Nick drove the wagon through the last treacherous miles up the mountain, heedful to keep the horses at a light amble so not to jostle the precious cargo lying in the back. He would occasionally snatch a glimpse of his brother to ensure he was still comfortably bundled up in his blankets.

Upon reaching the chosen location, Nick stopped the wagon and slipped on a light coat to keep the cold weather from nipping at his bones. Thereafter he went to check on the makeshift abode he and Heath had erected from dead tree branches a while back. He shook the foundation to test its solidity. Once the shelter passed inspection, Nick returned to the wagon to pick up a few blankets that he spread on the travois that was to serve as Heath’s bed. He retraced his steps to the wagon and hopped in the back to crawl over to his brother

“Hey Heath, we’re here. We’re at our special place.” Nick’s heart quailed at the stillness of Heath’s answer, his eyes open but devoid of any readable expression. He gulped back the emotions and with a loud inhale he proceeded to carefully slid his brother toward the end to better lift him in his arms and carry him to the shelter where he gently laid him down on the heap of blankets. Without averting his gaze from Heath’s eyes, Nick ventured to tickle him on the sides as he hoped to elicit a reaction, but none came. His eyes hung in despair, fighting back the tears; his heart bleeding in sorrow while he tucked the edge of the blankets underneath is brother’s body. He stood and went to gather sprigs of wood to build a fire.

Later that evening once the last ray of golden sunshine had faded behind the horizon, Nick carried on a solitary conversation as he stirred canned beans inside a pot over the crackling fire.

“Can you believe it? I’m actually eating beans,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well I got to admit my recipe isn’t so bad. You should try it sometimes.” He shifted his eyes to the left to gauge Heath’s reaction to his witty comment. “No? Not even a nibble?” The unblinking vacant look stared back at him. He dropped the spoon into the pot to let the dish simmer, and then took his canteen to place the opening to Heath’s mouth. “Come on. Drink some of that water.” Nick forcibly parted his brother’s lips to trickle a few drops of water down his throat, careful to massage his neck to ease the liquid down before continuing.

An icy clutched of dread suddenly gripped Nick at the sight of his brother’s head slumping sideways. “Heath! Come on Little Brother. It’s not time to sleep. Come one.” Panicked, he dropped the canteen and moved to sit behind Heath’s head. Gently he lifted his upper torso to lean against his chest, head resting on his shoulder. He adjusted the blankets and began rubbing Heath’s arm while the other hand firmly held the sluggish form against him. “Heath please,” he beseeched whisperingly in his brother’s ear. “I promised you a sunrise tomorrow. Don’t let me down, Brother. Stay with me.” With arms tightly enfolding his brother’s body, Nick began rocking back and forth in a desperate attempt to prevent the soul from leaving the shell.

When all seemed lost, he lifted his teary eyes heavenwards to appeal to the Supreme Being. “People say there’s a reason for everything. Well I’d sure like to know why ya let this happen,” he chastised in spite of his better judgement. “I don’t care if he’s not my brother by blood; He’s my brother by love, work and sacrifice.” He squished his eyelids together when a torrent of stinging tears invaded his eyes. “I don’t know what to do. Please, tell me what to do? You can’t take him away from me. Not like this. I never asked much from ya. Fought my own battles; dealt with my own demons. This is something I can’t control.” Feeling a tightening in his chest, Nick inhaled deeply to quell the wave of tears threatening to spur out. He was never one to wear his emotions on his sleeve but this was too overwhelming even for the high mighty Nick Barkley to vanquish.

He adjusted the makeshift pillows behind his head and lay down beside his brother, careful to lean Heath’s head in the crook of his arm. “I promised you a sunrise tomorrow,” he told Heath as he pulled the blanket up to their chests. “I expect you to honor that appointment Little Brother.” Nick secured the rifle in one hand while his other arm was wrapped around his brother’s shoulders. Shortly following a stretching yawn, sleep claimed him.

Dawn had yet to pearl in the sky when Nick was yanked from his deep sleep by the click of a hammer being pulled back at his temple. “Don’t move an inch, Cowboy, or that kid brother of yours gets it.”

Nick blinked open his eyes and caught sight of the two outlaws standing over him. More horrifying was the image of a rifle thrust at Heath’s forehead.

“Recognize us, Loud Mouth?” Joe sneered, egging Clay on to join him in a laugh.

“What are you doing here?” Nick spat without moving a muscle. “Better yet how did ya find us?”

“Followed ya.” Joe stood from his crouching position, keeping his revolver trained on the dark-haired form eyeing him warily in a sidelong glance. “We was figurin’ a way to get to that Barkley money when we saw drivin’ out with your brother, here. Ya sure made it easy for us.”

“Haven’t you done enough already?” Nick snapped between teeth set in anger.

“We just wanted that money, Barkley. Your brother, here, he wouldn’t give it to us. It would have been easy to just fork it over but no, he had to be a hero. We was never intent on woundin’ him,” Joe explained.

“And now?”

“Same thin’. We was figurin’ on holdin’ ya for ransom. If ya play along there won’t be any blood shed. We hate killin’.”

“Can I sit?”

“Yeah but slowly. No sudden move now,” he warned, his eyes heeding Nick’s every move.

Nick glanced down at Heath and heaved a silent shuddering sigh of relief at the even breathing before turning to Joe. “If you followed us, how come ya didn’t show up last night?”

“Clay here had to send the wire to your family to ask for the ransom money. By now they must have got the message on what to do if they want ya back alive.”

“And ya think they’re gonna take the bait?”

“They’d better if they know what’s good for ya.”

Nick’s eyes were shooting daggers at the two men standing with a smirk that made his blood boil the lid off his fury. He felt it being unleashed and could hardly control its actions. The thought of Heath being in harm’s way doused the fire consuming him. He had to remain calm for his brother’s sake.

Then out of the blue a deafening crack of the whip rent the air, seizing Joe’s wrist and making him drop his gun in excruciating pain.

“Drop your weapon,” calmly ordered the stranger to Clay who stood rooted to the spot. Gulping nervously, Clay did as instructed, slowly laying his rifle on the ground. “Now step away from the rifle.” Training his six-shooter at the two dumbstruck men the stranger ordered them to step back to allow him room to check on Nick and Heath. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks. Whoever you are,” a stunned Nick said to the tall blond, blue-eyed man who smiled his response.

“Yeah, who the hell are ya?” Joe griped.

“It doesn’t matter. You won’t see me again and neither will I you. I expect you to get on those horses and ride back where you came from. I know who you are Joseph Elliot Gaines and Clayton Alan Curtis.” The two men exchanged a puzzled look at the mention of their full names.

“How…how d’ya know my full name?” Joe asked with a tinge of apprehension. “Nobody but my mama knew my middle name.”

“Go on! Leave! And do not return or you will not live to see another day,” the stranger threatened with fiery eyes that Joe swore could see turn ink black.

The two outlaws walked back to their mounts. Joe rummaged through his saddlebag for his butcher knife but was surprised to find it gone. He turned to Clay who reciprocated his worried frown.

“Don’t bother, gentlemen. I have your knives with me. You won’t need them with you if you do as I say and return where you belong.”

The stranger kept his gun trained on the two friends as they steered their horses toward the path leading down the mountain. Once they were safely out of sight, the saviour thrust his weapon in its holster and turned to Nick eyeing him distrustfully. “They won’t be bothering you anymore. Hi, I’m Paul,” he extended his arm to a wary Nick who hesitated before clasping the offered hand.

“Nick. Where d’ya come from?”

“I was riding along the mountain path when I saw you were in trouble.”

“Lucky for us you were passing by. Alone I could have taken those cutthroats but not with a rifle thrust at my brother’s face. I couldn’t chance it.”

“This is your brother?” Paul asked, pointing to Heath.

“Yeah. His name’s Heath.”

Paul crouched down beside the unconscious form, scanning it from head to toe before touching its forehead. At that instant, Heath opened his eyes. “Oops I guess I woke him.”

“No you didn’t. The doctors say he’s in some sort of coma. Can’t heard or see. He opens his eyes sometimes and stares into nothingness.”

“Shouldn’t he be in a hospital?”

“The hell with hospitals and doctors. They say his case’s hopeless. That it’s just a matter of days before he passes on. But I say he’ll be back.”

“You seem sure of that.”

“I know he’s in there. I know he can hear me.” Nick shifted his gaze toward the horizon to welcome the dawn of a brand new day. “See Heath. See that sunrise?” Nick wiggled himself into a sitting position before propping his brother against his shoulder. “I promised you that sunrise, didn’t I? There it is.”

Paul could see tears polling in the hazel eyes as the dark-haired brother sat contemplating the aurora with its shower of golden rays. Nick was gradually overcome by an oppressing tightening in his chest as he witnessed nature’s awakening in all its splendour. Regrets began assailing him as his mind roved back on those bewitching spectacles he missed sharing with his baby brother, sitting on the front porch, drinking coffee. Those were placid moments to count our blessings and offer thanks for the life that has been graciously bestowed upon us. Was it now too late to make amend for that lost time?

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Paul mused to Nick.

Nick nodded in agreement. “Even more so that my brother’s still alive to see it, in a manner of speaking.”

“He can see it, Nick. Look at his eyes.” Nick stretched his neck forward to take a peek at Heath’s expression, his own face instantly lighting up with elation at seeing the wonderment shining in his little brother’s baby blues. “Heath, can you see it?” Nick brushed his hand against his brother’s cheek with hope to elicit some response. “Look at me, Heath. Look at me,” he urged in a pleading tone, tears gushing out of his eyes when his little brother finally acknowledged his request, albeit with difficulty.

“Can you see me?” Nick quavered in anticipation. He cupped his brother’s head in his hands, tilting it toward him. “Heath, tell me you can see me.” Heath’s heavy blink was the only sign Nick’s heart needed to burst apart. “I knew it! You’re still in there, Little Brother. Come on, get out. Come back. I need ya,” Nick egged on, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Give him time,” Paul told Nick with a friendly hand on the shoulder. “You can tell he’s struggling.”

“This… this is the first real sign he’s given since he got this way,” Nick stuttered between gasps, his voice choked up with emotion.

“That’s encouraging.”

“I just knew coming here was the key to unlock that box. He’s coming out of there.” Nick cupped Heath’s face and searched his eyes. “Come on Little Brother, talk to me.”

“You two seem very close,” Paul observed from the look of deep admiration shining in Nick’s eyes.

“Close doesn’t even begin to describe it. Heath is like my lifeline. You cut it and I drift apart. I felt the life drained out of me the moment the doctor told me there was no hope; that he was to die.” He released his hold on the head and brushed back a loose lock of hair on Heath’s forehead. “I couldn’t accept it. I had to try something. That’s why I brought him here. It’s our special place. If he,” Nick faltered, gulping the emotional lump caught in his throat, “if he is to pass on then I wish it to be here.”

“But he’s not going to die.”

“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” Nick enthused with a sniffle.

“Trust me, Nick. Your brother is not going to die,” Paul accented the words with a persuasion that filled Nick with a sense of serenity.

A few miles down in the valley, a young messenger outstripped the wind to the Barkley ranch to deliver the ransom demand. He rapped on the front door just as Audra, Victoria and Jarrod were making their way to the dining room for breakfast.

“Who could that be at this hour?” Jarrod wondered as he stepped up to the front door to open it. “Alan? What brings you here so early?”

“Mr. Barkley, this urgent wire came for your family,” the young panting man said as he handed Jarrod the paper.

“Urgent?” Jarrod’s inner alarm sounded at the word, the fear of grim news regarding his brothers gripping him.

“What is it, Jarrod?” Victoria asked with concern.

“It’s a ransom note. Clay Curtis and Joe Gaines. They want five thousand dollars or they’ll kill Nick and Heath.” Victoria’s hand went to her mouth to stifle a gasp of horror. “They ask that the money be delivered this afternoon at Meadow Lark near the bridge. They want me to go alone.”

“How could they know where they are when we don’t?” Audra wondered.

“My guess is that they followed them. Then again it could be a set-up. Alan, do you know from where that wire was sent?”

“Some small town called Eakers. It’s a few miles south from here.”

“Yeah I know the place.” Jarrod set the wheels into motion, pondering the possibility of his brothers being held in the one-horse town. His mind pored over a mental map of the area, trying to pinpoint a likely hideout.

“Mother, can we have five thousand dollars before this afternoon?”

“I’ll go see Jay at the bank.” Jarrod grabbed his gun belt from the coat rack and buckled it around his waist. “Once I expose the situation I’m sure he’ll let me have the cash right away.” He scooped up his hat from the chair and kissed Victoria before heading out the door with Alan.

“But Jarrod, what if it is a set-up just to get their hands on the money?” Audra cautioned.

“After the bank I’ll drop by the sheriff’s office to discuss the best option.”

“Jarrod, please,” Victoria beseeched with imploring eyes, “be careful.”

“I doubt they’ll try anything. They need me to deliver the money. Besides, Alan’s with me. ” His reassurance wrung a strained smile out of the distraught mother.

Paul’s presence brought great comfort to Nick. Never would he have allowed a stranger to come this close to his baby brother, particularly now that he was so vulnerable. He watched him with Heath, marvelling at his gentle touch, which some would normally consider odd behaviour coming from such a rugged cowboy. The stranger would spoon-feed him water, encouraging him to sip it on his own. Heath’s expression was that of a child’s curiosity as he observed Paul’s every move, hung on his every word.

Nick felt confident enough to entrust Heath in Paul’s care while he hunted for small game a few yards away from the campsite. Once the dark-haired brother disappeared from sight, Paul walked over to the sleeping blond and squatted beside him.

“Nick is very special, isn’t he? I can tell you’re struggling to please him. You know he needs you, don’t you? And you need him. I sense there’s a strong connection, one that cannot be broken. It would be fatal for the surviving half.” He leaned closer to Heath’s face and whispered in his ear, “It’s too soon, Heath. Much too soon. You must return to him, to your family. You can do it, Heath. You can rise up from that dark abyss. Reach out to Nick, clung to that lifeline. He’ll guide you back safely.” He stood back and gazed at the sleeping face. “You’re stronger than you think.” He placed the palm of his hand against Heath’s forehead. “Goodbye, my friend. Have a nice life.”

With that said, Paul rose to his feet and walked over to his horse. With one fluid motion, he swung in the saddle and cast one last smiling glance at the slumbering form before kicking his mount at a light trot down the mountain.

Moments later Nick returned with two jackrabbits in hand that he proudly waved in the air. “Look at that! I’ve got…” his words hung in my air upon noticing Paul’s absence. A clutch of dread gripped him at the thought of the stranger having stolen the horses. He dropped his game onto the ground and dashed off to check the makeshift corral. He signed in relief at the sight of the two bays grazing. He then traced his steps back to his sleeping brother to check him over before making his way to the fire to start cooking the rabbits. ‘I wonder where he is?” Nick’s mind wondered, scanning the surroundings for any sign of Paul.

Upon arriving in town, Alan parted ways with his riding companion to head for the livery stables while Jarrod tethered Jingo in front of the bank. No sooner had he strode up the two wooden steps that Paul spoke to him. “Don’t go.”

Jarrod turned to the cowboy leaning ungainly against the doorframe, his hat hanging below one eye. He eyed him warily and with a quizzical frown, asked. “Are you addressing me?”

“Yes.” Paul raised his head up and stared Jarrod in the eyes. “Don’t do what they ask.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The two outlaws are not holding your brothers for ransom. It’s a hoax. They are both fine,” he explained with a disarmingly composed demeanour.

“Where are they?”

“Not far.”

“You’re working for them?” Jarrod implied with eyes narrowed in contempt, the mention of his brothers arousing his suspicions.

“If I were do you honestly think I would be here telling you not to bring the money?” Paul said sardonically.

“I assume not. Who are you?”

“A friend. Your brothers should be back soon. Go back home and wait for them.”

“You’re asking me to believe you? A total stranger?” Jarrod scoffed.

“Trust your instincts, Jarrod.” He tipped his hat and walked away, leaving a perplexed Jarrod behind to ponder his words. Before the lawyer could question him further the cowboy had vanished and was nowhere to be seen. Although it ran counter to Jarrod’s better judgment to readily believe a perfect stranger, something about the man filled him a strong sense of confidence and prompted him to listen to the dictates of his conscience. As if under a spell, Jingo bypassed the bank and went directly to the sheriff’s office.

Later in the afternoon, Clay and Joe were at Meadow Lark concealed behind rocks with their rifle at the ready to shoot Jarrod Barkley on sight once he made the drop by the bridge as instructed. It was way past deadline and still no sign of Jarrod.

“Joe, he ain’t comin’. Let’s forget it and head down to Mexico. They ain’t worth it.”

“Let’s give it a few more minutes.”

“Joe for Christ’s sake! You’re temptin’ fate. We was warned not to mess with Barkleys. We was lucky once to get off scot-free. I ain’t aimin’ to get caught twice. Not me. I’m leavin’. Stay if ya want.” He unhitched his horse from the tree and swung on its back, giving Joe once last glance. “Ain’t ya comin’?”

“Ya, I’m comin’,” Joe sighed in defeat. He walked to his horse, slid the rifle into its holster then rode away with Clay.

Up on a hill overlooking a greater part of the valley below Paul sat majestically on his mount, smiling contentedly at the two outlaws trotting towards the Mexican border. He shifted his gaze towards the mountain and said, “Your turn now.”

Nick was squatted by the campfire, poking the two jackrabbits with a branch that he placed over the flame to cook. He cast a glance at a slumbering Heath mummified in warm blankets before he went to the wagon to fetch some potatoes to accompany his meal.

He returned moments later to witness the sight of his little brother struggling to haul himself into a sitting position. Startled, he dropped his items on the ground and rushed to Heath’s side to ensure he wasn’t imagining this miracle. “Heath, can you hear me?” Nick gushed, his trembling hands taking firm hold of his brother’s head to look him straight in the eyes. “Heath?”

“Nick,” Heath groaned in pain. “Careful, my head.”

“Oh sorry.” Nick eased the head back onto the balled-up saddle blanket acting as a cushiony pillow. “Heath, you’re talking.” His ebullience could not be contained. “How you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a freight train,” Heath breathed out as his glassy eyes strived to establish his unfamiliar surroundings. “Where…where are we?”

“Our special place up in the mountains.”

“I remember. We came for the Christmas tree.” He turned to Nick and frowned at his disturbed look. “What? Is that what fell on me?”

“Euh…euh no,” Nick stammered as he pondered his next words to his obvious amnesiac brother. “Heath, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Heath wrinkled his brow in deep concentration. “Tree. We came up here to chop down the Christmas tree. Then nothing.”

“Ya mean to say ya don’t recall the shooting?”

“What shooting?”

“The bullet that put ya in a coma for three weeks, Little Brother.”

Heath stared at Nick quizzically. “Coma?”

Nick nodded. “Doctors gave up on ya. They told us ya weren’t gonna make it, but I knew diff’rent. I brought ya here hoping to unlock that iron box ya were trapped in.”

“I kept hearing a voice telling me that I had to fight. That I couldn’t give up.”

“That was probably mine.” At first sight of a tear trickling down his brother’s cheek, Nick reached out to the troubled soul with a friendly hand on the shoulder. “Hey, you’re back.” Nick’s grin hung on his ears. “ I knew ya were a stubborn cuss. Look at me, Heath.” Nick waited for a sign of acknowledgment before continuing, “You’re outta there, brother. You’re out of that dark box and back where you belong.”

Both hearts pounded in rhythm with the genuine love and adoration expressed in both hazel and blue eyes. The mutual gratitude needed not be spoken with words. If this miracle was a dream, then Nick preferred not be roused.

“Nick, tell me what happened.”

“All in good times, Little Brother. All in good times. Right now I’m gonna put meat on those bones of yours. Ya hungry for some jackrabbits?”

Heath cringed at the mere thought of food. “Maybe just some water for now. I don’t feel like my stomach can handle your cooking right now.”

“Are you mocking my delicious cuisine?” Nick asked with a hint of tease about his voice.

“Of course not,” Heath teased back with an elfish wink.

Nick cracked a smile at his brother’s witticism before rising to his feet to get the canteen. Finding it empty he made his way to the back of the wagon to one of the two barrels of water. While waiting for the container to fill up, Nick glanced heavenwards and with teary eyes and a heart bursting with joy he mouthed a silent ‘thank you’.

Back in Stockton, it was decided to form a posse to go after Joe and Clay. The men treaded carefully as they neared the bridge at Meadow Lark, heedful to remain well concealed behind thickets while Jarrod trotted the rest of the way to make the fake drop off. They waited patiently for signs of the two men coming to pick up the loot.

“Ahhhhhhhhh I think we’re too late. They must have smelled a rat when you didn’t show up on time,” Sheriff Madden griped to Jarrod hunched down next to him.

“I think that man was right.”

“What man?”

“The one who told me that my brothers were safe.”

“You believed him?”

Jarrod shrugged. “I don’t know. There was something about him. He told me to go home and wait for them to return.”

Madden shot an incredulous look at Jarrod lost in his thoughts. “Listen if you want to go back to the ranch we can handle it from here.”

“No,” Jarrod sighed resolutely. “I’m riding with you into Eakers.” With that said he stepped up to his mount and swung in the saddle.

“Jarrod maybe we should wait a few more minutes.”

“Fred if those men do have my brothers chances are they’ve gone back to kill them. We have to find them before they get to Nick and Heath. We’re wasting valuable time by waiting.”

Madden sighed in resignation. “Alright. Let’s go.” He beckoned his men to follow them.

A few hours wore on as Jarrod, Sheriff Madden and his men neared the town of Eakers.

“Wait!” Madden waved the posse to come to a halt and squinted to make out the wagon in the distance. “Let’s ask this fella if he saw our two men.” He spurred his mount into a gallop with Jarrod riding alongside.

“My God!” Jarrod exclaimed in shock upon identifying the driver. “It’s Nick.” He gave Jingo one good kick to hasten the pace towards the incoming wagon.

Nick broke into a Cheshire-cat grin at the sight of the riders. He craned his neck to the back of the wagon where Heath was lying on a heap of blankets “We have company, Little Brother.” He reined in the team and waved to Jarrod.

“Nick, you alright?” Jarrod asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” he beamed. “Look who’s back?” With a toss of the head he motioned to the back of the wagon.

Jarrod’s heart soared at the lopsided grin staring back at him. “Hey Jarrod. Long time no see.”

“Bro…Brother Heath,” Jarrod choked with emotion. “It’s good to see you awake.”

“Nick tells me I’ve been asleep for quite a while?”

“You gave us all a scare.” Jarrod turned to Nick who wrapped his arm around his shoulders to pulled him aside, while Fred and his men gathered around the wagon to welcome Heath back.

“Nick. It’s a miracle. How?”

“Don’t ask how. I think I might have gotten some help up there.”

“Where?”

“Up in the mountains. But never mind that.” Nick gripped Jarrod by the shoulders to stare him straight in the eyes. “Jarrod, Heath doesn’t remember anything.”

Jarrod frowned in puzzlement at Nick’s statement. “But he recognized me.”

“No, I mean he doesn’t remember what happened after we came back with the tree.”

“So he doesn’t know about the adoption?”

Nick’s toothy grin was self-explanatory. “We got our brother back, Jarrod.” He clenched Jarrod into an ebullient brotherly hug, clapping him on the back before pulling away to meet his brother inquisitive stare. “What?”

“You mentioned you had help?”

“Some man named Paul. He got rid of Gaines and Curtis.”

“You mean they were there?”

“Yeah. They followed us. They wanted a ransom.”

“Yes, I know. Actually that’s why we’re here. But they never showed up to pick up the money, fake money that is. That Paul, what did he look like?”

“Fairly tall, blond with blue eyes. Nice chap. He helped me keep a vigil on Heath. Then he left as mysteriously as he came.”

Jarrod sighed as he analysed Nick’s description of the man. “I think he’s the same man I met in town early this morning. He told me not to give in to the outlaws and to return home to wait for you. Strange.”

“You don’t think?” Nick threw Jarrod a wary glance, wondering whether he shared the same peculiar notion. “Nah! It was just the Barkley luck, right?” he asked unconvincingly, searching his brother’s eyes for confirmation.

“Right.” Jarrod replied on the same sceptical tone.

Epilog

Heath made remarkable progress over the next days. Aside from questions regarding the shooting that plunged him into a three-week coma he never pursued the matter further. He was raring to resume his work on the ranch but for now he had to restrain himself to light chores around the house. He spent considerable hours with Victoria helping her trim the roses in the garden where they would engage in casual conversation about everyday life.

Her heart was brimming over with joy at having her fair-haired son by her side. She never once broached the subject of Bea Shyer or anything that occurred thereafter, seeing how Heath had no recollection of that visit or the bombshell that she dropped on the family. The shooting had been a blessing in disguise for everyone concerned. She kept buried the family secret of Heath’s father and never again did she try to contact her friend that caused so much hurt to her family. She was grateful for the Divine Intervention that erased the memory of that day.