The ride to Pine Crest with the injured man in the back of the wagon had been brutal on the three family members with him. The jarring of the wagon on his broken leg sent shock waves of pain through the limb, moans and screams resulting from the movements, twisted and churned the stomachs of his three caretakers.

Blood loss and pain were taking it’s toll on his battered body. Fever started in him, his breathing sounded wrong, it was forced and his mumbling was giving the worried three a glimpse into a past, it’s owner would have preferred to leave buried.

Heath’s body finally succumbed to the collapse it had been fighting. His mumbling silenced, moans or screams no longer left his lips. Only the harshness of his breathing was heard over the rattling of the chains and the plodding of the horse’s hooves. The absence of sound from Heath became more nerve wracking and tormenting than his moans or screams of pain.

Rachel and Jarrod checked continually to ensure he was breathing, Nick stepped up the pace of the horses once it became clear that Heath wasn’t feeling pain from the jostling.

Nick’s dark thoughts took over his mind as he drove. Tears sprang to his eyes, remembering the instinctive kick he handed his brother, which sent him off the edge of the tunnel. Guilt hovered and encircled him knowing he was responsible for the additional injuries.

His mind went back over Heath’s last visit to Stockton. Sitting on Lookout Peak after working all day together, Nick asked a question that had been bothering him for quite a while.

“Heath?”

Heath, laying on the ground, his hands entwined behind his head, lifted his hat and opened one eye to look at his older brother. “Yeah, Nick?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, I might even answer it.” smirked Heath, seeing the sarcastic retort was lost on the other man.

“I, uh, well, I was wondering why you did it?” asked Nick hesitantly.

Puzzled, Heath sat up and gave Nick his full attention, “I’m not sure.”

“Oh.” replied Nick, his face deep in thought.

Grinning slightly, Heath stated, “Course, if you elaborate on what I did, I might be able to answer the question better.”

Nick took a shaky breath and stated. “I was wondering why when you left, uh, the first time, well, you came to Stockton to get what you were entitled to. But you left without having Jarrod set anything up so you get your share. You turned your back on your share.”

Thinking on the question, Heath took out his makings and rolled a cigarette. Accepting a light from Nick, he stared at the falling ball of orange in the sky and gathered his thoughts.

“I did come with the sole purpose of collecting what was mine. Your family had everything and I had nothin’ growing up. I figured I was entitled to what, our father, built up.”

Shaking his head, Nick frowned, “You should’ve been here growing up.”

“Nick, sometimes things are best left in the past.” said Heath quietly, his thoughts drifting for a minute before he reined them back to the present.

“Anyways, ya’ll were different than I thought you’d be. I expected a family of rich people looking down their noses at everyone. It confused me when you weren’t like that, I never expected it.”

Staring at the end of the cigarette, Heath laughed, “Boy howdy, I didn’t know what to make of the family. I didn’t know what I was gonna do. I had this big chip on my shoulder and a right to what was mine but something in my gut told me, I could have so much more than money.”

“So much more? Do you mean living and working on the ranch with us?” inquired Nick surprised at the admission his quiet brother was sharing.

“Yeah. Money’s never been that important to me. Sure I wished I’ve had some from time to time, but you can’t miss what you didn’t have. That night when you came to the bunkhouse to get me, I’d made the decision to stay and work as a regular ranch hand. Nick, why’d you think I worked for the railroad?”

Turning crimson, Nick said sheepishly, “The only things you seem to have of value and worth anything were your horse and guns. Since your guns seemed to be well taken care of, I thought you were a hired killer.”

Smashing the end of his cigarette into the ground, Heath glanced into the hazel eyes, looked away and shrugged, “They’ve come in handy a time or two.”

Cocking his head sideways at the remark, Nick stifled the urge to ask Heath to explain what he meant.

“Well, anyways, I left cause I couldn’t subject your Mother and Audra to all the fights and yelling anymore. It wasn’t fair to them and I, uh, was having nightmares for the first time in a long while. I didn’t care about the money and knew we wouldn’t be able to work together. Nick, if I’d known how things were going to be in the beginning, I’d never have come.” admitted Heath with a deep sigh.

“Well, I’m glad you did, little brother.” smiled Nick widely, clapping him on the back.

Smirking, Heath nodded and stood up, “Course, I also left to protect your ego.”

“What are you talking about? Protect my ego!” stated Nick, his face squished up in confusion.

Untying Charger’s reins, Heath jumped in the saddle, “I couldn’t keep beating you up in front of the hands and the family! I had to leave you some pride.”

Blustering, Nick started towards Charger and yelled, “YOU DIDN’T BEAT ME UP! NOT ALL THE TIME!”

Laughing loudly, Heath let Charger have full rein while Nick and Coco galloped after him towards the main house.

Wiping the tears in his eyes, Nick’s heart was pounding as Pine Crest came into view and he sent a silent plea to his unconscious brother.

‘Heath, we’ve come so far these past months. Don’t leave me, little brother.’

Rachel shook her head, indicating now was not the time, at the twin glare of accusations directed her way from the blue and hazel eyes. Their glimpsing of the telltale signs of whippings and bullet scars on the back of their little brother, shaking them to the core of their very souls.

Dr. Martin sensing the temperature drop in the room between the occupants, stated loudly, “If you can’t focus on Heath and what we need to do for him, leave.”

The sharp words drew the brothers’ focus back to the young man laying on the bed, fighting for breaths, struggling against a low fever.

“John, he’s really fighting for his breaths.” worried Rachel using a wet cloth to wipe her nephew’s face.

“Jarrod, grab some pillows out of the next room.” ordered the physician listening to the congestion forming in Heath’s lungs. Shaking his head in dismay. “How long was he in the hole?”

“I guess it was about an hour before we got him outside of it.” whispered Nick.

Seeing the extra pillows, Nick pulled Heath up to his chest and laid him back down after Jarrod arranged the pillows. The incline of his upper body seeming to ease his struggle slightly.

“Hope, we need to make a steam tent.”

Pushing on Heath’s stomach, the doctor frowned at the boot mark and felt the ribs move under his touch. Using a candle, he opened one eyelid and checked the pupils, repeating his examination by following the same method on the other.

Taking thread and needle, he stitched the cut and wrapped a clean bandage around it.

Entering with a sheet, Hope helped her father create a tent over the bed. Sitting the boiling pot on the bedside table, Hope assisted her father to seal the edges to keep the steam inside.

Gesturing to the others, Dr. Martin walked into the external room and waited for them to sit before taking a deep breath.

“His broken leg right now is the least of Heath’s worries. It’s a clean break. Once we plaster it, he should have no problems after it heals. His cut on his head was deep but thankfully you were able to get the bleeding to stop. He does have fifteen stitches and a nice bump. He has a mild concussion which’ll give him one hell of a headache when he wakes up.”

Pausing, Dr. Martin hesitated and cleared his throat. “I’ll keep a close eye on the bruise to his stomach. Sometimes, these types of injuries can cause internal bleeding. I don’t see any indications of that, I’m just being cautious.”

Groaning, Nick leaned forward and covered his face with his hands. The pace of the guilt eating away at him increased from the doctor’s words. “I didn’t mean to kick him.”

“It’s not your fault. Heath would’ve killed you, Nick.” stated Rachel firmly. Jarrod looked at her in shock, realizing she truly believed what she just stated.

“How can you sound so sure of that?” asked Jarrod.

“It’s true, Jarrod. Heath was somewhere else in his mind when he was going after Nick. He didn’t know it was Nick. He thought it was the enemy.” explained Rachel quietly.

Grabbing onto her hand, Nick asked gently, “Where was he, Miss Caulfield? What place causes him so much terror?”

John nodded at her questioning glance. “They’ll find out anyway when we talk about Heath’s lungs.”

“Heath was back in Carterson Prison. He was there towards the end of the war.”

Nick stared at Heath’s aunt in disbelief, color draining from the tanned face from the images the name of the prison evoked. Jarrod, having done the mental math, felt as though he were going to be sick. His little brother was in that hellhole when he was just a kid. The whispered words of anguish clearly heard, “My god, he was only a boy.”

Both brothers stunned, the words from Rachel hanging in the air of the room. Dr. Martin cleared his throat and continued.

“Unfortunately, from my experience with your brother, he’s very susceptible to chest colds and infections which attack the lungs. Mainly from his carceration during the war and the abuse his body suffered. The bad air in closed mines is very dangerous for someone prone to lung problems. I think, also, Heath inhaled the dust which would’ve been floating in the air while he was unconscious after the earthquake. Add to this, a couple broken ribs and we have one mighty sick man on our hands.”

“Heath’s gonna be okay?” asked Nick, his voice quivering uncontrollably. “He’s not gonna die, is he?”

“Not on my shift, he isn’t Nick. Not if I can help it.” stated the physician firmly before leaving the room.

“Dammit Heath, look at me!” growled Nick wanting to get scale the wall the weak man was erecting, wanting to disappear the look of shame in Heath’s eyes, angered when the blonde’s head turned away and looked at the opposite wall.

“Tired, Nick.” said Heath knowing his lack of response would irritate and anger his older brother, but not really caring at this point, the exhaustion setting in, overshadowing anything he may want or yearn for.

His body having fought off the fever, felt weak as a new born kitten. His chest still hurt from the pneumonia that almost killed him, his ribs now bound tightly, felt immensely better. His leg laying on a pillow was encased in a cast of plaster. His head would be free of the stitches in a few days.

“Heath.”

“Nick, leave your brother alone.” stated Victoria walking into the room, crossing over and sitting on the bed. She smiled gently at Heath and brushed the bangs off his forehead, relieved at the lack of fever. His face pale, strained from the battle he had waged and won.

In the throes of the feverish days and nights, he could remember small snatches of things.

He could remember Dr. Martin scolding him for trying to get out of bed.
He could remember Jarrod and Nick urging him to stay with them.
He could remember Mrs. Barkley and Audra crying when they arrived.
He could remember Aunt Rachel telling him to be strong and fight.
He could remember Mrs. Barkley telling how much she loved him.

They were all there, day in and day out, talking and urging, yelling and shouting. Talking about the future, questioning the past, living and fighting the moment with him.

With him.

With him, by his side, holding his hand, wiping his fevered brow, helping him deal with the pain and keeping him from passing through death’s door.

He was not alone anymore.

He felt it in his delirium, in his fevered nightmares, in brief moments of lucidity, in his very soul.

He was surrounded by love. That feeling alone gave him the resolve and strength to make his way back.

He was surrounded by love. That feeling that had been missing from his life for so long.

He was surrounded by love. That feeling was what he had been looking for.

Then, with waking and clarity came the awful realization, they knew about Carterson.

The part of his life which held shame, guilt and remorse for him.
The part of his life which he wasn’t sure would ever fully leave him.
The part of his life which had the power to make the now grown man shake in terror, eight years later.

Looking over at Nick, Victoria said firmly, “Nick, why don’t you have some lunch and see if there’s a wire from the family?”

Catching the look in her eye, Nick swallowed the protest rising in his throat. Ruffling the blond hair, he sighed, “Yes, Mother. Heath, I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Okay.” whispered Heath his voice belaying his exhaustion.

Hearing the door close, Victoria squeezed the hand closest to her then caressed his cheek, “I see you didn’t finish your broth, Heath.”

“I’m not all that hungry, ma’am.” replied Heath stifling a yawn, the touch of her hand on his cheek sending warmth through him.

Closing his eyes, he could remember his mother’s touch on his cheek. Mrs. Barkley’s was the same. A smile graced his exhausted features and Victoria wondered silently about it.

His face relaxed into sleep, his breathing free from gasps and congestion, floated to her ears like music on a summer’s breeze.

Leaning forward, she kissed his forehead. “I love you as if you were my son, Heath. When you’re stronger we’re going to have a talk about that.”

Nick sat in the chair, his head resting against the wall, eyes staring at the pattern in the ceiling. His mind unconsciously keeping alert for the even breathing of his brother’s sleep to change. Gaining strength with each passing day, Heath was slowly making his way back to the physically strong man he was before his plunge into the abandoned mine shaft.

The earthquake seemed to have opened a torrent of memories long suppressed within his little brother. The memories overwhelming him, the terror in his eyes ripping out the heart of his older brother, the shame in the sky blue eyes angering Nick.

Angry at Heath’s mother for denying the family the chance to know Heath during his childhood.
Angry at Father for not taking responsibility to return to Strawberry and check on Heath’s mother.
Angry at Heath’s relatives for the abuse they willing handed out to a child.
Angry at those who would let a mere child enter the war of brothers.
Angry at those who sanctioned the treatment delivered in Carterson.
Angry at himself for not knowing how to dissolve the terror in Heath’s eyes after waking.

A frown creased his handsome face remembering the rough treatment he had handed Heath, from the moment he heard the words, trembling and cracking the pedestal his father was standing on.

“Your father’s bastard son.”

Those words were forever burned in his memory.
Those words were forever seared in his heart.
Those words had forever altered his world and made it better.
Those words had forever given him a brother.

The frown changed to a wide smile, his countenance changing at thoughts of the little brother who came to them as a man. Protectiveness rose up within him as his eyes fell upon his sleeping brother.

A brother whose passion for ranching matched his own.
A brother whose passion for family matched his own.
A brother whose passion for those he held in his heart matched his own.
A brother who was forever connected to him, bound by blood, bound by a father, bound by love.

Realizing the sky blue eyes were staring at him from the bed, Nick was startled from his thoughts.

Grinning, he leaned forward in his chair, delighted to see the lop-sided grin that was flashed back at him.

“Nick, ain’t ya got a ranch to run?” teased Heath grateful for the strong hands which quickly helped him up to a sitting position against the headboard.

“How bout you come to Stockton and be my partner on the ranch, little brother?” asked Nick, hazel eyes alit with hope.

Heath turned his eyes away from the hazel eyes that were beseeching him. Staring at the wall, he slowly gathered his emotions, knowing what this man, his brother, was asking of him.

This man who’d become so important to him.
This man who’d willingly sacrificed his nights to help fight his little brother’s inner demons.
This man who’d share all he had with another brother.
This man who was asking for a partner to run an empire.
This man who was asking one brother to another.

Nick held his breath when Heath pulled his eyes away from his. Looking at the head, cocked slightly sideways deep in thought, he was struck by the similarity to his father. He hadn’t noticed before.

Heath turned towards Nick, his fingers scratching the stubble on his face, his voice hesitant and quiet.

“Okay, Nick.”

Since the death of his mother, things had been changing for Heath Thomson.
Things were changing because of the two words he hesitantly spoke to his brother.
Things were changing because he was changing.

As with all things in life, change is inevitable. Change occurs in one’s environment, in one’s world, inside oneself. Change can be rapid as a blink of an eye or it can be slow as watching a tree grow with the naked eye. You either see it or you don’t.

Change was caused by events, circumstances and consequences. These three things, whether accidental or deliberate, by his hand or by the hands of others - they all worked together, shifting, molding and changing things in his world, in his environment, in himself.

His world had become richer by his arrival into the valley where the Barkley ranch resided. At the time of his initial arrival, he would not have considered himself richer by any means. Monetarily, emotionally or otherwise.

The battles he endured with his new brother, unknown to him, were the events which started the chain of circumstances which would lead him to this point.

The circumstance of his leaving behind all the name Barkley meant was the circumstance and Nick questioning how one could do that, the consequence. This act by Heath was accidental, yet it caused a change with far reaching consequences into the future, unseen by the naked eye.

Who would have thought that one event would have started the joining of the futures of Heath Thomson and Nick Barkley?
Who would have thought that one event would have been the tiny grain of sand on which the base for their brotherhood had started?
Who would have thought that one event would take them on an emotional journey together as brothers?
Who would have thought that? Certainly not Heath.

The deliberate act of Jake Matson, the shooting of Nick and the consequence of Heath suddenly realizing how much the possible death of Nick would affect him. This act by the hands of another was deliberate, but was the first act which bound him to his brother in a way Heath would never have imagined possible.

Heath was never a person to place large hopes on the word ‘if’. Never a person to place much thought into things such as kismet, karma or fate. Heath was a person who dealt with the world he saw through his eyes, heard with his ears, felt with his hands and experienced himself. He was a person who used his senses without conscience thought in the daily routine of life.

Things had changed. Heath was placing his hopes for the future in the return to Stockton and working with his brother on the ranch.

Sitting on the porch of Aunt Rachel’s small house in the setting sun, his casted leg propped on the rail, he smiled remembering the night they spent together before Nick left Pine Crest with his mother.

“When are you coming to Stockton?” asked Nick. “You are still coming, right?”

“Nick, I told ya’ about ten times already!” gruffed Heath. “I’ll be there in a month.”

Turning crimson, Nick replied, “Guess I’m a little anxious. Sorry.”

“After we work together all day for a while again, we’ll see how anxious ya’ still are.” smirked Heath with a triumphant smile. “Gin.”

Throwing his cards down in disgust, Nick growled, “If I wanna beat you, I’m gonna have to get in some practice before you come home.”

Picking up the cards and shuffling, Nick’s hands stilled as his ears heard Heath say quietly, “Home?“

Heath’s heart skipped a beat from the hope that single word caused. The word rolling on his tongue as if it were foreign, wondering if the Barkley ranch would ever be home to him.

“Heath?” asked Nick spying the far away look in the blue eyes.

“Sorry.” blushed Heath realizing he had spoken the word aloud.

Placing the cards on the table, Nick leaned forward, “You got nothing to be sorry for. I know the ranch may not seem like home to you, Heath. We just need to take it one day at a time. It’ll work out, you’ll see.”

“Okay, Nick. One day at a time.” sighed Heath picking up the deck, blue eyes flashing mischievously as he asked, “Poker?”

Nick rubbed his hands in anticipation and sneered, “This’ll be like taking candy from a baby! Deal!”

Heath winked and picked up the cards. Nick catching the wink, watched the deft fingers working the cards like he had seen on the riverboats, looked into the sparkling blue eyes and said sarcastically, “For pete’s sake! Let’s play Go Fish!”

Heath dealt the cards for Go Fish and laughed loudly when Nick rolled his eyes, “Oh great! Just what I need, a funny brother!”

The windows of the cabin were dark, the porch no longer decorated with chairs and flower boxes. The desired contents within the small cabin had been removed since the owner’s departure. All that was left, were items that had no special value to Rachel. Together, Heath and Rachel cleared Hannah’s cabin also. Personal momentos of the small woman they held firmly in their hearts, divided equally while they shared stories, laughter and tears.

Leaning against Charger, his smile gentle, his heart filling with sadness and happiness at his thoughts. Heath had been honored to escort his aunt down the aisle in the courthouse to marry Dr. John Martin last week. Hope was her bridesmaid, Sheriff Jonas Moreland the best man and Heath was the witness. He had never seen his aunt more radiant than she was on her wedding day.

He was happy she had found someone to share her future with, someone to share her dreams. The two made a perfect couple and complimented each other in so many ways.

A sadness overshadowed his happiness for his aunt. Sadness from the reality, the last member of his small family growing up was gone. Rachel was starting a new life and so was he. Both were anxious and excited, both were nervous and hopeful.

Tightening the girth, Heath looked over at the small cabin one last time. The time had come for him to step on the path of his next challenge in life. Climbing on Charger, he nudged the bay forward in a westerly direction.

The rope of the pack horse tied to his saddle horn, the ropes of four horses tied to the packhorse. These were the best of the horses he had captured in these mountains. Everything he owned was either on the packhorse or in his saddlebags.

Stopping at the edge of town, he stared straight ahead and fought the urge to look back.

‘Don’t do it. No looking back from now on.’ thought Heath nudging Charger forward down the road, stopping for the night after the sun began to set in the western sky.

Rising early the next morning, Heath shrugged into his slicker and mounted. Drops of rain fell, darkening the ground with its moisture, darkening the coats of the horses. The rain was steady throughout the morning, dampening everything except his desire to reach the Barkley ranch.

The boundary of the ranch came into view through the sheet of rain. His stomach became a bundle of nerves when he rode into the yard. Stopping in front of the mansion, he dismounted and tied the reins to the hitching post.

Walking up the steps, he looked into the hazel eyes and took the extended hand in a firm grip.

“You’re a day late!” grumbled Nick with a smile clapping Heath on the shoulder with his free hand.

“Boy howdy, guess it’s better than being a dollar short, Nick, like ya’ was the last time we played cards.” retorted Heath, his blue eyes beholding a look of innocence.

Laughing loudly, Nick grinned. “Right you are, little brother. Let’s get these ponies bedded down.”

Flashing a lop-sided grin, Heath nodded and walked beside Nick to the barn while Victoria watched from the window, praying this would be a sight she would see for many years to come.

Two months passed quickly to Heath who found himself becoming more unsure of his decision to return to the Barkley ranch. Watching the sunrise over the valley from the edge of the ranch yard, he wondered if today would be different.

Since coming to the ranch, he’d been welcomed back into the family by Mrs. Barkley and his siblings. He was getting to know the family members and strengthening his bond with each of them everyday. If he had not returned to the ranch, he would have missed this wonderful opportunity.

Nick treated him as a brother, but not as a partner in the running of the ranch. Suggestions, ideas, orders provided by Heath were not considered or thrown to the side, discarded as one would simply toss away an apple core.

Nick, having run the ranch for six years since the death of their father, seemed to be unwilling to allow anyone to share the load or responsibility. From the time Nick was small and sat on his Father’s knee, his path in life had been laid out for him. He had matured into adulthood working the ranch, stepping in naturally when his Father was struck down. To him, he was doing what he was supposed to do and didn’t understand Heath’s annoyance or concerns.

In the eyes of some of the ranch crew, Heath was just another brother of the boss who worked on the ranch. Their benign treatment of him caused by his brother’s seeming lack of trust to rely on Heath and give him a set of the reins.

Conversations with Nick hadn’t helped, neither had the shouting matches they recently engaged in or the throwing of fists. Working with Nick each day was proving to be more of a chore than a pleasure.

Sighing deeply, he shook his head and entered the barn. Saddling Charger, he walked the bay over to the house and tied him to the hitching post. Opening the back door, he stopped at the sight of Victoria seated at the table.

“Good morning, Heath.” smiled Victoria rising, setting breakfast and coffee on the table for him.

“Morning, Mrs. Barkley.” replied Heath sitting in the chair. “I didn’t realize anyone else was up.”

“It was such a beautiful sunrise, I couldn’t let it’s glory pass without honoring it.” explained Victoria quietly.

“Sunrise is my favorite time of the day.” admitted Heath with a small smile. “Watching the sunrise is good for the soul. It’s sorta like a cleansing.”

Nodding in agreement, Victoria joined Heath in breakfast. Conversation centering mostly around the upcoming fund raiser for the orphanage Audra was working diligently on.

“Heath, what are your plans for today?” asked Victoria her question an innocent one which hid the real reason it was asked.

Putting his cup on the table, Heath frowned, “I’m gonna check the north fence line.”

“You’re not helping Nick get ready for the trial drive?”

“Nick don’t need any help.” retorted Heath, blushing from the harshness of the words. “I, uh, mean he knows what he needs to do to get ready, Mrs. Barkley.”

Victoria inwardly sighed. She had sensed something was amiss between the two. Her intuition was right. It appeared Nick was finding it difficult to loosen his hold on running the entire ranch. Heath’s blue eyes had betrayed him with the pain and confusion she had seen in them over the last weeks.

“Have you been on trail drives before?”

“About ten.” replied Heath shaking his head in amusement. “A trail drive is hard work. You never know about the conditions of the trail, how the men will hold up, what the weather is gonna be like or if you’ll be alive at the end of it. Every time I finish one, I’d say never again! But each year, I’d do it again without even a second thought.”

Putting a small hand on his, Victoria looked into the sky blue eyes and asked, “Heath, are you having second thoughts about being here on the ranch?”

Sucking in his breath at the directness of her question, he stared into the gray eyes of the woman he dearly wanted to call Mother, but couldn’t bring himself to in the time he had been here.

This woman had offered him the world of the Barkley family.
This woman had welcomed him into the family without hesitating.
This woman had given him her love freely and without reservation.
This woman had been there offering him comfort when he needed it.
This woman he knew he was about to hurt with his words.

“Yes, I am.”

....Continued