a blood-stained cloth to his brother's forehead and Silas had slipped in to take up a post near the footboard. The doctor saw at a glance that Heath was in rough shape and he plunked his medical bag down on the round marble table that held Heath's family pictures and started handing out orders.

"All right, you three out," he waved his hand at the cowboys as he undid the clasp on his bag. "There's no room in here for everyone. Silas take them downstairs and give them coffee or something and I'll be needing some hot water and clean towels in a few minutes."

One stern look from the faded blue eyes in the old man's face was enough to stop any thoughts the men might have had of arguing with him. He pulled his stethoscope from his bag and turned to touch Nick on the shoulder, "Nick, where's your mother?"

Nick had been sitting for the past hour and a half waiting for the doctor and trying to staunch the flow of blood from Heath's forehead and he looked up at him blankly as though he hadn't known he was there. He didn't answer and Doctor Merar shook his tense shoulder.

"NICK," he said more forcefully, "WHERE'S YOUR MOTHER?"

Silas stopped on his way out the door and answered when Nick gave no sign that he understood the question.

"Mrs. Barkley went into town with Miss Audra and Mr. Jarrod, they won't be back till late."

The doctor gestured at Nick to get up off the bed and, as he took his place, he said to the waiting servant, "have someone go to town and bring her home."

Silas's eyes opened wide and he hurried to the kitchen where he delivered the message to the three men sitting at the kitchen table sipping the coffee they had found warming on the back of the stove.

They stood immediately and headed for the back door, "we'll all go, any thing's better than sitting here waiting."

Silas poured steaming water into a basin and armed with a handful of towels made his way back upstairs. Nick had moved off the bed to stand gripping the brass footboard as Doc Merar pulled down the sheet covering Heath's upper body. He placed the stethoscope on the bare chest and listened carefully before gently feeling his way over the bruised rib cage.

As he worked his way down he turned his head slightly to glance at the abnormally quiet man behind him. "How did this happen Nick?" he made a tsking sound at what his probing fingers found.

Nick swallowed hard and answered in a strained voice that was barely above a whisper, "he was trampled by a herd of mustangs we were breaking."

The doctor nodded as he pressed lightly on Heath's abdomen and made a satisfied sound, "that explains the jagged cuts, shod horses don't leave marks like this," he pulled the sheet the rest of the way down to check the source of the blood on the sheet covering Heath's legs.

In the back of Nick's mind he was glad their mother wasn't here. Even though he was still unconscious, Heath would have been mortified to have her in the room when he was in his all together.

Again came the tsking sound as the doctor examined a deep gash above Heath's knee. The cut had finally stopped bleeding but the amount of blood on the sheet told him that, between this and the head wound he would need a transfusion.

"He's going to need blood when we're done Nick, ok?"

Nick's knuckles were white from the tight grip he had on the brass rail and he let go to rake an unsteady hand through the dark hair that had fallen across his forehead. "Anything doc, anything, just make him be all right. He has to be all right."

"I'll do my best Nick, but..."

Silas entered the room and set the water on the night table where the doctor could reach it easily. He hovered, hands clasped together, ready to give any assistance needed. Doctor Merar reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of alcohol, a needle and thread. As he washed his hands, a low moan signaled him his patient was regaining consciousness. He had hoped Heath would stay out till he was finished sewing up the cuts on his face and leg. Such was not to be the case however and he didn't know if there were any internal injuries so he couldn't risk giving him laudanum. The drug might mask the pain enough that he'd miss something vital and he knew he couldn't give him chloroform neither, he was having enough trouble breathing as it was. The chloroform might just slow his breathing so much he wouldn't be able to come out of it. They'd just have to make do, hopefully he would pass out again and make it easier on everyone.

The blue eyes opened a crack as the doctor pushed the sheet over a bit, leaving Heath's right leg exposed.

"Nick..." The name was breathed out in a feeble plea as the pain filled eyes searched the room frantically.

Doctor Merar leaned forward and pushed the heavy lids open to check the pupils, "good, no sign of concussion," he nodded his white thatched head briskly and took Heath's chin in his hand to draw the wandering blue gaze back to him.

Nick moved to sit on the other side of the bed where Heath could see him as the doctor explained to the dazed young man what he was going to do.

"I'm going to clean and stitch your leg first, Heath. I can't give you anything for the pain, so it's going to hurt...a lot." He picked up a small cloth from the table and gave it to Nick. "Have him bite on this, and I'll need you to hold him down. I can't have him thrashing around when I start to stitch." He looked at the rugged face closely, "can you do that or do you want to get one of the hands?"

Nick took the cloth and nodded, "I can do it," he laid his hand on Heath's bare arm and looked into his pain filled blue eyes, "he's my brother." A simple statement, but it contained everything he felt for this man, his brother.

"All right then. Silas you tie his legs to the bedposts, then when I tell you, hold his leg as still as you can."

The elderly black man tore a towel into long strips, wrapped them around Heaths ankles, then tied them snugly to the brass posts.

"Nick, I want you to lay across his stomach. It's not hard to the touch so I don't think there's any internal bleeding there, but stay away from his ribs, there's at least three broken."

Nick shifted sideways to lean a bit of his weight across Heath's stomach, facing him, one hand on each side of the bed. "Like this?"

"That's the way, now we can either tie his wrists to the bed posts so he can't move, or you can hold them."

A vision of Heath tied to the whipping post at Risley's prison came to him with startling clarity...never again.

"I'll hold them."

"He's going to fight you, so have a good hold. I don't want him pushing those ribs through his lungs. I'll wrap them when I get done with this."

Nick nodded and reached forward to put the cloth between Heath's teeth. "Open your mouth Heath."

"Nick..." The weak voice was barely audible.

"It'll be all right Heath, I'm right here. Now come on, open your mouth." Nick's soothing tone calmed his brother and he slipped the cloth in when the jaw opened. He took a wrist in each hand, lifted Heath's forearms and bent them back as he pressed the hands firmly into the pillow on each side of his brother's head.

The doctor brought the straight-backed chair from the desk in the corner and pulled it up closeto the edge of the bed so he could work on the leg more easily. "All right, lets' get started."

He nodded at Silas to take a firm hold of the shin and ankle as he prepared to start. Nick looked over his shoulder to see if the doctor was ready and his eyes opened wide when he saw what he was about to do. His voice came out in a low growl, "no...don't."

Howard returned the steely look, "I have to Nick, it's filthy, I've got to clean it or it'll get infected and he's got enough problems already without that."

Nick's mouth tightened into a hard line and he turned back to look into the trusting eyes watching him and took a firmer hold on each wrist. Silas held on to the lower leg and pushed down as hard as he could to hold it still.

"Aggggggghhhhhhh," Heath's back arched and he threw his head back with a scream that was muffled by the cloth in his mouth. The chords in his neck stood out in sharp relief as the doctor poured alcohol into the open wound.

Nick could feel the broken ribs grating together and put more of his weight across his brother's stomach to try and keep him still. The muscles in Heath's shoulders and biceps knotted and bulged as he tried to pull his wrists from Nick's grip.

Sweat beaded on Nick's forehead as he used all his strength to hold his brother down. He knew Heath was incredibly strong but had thought he'd be too weak from his injury's to put up much of a fight. He held the wrists in a crushing hold and pressed them into the pillow harder as Heath's hands balled into fists and the blond head thrashed from side to side.

He leaned forward a bit and murmured soothingly, "shhhhh ... shhhhhh ... shhhhh, it's almost over ... shhhhh now... take it easy ... shhhhh ... I'm here."

After what seemed like hours, the taunt body started to relax and Nick loosened his hold a bit to glance back to see the doctor had finished cleaning the wound and was wiping the leg and preparing to stitch the ugly gash.

Satisfied that the worst was over, Nick turned back to look at his brother and whispered, "aw, Heath."

A single tear slipped out of the corner of Heath's tightly closed eye's to drop onto the pillow and a tightness welled up in Nick's chest as he bent over to gently lay his forehead against his brother's, never letting go of the bruised wrists he still held against the pillow.

Mike, Jesse and Slim had ridden hard all the way to Stockton in search of Mrs. Barkley. They headed for Jarrod's office first in the hope that he would know her whereabouts without them having to search the whole town. It had just gone five o'clock when they rode up to find him preparing to mount his horse and head home.

"Mr. Barkley," Mike panted as he pulled to a stop beside the lawyer.

Jarrod looked up in surprise to see the three Barkley ranch hands in town at this time of day.

"What is it, Mike?" his voice was sharp with worry.

"Do you know where your mother is?"

"She and Audra went out to the Anderson Ranch for a visit, what's wrong?" He knew something had happened, they wouldn't have come looking for his mother without good reason.

"It's Heath."

His heart slammed against his ribs, "what happened? Is he all right?"

Mike lifted his shoulders and shook his head, "it happened so fast Mr. Barkley, he couldn't get out of the way..."

"MIKE, what happened?" The steely blue eyes demanded an answer.

"He was trampled by those mustangs, doc's there now..."

"Why didn't someone come and get me when they came for the doctor?"

"Steve and Rory looked for ya, but ya weren't in your office and they had no idea where ya'd be."

Jarrod stared at Mike for a moment as he tried to think. He had to get his mother, but at the same time he wanted to get home and find out how bad the situation was. From the look on the three men's faces, he knew it wasn't good. It would take about an hour and a half for him to ride out to the Anderson's and return to the ranch, he didn't know if he had the time.

He made his decision, "All right. Jesse, you and Slim go out to the Anderson's and get my mother. Don't tell her what happened, just say she's needed at home. Mike and I will head back to the ranch."

"Yes sir." The two cowboys reined their horses around sharply and headed west to the ranch situated six miles out.

Jarrod stuffed his satchel in his saddlebags, jerked Jingo's reins free of the hitching post and quickly mounted the chestnut gelding.

"Let's go." he said as Mike fell into step beside him and they made their way east down the busy street and out of town.

Jarrod had been home for over two hours when Silas, who had been keeping watch, ran upstairs to inform him that his mothers' buggy was coming down the lane.

The oldest Barkley son was halfway down the stairs when the front door burst open and his mother and sister hurried across the foyer., the expression on their faces telling him they had found out what had happened.

As the tiny silver-haired woman started up the stairs, he reached out to grasp her arms and hold her still. "Wait Mother, don't go up there yet, the doctor's still working on him."

"I need to see my son." She made to pull away from him and he gripped her arms more tightly. Audra stood to the side, waiting hesitantly, her face pale and her blue eyes full of fear.

He tried again to reason with her, "Mother..."

Victoria's eyes flashed a warning and she looked up into her son's eyes and said in a tone that would brook no argument, "LET ME PAST."

Jarrod stared into the determined grey eyes then dropped his hands to his sides and moved out of her way as she lifted her skirts and hurried up the steps.

Audra made to follow until Jarrod's hand stayed her movement, "Audra, let the doctor finish first, all right? It won't help to have too many people up there right now." He put his arm around her shoulders to lead her to the living room and settle her on the sofa beside him.

Her head rested on his chest and the tears started to fall, "Oh Jarrod, I'm so scared ... do you think he'll be all right?"

He rubbed her arm in a comforting gesture then put his finger under her chin to tilt her head up and look into her tear wet eyes, "hey now little sister, you've seen Heath in some bad situations before and he's always come out on top, this time will be no different."

"But..."

"No but's, he'll be fine, now let's go make some tea while we wait, ok?" They got up and made their way to the kitchen. Neither really wanted the tea, they just needed something to occupy the time while they waited for word.

Victoria hesitated in the doorway to Heath's bedroom for a moment, her hand pressed to her mouth as she took in the scene before her.

Nick was just rolling down the sleeve of his grey shirt as Doctor Merar gently eased the needle out of Heath's arm and wrapped a bandage around it. Fortunately the young man had passed out again part way through the tedious task of stitching his leg much to Howards relief. Silas smoothed the clean sheets they had put on the bed and gathered up the blood-stained ones they had removed. A small gasp alerted them to Victoria's presence and she crossed the floor quickly and came to sit gently on the bed.

She lifted her sons hand and pressed it to her cheek, her eyes full of tears, "oh Heath."

Silas finished cleaning up and quietly left the room and Nick came around the end of the bed and laid his hand on her shoulder. He looked at the doctor helplessly, not knowing what to say, or how to comfort her.

Dr. Merar decided it was time for him to take charge of the situation. He pulled a chair around in front of the distraught woman, picked up the small hand that lay in her lap and started to speak, his voice calm and controlled as he started to explain what was happening.

"Victoria, I know it looks bad, and I'm not going to lie to you and say it isn't, but he's young and strong." He squeezed her hand gently, "he's a fighter, you know that."

She tore her gaze away from the face of this son she loved so much and choked out, "how bad?" Nick's fingers tightened on her shoulder for a moment before he walked around to sit on the other side of the bed again.

Howard let out a small sigh, "he's been unconscious for the last two hours and he's lost a lot of blood, we just gave him a transfusion and hopefully it'll help. He's got three broken ribs, a bad gash on his leg and head and more bruises than I can count."

He paused for a moment before continuing, "I'm worried about internal injuries and there's no way to tell about that. We'll just have to wait and see. If he starts throwing up blood ..." he spread his hands in a helpless gesture.

"When will you know?" Nick asked the question his mother was afraid to voice.

Merar glanced across the bed at him. His dark hair was falling over his forehead and his face was pale beneath the tan as his fingers kept smoothing the crisp cotton sheet across his brother's bandaged chest.

"The next forty-eight hours will be critical," the doctor tightened his hold on the small hand in his, "if he's still with us," he lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug, "then I think he'll make it."

Victoria turned back to look at her son, he was so still, the white bandage covering the cut above his left eye standing out in stark relief against his tanned skin. His eye had already turned black and a large bruise covered most of his cheek. Another deep bruise wended it's way from his left shoulder and across the fur matted chest to disappear beneath the binding that wrapped his ribs.

"Isn't there anything else we can do?" Victoria's voice came out thin and unsteady and she tried to pull herself together - her son needed her, she had to be strong.

"I want you to take Nick downstairs and get him something to eat and drink," Howard pulled his pocket watch out and checked the time. "It's close to seven, he's been up here for over four hours and he needs something after giving blood." He returned the watch to his pocket and held up his hand as the tiny woman opened her mouth to protest, "I'll stay with him, the rest of your family is waiting for word, now take Nick and go downstairs."

Nick patted Heath's arm and got up to come around and help his mother to her feet. "You'll be staying the night?" The question came out as a statement.

"Of course. Can you have someone send a message to my wife?"

"I'll send one of the hands right away. Call us if he wakes up." Nick's voice had deepened with weariness.

Victoria reached down to run her fingers through her sons blond hair and across his right cheek before Nick steered her towards the bedroom door.

She turned before leaving and said in a distracted voice, "I'll have Silas make up the guest room and prepare you a meal, we'll be back up shortly."

Merar stopped them before they left, "I want all of you to get some rest tonight, we can take turns sitting with him. I'm going to prop him up with pillows so it's easier for him to breath, there's always a danger of pneumonia with broken ribs. When he wakes up, we have to get him to take deep breaths to try and keep his lungs clear. Now, if I'm not here and he starts to run a fever or anything else, call me. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"All right then, go talk to your family now." Howard dismissed them, sat in the chair beside the bed and picked up Heath's wrist to take his pulse as the door closed quietly behind him.

....Continued