Herb looked at Jarrod and decided to be a little more aggressive. It was a slow news month. Maybe he could get a story from this visiting attorney.

“Has Mr. Henderson mentioned anything about the silver that was supposedly found there?”

“Silver?”

“Yes sir. Not sure how much, but silver for sure.”

“The owner of your local mercantile store…” Jarrod paced.

“Clem Forrester.”

“Mr. Forrester, yes, that’s him.” Jarrod continued. “He told me that a few people tried to find silver up by the river, but were unsuccessful.”

“Well, that’s the official story. You see Mr. Barkley, Sam Henderson was the one that supposedly found the silver about three years ago. It was meant to be a secret, but this is a small town, you know? He actually hired those men to make their prospecting look unsuccessful.” By the look on the lawyer’s face, Herb knew he was on the right track.

“You have me intrigued, sir. Please go on.” Jarrod’s heart was beating fast. Was this the key to finding out who took Heath, and why?

“Some years back, when Sam Henderson’s grandfather settled here, there was a lot of talk of silver strikes. Heck, anybody who was everybody seemed to migrate from the east with the visions of gold and silver in their eyes.” Herb paused and studied his guest.

“The land that Sam’s grandfather bought is the land that Sam now owns. His grandfather, and his father, tried unsuccessfully to buy adjacent acreage, including the land by the river, since then. But the government refused to sell.”

“Why is that?” None of this was making any sense. Why would the government allow the squatters to buy the land and not Henderson?

Herb looked up at Jarrod, walked around to his desk, and sat down. He placed his arms on this desk and leaned forward.

“It all has to do with a woman named Elizabeth Chase.”

“That name sounds familiar.”

“It should. She was the highest paid prostitute in California history.”

Jarrod nodded. He remembered hearing of this famous “lady.” “Go on.”

“Well, Sam’s grandfather, Patrick Henderson, was married to his wife for, oh, about 15 years, when she died in a flu epidemic. They lost one child during that time, too, I believe. Altogether, they had seven children, Sam’s father, Frank, being one of the oldest.”

Herb took a breath. “Patrick Henderson wanted to get remarried after a time and started soliciting for a new bride.” He looked at the lawyer, who seemed to be lost in thought. “What he got was Elizabeth Chase.”

Jarrod indicated for the editor to continue. He pulled out his little notebook and started to take some notes.

“Elizabeth Chase saw dollar bills when she met Patrick and sunk her claws in. They were married a short time later.”

“And this has to do with the land?” Jarrod was already having trouble seeing the connection.

“Well, Miss Chase was the daughter of the State Senator to California at the time, who disapproved of her marriage vehemently. You see, Patrick Henderson also started campaigning for a position in the state legislature, and Miss Chase’s reputation was well known amongst the constituents there.”

The light bulb went off inside Jarrod’s head.

“I remember a scandal my father told me about years ago; a representative’s wife was found in a rather uncompromising situation with another member of the state cabinet. The newly married Mrs. Henderson, I take it?”

“Uh hm. She was very highly paid, and from what I read, very well proportioned; she had a well-known reputation for pleasing her customers. ‘A beauty,’ is how she was described. A past acquaintance met up with her at a party, and they found themselves in an upper floor chamber during one of the receptions at the state department.”

Jarrod started to piece together the story of why Heath was abducted. “This past acquaintance was who?”

“None other than the Governor of California himself.”

Jarrod whistled and again indicated for Herb to continue his story.

“So, the Henderson’s were basically shunned by political society, and at the next election, Patrick Henderson was voted out of his seat. He did the usual bellowing and fire throwing, but the only reward he received was to gain additional enemies in the state government.”

Herb paused and looked thoughtfully at the lawyer. “Mr. Barkley, what stake do you have in all of this?” Herb was getting the feeling that he wasn’t going to the story he originally hoped for.

“I’ll tell you, Mr. McKay, but just bear with me a few more minutes. Can you continue the story?”

“Patrick Henderson divorced his wife, and raised his children with another woman, whom I don’t know. I don’t think he ever married again. Sam Henderson’s father, Frank, grew up on the ranch and took over its operation when Patrick finally retired, and eventually passed away. He tried unsuccessfully for years to buy surrounding properties, but was always rebuffed by the government.”

“The government doesn’t forgive very easily.”

“No, it doesn’t, Mr. Barkley. And Sam Henderson is still carrying the Scarlet Letter from his grandfather’s inappropriate choice of wives, unfortunately.”

“So that’s why Sam was unable to buy the river bed land, but the squatters were able to.”

“That’s about it.”

“Where does the silver figure into all of this?”

“About three years ago, right before the Murphy’s took up residence at the river, Sam hired a bunch of cowhands to pan for silver. He had heard some story from an old prospector that there was indeed silver in the river, and the surrounding mountains held quite a bit of the metal. So, he decided to see if it was indeed true, especially since his grandfather and father must have talked about the silver strikes from years ago.”

“And I take it he was successful?”

“Rumors had it that quite a bit was found, but nobody knows for sure. He did start a campaign at the state department to try and buy the river bed land shortly after. Unfortunately, he got doors slammed in his face. Didn’t stop him, though, and I have it on good authority that he even tried to buy a gift for the state to get them to lift the Henderson ban.”

“Like a baseball team?”

“Exactly. Sam has always been a baseball fan from what I understand, and he used it to gain some friends in the state that may have decided to let the Elizabeth Chase scandal fizzle. He has been trying to buy a team for a few years now, and it has been generally known that Sam was actually invited to a few state functions because of it.”

Jarrod flipped through his notes. “Let’s go back to the silver. He actually hired people to announce they were going to look for silver and be unsuccessful?” Dark blue eyes became wide with disbelief.

“Yes. Again this is all rumors. Supposedly he would have men come into town, announce that they were going to pan for gold or silver up in the hills, buy equipment, and then never return. All with the idea that it would throw off any suspicions.” Herb chuckled. “I told you this was a small town. Everybody knows everybody’s business hereabouts.”

Jarrod pressed ahead. “Then the squatters came along.”

“Yes, the Murphy’s. Must have blown his whole plan. They came down out of the mountains and made themselves at home. Sam couldn’t do anything legally to move them, since they didn’t squat on his land. He did try to gain allies in the government on his behalf, but that proved fruitless.”

Herb was anxious to find out why all this old news was so intriguing to the young lawyer. “Well, Mr. Barkley, care to tell me why this is all so interesting to you?”

Jarrod decided to come clean at this point. “My younger brother, Heath, has been kidnapped. I’m here trying to determine who is behind it, and if the claim that Sam Henderson is making about the land is true.” His eyes and his body conveyed the worry and angst he was carrying.

“Obviously it isn’t.” The lawyer’s voice held contempt as he continued. “His grandfather never bought the land, so there is no land grant to be found. The Murphy’s have every right to be there, since they have bought the land through legal channels. And the reason that Sam Henderson wants the river bed land is due to silver he must have found there years ago.” Jarrod’s quick summation of their entire conversation was succinct and clipped.

The lawyer paused, and spit out his next thought. “My brother was abducted because of greed.”

Herb liked the attorney. He could read people and knew just from their short conversation that the gentleman before him was a man of integrity.

“Did Bud Murphy take your brother?” Herb almost whispered his question.

“The ransom note wasn’t signed, but for all intents and purposes, it has to be him. He’s basically asked me to get him the official land grant document, or at least an official copy, to prove to Sam Henderson who actually owns the land. I presume with that document in hand, he thinks he can get Sam to stop harassing him.”

“How can I help?”

“Who is the circuit court judge in this town?”

“Judge Hendler, but he resides in Pleasantville.” Damn! Jarrod instantly started thinking of all the things he needed to do in order for the judge to approve an order to release a copy of the land grant.

“You’ve told me quite a bit of information about the Henderson’s as if you know them. How do you know this history so well?”

Herb smiled and ran his hand through his hair. “Well, what I told you I haven’t even published. I have a good friend in the Governor’s office that I visit every now and then.” He looked up and smiled. “She, uh, gives me tips on things that are going on there. While I was running the story of Henderson’s claim to that land last year, I learned of his family’s history and kept it tucked away for a rainy day.” He tapped the side of his head.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about the Murphy’s and the Henderson’s?”

“Nothing that I haven’t already told you.” He paused. “Except…”

“Yes?”

“Bud Murphy is the kind of man who keeps to himself and doesn’t bother anybody, unless you cross him. He’s an old mountain man, from what I understand. You know, the kind that can skin a bear with a pocket knife.”

“I should be worried then?”

“He’s been on the receiving end of Sam Henderson’s rage for quite some time now. I’ve met his wife. Nice lady. He has a few children, all of which are great, except Ed. He’s a bad seed.” Herb paused. “Saw him kill a dog once for no reason; just up and shoot him between the eyes. Just said it was barking too much.” He paused again. “Most people steer clear of Ed.”

Herb shook his head and leaned forward. “Yeah, if I were you, I’d be worried.”

Nick and Sheriff Leighton led the first posse to the Cross Roads, aptly named for two roads that bordered several different parcels of land, Henderson’s ranch being one of them. The posse that Nick selected included 4 other men, two of the Sheriff’s choosing, one from the Atlantics baseball team, and one from the Henderson ranch. The ranch hand was big, someone that Nick felt he could use if he really needed extra muscle.

As the men rode, Nick’s mind wandered. He pulled out his pocket watch and looked at the time. Ten o’clock. It was already too long since he had last seen his little brother. The last few hours of worry had made every minute seem like an eternity.

Nick reminisced as the horses pushed forward. He remembered a time about two months before between himself and his beloved younger brother.

He watched as Heath slowly walked into the barn, leading Charger by the reins. The stallion must have pulled a tendon for his brother to be walking instead of riding him. He was ready to bellow a greeting when he realized how haggard Heath appeared. Guessing that his blond sibling must have walked quite a distance, Nick decided to help his brother bed down his horse and let him have first dibs at the bathtub.

As he approached the barn, he heard the usual soft spoken mumblings his brother usually imparted to his faithful friend. But this time, he sounded so incredibly exhausted, that even Nick was unsure of how he was able to stand on his feet.

“Heath, you okay?” Nick used a gentle voice so he didn’t startle his brother or Charger.

“Nick, is that you?” Heath was confused. Nick not yelling?

“Yeah, it’s me.” Nick came up behind his brother and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “What happened?”

“Rattler startled him. Threw me off.” Nick noticed that Heath wasn’t bending over very easily.

“Little brother,” Nick reached out, gently turned him around and gasped at the sight. Heath’s right eye was black and blue, and he had a nasty gash on the side of his head. He obviously had landed hard from his fall.

Nick’s voice was clear and concise at that moment. “Ciego! In here now!”

“Nick, I’m okay. I’ll take care of Charger. He needs tendin’.”

“And so do you, little brother. Ciego can take care of Charger for now, and then I’ll come out later and make sure he’s okay.”

Nick caught his brother as he swayed. “Ciego!”

“Yes, Senor Nick?”

“Take care of Charger right away. I’ll be back later to check on him.”

“Of course, Senor Nick. Everytheen okay?”

“It will be, Ciego. Thanks.”

“Nick, I’m okay really. Just a little sore.”

The tall rancher put his right arm around his brother’s waist as support and locked his left hand onto Heath’s left arm. The blond was unsteady and Nick wanted to make sure he could catch him if he stumbled.

“You’ll feel a whole lot better once you’ve had a hot soak in the tub and a good hot meal. If you stay awake, that is.”

Heath just nodded. He was so tired. His head felt so heavy. “You’ll check on Charger later?”

“I promise.”

Nick walked his brother into the house. By this time, Heath’s head was bobbing and finally landed on his brother’s shoulder. As they climbed the golden stairs, Victoria rushed from the parlor to catch up with them.

“Nick! What happened?”

“Charger tangled with a rattler and lost. Little brother here took a throw and he’s a little banged up.”

“Should I send for Howard?”

“I think so. He has a bad bruise on the side of his head. Mostly, he’s just extremely tired.”

”I’ll send Ciego into town.”

“No, send Duke. Ciego is tending Charger’s leg.”

“Nick?” Heath’s eyes were almost closed, and his head still rested on his brother’s shoulder.

“Right here, kid. Just a few more steps and we’ll be in your room.”

The two brothers made it to Heath’s bedroom, where Nick gently placed the blond on his bed. He started undressing him only to discover that Heath was already asleep. Oh well, so much for a soak and supper.

Audra came to the door and knocked softly, mindful not to enter unless given the okay. “Nick, is everything alright?”

“No, not at the moment. Our brother took a fall from Charger after a rattler startled him. He’s sporting some nasty bruises.”

“Should I go get Dr. Merar?” Audra asked from the hallway.

“Thanks Audra, but that won’t be necessary. Mother is sending Duke into town.”

”Anything I can do?”

“How about some hot water?”

“Coming right up!” Audra’s skirts swirled as she retreated to the kitchen.

“Heath, Heath, can you hear me? It’s Nick. Talk to me little brother, just for a moment! C’mon, let me hear you!” Nick gently rubbed his brother’s cheek, trying to rouse him.

“S’tired, Nick. So tired.”

“Can you look at me for just a second?”

Heath tried his best to open his eyes, but his head felt so heavy, and the effort to lift his eyelids was tremendous. But he kept trying and with one final push, he slit his eyes open to see the anxious face of Nick above him.

“That’s it! Good job, Heath! Dr. Merar will want to know if you opened your eyes.”

“Doc comin’?”

“Yes. You have a dark bruise on the side of your head. Does it hurt?”

“S’tired, Nick.”

“Want some water?”

“No.”

“Okay, go to sleep. I’ll stay with you.”

Nick finished undressing his brother…boots, socks, and pants all came off and were replaced with fresh sleeping pants. He had to roll Heath over to take off his shirt, and what he saw made his eyes water. The largest black and blue bruise he’d ever seen covered almost his entire left side.

“Ouch, Heath. You really took a tumble.” Nick shook his head as he worked.

Audra appeared at the door with a basin of hot water and a pile of freshly cut cloths. “Do you need any help? Is he awake?”

“Yes, I could use some help, and no, he’s asleep. He’ll be fine with a little rest. He took a nasty fall.”

As Audra sat down on the other side of her brother, she saw the bruise that caused Nick such distress. “Oh, Heath! That must really hurt!” She soaked a cloth in the water and handed it to Nick. The rancher’s large hand gently wiped Heath’s upper body clean. With a fresh cloth, he dabbed at the gash on his brother’s head, ever so carefully.

“When the doctor gets here, he might want to clean it again. For now, it’s fine.”

Just then, Victoria entered with her bottle of Watkin’s liniment. “How’s Heath?”

Nick eyed the liniment bottle. “Sleeping. But he won’t be for long if you put that stuff on him. He’ll smell like a camphor ball!”

Victoria smiled. “I’ll wait until Howard gets here. I’m glad he’s sleeping. He looked so weary on the way up here before.” She placed the liniment bottle on the side table, and ran her hand through the blond hair.

“I’ll stay with him, Mother. You and Audra can go have dinner.”

“Alright, son. I’ll have Silas bring you up a tray. Audra, let’s go.”

“If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks, Audra. We’ll be all right.”

Heath slept for almost a day and a half before waking, and the first person he saw was his big brother.

“Welcome back, little brother. I guess you were a mite tired!”

Heath started to stretch and then thought better of it when he felt the pull of his bruise. A slight groan escaped his lips in place of a yawn.

“Take it easy! You’re going to be sore for awhile. Dr. Merar insisted that you stay in bed until he sees you again tomorrow morning.”

“Boy howdy, sore is right!” Heath winced as he felt the side of his head.

“Headache?”

“A little.” Yawn. “Still tired.”

“Where did you and Charger encounter the rattler?”

“By Poet’s Peak.”

”That’s quite a distance. No wonder you’re tired.”

“Seemed like a thousand miles.”

“I don’t know how you did it. The fall must have been hard.” Nick wrung out a cloth and wiped his brother’s brow.

“Thanks, Nick.” Yawn. “Y’know, it’s because of you that I was able to make it back.” Heath’s eyelids drooped.

“How’s that, little brother?”

“All I kept thinkin’ about as I was walkin’ was how mad you were goin’ to be if I didn’t bring home the tally book completed.”

“Heath,” Nick was suddenly embarrassed. Did his brother really think that of him? “I haven’t even thought of the tally book. I was just so concerned about you.”

“I know that, Nick. But the thought of you all riled up kept me goin’.”

“Well, I’m glad I was able to help.” Nick relaxed. Sometimes Heath’s reasoning caught him off guard.

“You did more than that, big brother.” Big yawn. “You brought me home.”

Nick’s thoughts raced back to the present as he hoped the same thing could happen today. He prayed that he could once again bring his little brother home.

The hoof beats approached faster, but Heath Barkley didn’t hear them. He lay trembling and cold in the cover of the forest plants, shivering with both fever and pain.

Bud and Ed Murphy rode up to the shack, but this time they were accompanied by Bud’s second oldest son, Noah, and an extra horse. The plan was to move their prisoner to another hiding place since they saw the search parties leave the Henderson’s just a short time ago.

“Ed, Noah, git on in there and pull that boy out.”

“Okay, Pa.”

“Hurry it up. We don’t got much time.”

The two disheveled teenagers dismounted and lumbered into the shack. As they approached the door, Noah turned to his older sibling. “This here shack is awful nice. Has a roof betterin’ our house.”

“The inside is fine, too. Too good for that fella we took.”

Ed was the first one to reach the door. He cocked his head. Strange, he was positive that he had closed the door when they left the bastard this morning. “Anythin’ wrong, son?”

“Not sure, Pa,” Noah was confused. “Ed, what’s up?”

Ed didn’t answer. His heart started racing with the knowledge that something had gone terribly wrong. He held down his fear and cautiously peered inside. “He’s gone, Pa! He’s gone!” He slammed the door open and stepped inside. His eyes darted around the entire cabin interior, hoping that the blond cowboy had just crawled into a corner. Ed noticed that a blood trail, probably from the bastard’s feet, went from the support pole to the front door. How the hell did he manage to get out?

Feeling totally disgusted, Bud Murphy jumped off his horse and reached around to his scabbard. He strode into the cabin with his rifle. If the kid was gone, then their plan might already be doomed.

“What’s goin’ on in here?”

“I dunno, Pa,” Noah answered. “Where’s that guy you was tellin’ me ‘bout?”

“He’s gone, Pa! I don’ believe it! He was so bad cut up that he couldn’t get out by hisself!”

“I told ya we shoulda left him tied to the pole.”

“Well, you didn’t want him to die yet, you said. Keepin’ him tied up and not lettin’ have any water would have kilt him fer sure.”

Bud Murphy was not a stupid man. He started to think. He and his sons were at the cabin now ten minutes, and no one had yelled for them to surrender. That meant no one had found the boy….the kid must have somehow crawled out.

But he couldn’t have gone far, not in the condition he was in.

“Git your guns and start nosin’ around the shack. I bet he’s around here somewhere.”

“Right, Pa.” Ed answered. He was furious. How dare that piece of dirt escape from him!

Noah followed his older brother out of the shack and to their horses. He already hated this situation. He still felt that the best way to fight the Henderson’s was in the court systems. He didn’t understand all the mumbo jumbo of the law, but he did know that they bought the land fair and square from the government. That meant there was plenty of evidence to show they were the legal owners. Why did his father and Ed still think like backwoods frontiersmen? Kidnapping was going to land them all in jail.

The two boys retrieved their guns and decided in which direction they each would start looking. Bud announced that he would stand guard at the shack, just in case anybody rode up.

Noah was worried about Ed. His older half-sibling, he reminded himself, had too much of their father in him for his own good. Fight first, think second. A hothead from when he was a toddler, Noah never really understood his brother’s volatile nature.

“Iffen you find him, Ed, don’t do anythin’ to him. Call for me or Pa.”

“Shut up, Noah. Pa and I know what we’s doin’. Iffen you find that blond dirt, don’t you let him go.”

Noah waved his brother off with a flip of his hand. It was going to be a long, long day.

Armed with the knowledge that Sam Henderson was indeed the catalyst that caused his younger brother to be kidnapped, Jarrod picked up his hat and strode to the door. The next stop was the telegraph office.

“I can’t thank you enough for all your information, Mr. McKay. You’ve helped tremendously.” Jarrod reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. “My family and I will be forever grateful.”

He extended a few bills to the editor, who shook his head and waved his hands in negation. “I can’t accept that from you, Mr. Barkley. And please, call me Herb.”

”I can’t promise you a story about my brother, Herb. Knowing Heath, he wouldn’t want anything in the paper that will bring undue attention to this incident.”

Herb rubbed his chin. “Well, I can get the story on Sam Henderson, can’t I? We can work out how best to protect your brother’s privacy.”

“Very well. But please take it,” Jarrod extended the money again. “I might need your help again.”

Herb reluctantly took the money. “Thank you, Mr. Barkley. I’ll accept this only under one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That you let me buy you and your brothers dinner when this is all over. I’d very much like to meet them.” Herb paused. The newspaperman decided to let the story go for now. The man before him deserved that consideration. “And I’d like to meet your younger brother. If he’s anything like you, then I’ll be honored to call him friend.”

“Thank you, Herb. And for the record, he’s better than me.”

“Good luck, Mr. Barkley.”

“The name’s Jarrod.” With that, the lawyer tipped his hat and exited.

Once outside the news office, Jarrod walked purposely down to the Telegraph office. As expected, a sign marked “Closed” hung inside the door. Jarrod banged on the glass until an elderly man, wearing his red checkered napkin in his collar, came to the door.

He chewed and pointed at the same time to the “Closed” sign. Jarrod reached for his wallet, opened it up, and took out several bills. He held them up and mouthed the word, “Open.”

The door immediately unlocked.

“Mister, I guess you have a telegram that can’t wait until tomorrow?” The telegraph operator sported a handle bar mustache and a receding hairline, both tempered in salt and pepper.

“That’s right. I need to send a telegram to Judge Hendler in Pleasantville immediately.”

“Well, you come to the right place. You’re lucky I was home eatin’ lunch instead of at the saloon.” The man chuckled, and leaned over as if to tell Jarrod a secret. “Y’know, on account of it’s Sunday.”

“Yes, yes, thank you. Can we send the telegram right now?”

“Sure, sure. Come on in. You can write what you want over here,” the man explained as he led Jarrod to the counter.

“I have to tell you that no one may see it unless Charlie is home today, too.” He paused. “Y’know, on account of…”

“…of it’s Sunday. Yes, I know,” Jarrod tried to keep his frustration in check.

The lawyer wrote out the note, and left several more bills on the counter. “If you receive a reply, can you kindly bring it to the newspaper office? I’ll be waiting there.”

The elderly man’s eyes brightened at the additional bonus. “Sure thing, mister! You, uh, this Mr. Barkley?”

“Yes. Please don’t delay in sending the telegram. It’s really a matter of life and death.”

“No need to worry. As long as Charlie’s at home, I’ll have an answer for you right quick.” The man sat down and started zapping away.

Jarrod closed the door behind him and looked down at his watch again. Next stop, the Sheriff’s Office.

He knew that Sheriff Leighton was busy with Nick and the search parties, but he might require help gaining access to the Records Office in the Town Hall. The deputy would be needed to support the Judge’s writ, and help acquire access to those precious files.

A church bell rang out as Sunday services ended. He looked at his watch. Noon. Had it only been 6 hours since Heath’s disappearance? He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to the Almighty, begging for his brother’s safety.

As the church crowd slowly maneuvered their way through town, Jarrod entered the Sheriff’s office. A young deputy sat behind the main desk, feet propped up, reading the very newspaper Herb McKay managed.

“Hello, I’m Jarrod Barkley. Who’s in charge?”

“I am, mister. Sheriff’s out on business right now.”

“Yes, I know. He’s out looking for my brother.” Jarrod’s deep blue eyes stared at the young man. He needed this officer of the law to help him, but he didn’t want to waste any time convincing him to.

“Oh, yes, that’s right. I haven’t heard any word, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“What’s your name, son?”

“Lance. Lance Zimmer. Deputy Lance Zimmer.” The young officer stood up, offered his hand in greeting, and proudly introduced himself. “Sorry about your brother, Mr. Barkley. Sheriff Leighton is awfully good. He’ll find him.”

At the mention of Heath, Jarrod’s heart started to race, and he felt his skin flush. Time, time. He didn’t want to waste a precious moment. “Deputy Zimmer, I need your help. The ransom note is requesting a copy of the land grant proving the Murphy’s own the riverbed area. Who runs the Land Survey office?”

“That would be Mr. Michaels, but everything’s closed today.” He leaned over as if to tell Jarrod a secret. “Y’know, on account of it’s Sunday.” Deputy Zimmer’s eyes were bright. He was in charge.

Jarrod rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. Patience, patience. “Deputy, where does Mr. Michaels live?”

“He lives at the edge of town, in a little green painted house.” The deputy looked warily at Jarrod. “Why?”

“I need to ask him to open up the Land Office. I’m waiting for a telegram from Judge Hendler giving him permission to do so. I might need your help to officiate over this today.”

“I’m not sure, Mr. Barkley. I’m supposed to stay here in case anything happens.”

“This is ‘anything’, Deputy.” Jarrod leaned forward to emphasize his point. His face had taken on a hard look; a look that conveyed there was no room for discussion. “I’ll be back shortly.” He poked his finger at the young man’s chest, one…two….three. “Don’t get lost.”

Dumbfounded, Deputy Zimmer just stood there and nodded.

The lawyer put his hat on, turned back and smiled, and walked out into the sunshine. He headed over to the Stewartsville Times office to await his telegram.

As they started to search in the forest canopy, Ed passed by Heath’s prone body by less than a foot. His boot came within inches of the quivering fingers, but went unnoticed.

Heath started to rouse. He heard footsteps. Soldiers! They were close. Stay down, stay quiet. His respiration quickened, but hard experience had him concealing his breaths. As soon as he could, he would make a run for it.

In his dazed state, the cowboy turned bluecoat was not even aware that his feet were caked with dried blood.

Footsteps. Quiet. Stay down. Stay low.

Heath Barkley opened his eyes slowly and looked around. He controlled his breathing so he would not be detected; this was an old trick he learned from his war buddy, Tyler. Where was his friend? More importantly, where was he? The terrain didn’t look familiar.

But he was out of that prison…out…free…and had no intentions of going back.

The man that had just walked by didn’t notice him. There weren’t that many other men around either. Strange. Usually the Rebs swarmed an area that they were searching. Good. That would make it easier for him to find better cover.

He felt a strange sensation at his neck and reached over to find a collar locked into place. Where did this come from? But before he could try to reason it out, he heard hoof beats. More Rebs! His heartbeat quickened; he felt his body flush with fear.

The men that were searching for him started yelling that they had to leave. They ran back to their horses and took off down the road. Now was his chance. Before the other riders arrived, the blond needed to be moving. Moving….moving….but to where?

He moved his body for the first time and a wave of agony washed over him, causing Heath to gasp at the pain. What was wrong with him? He didn’t remember getting shot. But his lower back screamed, and his feet burned. He tried to turn his head to see what the problem was, but the collar hindered his movement.

The hoof beats slowed. They were approaching with caution. The fever caused his eyesight to blur, so he couldn’t make out any faces. He saw only tall figures on horseback. He needed to move now or they might find him. He brought his legs up underneath him, and breathed as best he could through the pain. He felt nauseous, but held that in check, too. He wouldn’t be able to move if he let his body betray him.

Gathering all his courage and knowing that he was going to have to deal with the abuse his body was going to take, the young blond crawled on his knees and elbows as quietly as he could deeper into the forest. Once he found a small opening, he gritted his teeth, pulled his legs underneath him, and crouched.

The shirtless man almost yelled out from the excruciating pain his feet were being subjected to. As the horses drew closer, fear took over. Tyler! Where was Tyler?

The adrenalin flowed in. The young soldier’s thought processes kicked into overdrive. He wasn’t going to go back to that hellhole. He wasn’t going to be recaptured! He’d die first.

He ran….and he cried at the same time.

The Sheriff put his hand up for the men to be quiet and to slow their mounts down as the posse made its way to the first line shack. It took all of Nick’s self control not to charge into the shack’s front yard and barge into the small building. He begrudgingly heeded the law officer’s directive, and kept in tow with the rest of the group.

As they neared the well-built one-room cabin, everyone saw that something had happened here. The door was wide open, and the ground had fresh hoof prints all over it. Looking closer, there appeared to be a slight blood trail from the front door, across the small porch, and down the two small steps.

Without waiting for direction, Nick Barkley swung off Coco and drew his gun. He looked back and saw the rest of the men doing the same thing.

“Take it easy, Barkley,” the Sheriff warned. “We don’t know if anybody’s inside.” He paused while his eyes scanned the area. “Or still around.”

Nick nodded his head, and wiped his sleeve across his face. He was sweating, from both the ride and the accompanying anxiety. He knew in his heart that his brother had been here.

The tall rancher approached the cabin’s door, with the Henderson ranch hand following close behind him, firearm drawn. Nick was grateful for the backup. What was his name? Oh, yeah….Bill Larson.

“Mr. Barkley, I’ll go in first if you want.”

Nick looked over his shoulder and smiled. The man was a walking mountain, towering over the dark clad cowboy by more than three inches.

“Nobody’s here. I have a feeling. But let’s check it out anyway.” Larson nodded.

Nick entered the cabin and instantly pulled back. The smell of blood, sickness and excrement filled his nostrils. His gut clenched from the knowledge that he must have missed his brother by only a short time.

He walked over to the center pole and realized that Heath must have been tied up here. He saw a spilled pitcher of water, and few cut ropes. What he couldn’t understand was the blood trail. There were two distinct blood pools, too. About a foot apart. Why would the blood be that far away from the pole? He holstered his gun and bent down to study the life giving liquid that was already drying on the floor.

Suddenly, a thought ripped through Nick. The kidnappers had delivered Heath’s boots to them.

No….they wouldn’t…..the brutality of it…..

He started to shake. He shook with anger. He shook with hatred.

No!!

His legs felt like jelly and his knees slightly buckled.

As he turned around to leave the cabin, he bumped into the moving mountain. Larson’s huge hands held him steady. “Mr. Barkley, we’ll find him.” The deep voice tried to provide comfort. “And we’ll find the men who hurt him, too.” He paused. “I promise you.”

Nick looked up and nodded. What he saw surprised him. Larson’s face held a similar anger and hatred for what had obviously happened in the closed room. But why?

Larson answered the unspoken question. “Your brother doesn’t deserve what happened to him. He’s a kind man, and a good horseman. We’ll find him.”

Nick couldn’t speak. He needed to get into fresh air. His new ally helped him out the door and into the waiting sunshine.

...Continued