Nick shifted on the wagon seat for what seemed like the hundredth time since they started their trip. What this wagon needed was a few pillows, he thought. After each rest stop, it was tough to climb back into the wagon knowing how uncomfortable the seat was.

“Comfortable, Nick?” Jarrod teased.

“Hell, no, I’m not comfortable! Why do you think I’m shifting my backside every two minutes?” Nick grumbled. His ankle was hurting, and what started out as slow burn, was now a consistent throb.

“Just asked, little brother.” Jarrod knew they still had awhile to go before they arrived at the lodge. Heath and Mother should have arrived there by this time, he thought. But did they?

“I know and I’m sorry, Jarrod. I’m just worried and I can’t concentrate,” Nick tried to explain.

“Well, we’re about at the half-way mark now. Maybe we’ll take another stop to stretch our legs.”

“Okay, let’s get through this next turn. The roads in this area tend to be pretty wet because of that little brook not too far away. We can have the horses rest there.”

“Are we stopping, Nick?” Audra called from the back. “I’m bored back here.”

“Just hang on, Audra. We’re….” Nick stopped both his sentence and the horses so short that Jarrod almost fell out of the driver’s seat.

“Nick, what the…?!” Jarrod sputtered as he righted himself.

“Nick, why did….?” Audra called out.

“Shhh!!....both of you.” Nick pointed up ahead. Between the tree branches, a familiar wagon could be seen on its side. But more importantly, Nick clearly saw his mother talking with someone in convict clothing, who was pointing a rifle at her. To their advantage, the man’s back was to them. He could see Victoria wasn’t harmed, but was covered in mud. She was determinedly arguing a point, Nick could see, and that the man was actually listening. That’s good; they were distracted.

Nick’s eyes darted around the area. Where was Heath? His ankle burned; his stomach lurched. Something was very wrong.

Jarrod saw the wagon right away and gave his brother a look of both anger and dismay. Their premonitions had come true. Now what to do?

From where Audra sat, she couldn’t see the scene with her mother at all. She was too low in the back of the wagon. “What’s going…?” Audra started to ask. When her brothers motioned for her to be quiet, she whispered her question instead.

“What’s going on, Nick? Why did we stop here?”

“We’re not sure, Audra, but Mother is clearly in trouble. We need to see where Heath is, too.” Jarrod and Nick climbed down from the wagon, careful not to cause any undo movement. It was going to be hard to keep the element of surprise now; they were too close for that.

Both brothers motioned for Audra to get down in the wagon bed. “Stay down, Audra, and whatever you do, don’t follow us.”

Audra nodded her understanding. She admitted to herself that she was a little frightened, and was glad that her brothers were close by. She suddenly had a thought that caused her to clutch her stomach. Nick mentioned their mother, but that they hadn’t see Heath yet. She quickly said a silent prayer.

“Jarrod,” Nick whispered, “if the horses cooperate, maybe we can circle around the wagon and try to surprise him. It’s gotta be that Dixon animal! Dammit.”

“We don’t have many choices, Nick. Let’s try it.”

“Where’s our little brother?” Nick’s voice almost broke.

“We’ll find him. Let’s go.”

Nick and Jarrod both took their guns out, checked for ammunition, and started to maneuver their way through the brush. As they circled around to their left, which brought bring them on the side of the road facing the bottom of the now turned wagon, Nick saw a familiar boot sticking out from beneath the mud-encrusted wagon.

Nick stopped moving; he hunched down and thought he was going to vomit; his heart froze; his mouth became dry; he stopped breathing; his stomach churned. Oh, my God. Sweet Jesus in Heaven. Heath was pinned underneath the wagon!!

His rapid change in stature and movement forced Jarrod to stop behind him and hunch down as well. Jarrod’s brow furrowed as he voiced his concern. “Nick, are you alright?” he whispered.

Nick mouthed an emphatic, ‘No!,’ and he pointed with a shaky hand toward the wagon. Jarrod’s blue eyes followed Nick’s indicated direction, as he sat back on his heels and gasped at the sight.

Nick’s voice held the full anguish he felt. “Pappy, what do we do?”

A horse’s whinny caused Harry’s head to spin around. Someone was coming! He felt a trickle of fear race down his spine.

Before Victoria could pull back, Harry grabbed the small woman and held her against him. He pointed the rifle’s barrel at her head. Even at this awkward angle, a single rifle shot would kill her.

Nick and Jarrod looked at each other. Their eyes met; their decision was made. With this resolve, Nick felt strength flow back into his body. Nobody was going to stop him from getting to his mother and brother. He knew from looking in Jarrod’s eyes, that he felt the same way too.

“Whoever is there, come on out! I don’t wanna hurt anybody right now! But I will!” Harry shouted. The hope he had for a full escape was collapsing at his feet. The boy under the wagon once again started moaning, and his breathing was taking on a wet, raspy sound. Suddenly he had an idea.

“Leave me alone! Just go!” his grey-haired captive screamed.

As she protested, Harry hauled Victoria through the mud and to the side of the wagon where Heath lay. He moved his rifle from Victoria’s head and pointed it at the blond’s chest.

“I’ll put a bullet through this kid’s chest if you don’t come outta there!” Harry yelled. Victoria pulled and tugged at Harry’s grasp, but she couldn’t break free. The mud sucked her feet down. “No! No! He’s already hurt! Leave him alone!”

Jarrod tucked his gun into the back of his pants, out of sight of the unwelcome intruder. Nick held his gun in his hand, which rested against his hip. The two brothers stood tall; together they walked through the tree line and stopped short of where the road turned to mud.

“Throw your guns where I can see them!” Harry called out.

“You’re holding my mother,” Nick stated. He didn’t drop his gun. He didn’t yell; he didn’t have to. The forest had become remarkably quiet. Nick’s voice held an anger and a strength to it that Jarrod had never heard before. Jarrod felt a surge of pride for his younger brother.

“And you have a gun to my brother’s chest,” Nick continued. “I’m tellin’ ya this one time, so listen good. If you want to live past the next five minutes, walk away. If you want to die within the next five minutes, then so be it.”

Victoria looked up at Harry, whose face changed through several different emotions within seconds. First from fright, to anger, to jealousy, to hatred.

“I’m holding the cards, mister. I want the money your mother promised me. Once I have it, and some supplies, I’ll go.” The convict’s voice betrayed him. Harry was scared.

“I promised him $2,500 if he helped me get Heath out from under the wagon,” Victoria interjected.

“We can write you a bank draft,” Jarrod offered. “We don’t carry that amount of money on us.”

“Hell, I can’t walk into a bank and cash a draft! Whaddya think I am, stupid?!” Damn, damn, damn!!

For a moment, the only sound that was heard was Heath’s labored breathing.

“Well, how much do you have on you?” Harry asked breaking the silence.

“Between us, we probably have a few hundred.”

“We’ll give you whatever we have. Just take it and be on your way!” Victoria emphasized her offer by trying once again to pull herself out of Harry’s clutches. “Just go! Let us pull my son out from under the wagon before he dies.” She almost whispered the last part of her plea.

Nick stepped forward, his boots sinking in the fringes of the mud line. His gaze had never left Harry’s face. “I told you to make a decision between your life…or your death. Make it…Now.” Nick stood on the opposite side of the wagon. He knew if he could stretch his foot, his boot would touch his brother’s. He held up his gun and pointed it at Harry’s head….almost at point blank distance. His heart ached to look down at his brother, but he kept his concentration focused at the task at hand.

“I don’t wanna die, mister. I’m innocent. All I want is to get the money and supplies your mother promised and go.” He absolutely didn’t want to contend with this powerful force before him…the black clad man frightened him. Harry tried unsuccessfully to hide the involuntary shudder that coursed through his body.

Nick’s eyes bored into his adversary. Harry seemed to shrink under his scrutiny. “Jarrod, get this man whatever cash we have, and put him on a horse. Then get him outta here before I pull this trigger.” Nick’s voice was ice; his resolve firm.

Jarrod trudged through the mud over to where his mother was being held. “Let her go now, and I’ll get you whatever you want.”

Feeling cornered with very little options, Harry released his grip on Victoria. The mother of five instantly fell down to cradle Heath’s head in her hands. Even though Harry was still mesmerized with the Nick Barkely presence before him, he never moved the rifle away from Heath.

“Move away from my brother.”

“He’s so cold! His lips are turning blue!” Victoria’s energy was finally dying down. She took out her handkerchief and tried to wipe away some mud from her son’s face. A mother’s tears fell beside his head as Heath continued to shiver.

“No,” Harry said, but his voice didn’t have the conviction it held earlier. “No, if I do that, then I have no cards to play. Get me what I want first, and then I’ll go.”

Jarrod pulled out his wallet and took out a wad of bills. Nick reached into his vest to retrieve his wallet. He tossed it to Jarrod who promptly emptied it of his contents. “Mother, where is your purse?”

She looked up with tears running down her face. “I didn’t bring one with me. Heath held the money, but I know it’s in his pants pocket.” She turned back to her trapped son. “If that animal wants it, let him dig for it.”

“I’ll take what you got. How much is that?”

Jarrod quickly counted out the bills. “$550.” He handed it to Harry.

As Harry reached for the money, Jarrod took advantage of the man’s greed, and seized the rifle. Harry’s cash pot floated on the air as the two men fought for ownership of the gun. A strange battle ensued since both men’s feet were stuck in the mud, holding them hostage against any great movement.

“Drop it, or you’re dead.” The rancher’s voice was strong and even. Nick was at peace with what he knew was going to happen next.

“Drop it,” Nick repeated, his voice even.

“Go to Hell,” Harry spitted out. He continued to struggle with Jarrod for ownership of the rifle. With an angry grimace and uncaring eyes, Harry looked directly at Nick as he lifted his foot out of the mud, ready to stomp on the trapped man’s face. Victoria screamed.

Without any preamble, Nick fired his weapon. His eyes never blinked; his body didn’t tremble; he felt no fear; he felt no regret. “No, you,” he said almost as a prayer. Nick experienced a release that was cathartic.

Harry’s eyes grew wide as he felt the bullet burn a hole in his chest. He looked down and saw a growing red stain on the front of his shirt. “Ah, Hell is a good place for me.” Still clutching the rifle, he fell back, causing Jarrod to lose his balance and practically fall on top of him.

In an instant, Nick re-holstered his gun, turned and made his way deftly around to the front of the wagon. Hazel eyes were filled with the sweet sight of his younger sibling. Hatred was immediately replaced with angst.

“Heath! Heath! Can you hear me, boy?! We’re going to get you outta there!” Nick’s size caused him to sink deep into the mud as he struggled to get to his beloved brother.

“JARROD!” Nick cried.

“Let me get our unwanted guest out of the way first, Nick.” Jarrod paused. “From his clothing, it appears that he is the convict that escaped from Tamarack Prison.”

“Good riddance,” Nick mumbled.

“His breathing has gotten progressively worse,” Victoria lamented softly. She caressed her blond son’s hand. “He’s so cold.”

Nick kneeled down beside Heath. He placed one hand on his brother’s cheek and ran his other hand through the blond hair. “He has a fever, too. When did this happen?”

“About four hours ago.” Victoria looked at Nick with a sorry gaze.

“His breathing is labored because of the wagon’s weight pressing down on him. Don’t worry. We’ll have him out of here in no time.” Nick gave his mother a reassuring smile and then, turned toward his older brother.

“C’mon, Pappy!”

Jarrod finished pulling Harry off to the side and hurried back. “Mother, Audra is still in the wagon. She’s probably a little frightened and anxious about the gun fire. Can you let her know what’s happened? Nick and I will get Heath out.”

“I don’t want to leave him.” Victoria continued to stroke her son’s mud dried hand. She felt exhausted.

“I know you don’t, but Nick and I need room to work. We also need you to set up something for us to place him on. There are dry blankets and supplies in the wagon.” Jarrod reached out and held his mother’s arm. “Please, Mother!” Dark blue eyes pleaded logic to his anguished mother.

“Okay, okay,” Victoria conceded. She saw the common sense in the requested action. Victoria took comfort in the fact that her whole family was together as they dealt with this crisis. She sluggishly made her way out of the mud toward the wagon her children had brought. She was so tired; her legs and muscles ached. All she wanted was for this nightmare to end.

Victoria glanced back as she reached the top of the rise, and saw that Jarrod and Nick worked in concert to get the last of the heavy items out of the wagon bed. In a few minutes, her two eldest sons had accomplished what would have taken her hours. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. Thank God they decided to follow us so closely, she thought.

Victoria hurried to the second wagon. “Audra! Audra! Are you there?”

“Mother!” Audra jumped from the wagon and ran into her mother’s warm embrace. She patted and rubbed her mother’s back to provide the obviously needed comfort. Victoria trembled slightly.

Once they parted, Audra started firing questions which had plagued her while she hid.

“Mother, are you okay? Where’s Heath? I heard a shot. Please don’t tell me one of the boys is hurt!!”

“No, the boys didn’t get shot. But the man who escaped from Tamarack prison is dead.” Victoria paused. “Nick defended us,” she said proudly.

Audra wrapped her arms around her mother’s shoulders. “Where’s Heath?” she asked softly.

“Your brothers are getting Heath out from under the wagon now.”

“Under the wagon!” Audra’s voice was strident, feeling instantly afraid for her brother. “Is he okay? How did it happen?”

“He’s not good. I’ll explain everything later. What we need to do now is get as many blankets as you have, and start a campsite. Heath’s going to need a lot of care, and we need to be ready for him as soon as your brothers bring him out.”

As Audra turned back to the wagon, Victoria grabbed her daughter’s arm, and spun her around into a tight hug.

“I love you, darling.”

“I love you, too, Mother.”

Jarrod and Nick worked furiously to pull the last of the burdensome items from the broken wagon. Once done, Nick, being the stronger of the two, positioned himself next to the wagon and braced his legs in the mud as best he could.

Jarrod knelt down next to his mud-caked brother and pulled away as much mud as he could from the side of Heath’s body. He then situated himself by the blond’s head in order to get a proper grip around Heath’s chest. Jarrod knew that the mud held suction on his brother’s cold form, so it was going to be a hard pull to get him out.

“Are you ready, big brother?”

Jarrod positioned himself again, and tightened his grip. “Yes, go ahead!”

Nick’s adrenalin rush helped him lift the wagon higher than he thought he was going to be able to, giving Jarrod plenty of room to pull Heath free. He thought that the burning in his ankle was going to hinder his actions, but to the contrary, it only fueled his determination to free his younger brother. Oddly, it wasn’t hurting as much anymore anyway.

At first, the mud didn’t want to liberate its victim, but then like a cork release (pop!), Jarrod slid his blond sibling out from under the newly painted wagon. He lifted his brother’s battered body to rest against his chest. He softly caressed Heath’s fevered cheek, and felt his labored breathing and shivering body.

“Is he out?” Nick called back as his muscles strained.

“Yes, he out!” Nick lowered the wagon with a grunt and turned back toward to his two reclining brothers.

“He’s unconscious?” Nick asked.

“Either that or close to it. His hands are cold, but his face is fevered. We need to get him out of these muddy clothes and into some nice warm blankets.” Jarrod looked down at his younger brother’s face; a face that somehow held a serene look despite his horrific ordeal. Jarrod inwardly sighed; this man was so dear to him. It was hard to accept that he had suffered for four hours. Four hours…..

“Mother! Audra!” Nick’s voice boomed through the forest.

Audra ran to the top of the rise and called down to the broken wagon. “We have a camp set up over here, Nick! We have a bed ready and we have a fire going! Is he free?”

“He’s out! We’ll bring him there in a minute!” Audra signaled okay and ran back to the makeshift camp.

Nick crouched down and took his little brother’s face in his hands. Heath’s face had a fine sheen to it; the fever was taking hold.

“Heath! Heath, can you hear me? It’s Nick. Open those baby blues for me. C’mon, you can do it!! You’ve been laying around here long enough, boy! I leave you alone for a few hours, and see the trouble you get yourself into!”

Somewhere down deep, Heath heard his beloved big brother’s voice. He fought his way to the surface. Nick was here? Nick would get him out! He had to reach him, and let him know that he desperately needed him.

Softly, almost reverently, Heath whispered his brother’s name. “Ni-i-ckk?”

“I’m here, bro. I’m here!” Nick was pleased that at least Heath heard him. Nick looked up at Jarrod for a second and saw a relieved smile on his face as well.

“It’s heav-y-y, Nick. Can….get….off….me?”

“We pulled you out already,” Jarrod answered.

“Jar-r-rrod?”

“Yes, I’m here, too. You’re going to be just fine.” Jarrod’s tone was quiet and tender.

“Off?”

Nick sighed. “Yes, it’s off of you, little brother. Just relax. Let Jarrod and I do all the work, okay?”

“Ni-i-c-kk.....don’t go far, ‘kay?”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, little brother. Not without you, anyway.”

Nick looked over Heath’s body and ran his expert hands down his legs. He knew instantly that the ankle was broken by the way his boot was tilted. He saw, and felt, Heath’s right hip had been dislocated. Damn. That meant moving him was going to be a harder task. Heath moaned as Nick’s hands examined his tortured body.

“Take it easy, Heath. I just have to see where you’re hurt.”

Heath tried to bat away his brother’s hand, but Jarrod caught it. “What do you see, Nick?”

“I feel a broken ankle, a possible hip dislocation, broken ribs, and probably a ton of bruises.” Nick shook his head. “I’m worried about how we’re going to move him.”

Jarrod chewed his lip. The injuries were what he was expecting, but hearing Nick’s explanation, made it all the more real.

“The hip is the real problem?”

“Yeah. But I think it can be popped back in, as long as the other bone, the pelvis? Is that what’s called? Isn’t broken.”

Nick sat back on his heels as best as the mud would allow. “First things first. Let’s figure out a way to get him out of this mud and up to the camp that Mother and Audra have set up.”

Together, the brothers decided that the best way to move Heath was to place him onto a blanket, and then pull the blanket over to the edge of the mud line. This would prevent them from losing their footing in the brown muck and avoid any further jarring to Heath’s injuries.

Once they were on solid ground, each brother took a side of the blanket and carried their blond brother up to the camp. Heath gasped and moaned in pain during the process. Now that the weight of the wagon was off of him, full circulation was returning and his injuries were starting to make themselves known.

“Nnn-i-ick….”

“I’m here, little brother. I’m here. Just stay still. We’re getting you to a nice dry bed that Mother and Audra put together for you.”

“Mo-th-er, okay?

“Yeah, she’s okay. So is Audra. Just relax.”

“Stay cl-o-s……’kay?”

Nick looked over at Jarrod. “Yeah, we’re stayin’ close, aren’t we Jarrod?”

“Of course, Brother Heath! We’re here and you are going to be just fine.”

Victoria, changed out of her wet and muddy clothes, felt refreshed. She wanted to be ready to care for her injured son. Mother and daughter had put together quite a campsite. A comfortable bed for Heath was lovingly prepared; a roaring fire, and hot water and coffee already on.

“How is he?” Audra asked. She looked down at her muddy brother as Nick and Jarrod lowered their precious cargo onto his make-shift bed. She bent down to stroke his forehead.

“He’s in a bad way right now,” Nick explained. “Mother, his ankle is broken, and I think he dislocated his hip. He’s very cold, but also has a fever.” Heath’s breathing was still labored.

Victoria looked at her semi-conscious son and thought over a few options. “If you boys concur, I think Jarrod should ride and get Dr. Merar. He’s too injured to even put in a wagon right now. In the meantime, we’ll clean him up and get him warm.”

“I agree,” said Nick. “But I also think Audra should go with Jarrod. She can….”

Audra cut him off. “I don’t want to leave! I want to stay here with Heath.”

“Audra, listen to me. Nick is right. We can ride together for most of the trip, but then we can split off. I’ll go into Stockton to get Howard, and you can return to the ranch. Alert Silas of what is needed when we bring our brother home.” Jarrod gave his sister a sympathetic look. “We know you want to stay, but there really isn’t anything you can help with here, and we do need to get things ready back at the house.”

Audra sighed. “Okay, but I’m going to be worrying like crazy until all of you arrive home.”

Victoria hugged her daughter. “Thanks for understanding, sweetheart. We’ll see you tomorrow midday.”

“Before you go, Jarrod, help me remove his muddy clothes.” Nick had already started cutting off Heath’s shirt and vest.

“C’mon dear,” Victoria took Audra’s arm and steered her toward the horses. “While they undress your brother, help me get the horses from the turned wagon ready to go.”

Nick labored carefully to cut off Heath’s pants without hurting him. It proved to be a difficult task because of the dislocated limb; the trousers had been holding the femur motionless. Nick knew that removing the natural binding was going to cause Heath additional pain, but he had no choice. Nick’s rough hands worked gently in partnership with Jarrod’s uncalloused ones to discard the muddy clothes.

Heath felt a distant agony; he thought he heard his brother’s voices as he struggled to find them. Where was he? The wagon was off of him? Why did he still hurt so much? Why was he still so cold?

As he struggled toward consciousness, the world started to gain light. His eyelids fluttered as he strained to open them. Pain flooded back into his body; nausea swept through him and he suddenly felt the bile rise.

“Ni-i-ckkk, sick….”

“Jarrod, hurry!” Nick and Jarrod turned him onto his uninjured side as gently as they could, sacrificing a blanket to help him release the contents of his tortured stomach.

“Okay, Heath, okay. Nick and I are here. Just let it go.” Jarrod’s soothing voice helped Heath relax.

“Heath, boy, want some water?” Nick asked in a gentle voice.

Heath’s head was spinning; he was so nauseous. He sipped the offered liquid, letting Nick hold his head for support. “Just a little, Heath, slowly. You’ll get sick again if you drink too much.”

Heath’s head lolled when he had enough to drink. Nick gently placed his head down.

“Jarrod, let’s get that sheet wrapped around his hips as tight as his pants were. Otherwise, that bone may move even more.”

“Okay, Nick, got it…..go ahead.”

Heath’s scream pierced the hushed afternoon as Nick pulled the last of the tan pants away from his hip and Jarrod worked to bind the dislocated bone.

“Sorry, little bro, sorry. Just need to get you undressed and warmed up. Stay with us….you’re doing fine.”

”M’okay.” Heath reached his hand out for his brother, his eyes tightly shut. He tried to control the dizziness and queasiness that had overtaken him. Nick grabbed his brother’s hand and held it hard.

Mindful that Heath was still mostly unclothed, Victoria called over from where she and Audra were tending the horses, her voice filled with worry.

“What’s going on?”

“He’s okay, Mother. Just getting him undressed. You know how modest our younger brother is!” Nick tried to make light of a hurtful situation. “I’ll call you when he’s covered.”

Soon, Heath was bundled up in sea of blankets, cleaned as well as Victoria could get him, and resting somewhat comfortably. His body still shivered but not as much as earlier, and the fever seemed to have stabilized. He fell into a fitful sleep after acknowledging goodbyes from Jarrod and Audra.

With Heath dozing, his chest and ankle once again elevated, Victoria and Nick took a much needed break at the fire.

“I should have waited until I knew the roads were dry,” Victoria lamented.

“I should have heeded my instinct that the two of you shouldn’t have taken this trip alone.” Nick looked at his mother.

“Another premonition?”

“Yes.”

“How long ago?”

“Long enough. My ankle was burning at the time that Heath broke his.” Nick’s gaze turned to the fire and poked at it, needing his hands to be busy.

Victoria stood and walked over to her blond son, and caressed his cheek and forehead with her hands. His fevered face melded into the touch, welcoming the comfort. She then walked over to her middle son, and gave him a hug from behind. Nick’s hands reached up to hold onto his mother’s arms.

“You two are certainly connected. Thank God for that.”

Dr. Merar and his wife were just getting ready to go to bed when Jarrod knocked on their door.

“Sorry to ask for your help at this time of night, but Howard, we need you right away. Please pack an overnight bag; we have to travel for several hours.” Anxious and insistent, Jarrod talked in a rush. He had already stabled his horse at the livery, and was waiting for two fresh horses to be readied.

Dr. Merar didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely, Jarrod, take a breath and come in. Please.” Dr. Merar almost pulled Jarrod into the house, and pointed to a nearby chair. “Take a seat, and tell me what’s happened.”

“While you two are talking, I’ll gather you some food for your trip.” Helen Merar smiled to Jarrod and disappeared into the kitchen.

“What happened?” Dr. Merar asked again. “I need to know what to bring.”

“A fully loaded wagon fell on Heath. He was pinned underneath it for about four hours. The same ankle that was bruised is now broken, his ribs are damaged again, and his right hip seems to be dislocated.”

“Where did this happen?”

Jarrod rubbed his hand over his face. He felt the stubble of a new beard. “On a trail up to our lodge. The only saving grace was that the wagon fell on Heath in a muddy part of the trail.” Jarrod paused to gather his thoughts. “He was in and out of consciousness while we worked to free him.”

“How about his temperature? Any fever?”

Jarrod shook his head wistfully….Dr. Merar certainly knew his patients; maybe Heath more so than others. It certainly did seem that his blond brother had visited the surgery one too many times since coming to the Valley. “You know Heath, Howard. Yes, he’s started a fever. He was cold as ice when we pulled him out.”

“Probably from laying in the mud all that time.” Dr. Merar surmised. His bag was almost ready.

“Who is up there with him?” Dr. Merar asked after a moment’s thought.

“Mother and Nick.”

Dr. Merar nodded absently as he mentally prepared himself for the situation before him. “You can fill me in on the details as we ride up there.”

“I have two horses waiting at the livery.”

Dr. Merar picked up his medical bag and saddle bags that housed some extra provisions, grabbed his coat and hat, and followed a sorrowful Jarrod out the door.

Helen Merar met the men on the front porch, kissed her husband, and watched them walk down to the street. Jarrod looked exhausted. She sighed. Those Barkley boys sorely needed more diligent guardian angels.

Victoria and Nick stayed by Heath’s side as he struggled through the pain of his injuries and apparent illness. Laying in the cold mud for hours had caused the debilitated man to succumb to a chest infection, something that Heath’s past made him susceptible to.

“Mother, get me those cut pieces of cloth over there, please,” Nick requested. He was holding Heath’s bruised body up against his chest, giving his brother some relief from the small water tide that was filling his lungs.

“C’mon Heath, I gotcha. Cough it up!” The tall rancher held onto his younger brother as he encouraged him to let go of the mucous filling his nose and lungs. He reached for a small square cloth.

“Can’t….tired.”

“Don’t sass me, boy. Cough it up I said!”

“Nick….don’t hafta.…yell.”

“Then c’mon, little brother. Get rid of it…cough….now!”

Nick rubbed and patted Heath’s back gently to help the phlegm move, mindful of the sore ribcage. Heath coughed as best as his ribs would allow, clutching Nick’s arm in the process. The rancher was rewarded with a cloth full of mucous. Totally spent, Heath laid his head back against Nick’s shoulder, as they both took a much-needed rest.

Victoria brought him the requested cut square cloths and touched his shoulder. Nick looked up at the silver haired lady and shook his head.

“Get some sleep, Mother. I’ll wake you when Dr. Merar gets here.”

“Are you sure?” Victoria took one of the cloths and gently wiped the perspiration off Heath’s face. His breathing had improved, she noted.

“Yes, I’ve got things under control. Little brother here is going to do a little more coughing and then we’ll try and get some sleep, too.”

“Okay, son, please wake me if you need anything.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Victoria laid down on her bedroll, and closed her eyes. She started to drift off to sleep despite the two brothers’ soft bantering. Heath was in the most loving and capable hands she knew of. She felt a moment of relief as she fell asleep.

But the water was rising again, and Heath struggled to breathe through the murky liquid. He gagged and gurgled against the thick tide that caused him to lose his breath. For a moment, Heath panicked against the tightness in his chest, and the inability to take a deep breath. The thick, gooey substance continued to grow.

"NICK! Where?.....”

"I’m here, little brother, I won’t let go..." Nick rubbed the back of his feverish sibling, getting ready to encourage another round of coughing to loosen the sticky phlegm.

“’kay, Nick…..thanks.”

“You’ll thank me if all this coughing prevents a bad infection. Okay, Heath, one more time!”

Another small victory had Nick retrieving another wad of mucous. Exhausted, Heath reclined back into his brother, and instantly started to take on the even breaths of sleep. Once again, his breathing had improved.

Nick felt Heath’s forehead and cheek, and was pleased to see that the fever had not risen higher since the last time he checked. The shivering had diminished as well. Coughing out the mucous had definitely helped.

Nick let himself relax, too. God, he was tired.

In his mind, Nick was following his older brother’s movements. He should have arrived in Stockton by now and be back on the road with Dr. Merar. Audra should also have reached the ranch.

Nick knew that once Heath’s hip was popped back into place, he would experience a tremendous relief. Nick recalled the only other time he had witnessed a hip dislocation, and that was when Charlie Turner busted his body instead of the bronc he was trying to ride. He had been thrown from the horse and hit a fence pole with a loud snap. The doctor had relocated the hip, but because ole’ Charlie’s pelvic bone shattered, the man experienced a lifetime of disability.

Nick grimaced. Could the wagon have done the very same damage? He hoped not. Just the hip dislocation itself was enough to cause Heath a long recovery.

He rested against the wheel of the unbroken wagon, with Heath still reclining against him. He turned his head to look up at the night sky. The stars were bright and twinkling. He thought of the classic children’s poem,

Star light, star bright, First star I see tonight.
I wish I may, I wish I might, Have a wish I wish tonight.

Nick found himself making a wish to the brightest star in the dark sky.

I wish for my little brother to be okay;
I wish that Jarrod and Dr. Merar will arrive soon;
I wish that I listened more closely to my instincts;
I wish that this had never happened.
I wish…I wish….I wish….I wish….

Nick closed his eyes and listened to his brother’s soft labored breathing, and knew that he should get him to cough up the building phlegm once again. But since they were both so tired, Nick allowed Heath another minute of respite.

Thinking back to when his beloved little brother had first joined the family, Nick remembered that he couldn’t imagine what life would have been like with him. Now, he couldn’t imagine life without him. He had prayed and wished for a special little brother to these very stars when he was just a boy. He chuckled to himself. Yes, indeed, prayers and wishes do come true.

Nick brushed his hand through his brother’s mud encrusted hair and bent down to give him a kiss on the top of his forehead. “You’re going to be fine, Heath, you’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” The rancher whispered his thoughts out loud.

Nick looked up again at the stars and relaxed in the beauty and stillness of the night. How many times did he and Heath camp out and enjoy such evenings as this? Talking and laughing; enjoying each other’s company. He wanted so much for those times to happen again.

Just as Nick thought that he should rouse his slumbering brother for another coughing exercise, he heard the sound of approaching hoof beats.

Victoria, awakened by the approaching hoof beats, rose to offer greetings. ‘Thank God, she thought. Jarrod and Howard have arrived.’ She pulled a blanket around her shoulders to ward off the nighttime chill and started to walk toward the trail.

“Mother!” Nick called. “Please stay over here!” He glanced down at his reclining brother and was suddenly worried. The precious bundle he held was too ill to be subjected to any further trauma. He knew that the time for Jarrod and the physician to arrive was getting close. But he felt a gnawing in his gut that something wasn’t right…recalling the fact that he wished to have listened to his instincts better, he yielded to his intuition and erred on the side of caution.

“Why? It’s probably just Jarrod and Howard.”

“We don’t know that yet. Please, over here, Mother!” ‘I hope it’s Jarrod and Dr. Merar.’

Hearing the trepidation in her son’s voice, Victoria’s demeanor changed from relaxed to apprehensive, as the horses grew nearer. If it wasn’t Jarrod or Howard, who could it be?

“Whoa, the camp!” yelled one of the riders. Nick’s heart jumped. It wasn’t a voice that he was familiar with.

Nick extricated himself as his brother’s pillow and gently laid the blond down on the bedroll. Heath moaned as his position was changed, but otherwise continued his healing slumber.

Nick signaled for his mother to stay behind him, as he picked up his pistol and cocked it ready. “Stay with him,” he whispered. Victoria sat down by her sleeping son. She picked up the rifle that had been laying under the wagon, and checked it for ammunition. Good, she thought, fully loaded.

“Come into the camp slowly!” Nick answered.

The sound of the approaching horses changed from a fast trot to a slow walk. At least the would-be visitors were complying with Nick’s request.

“We saw your fire a ways back, and thought you could help us,” the first rider said. His manner wasn’t friendly, but direct and to the point. Nick noticed a long, jagged scar down his left cheek. The man had seen action in his day.

“Who are you?”

The second rider spoke up this time. “We’ve been deputized to hunt for an escaped convict, Harry Dixon. We’ve tracked him to this area, but lost his trail. Have you seen him?”

“I’ll ask again, who are you?” Nick’s voice remained stern.

The first rider spoke. “I’m Cort.” He pointed to his partner. “This here’s Swain.”

Victoria stood and took a few steps closer to her tall, dark son. “These are the bounty hunters that came upon our turned wagon earlier,” she said with contempt. “They wouldn’t help me.”

Nick nodded, grateful for the information. He waved his hand indicating to Victoria to stay back. The tiny woman complied and knelt down beside her injured son. Without the aid of being elevated, Heath was having trouble breathing. He was starting to wake up as Victoria bent down to caress his face.

“You’re tracking a convict at this time of night?” Nick was actually surprised to see them riding unnecessarily in the dark.

“Well, now that’s our business, aint’ it?” Cort’s voice was tight.

Swain continued the thought. “We couldn’t sleep.”

Nick contemplated his next move and made his decision.

“Is there a bounty on this guy?” Nick asked, though he already knew the answer.

The two bounty hunters looked at each other before Cort answered.

“Yeah, $500. Why you askin’? What’s it to ya?”

“Well, now. That’s very interesting.” Nick walked slowly toward the bounty hunters. He stopped a few feet short of the horses’ noses. “The body will be turned over to the authorities.” Pause. “The reward is mine.”

Both temporary lawmen had looks of shock on their faces as they fired their questions. “Whaddya mean the reward is yours?” “The body?” “You killed him?” “Where is it?” “You sure it’s him?”

Nick raised his hand indicating them to be quiet. “Harry Dixon is laying under a blanket over by the side of that overturned wagon. The details of his death are not important.” Nick indicated the wagon’s direction with his gun.

“My brother went through hell because he was trapped under that wagon for four hours in the cold mud. According to my mother, she asked for your help and you blatantly refused.” Nick let that last statement linger before he continued.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t drop you two right now for refusing to assist in his rescue?” Nick stood his full height, and in his mud covered black clothing, he made a formidable impression. He kept his gun pointed, and placed his left hand on his hip.

Cort and Swain leaned back in their saddles. Uncertainty and fear slid through their bodies. This was not the situation they hoped to find themselves in when they came upon the campsite. This man was obviously a force to contend with, and one that neither man had the courage to stand up to.

Swain stammered his answer. “We really didn’t know about your brother, mister, we was just lookin’ for the escapee is all.” He pushed his hat back on his head, indicating his willingness to back down. “Is he okay?”

Cort snorted. He was fearful but not ready to lose the bounty. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, mister. Hope your brother is okay.” He paused. “About the body, if we take it back for you, would you split the reward?” Half was better than nothing.

Nick was livid. “My brother would have been rescued a lot sooner if you had just taken a few moments to help.”

“Mister, we had an escaped convict to find! I don’t have to answer to you.” Cort was wary of this man, but he was getting angry. “Didn’t you hear us before? We’d been duly deputized to find an escaped murderer! We don’t have time….”

Swain cut him off. “Cort, let it go. It’s done.” He was angry that they lost the money, too. His pocket had a hole in it that the bounty was supposed to fill. But the man was right; they could have stopped to help.

“Before I change my mind, ride out of here now and don’t look back. The reward is mine and I won’t share it with you two low-down hooligans. By turning your backs on my brother and mother, you also turned your back on me.” Nick’s voice was even and steady.

“We deserve that reward!” yelled Cort. “We’ve been trackin’ that scoundrel for almost a week! We deserve somethin’ for our time and effort!” He was wary of the force before him, but he still wasn’t quite ready to lose his money.

“I’m tellin’ you that I’m keepin’ the reward. You can try and negotiate with the prison authorities if you want to. I really don’t care.”

“Look, mister, we rode in here just lookin’ for information,” Swain looked sheepishly over at this partner. “Let’s go and forget the whole thing. We won’t get nuthin’ anyway.”

Cort decided that the bounty was worth the risk and he wanted Dixon’s corpse. He was a fast draw. He felt a false confidence that he could take out this arrogant cowboy as he reached for his gun.

Swain saw what his so-called partner was ready to do, and swore under his breath. All he wanted was the bounty, but he didn’t want to die for it. As Cort reached for his gun, Swain sadly accepted his fate and reached for his, too.

...Continued