Reaching the bottom of the trail, the three riders let out a collective sigh of relief when their descent was unhindered by anyone or in any way.

Stopping their horses, Jarrod refilled the canteens in the stream while Jonas knelt by the travois. Jonas’ eyes flickered once over the face of his friend before he glanced up, towards the protective bear hovering on the other side of the travois. Nick smiled slightly and nodded before limping away to the stream where Jarrod knelt.

Picking up the right hand of his friend, Jonas leaned over, “Heath, I can’t think of a finer man I’d rather have for a friend. You keep fighting and I’ll be there when you open your eyes.”

Glancing at the pale face, Jonas reached up and wiped the sweat away with a shake of his head, “No matter what that no account uncle of yours put in your head Heath, mark my words. You’re a Barkley as much as your brothers are!”

Squeezing the hand one last time, he stood up and pulled the blanket up further on the bruised chest. The gasping for air by his friend sent a sliver of fear into him. Jonas knew the gasps, he was familiar with the signs and he was worried. Saying his good-byes to the two brothers, Jonas mounted and headed back up the mountain.

Nick and Jarrod carried the canteens back to the travois. Nick gently lifted the blonde head trying to coax some of the precious fluid into his brother, his efforts getting no more than a teaspoon full into the fiercely sweating man. Frustration flowed through the strong man and he grimaced slightly from the fist he hit against his wounded leg.

“Nick, you best not start yourself bleeding again.” warned Jarrod calmly. “Remember, a small amount of water is better than no water at all.”

Biting back the angry words which almost spewed from his mouth, Nick clenched his jaw and nodded instead. He knew his older brother wasn’t who he was angry with, however, he was the only person in the near radius who was cognizant enough to understand the words he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs.

Running his hand through his hair, Nick took a deep breath and sighed, “Let’s get moving.”

Jarrod mounted after Nick painfully climbed into the saddle. The blue eyes saw the pallor beneath the tan and knew the wound must be hurting like the devil.

Nick lead the way towards Pine Crest, his eyes watching the area around them, wishing he could get Matt Simmons in his sights for a second, enough time to rid his little brother of one of his nightmares. His mind kept asking questions, repeating themselves in his head as he rode.

What happened during those six days?
Was the doubt only due to his feverish state?
Couldn’t his little brother see he was a Barkley?
Why would he think he was anything other than a Barkley?
Would the man he couldn’t think of other than as a brother leave because of the doubt?

The scowl on Nick’s face deepened and he shook his head, trying to overcome the fear which suddenly constricted his chest. Nick may have been surprised to find the same questions and fears were flowing throughout the eldest Barkley son whose eyes kept falling onto the still brother who lay on the travois ahead of him.

Jonas rode back up the trail, rifle in hand as he backtracked the horse Hatch Thames rode with Heath. He’d heard of the wanted Hatch and knew of his reputation. He was a hard man but not hardened, not immune to human decency. Though he was a criminal, he’d never been accused of cruelty to another.

Jonas knew where ever Hatch Thames was, his friend Red Bowles wouldn’t be far behind. The two were inseparable and watched each other’s backs. Red had followed his boyhood friend down the same path in life.

The sun was lower in the sky when the sheriff found the camp of the bank robbers. Watching the location for a half hour, Jonas left his hidden post and walked around the perimeter of the camp.

Red lay on the ground, his pistol in the dirt inches from his stretched out arm. He was riddled with bullet holes. On the other side of the encampment lay another man.

Studying the man who bled to death from two bullets to his gut, Jonas surmised he fit the description of Boyd Baker. No waste of life there, he thought grimly. Baker was a man without compassion for anyone, even women and children.

Satisfaction reflected in Jonas’ eyes at the realization of the slow death Boyd had suffered. Casting about, he found tracks of another horse leaving the area on the other side. Kneeling, he studied the earth darkened with spots of blood and smiled slightly.

‘Good shot, Red’ thought Jonas with admiration. The signs in the campsite and the wound to Hatch’s back telling him the story without the need of words.

Grabbing the two horses grazing nearby, he tied them to a tree and undid the bedrolls. Wrapping the criminals in the blankets, the sheriff lashed them into the saddle. Standing in front of the mine entrance, Jonas lit a lantern and entered the dark hole. His eyes turned cold at the ropes which lay by the post and the smell of vomit in the area.

‘Jesus, what a heartless sonofabitch that Simmons is.’ whispered Jonas outloud, his stomach tightening at the blackness of mines and tunnels he knew could send his young friend quivering to his knees.

Leaving the mine, the sheriff looked around one last time before leaving the mountain with the two dead men. Pushing the horses, he reached Pine Crest shortly after eight. Waking up the undertaker, he handed over the business and headed up the street to the doctor’s office.

Opening the door, Jonas was nearly knocked into the street by Jarrod who ran into the returning sheriff. Grabbing Jonas by the arm, Jarrod apologized as he steadied the lawman.

“Sorry, Jonas. Dr. Martin needs some ice for Heath’s fever.” explained Jarrod, his words firing off as fast as a gatlin gun in his worried face.

“I’ll help ya’” stated Jonas leading Jarrod down the street to the ice house. “I thought the doc and Mrs. Martin were in Nevada.”

Grabbing chunks of ice, the two hurried back through the dark streets. Jarrod quietly informed the puzzled sheriff of the return of the Martins due to a wire sent by Hope when the men left for Strawberry.

“Good thinking on Hope’s part.” admitted Jarrod opening the door to the office. “It’ll be good to have Heath’s aunt there with him.”

Nodding, Jonas followed Jarrod’s steps into the examination room where the physician took the ice and broke it into several pieces. Placing them in strategic places around the sheet clothed blonde, hoping the ice would do what the sponge baths hadn’t.

Rachel directed Jarrod and Jonas to the next room. Entering, Nick was in the process of getting his pants back on.

“Don’t you knock!” growled Nick buckling his belt.

“Sorry, Nick.” sighed Jarrod. “What’d Dr. Martin say?”

Turning red, Nick snorted, “I didn’t see him yet.”

Jarrod snapped, “Then why are you getting dressed! That wound needs to be looked after, Nick. I can’t have you getting an infection and getting worse. We already have Heath to worry about, I don’t want you sick too!”

“For pete’s sake, Pappy!” shouted Nick. “Miss Martin took care of it! OKAY?”

The anger seeped out of Jarrod and he stared at the crimson faced man, a smile turned the corner of his lips up, “Miss Martin, huh?”

Glaring at his brother, Nick turned and spoke to the sheriff. “Jonas, you find him?”

“No, but I did bring in two of the others. From what I can see, Red Bowles held off Simmons and the other one, Boyd Baker, while Hatch Thames escaped with Heath. That’s how Hatch was shot in the back. Red killed Boyd and wounded Simmons before he was killed himself.” explained Jonas quietly and then frowning.

“Dammit, his uncle could still be alive.” growled Nick.

“Boys, they kept Heath tied to a post in a mine.” whispered Jonas. “As far as I can tell, there was no light for him.”

Two sets of eyes held the same look of anguish at the darkness their little brother’d been subjected to. The terror he must have felt brought tears and twisted their hearts.

Nick stalked out and entered the next room, walking to the bed and grabbing Heath’s right hand. The others watched the tall man wipe his eyes and call into his brother’s ear.

“I won’t leave you in the dark, Heath. I promise.”

The crying of tears from the eyes of a woman could signify a variety of emotions. Pain, love, happiness, sadness, grief. So many emotions could be the reason for tears.

The crying of tears from the eyes of a woman was also a release of the various emotions. Emotions which took over a woman at a particular time.

There are times in a woman’s life when not even tears can release the emotion of pain.

Such as it was when Victoria and Audra Barkley arrived in Pine Crest two days later. After greeting her two exhausted sons, they were lead into the room where Heath lay fighting and winning, a small step at a time.

Audra cried tears of sadness for all her brother had gone through. His fever reduced slightly, his body weak, his mind still trapped somewhere else in his feverish state.

Victoria’s hand shook when she stepped to the bedside of her blonde son, his breaths still coming in gasps. His handsome face at this moment was a patchwork of colors. Colors signifying the horrid treatment one person handed to another.

Running her fingers slightly through his wet hair, she bit her lip to stop from crying out. A small hand squeezed her shoulder and her gray eyes looked into Rachel Martin’s brown ones, reflecting understanding and compassion.

“Our Heath’s a fighter, Mrs. Barkley.” assured Rachel.

Squeezing the hand on her shoulder, Victoria smiled softly, “I know, Mrs. Martin. I wish he didn’t have to fight so hard again. Heath doesn’t deserve such treatment nor does anyone else in this world.”

Rachel smiled sadly, “I know, I wish that also. His strength will see him through.”

Leaning over, Victoria placed a tender kiss on the sizzling forehead and caressed his bruised cheek. Her voice quivered with emotion interwoven with a mother’s firmness. “Heath Barkley, you will open your eyes and you will continue to fight.”

Rachel gasped when her unconscious nephew’s head turned towards the mother’s voice he heard in his ear. Everyone in the room saw the immense struggle he underwent to try to heed the spoken words, the firm order from his mother.

His head turned from side to side from where he was propped up with pillows to alleviate his breathing, his complexion turned paler, his hands clenched the sheet with a white knuckled grip and his moans followed the shuddering movements of his body.

Nick’s hazel eyes brimmed with tears and his knees weakened slightly. Jarrod grabbed his rocky brother and led him to a chair at the side of the bed, reminding himself to scold the exhausted man later for not heeding the doctor’s orders of rest.

Dr. Martin and Hope took their positions on both sides of the bed ready for the effects of consciousness.

Everyone in the room held their breath when they spied the slow opening of an eyelid. The dazed eye rolled around in its socket, it’s owner sucked in his breath at a bolt of pain assaulting him, his sharp intake of air causing a fit of coughing to occur.

The physician held Heath up, a pillow cradling his ribs while Hope pounded on his back. With each solid hit between the shoulder blades, Nick flinched physically at the necessary pain inflicted to remove the buildup of phlegm in the lungs weakened from years of abuse, driven on by the infection.

The exercise over, John wiped the drenched forehead and laid Heath back onto the pillows. Hope replaced the chunks of melting ice with bigger ones and smiled when the dazed sky blue eye looked upon her.

“Hey, cousin.” welcomed Hope with a wide smile at the recognition which flashed in Heath’s eye before it moved around the room at the other faces.

The effort to even move an eye had Heath moaning in pain. The blue orb widened in shock when it fell upon Nick’s pale face. The whiteness in the tanned face frightened Heath and he fought to speak.

The words no more than a whisper, forced out at great expense. “Nick..needs…bed.”

All eyes turned towards the chair housing the tall man and Hope’s eyes flashed at his pallor. Wiping Heath’s face, Hope put herself in his line of vision. “Don’t worry, Heath. We’ll take care of your stubborn brother.”

The corner of Heath’s lip turned up slightly at the loud protest from the other man which was quickly silenced by Victoria’s admonishment. Heath’s gaze took in his aunt and the blue orb’s expression turned to confusion.

Rachel stared at the lost look in the eye staring past everyone in the room. Heath’s body started to shake uncontrollably, his mind locked in a memory. Nick pushed Hope out of the way, sat on the bed and grabbed the trembling shoulders, his loud voice calling out.

“HEATH! HEATH!”

“Dark…no…light” gasped Heath caught in the memory. “I…Nick…Nick!”

Two strong hands turned the bruised face towards him, the hazel eyes bored into the blue orb, lost in time.

Nick’s frantic shouts matched the frantic gasps, “I’m here, boy! Look at me, Heath!”

The shaking stopped and the blue eye filled with tears, the whisper cut through everyone in the room before Heath passed out into his brother’s arms.

“Not...Barkley”

Tears fell freely from the hazel eyes while he held the blonde to his chest and stroked the drenched hair, his promise bringing tears to all around.

“You are a Barkley, Heath! I’m gonna prove it to you!”

Sheriff Moreland led a group of men into the mountains and on the trail of the wounded Matt Simmons. After several days, they were unable to find Simmons alive or signs of his dead body. The group rode to Strawberry questioned Heath’s aunt and thoroughly searched the town but ended up empty handed.

Returning to Pine Crest, a wanted poster was printed and distributed by mail to the other lawmen throughout California and the neighboring states. Everyone was concerned at the freedom Matt Simmons enjoyed but the matter was out of their hands. Their efforts were concentrated on the injured man left behind from the ordeal.

A cycle of caring for the injured, weakened man was established, the regiment strictly followed to ensure the return of Heath to full health. The regiment helped the blonde’s body to heal, but the emotional damage, the doubt, the uncertainty couldn’t be dispelled in this manner.

The seed of doubt planted in the blonde grew, the roots taking hold and the doubt festering in his confused mind while he lay in his fevered state of existence.

When the fever broke, Heath’s body drifted into a deep healing sleep. His family took a breath and braced itself for the backlash the doubt created.

Dr. Martin firmly stated until Heath was stronger, no conversation would be held regarding his doubt as to who his father was. The Barkleys protested but their words were ceased by the physician’s concern over his patient and the turmoil the conversation would create in Heath’s already weakened state.

“Heath doesn’t need more to deal with right now, Mrs. Barkley. Talk with him, let him know you love him but hold off the conversation for now.” stated John quietly.

“He needs to rest and we all know Heath won’t rest if he knows any of you are upset. Right now, his body is weak and forcing him to rest. Rest is the best thing for him.”

The others nodded at the physician words knowing how true they were. Agreeing, the family would hold true to their word no matter how difficult it may be to do so. Nick had grudgingly given his agreement and all knew the man of action only did so out of his concern for his little brother.

“Once that boy is stronger, he and I are gonna talk.” growled Nick firmly before leaving the room, his tone an indication of the inner torment he was undergoing.

Days later, Audra sat by Heath’s bedside holding a magazine. Her mind not on the articles about the latest fashion, her eyes not seeing the pictures of the dresses for sale. Her mind concerned over the pain in her mother’s eyes, the anger in Nick’s, the disheartened look in Gene’s and the fear in Jarrod’s.

Sighing, Audra frowned at the turn of events no one would have ever foreseen. Her own sapphire eyes held guilt at the actions she’d accused Heath of before he left on the ill fated trip.

“Your face could freeze like that, Audra.” grinned Heath, his blue eyes clear and affectionate.

Audra’s face lit up while she sat on the edge of the bed. Placing a kiss on the yellowed bruised cheek, she held a glass of water to his lips. Taking several sips, Heath smiled his appreciation.

“How are you feeling?” asked Audra straightening the blanket which lay across his chest, her movements belaying her nervousness.

“I’m okay.” sighed Heath, grinning at the rolling eyes. “Where’s everyone?”

“Mother’s resting. Jarrod and Nick went back to Stockton to take care of some things on the ranch. They’ll be back in a couple days. Gene left for school four days ago.”

Surprise flew across Heath’s face, “Gene was here?”

“He could only get away for two days. He didn’t want to go back but Mother made him.” stated Audra.

“Sorry, I missed him.” replied Heath sadly, his words causing Audra to chuckle.

“What?” inquired Heath suspiciously at the glittering blue eyes.

Audra giggled uncontrollably. “Heath, you didn’t miss him. In fact, you were quite happy to see him.”

“I don’t know if I want to hear this.” groaned Heath, almost afraid to ask what caused the sparkle of amusement in her eyes. “What happened?”

“Gene leaned over and you grabbed him. You were speaking in spanish. We didn’t understand the words but the tone of your voice was quite, well, amorous.”

Heath’s face burned with red as Audra’s teasing continued. His embarrassment clearly showing in his eyes.

“Boy howdy, what’d Gene do?”

“After the initial shock, he calmly removed your arm from his neck and patted your cheek. Then he said, ‘Heath, I didn’t know you knew spanish, however, now is not the time for such things.’”

Heath rubbed his hand over his face. “Oh, lordy.”

The amusement faded from Audra’s eyes, replaced slowly with guilt as she took hold of the large hand and squeezed.

“Heath, I want you to know how sorry I am.” stammered Audra, her eyes spilling out tears.

Reaching up, Heath brushed the tears from the silky cheeks. “For what, Audra?”

“For what I said to you before you left. What I thought you’d done. I know you’re not capable of doing such a thing. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Audra, there’s nothing to forgive. Don’t cry.” pleaded Heath pulling the crying woman into his arms. “It was just a misunderstanding. Everything’s fine now.”

Pushing herself out of his arms, Audra’s hand wiped at her tears and she shook her blonde mane furiously, “Everything’s not fine. It’s all such a horrible mess and I don’t think it’ll ever be fine again. I’m sorry, Heath.”

Audra rushed out of the room, Heath’s calls to her went unanswered. Swinging his panted legs over the edge of the bed, he set his feet on the wood floor. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his ribs, he pushed upwards and took four shaky steps before falling to his knees, furious at the weakness in him.

“Heath!” exclaimed Rachel rushing to his side and grabbing his arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The blue eyes flickered with quickly changing emotions. Anger, confusion, guilt, anguish. Heath’s voice broke and he bit back a sob of anguish, the questions spilling out.

“Was Tom Barkley was my father? Did I just assume he was my father cause of that newspaper clipping in mama’s bible? Maybe she just admired the man for all he did in the valley and didn’t know him at all. I gotta know, Aunt Rachel. It’s killing me inside! I can’t stand the pain it’s causing!”

Holding her distraught nephew in her arms, Rachel placed a kiss on the shaking man’s hair. “I’m sorry Heath. I wish I could say I’ve known since you were born Tom Barkley was your father, but I can’t.”

Finally gaining control, Heath sat on the floor and looked at his aunt, “Could it be Charlie Sawyer?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. He was married to your mother, but we all thought he had died when the river flooded.” explained Rachel brushing his bangs off his forehead.

“I can’t remember exactly when, but I think he came back right before Leah found out she was pregnant. If I knew for certain, it’d be the answer to all your questions.”

“I keep going over everything in my mind and I feel as if I’m missing something. It’s on the fringes of my memories.” whispered Heath with a shake of his blonde head. “If only she’d told me in words, I wouldn’t be doubting what I want so much to be true.”

“I wish that too, Heath. Your mama had her reasons and we will never know those reasons.”

Sighing loudly, Heath asked, “What do I call them? Nick? Jarrod? Audra? Gene? Mrs. Barkley? What?”

Entering the room, Victoria knelt beside the two on the floor, her hands took Heath’s face and she smiled, “Mother is a title which thrills me each time you say it, Heath.”

“But, I may not have the right.” whispered Heath, his clear blue eyes tormented.

The gray eyes sparked with anger and Victoria said firmly, “No matter what we find out or don’t find out, Heath. You are my son! I don’t need proof to know that which is in my heart!”

Wrapping her arms around him, Victoria felt his arms tighten, his body was quivering with emotion.

She knew he was a man of honor.
She knew he was a man of integrity.
She knew he was a man who wouldn’t take a name that wasn’t his.
She knew he was a man who had captured all their hearts.
She knew the answer he was seeking may end up ripping all of them to shreds.
She knew this and she knew he would always be her fourth son, no matter what the future held.

“DAMMIT!” shouted Nick angrily, turning and hitting the fireplace mantle with his clenched fists. “WHAT THE HELL ARE WE GONNA DO NOW?”

Jarrod waited until Nick grabbed the mantle in both hands and took several deep shaky breaths. Walking over, he stood behind his brother and put his hands on the tense broad shoulders.

“Nick, it’s not hopeless.” stated Jarrod quietly. “There’s always a way.”

A negative shake of the dark head was his only answer, the other’s voice non-existent from the emotions strangling him.

“We’ll ride to Strawberry to see if there’s any old timers left around there.” suggested Jarrod. “They may remember when Charlie Sawyer came back to life. They could possibly remember the exact time frame. We can speak to Heath’s other aunt. All we need to verify is when Charlie Sawyer actually returned to Strawberry.”

“I can’t lose him, Jarrod. I can’t.” whispered Nick. “I thought when we got the birth certificate...”

Nick stopped, unable to finish with his thought, a frown creased Jarrod’s face and he sighed, “I know, Nick. I was hoping Heath’s mother had listed Father’s name on it. I wasn’t prepared for that section to be left blank either.”

Nick pushed away from the fireplace and walked over to pour a drink. Handing a whiskey to his brother, the two sat in the parlor lost in thought.

Jarrod sipped his drink and cast a glance over towards Nick. His concern for his two brothers was overshadowing everything else. Nick was struggling with the pain Heath had been subject to, his fear of losing a brother and the lack of proof he had promised his brother he’d find to bring him out of his darkness.

Nick’s anger at Matt Simmons had gone way past boiling over to the murderous rage point. If Heath’s uncle showed up at this moment, he’d be a dead man and Jarrod knew he wouldn’t be able to stop his brother from committing the act.

Jarrod, himself was frustrated and scared. If they didn’t find proof, Heath’d leave. This whole thing was ripping them apart and they hadn’t even broached the subject of how to let Heath know he’d shot Nick. Everything was such a mess and there didn’t seem to be a way to clear it up for everyone involved.

Jarrod mentally chastised himself. ‘A big fancy lawyer and I can’t come up with a way to close this open wound and answer my younger brothers’ questions.’

“It’s all my fault, Nick.” suggested Jarrod softly.

“What is?” puzzled Nick, glancing over to the eldest son.

“When Heath arrived, I wanted to have him investigated. If I had, all this wouldn’t be in doubt now. I should have followed my lawyer instincts.” sighed Jarrod, laying his head back against the soft fabric of the chair.

Nick snorted, “I remember Mother’s reaction when you made that suggestion, Pappy. I think I can still see her footprint on your behind.”

Chuckling, Jarrod nodded, “I’m not the only one who felt Mother’s wrath at that time, Nick. If I remember correctly, you did too.”

A smile flashed across Nick’s face, “If I listen, I can hear Heath’s voice claiming who he was after we fought in the barn. Remember how he broke that bottle in the study! His eyes were wild that night! I swear you can see his soul when you look in those damn eyes of his.”

“Well, I couldn’t believe it when he put the money I offered him in the scotch. Here was this man who didn’t have anything and he was shoving the money back in our faces!” smiled Jarrod, his eyes filled with admiration. “Then he flashes his lop-sided grin at us and salutes before he leaves! Boy, he was cocky!”

“And he was so full of rage those days. After he left the first time, I couldn’t figure out why he did it. How come he was going to give up everything that came with being a Barkley.” whispered Nick with a shake of his head. “It took us a long time to get to where we are.”

“If you’d told me that first day how much I’d end up needing him now, I’d have said you’re crazy!” admitted Nick sadly, wiping the moisture appearing in his eyes. “It only took Simmons six days to undo everything we worked so hard for! There’s gotta be a way to find out, Jarrod.”

Clearing his throat, Silas waited until the two men looked at him in surprise, unaware he was in the room with them.

“I’s heard Mr. Heath when he ta fever talkin’ bout his mama’s puttin’ som’thing in her secret box. He mighta knowed it durin’ ta fever but not when he’s well.” suggested Silas quietly. “Sometimes folks minds recollect durin’ fever what theys forgot o’her times.”

Looking over at Nick, Jarrod asked, “Heath, ever mention his mama’s secret box to you?”

“No, never.” replied Nick, his hazel eyes lighting up with hope. “Guess that’s a good question to ask when we talk to our little brother day after tomorrow.”

Standing, both brothers took turns wrapping their arms around their old friend and thanking him for the hope he offered.

Silas waved off the thanks, smiled and said quietly, “Mr. Heath’s a good boy and a good friend.”

....Continued