Back in Stockton, the Barkleys were ready to call it a night when Victoria noticed Nick ambling towards the French doors to step onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air. After kissing Jarrod and Audra goodnight she wandered outside to join her harried son.

“What is it Nick? You look troubled.”

“He’s hurt, Mother,” Nick said, staring into nothingness. “He’s hurt bad I can feel it.” He closed his eyes in deep concentration.

“Maybe he found answers.”

“No.” He shook his head, his lips pursing in excruciating pain. “He’s hurt physically. It’s burning a hole in my guts.”

How Victoria ached to allay her son’s torment with comforting words. Many were the occasions when she, herself, could sense some distress in her blond son but never as strongly as Nick could. Their connection baffled the mind and defied all plausible explanation and although she considered it foolish to rely on a feeling, she had learned over the years never to blindly dismiss Nick’s instincts when it came to Heath. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek and stared deeply into his pained eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m going after him. He needs me, Mother.”

“Okay. But I won’t have you riding alone.”

“I’ll ask…” Nick’s thought was interrupted by a loud bang on the front door. “Who could that be at this hour?” Nick ushered his mother inside before striding over to the front door. “Charlie? What are you doing here at this time of night?”

“This wire came for you from the sheriff’s office of Swan Creek” the young man panted, trying to catch his breath. “It’s marked extremely urgent.”

Nick twitched the wire out of Charlie’s hand before he could release his hold on it. Nick unfolded the paper and pored over the message. “It’s Heath.”

“What is it?”

“Says he’s dying.”

“What’s all the commotion down there?” Jarrod asked from the banister with Audra standing beside him equally bemused.

“Jarrod, Audra, pack your bags. We’re leaving for Swan Creek tonight. Heath’s dying,” Nick informed boldly as he strode up the stairs to his room. Victoria hiked up her skirt and followed close behind.

“Oh my God!” Audra gasped, seeking comfort in Jarrod’s arms.

“Mother, what happened?” Jarrod queried.

“We don’t know. Just that we need to come as soon as possible. Jarrod could you go ask one of the men to hitch up the team. And have another ride over to Duke’s house to advise him of our departure.”

“Right away, Mother,” Jarrod thundered down the stairs and breezed out the front door while mother and daughter clung to each other for emotional support.

The first ray of the morning sun filtered through the window and came to rest on Rachel’s face. The heat nipped at her nose, tickling her awake. She raised her head from the bed and turned her attention to Heath’s chest, relieved to see the constant rise and fall. A grateful smile flickered on her lips at the thought of Leah keeping a vigil on her golden child. She stretched out her hand to brush it lightly against Heath’s forehead. “Doctor Stanton,” she called out.

“What is it, Miss Caulfield?”

“Is it me or has his fever gone down?”

Dr. Stanton approached the bed in order to verify the careworn woman’s statement. “Yes indeed. He feels less warm.” He adjusted his stethoscope to study the patient’s heartbeat, after which he applied both hands onto his abdomen to feel for signs of rigidity. “Mmmmmmmmmm.”

“What? What is it?” she asked worriedly, the murmuring sounds emitted sending her into a panic.

“The swelling in his abdomen has considerably subsided.”

“That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Some.”

“You don’t sound very optimistic, Doctor. Less than ten hours ago you were telling us he wouldn’t hold on more than five hours. Look at him now. Not only is he still breathing but his fever’s down.”

“Miss Caulfield,” he exhaled with a tinge of annoyance, “you must understand that the damage has already been done. The internal bleeding may have stopped but there’s still the matter of his head concussion and the harm inflicted on his nervous system.” Rachel sat prostrated with grief at this prognosis. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and spoke sombrely, “There’s always room for a miracle but I would advise against clinging onto a dim hope. I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head in utter disbelief. “I’m hardly acquainted with this young man but still I feel he’s a fighter.” She inhaled a shuddering breath and laid her hand on Heath’s shoulder, gazing tenderly at the flushed face. “He may surprise us yet.”

“Doctor,” Nurse Olson called out as she entered the recovery room. “The Barkleys have arrived.”

“Tell them I’ll be right out.” He turned his attention back to the grieving woman. “You want to stay here?”

“If you don’t mind. I don’t need to hear the details over again.”

He gave her a light tap on the shoulder and left to meet with the patient’s family already clinging onto Dr. Melville’s every word.

“I was just telling Mrs. Barkley the severity of her son’s condition.”

“There’s a bit of good news and that’s the fact that his fever is down as well as the swelling in the abdomen.”

“Then he is gonna be alright?” Nick asked bluntly, almost rhetorically.

“Like I told Miss Caulfield who’s sitting with him in the next room, the damage has already been done.”

“What does that mean, Doctor?” Jarrod queried with a disquiet expression.

“That should he survive he will remain in a coma,” he informed on a dismal tone.

Victoria’s heart sank at the news. Her legs slowly giving way from the shock sustained to her small frame, she instinctively gripped Nick’s arm for physical support. He responded by wrapping an arm around her trembling shoulders. “Can we see him?” Nick asked meekly to ensure the doctor’s compliance to his request.

“I can only allow two people at the time; three at the most. Miss Caulfield is already with Heath. Mrs. Barkley you and your son go in first.”

“Thank you,” Victoria quavered in a voice just above a whisper. She clung to Nick’s arm as he ushered her inside the recovery room where Rachel sat by the bed rubbing Heath’s hand in a soothing motion.

“Rachel!” Victoria exclaimed.

“Victoria!” Rachel staggered back, standing from her chair to fall into Victoria’s arms. “It’s so good to see you again. I’m so sorry it couldn’t be under more pleasant circumstances.”

“This is my son, Nick” Victoria introduced proudly.

“Nick, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise I’m sure.” The half-hearted smile he strained at the lady shaking his hand quickly dissolved when he caught sight of his listless brother lying recumbent on the bed. With faltering steps he made his way to his comatose sibling, taking inventory of the injuries before he leaned in closer to Heath’s face to whisper, “Hey Little Brother. We’re here. Your family is here.”

“What happened to him?” Victoria inquired of Dr. Stanton.

“Two men say he attacked them. One of them shot him in self-defence. When he fell to the ground he bashed his head against a rock.”

“Attacked them?” Nick hissed. “That’s ridiculous! Who said that?”

“One man is sleeping in the other room. His friend said your brother shot him.”

“Where is he?” Nick fumed, marching angrily toward the door.”

“Mister Barkley, please. That man is still my patient and I must insist you don’t disturb him until he is fully recovered. However you are welcomed to talk to his friend, Joe Gaines. He took a room at the hotel. However I expect he’ll be here soon to visit. You can also speak to Sheriff Asner. His office is down the street. He believes the two men’s story doesn’t hold and that maybe they are the ones who assaulted your brother for his money.”

“That’s more likely. Mother you stay here with Audra and Miss Caulfield. Me and Jarrod will go down to see the sheriff where hopefully we can get some answers. Thereafter we’re gonna pay a little visit to this Joe Gaines.”

Victoria shivered at the dark seething eyes blazing murderously. “Nick, please, don’t do anything you might regret.”

“I’ll try. So help me God I’ll try but I can’t promise anything.” He turned to Heath with eyes suffusing with tears. “Nobody hurts my little brother like this. NOBODY!”

No sooner had Nick stormed out of the office with Jarrod that Audra came into the room to join her mother and Rachel. “Mother what’s going on? Where are Nick and Jarrod going?”

“To see the sheriff to find out what happened to Heath.” Victoria held out her hand for Audra to clasp it. “Rachel I would like to introduce you to my daughter, Audra.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Audra.”

“The pleasure’s all mine Miss Caulfield. Mother told us so much about you.”

“Did she?”

“Well it was by accident after we found out that Heath had been adopted at birth.”

“Heath told me what happened; that you never told him until a couple of weeks go.”

“Tom and I could never bring ourselves to tell him. A friend of mine who was in town for a few days blurted it out. I thought maybe she’d done it on purpose, out of spite for some reason unknown, but she assured me it wasn’t like that. I have to believe she’s telling the truth or I would have ripped her heart out for the torment she plunged my son into,” Victoria ended on a scathing tone, her eyes shooting daggers at the mental picture of Bea Shyer. “Because of her our lives are in turmoil and…,” she faltered at the thought of Heath dying. She placed a hand over her mouth to quell the rising bile of anger and sorrow.

Rachel placed a hand on her shoulder and willed her friend’s teary eyes to hers. “I haven’t known Heath that long but during the little time I had with him when he came to visit to ask questions about is birth father I could sense a remarkable fortitude within him. You raised him good, Victoria. He’s a fine young man. Despite the doctor’s grim prognosis I’m not giving up on him.”

“Thank you, Rachel. That means a lot.”

“Heath was returning home to you when this happened.”

“He was?”

Rachel nodded. “You go be with your son. I’ll go down to the hotel for something to eat. I’ll be back later.”

“I appreciate your being here,” Victoria thanked Rachel with a light squeeze on her arm.

Rachel crossed path with Dr. Stanton as she exited the room. He walked up to Victoria and handed her Heath’s saddlebag. “He had this with him.”

She frowned quizzically at the surprisingly heavy item. She went to sit in a chair to better inspect the content of her son’s bag. She pulled out the box that Rachel had given him and opened it. The picture of Tom and Leah leapt at her. She gasped in shock at the date marked on the back. With a tightening in her chest threatening to choke her she scanned the photograph, taking in every detail of Tom’s features she immediately recognized in her blond son. ‘My God! No! This can’t be,’ her mind screamed. Her eyes registered a mixture of terror and fear at the revelation. “Why didn’t I see it before?” she whispered to herself. Her world came tumbling down at the sight of a single picture. Her mind retrieved the memory of her husband’s business trip to Strawberry prior to conceiving the child she later lost in that same town. He heart aching with the knowledge that her husband had been unfaithful. She took a few moments to recover her composure before she began rummaging through the letters and personal items, including a pair of knitted baby shoes that wrung a fleeting smile out of her.

She picked up an envelope written in Tom’s handwriting and opened it, inhaling deeply to summon the courage to read it without breaking down.

My Dearest Leah,

I am grateful for everything you’ve done for me over the last few weeks, nursing me back to health and offering the hospitality of your home during my convalescence and memory loss.

You are a marvellous woman, Leah. Beautiful and strong. You deserve a man who will love you and give you children like my darling wife has me. I love her with all of my heart. She is my life. You deserve to be happy and I know that it can never be with us.

I will never forget you,

Tom

Victoria clutched the letter to her chest and closed her eyes to absorb every word. Her husband had been sick, amnesiac, thus the reason why he never sought the comfort of his home and family. Having met Leah herself she understood why Tom would fall in love with her. She wiped the tears trickling down the corner of her eyes before picking up another personal letter, this one in Leah’s handwriting.

Dear Tom,

I received your letter today. Needless to say it tore me apart to hear you were staying with your family but at the same time it filled me with happiness. They are lucky to have you. You are a great man who deserves to be happy. That is the reason why I will never speak of our child conceived in love. Thank you for giving me a part of you.

Love,

Leah

“Oh Tom,” Victoria quavered with every fibre of her being a hand firmly pressed against her mouth to avoid dissolving into a torrent of tears. She lifted her pained teary eyes off the paper to gaze at her dying son. “Heath is your son; your own flesh and blood,” she reflected aloud in a subdued voice so not to attract Audra’s attention. An icy clutch of dread seized her at the thought of Heath knowing the truth. She could fathom the depth of his pain when he found out that his adoptive father was in reality his biological father. He was coming home but at what price to his sanity? Was he prepared to share this discovery with her and risk severing the thread that bound the family together?

Victoria decided to bury the past in the deep recesses of her mind in order to concentrate on the present. Heath needed to sense her presence and feel her undying love. She closed the box and put it back inside the saddlebag before she stood and padded up to the bed to sit across from Audra.

“Mother, he’s so pale; so still,” Audra whimpered.

“I know.” Victoria stroked her son’s cheek while cradling his limp hand in her other hand. “Let’s hold good thoughts, Audra. He needs to know his family is fighting with him.”

At the saloon, Nick was beside himself; peeved at Sheriff’s Asner’s unwillingness to lock the two ruffians who assaulted his brother. Jarrod tried his best to douse the fire by calmly exposing the situation; that there was no substantial evidence that would indicate the two men were responsible for Heath’s injuries.

“Jarrod, surely you don’t believe Heath jumped those guys for money?” Nick bellowed, his arms flailing about wildly to emphasize his anger.

“Of course not. The sheriff himself doesn’t believe it but he can’t do anything without solid evidence. Even if Heath should regain consciousness and give his version of the facts there’s a slim chance that a judge will believe him. It’s one word against the other. You can’t issue an arrest based on mere suspicion.”

Nick slammed his fist against the counter in a fit of fury. His teeth clenched in rage, his face turning crimson at the thought of his brother’s assailants walking with a mere slap on the hand. “I’ll kill them!”

“Nick, don’t say this out loud,” Jarrod warned, glancing around the room at the saloon patrons looking in their direction. “Not here with witnesses around. I know you’re angry, so am I. But Heath is our main concern right now.”

Prostrated with grief, Nick leaned his elbows against the counter and propped his head in his hands. “Doc’s not holding out much hope.”

Jarrod laid a comforting hand on Nick’s shoulder. “That doctor doesn’t know about the Barkley stubborn streak,” he teased good-naturedly on a light-hearted tone, succeeding in igniting a flicker of a smile on Nick’s lips. “Come on, let’s go back to the doctor’s office. Brother Heath needs you.”

Nick insisted on keeping a vigil on Heath while the family went to the hotel to catch a few hours of sleep. Sitting by the bed, his brother’s hand sandwiched between his, Nick kept a one-way conversation going hoping to rouse Heath’s dormant senses and coax him back to the surface.

“Doctor, can he hear me?” Nick inquired of the doctor taking Heath’s pulse.

“It’s hard to say. He’s in a deep coma. He’s not responding to any stimuli whatsoever. Not even a flinch.”

“But his breathing’s less ragged and the fever’s gone. Surely those are good signs?” Nick argued.

“He’s survived thus far but that’s about all.”

“I know he’s in there. I know he can hear me.”

Dr. Stanton flashed a contrived smile at the concerned brother’s belief before he quietly stepped out of the room.

“Don’t listen to him, Heath. I’m not. Ya gonna be alright. And when you are, me and you will go somewhere to do some major brother bonding. We haven’t done that in a while.” Gulping hard to curb the emotions rising to his throat, Nick leaned in closer to Heath’s face and whispered. “You’re a Barkley, boy. Ya hear me? You inherited that stubborn streak. Show that doctor what we’re all about. We’re fighters.” He squeezed Heath’s hand tighter, hoping to elicit some reaction. “Come on, Heath. Ya got to come back. I can’t make it without ya,” he finished on a choked voice.

Days trickled by and still no improvement in Heath’s condition. The young man remained in a deep coma, unaware of sounds, smells and voices striving to cleave through the thick cloak of darkness enfolding him.

It was suggested that the family return home with Heath seeing how Dr. Stanton had exhausted all known medical options to rouse him from his coma.

Nick was all too thrilled to get his brother away from the bad vibrations; this pessimism was dampening his spirits. Deep within he felt Heath would eventually come around and for this to happen he needed to bathe his little brother in a familiar environment. Home, in his room, pampered by his family, people who are aware of his fortitude and strength to overcome the impossible. Nick was never one to cower in the face of adversity. This struggle was no different. He intended to fight till the finish and come out the victor.

A few days cascaded down with Nick keeping a daily routine of drudging on the ranch during mornings and early afternoons and reading to Heath in the evenings and at nights before retiring to bed. Heath’s eyes occasionally opened, but his vacant stare would remain fastened on the ceiling, barely batting an eyelid. Nick ignored the doctor’s statement saying his brother’s reaction was purely involuntary, particularly when Victoria had noticed that Heath opened his eyes only when Nick would read to him, as though he was responding to his brother’s voice. Although there were no sign of acknowledgment whatsoever Nick sensed his words reverberated in Heath’s abysmal corners of his mind. He closed his eyes, his mind roving back to Rizley and his prison camp.

‘That coma is the same as the iron box he was trapped in,’ Nick surmised to himself. ‘I need to find that key and you’ll be free, Heath. I won’t let ya die in there. Never. I’ll get ya out somehow. I know the key is somewhere and I’m gonna raise Cain to find it,” Nick vowed to the still form staring blankly at the ceiling. And then, moving in closer, he whispered into Heath’s ear. “Heath, you hear me? I’m gonna get ya out of there.” Nick’s eyes clouded up with tears at his umpteenth failed attempt to get a reaction out of his little brother.

Downstairs, Victoria welcomed Dr. Merar who dropped by for his regular check up on the comatose patient. “He’s a strong stubborn man, I’ll give him that. He won’t give up.”

“I believe he might have had it not been for Nick sitting with him everyday since we’ve been here. His eyes remain close whenever Audra, Jarrod or I talk to him. But they are wide open when Nick is in the room reading to him. Howard could it be that…”

Dr. Merar interrupted Victoria’s thought with a friendly hand on her shoulder. “No Victoria. I told you before it’s involuntary. I understand how you might be encouraged to believe that he’s making some progress but he’s not. The only miracle is that he’s still alive. His vital signs are degrading everyday; but somehow he’s still hanging on.” He pulled out a telegram out of his pocket. “Charlie at the telegraph office gave this wire for you. It’s from Sheriff Asner in Swan Creek.”

Victoria opened the envelope and as she began reading the message, her expression turned from curiosity to consternation.

“Mother, was it is?” Audra queried, worried by her mother’s solemn face.

“It’s the two men who allegedly attacked Heath. They left Swan Creek two days ago.”

“You don’t think they might come here to finish what they started?”

“No I don’t believe they are foolish enough to do that, “Victoria replied. “They were lucky once to have escaped punishment. They’ll heed Nick’s warning to never come within ten miles of Heath. They know all too well what’s awaiting them if they so much cross that line.”

“I’ll go check on Heath. Is Nick up there with him?”

“Where else?”

Howard fashioned an amused smile at Victoria’s remark and climbed up the stairs to Heath’s room. He greeted Nick sitting in an armchair by the bed, reading to Heath. He snapped close the book and stood ready to be of assistance to Howard if needed.

Dr. Merar flashed a light reflected by the sun in his patient’s eyes to study the pupillary reflex. He gave a rueful shake of the head as he stood from the bed and with a heavy sigh, removed his stethoscope from his ears and hung it around his neck. “There’s no change.”

“That can’t be, Doc. I know he can hear me,” Nick argued fiercely. “When I talk to him I can see it in his eyes that he understands.”

“That’s what you want to believe,” the doctor countered. He glanced back at his comatose patient and shook his head with hopelessness. “There is no reaction whatsoever. He is no longer with us.”

“You’re wrong! I know my brother’s in there struggling to get out.”

“Try to understand…”

“No YOU understand something, DOCTOR,” Nick lashed out, jabbing his finger at the physician standing rooted to the spot at the sudden outburst. “He’s a Barkley,” he moved his finger towards the listless patient lying on the bed, “and Barkleys NEVER give up. I am NOT gonna sit by and watch him die. I won’t give up on him no matter what doctors tell us, HE IS NOT going to die.”

With a composed stance, Dr. Merar stepped over to the dresser to put his stethoscope in his bag. “There’s nothing more I can do for him.” He pinched the bag close, took a hold of the handle and turned to the grieving brother. “I can’t make you resign to his fate. You are more than welcomed to seek other opinions but my guess is that they will all be the same.” He looked down at the patient next to him. “At least he won’t be in any pain.”

“Go away. Leave me alone with him.”

“I’m truly sorry,” the doctor said with genuine sympathy.

“Sure ya are,” Nick scoffed as he made his way to the bed to sit in the chair. “Go on, get out. You said it yourself ya can’t do anything more for him.”

With a shuddering breath and a heavy heart the doctor crossed to the doorway. He cast a last glimpse at the two brothers before closing the door.

“Don’t ya worry none ‘bout what that no-good doctor says. Ya gonna be fine. I know ya can hear me.” He waited for a sign that his brother was complying to his request. “I won’t let ya give up, ya hear me? I won’t let ya give up.” He slid his hand in the limp one and squeezed it tightly with the hopes of eliciting a response. The deathly silence was deafening. He raised the hand to his cheek and let the tears flow.

“You can’t die. I need ya, brother. I need ya’ so much.” He squished his eyes together to wring out the tears before he looked heavenwards. “Please God, don’t let him die. I beg of ya, gimme back my brother.”

...Continued