The morning passed quickly and Victoria leaned against a tree, listening intently as Heath pointed out the immediate problems his quick eyes picked up to the Head Master and one of the Board Members. When the idea of perhaps involving the gentle man with the orphanage came to her last night, she’d known instantly it was perfect. From her sons’ descriptions of the care and skill used to build his ranch, she knew the community would benefit from his skillful hands and talent. The community would see the blond as a man with a talent for building and hopefully it would put the label he’d carried since birth into the background.

“Take some doing but it’d be worth it.” sighed Heath, his eyes studying the building again. “If there was a fire or something, it’s dangerous not to have another exit other than the windows. Jumping from two stories can hurt or kill someone.”

John Timmons listened carefully and nodded, his eyes turning to look at the building he was in charge of and the children entrusted to his care. The older man knew who the blond was from his name and description. The whole town was whispering and the gossip mongers’ tongues were wagging so much, they hung down to the floor. The suggestions made by this new member to their community and the prominent Barkley family were well thought out and solid.

“You’re correct, Mr. Thomson. The second and third exit must be done right away. How many men do you think we’d need for this project?” worried Timmons running over the finances of the orphanage in his mind. So many other things were needed, clothes and shoes, school books and supplies, food for the children. “We’d have to do a cost analysis first to decide how much of our funds will have to be used. I’m afraid we don’t have a lot of extra money to spend on upkeep.”

“We could have another fund raiser, John.” suggested Victoria. “Either a dance or carnival? The safety of the children and your staff are of the utmost importance. I’ll speak with Nick and perhaps some of the ranch hands could help with the work.”

“The children are our first priority.” agreed Timmons absently, his mind cringing at the thought of the meager budget they’d manage to survive on in the past. “We need to ensure they are kept safe in case of a disaster. Victoria, I appreciate you’re offer of speaking to Nick but wouldn’t your ranch suffer if men were pulled away?”

“I could do it, Mrs. Barkley.” stated Heath quietly, shifting on his feet at the two sets of eyes studying him. The sudden need to feel the satisfaction and calm working with wood brought him urged Heath to make the offer. “Mr. Timmons, I could take care of the exits and building the staircase.”

Glancing at Victoria, John Timmons smiled at the look of pride in her gray eyes which sparkled with happiness.

“That is most generous of you, Mr. Thomson.” replied the older man. “Won’t you be needed on the ranch?”

“I can do both, Mr. Timmons. Mornings at the ranch and afternoons here. This way, neither loses out.” answered Heath quickly, his eyes meeting the gray eyes of the tiny woman and receiving a slight nod from her.

Holding out his hand, John Timmons’ smile was friendly and honest, “Your generosity is most welcome, Mr. Thomson. We are indebted and will help in anyway we can.”

Heath’s hesitation was only for a slight moment before he took the older man’s hand in his and nodding. Victoria watched and felt the hope rising in her at the exchange between the two men, forty years apart in age and both born into the world without knowing their fathers.

She relaxed inside knowing for the moment, Heath Thomson, her husband’s son would be staying in Stockton, staying in their home. For he was a man of his word and he wouldn’t leave without finishing the task he promised to handle.

Saying their good-byes, Heath looked over at the small woman and sighed, “Boy howdy, do you think Silas has any cotton balls in his cupboards?”

“Whatever for, Heath?” puzzled Victoria.

“For the loud protests of Nick tonight, ma’am and his reminders of how it’s a working ranch.” winked Heath, flashing a lop-sided smile at the sound of her laughter.

“I might join you in raiding Silas’ cupboard.” teased Victoria as they started back to the ranch, the excitement of the blond reaching out across the gap between their horses and bringing a twinkle to his eyes which had been missing the past weeks.

It was late afternoon when Heath reached up and helped Victoria from the saddle before grabbing the reins of the horses, leading them into the barn. Victoria leaned on the stall door watching as his sure hands made short work of unsaddling the horses and grooming the mounts. The twinkle in the blue eyes faded after they’d changed direction and headed to Stockton after leaving the orphanage.

The town was buzzing with citizens hurrying like small ants rushing from one destination to another, anxious to finish their shopping or chores, scurrying about in an orderly fashion. Riding beside the prominent woman, Heath watched her expression as more than once person stared openly as they rode down the street, side by side. Feeling his eyes on her, Victoria glanced sideways and smiled at her husband’s son, the reassurance in her eyes alleviating some of his discomfort. Her inner strength increasing his and he relaxed slightly, giving her a shadow of a smile in response.

“Why don’t we see if your brother would like to join us for lunch?” posed Victoria turning her horse and stopping in front of Jarrod’s office. Heath jumped down and helped her from the saddle, following in her wake as she entered the building.

“Good morning, Helen.” stated Victoria politely, greeting the middle aged woman behind the desk who was more than capable at her duties but her strong righteous views and harsh personality grated on her nerves. "Is Jarrod free for a moment?”

“Mrs. Barkley.” acknowledged the woman whose cold looks were extremely intensified by the dark rimmed glasses and tauntly pulled back hair, the bun piled high on her head, no strand out of place. The dress with the high starched collar looked as if it could scratch and draw blood as it moved against skin, but it seemed to fit the matronly woman behind the tidy desk. “He has a client with him right now but it should only be a few minutes til he’s free.”

“We’ll wait.” replied Victoria catching Heath’s study of the outer office. “Oh, I’m sorry. You two haven’t met yet. Helen Frankle, this is my stepson Heath Thomson.”

Holding his hat in his hands, Heath’s face showed surprise at the title bestowed on him, smiled slightly and quickly took the hand of the older woman. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Frankle.”

The older woman corrected his greeting. “Ms. Frankle, Mr. Thomson.”

Blushing slightly, Heath nodded and twirled his hat in his hands after he took a place on the leather sofa beside Victoria. Leaning over, he whispered quietly. “Mrs. Barkley, I’d like to go to the lumber yard after lunch, if that’s okay with you.”

Reaching over and squeezing his hand, Victoria whispered back, “Why are you whispering, Heath?”

“I don’t know.” whispered Heath with a frown. “This room makes me feel like I shouldn’t be here. Everything’s, well, so perfect. It’s all in order and not out of place, it looks like everything belongs in this room. Very neat and kinda cold. It needs something to make it look alive.”

Gray eyes moved from his and took another look at the outer room which she’d graced many times in the prior years, her eyes studied the room and she saw the room through his eyes, surprised she hadn’t taken the time to notice before.

Leaning over, she cupped her hand against Heath’s ear and whispered through her sudden burst of giggles, “Even Helen Frankle looks like she belongs in this room.”

“Mrs. Barkley!” exclaimed Heath in a loud whisper, blushing and chuckling at the same time, making sure he kept his eyes away from the secretary after she glared at the chuckling people disturbing the serenity and orderly quiet of her space.

“I’m sorry.” smiled Victoria, amusement lighting her eyes and she winked at the young man beside her, the twinkle in his eyes a wonderful sight as he squeezed her hand.

Jarrod opened the door and walked a young couple out of his office, smiling in surprise at his mother and brother on his way to the door. Closing the door behind him, the suave attorney greeted his mother with a kiss and clapped his brother on the back.

“Mother! Brother Heath!” exclaimed Jarrod happily. “To what do I owe this wonderful surprise visit?”

“Heath and I are here so you can buy us lunch.” teased Victoria.

“Is that right?” asked Jarrod with a smile and a wink at his little brother. “Now, we know where Nick learned that phrase from, right Heath?”

Heath nodded, “It does sound familiar. I reckon I mighta heard it a time or two.”

“Now, Jarrod, you wouldn’t begrudge your mother and brother a small lunch, would you?”

“I might be tempted but I’d be afraid of what would happen if I said no.” smirked Jarrod playfully, placing his arm around his mother and kissing the top of her head. “Where to, lovely lady?”

Heath smiled at the ease of the relationship between mother and son, his heart pinching for a moment and sadness filling his eyes before he thrust it down deep inside. Victoria followed Jarrod into his office when he remembered some business papers which needed his mother’s signature. Heath waited in the outer room studying a framed picture on the wall.

“They say Jarrod Barkley could be governor someday.” offered Helen Frankle, startling Heath who was so engrossed in the oil painting he hadn’t realized she was beside him.

“Yes, ma’am. Jarrod’s a smart, honest man and would be a good choice.” replied Heath before stepping back from the woman whose eyes suddenly grew full of spite.

“Do you think his dreams will ever come true now that you’re here?” asked the woman harshly, the trueness of her colors coming to the surface, her own dreams as secretary to the governor, the highest power in the state gone with the appearance of the blond before her. “No party in their right mind would want to back him now. Everybody’s always known he was destined to be a great man but you took it away from him, away from the hopes of the town. How do you sleep at night?”

Heath stood stunned in place, his jaw clenching and his hat brim crumpled in his fist, the knuckles white from tension. She was the first who’d openly slandered him to his face in the town and he was unprepared. This woman worked for his oldest brother and must have felt solid in her employment in his office as she didn’t hide the scorn on her face. She didn’t keep it hidden away and point from a distance. She didn’t whisper her outrage from behind her hand.

The nineteen year old wasn’t sure how to handle the tension of the situation. He was a gentleman and couldn’t ram his fist down her throat, he couldn’t cuss her out. He felt the outer office closing in and he fought the desire to run, the words of Victoria Barkley urging him to fight for his birthright rang through his head. He wanted to shout and deny what the woman said was true, but he couldn’t for he knew in his heart it was true, he knew his arrival and the family’s acceptance made it true.

Jarrod and Victoria exited the office, sensing a change in the office by the chill in the air and the storminess in the blue eyes of the blond. Helen Frankle smiled sweetly on her way back to her desk, picking up her pencil and watching the trio as they left. Her mind wondered how an upstanding family such as the Barkleys could ever welcome a product of sin in their home and lives. To the piteous woman, it seemed the family was intent on self-destruction.

Lunch had been an uncomfortable affair for the trio. Heath’s lack of communication and obvious distress a mystery to the other two. His unwillingness to talk and his request to head back to the ranch before the meal was finished, showed the depth of his upset. Seeing his mother and brother off, Jarrod entered his office and leaned over the desk of his secretary, his blue eyes demanding as he put the older woman through an inquisition.

Clenching his jaw, Heath shoved the curry comb into the wooden box, opening the stall door after Victoria stepped to the side, allowing him space.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Barkley, I have work to do.” whispered the blond when Victoria put a hand on his arm. “I need to work with the stallion ‘fore Nick gets back.”

“Heath, I know you’re a proud and private man. Remember, we all stand united beside you. You are a part of our family and always will be!” stated Victoria firmly, receiving a nod before the blond man, stiff with emotion and tension left the barn.

Entering the house and climbing the grand stairs to her bedroom, Victoria sighed and shook her head. The promise of the morning taken away and she chastised herself for assuming if she appeared with the blond in town, it would send a clear message to those who pointed fingers and gossiped. She’d been wrong and Heath’d been hurt again.

Standing in the window and staring out over the land of their ranch, she let her tears of frustration fall. One step forward and four back from the lesson learned for today. But at what expense was the lesson learned?

Standing on the boardwalk, Jarrod felt the anger which was simmering increase to a boiling point. The normally calm collected man of justice’s steps rang out as he stalked down the boardwalk to his office. The man whose deeply engrained passion of righting the wrongs in the world and being the voice for those who couldn’t fight for himself didn’t try to shove his anger down or calm himself.

The past weeks of treatment of his newest sibling, his recently found brother by those they considered friends, colleagues and neighbors sickened him. The blond was being treated worse than some of the criminals he’d tried in the court of justice. All because Heath couldn’t prevent the circumstances of his birth. All because his father had amnesia and loved Heath’s mother. A child created out of mutual love of two people was treated with anything but love.

Thrusting open the door, Jarrod turned the sign on the door to the closed side and stalked to his secretary’s desk. Helen Frankle swallowed the lump of fear rising up inside at the blazing fire in the blue eyes of her employer. Jarrod put both hands on the desk, his arms stiff with emotion as his voice rang out in the outer office which was suddenly closing in on the older woman.

“Would you care to explain what happened between you and my brother, Ms. Frankle?”

Unconsciously moving back from the anger, Helen’s eyes nervously darted in their sockets before replying after clearing her throat. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. Barkley.”

Raising his hands to pound down on the desk, his force shook the items on the top of the desk, his words were cold with fury, “Do you think I’m blind?”

Shaking her head in denial, Helen met the glare of the blue eyes. Jarrod stared into the beady eyes within the pale perspiring face, his voice low and forceful, “I will give you one chance to explain what happened when you were left alone with my brother. What did you say to him?”

The atmosphere in the office was as cold as the icehouse behind the mercantile. The older woman shivered slightly, her hands trembled in her lap and she suddenly saw the line she’d stepped over. The line had always been clearly defined but her own ambitions faded it to her eyes and her mouth was the weapon used in her zealous to protect her own goals. The need for survival of her only source of income made her hesitate, her mind searching frantically for a way to backpedal and salvage her place outside his office and in his career.

“I mentioned how everyone in town knew you were destined for great things. How everyone thought you’d someday be governor.” whispered Helen in a trembling voice, the fury in his blue eyes frightening and she couldn’t hold his gaze.

“What else?” demanded Jarrod fighting the urge to pull the middle aged woman from her chair and shake her til the teeth in her head rattled. “WHAT ELSE?”

The shouted question caused her to jump in her chair, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. The spring of moisture inside her releasing the true contempt bottled with her, the true contempt masked by her self righteousness.

“He ruined everything! All your dreams for the future. Your family destroyed themselves when they took him in. He’s a byproduct of sin and always will be. No matter what name you give him, he’ll always be the Barkley bastard!” declared the vile mouth housed in the female form.

“GET OUT!” hissed Jarrod grabbing hold of the desk and yanking it to the side where it landed against the wall, her gasp of terror was loud in the room and she pushed backwards in her chair, widening the area between them. “YOU ARE NO LONGER EMPLOYED HERE!”

Pushing herself from the chair and grabbing her small drawstring bag, her knees were shaking uncontrollably at the fury pushing against her from where he stood four feet away, fists clenched at his side, face red from anger and indignation. Turning to the door, she stopped with her hand on the latch when he spoke again.

“My brother, Heath Thomson, is a man whose fought all his life against small minded people like you. He’s a generous, compassionate man and his gentle spirit is a true testament to the goodness in this world. YOU, who were given every opportunity since birth has chosen to squander it away with hatred and prejudice. I almost feel sorry for you, Ms. Frankle, for you’ll never understand the true meaning of those words and therefore, will never comprehend the true definition of love and family.”

“The day Heath came into our lives, our family will honor for the rest of our lives. His greatness lies within him, within his very soul and his heart.”

Staring at the broad back of the now sobbing woman, Jarrod shook his head and smiled to himself. “Knowing the inner man of my brother, Heath, he’ll probably pray for salvation of your soul. For HE is an example of humanity that you self-proclaimed hypocrites should be. Now, get out and take your warped soul with you!”

Fumbling with the door knob, Helen Frankle fought for gasps of air after escaping the contempt and anger which pushed her out the door, even though the man in the office hadn’t physically touched her.

Passing by the church on the way to her small house, the Christian woman felt deep shame rising within her and hurried her steps as if to escape the censure she felt as she passed the house of the lord. The church, the symbol of goodness and love for the fellowship of man, all creatures created equal in his eyes. The teachings learned from birth finally filled her with understanding of the wrongness of her actions of the day and the past years.

Entering her house and falling back against the door, the woman who’d gone to church every Sunday for the past forty seven years of her life fell to her knees and prayed for forgiveness, the shame spilling out from within her depths and shaking her large frame.

The closing of the door and several deep breaths finally calmed him and Jarrod’s shoulders sagged from weariness. Rubbing his hand over his face, he glanced around the outer office before moving and grabbing his briefcase, shoving papers into it. Locking up his office, the attorney mounted and turned his horse towards the ranch. He had to speak with his younger brother and his sense of urgency nudged Jingo into a gallop.

His stomach was twisted in agony, his mouth barren of moisture and he rode with fear on his left shoulder. His mind tortured him with visions of a home no longer graced with a lop-sided grin and reaching the ranch, he jumped out of the saddle, thrusting the reins into Ciego’s waiting hands before dashing to the front door.

“MOTHER! HEATH!” called Jarrod uncharacteristically loudly and noisily throwing the briefcase onto the round table in the foyer. The sound of rushing feet were heard before his eyes beheld her. “Mother, where’s Heath?”

“Jarrod, what’s wrong?” worried Victoria, her first born’s unusual entrance and his frantic eyes concerning her. “Is it Audra? Nick? Are they hurt?”

“No, Mother.” replied Jarrod puzzled for a moment before shaking his head and placing a kiss on her cheek. “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Placing a hand on his arm, Victoria sighed with relief and smiled slightly. “It’s okay, Jarrod. When you shouted like that, I took it the wrong way. You don’t normally announce your arrival home in such a manner.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” apologized Jarrod reaching over and squeezing her hand. “Is Heath in the house?”

“No, he’s at the corral working with Charger.” advised Victoria, studying the blue eyes as they lost their frantic look. “Something’s happened. What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, Jarrod replayed the scene in his head before answering, “I’m in the market for a secretary, Mother. I let Ms. Frankle go. We had a clashing of viewpoints. She thought her viewpoint was right and I know she was wrong.”

“Over Heath?” questioned Victoria, although she’d already felt something had happened between the blond and the older woman while she was signing the papers in Jarrod’s office, waiting til her son nodded before continuing. “What happened?”

Letting out a shaky breath after Jarrod explained what occurred, Victoria moved to sit on the settee in the parlor, the swishing of her material the only sound in the room. Leaning back into the seat, the tiny woman shook her head and admitted, “I was wrong today, Jarrod. I thought if people saw Heath and I together in town, united and beside each other…I hoped it would stop some of the talk, some of the whispering. In my desire to help Heath, I may have just provided the last straw. The one which broke the camel’s back.”

Sitting on the table in front of her, Jarrod reached over and picked up his mother’s hands in his. “I think if that were true, Mother, Heath would have left as soon as he brought you back home. As you said, he’s still here, down at the corral.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and she whispered, “No, he gave John his word about fixing up the orphanage. Heath wouldn’t have left today cause to do so would mean he’d have to break his word, go back on his promise and he wouldn’t do that.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” agreed Jarrod, reaching up and wiping away the tear which escaped her eye. “I’m going to talk to Heath and see if I can somehow repair the damage done. I won’t lose him Mother over pointing and whispers from small minded people.”

Standing, Jarrod bent down and placed a kiss on his mother’s silver hair leaving her on the settee and heading out the front door, his steps taking him to the corral furthest away from the rest of the buildings. He could see Heath inside the corral, his arms crossed over his chest and his head slightly tilted as he stood in front of the red stallion.

Quietly stopping outside the corral, Jarrod leaned against the wooden rails and watched, unable to hear the soft words being spoken by the blond. The words he whispered were only for the two large ears on the head of his captive audience.

Brown eyes rolled in their sockets as they watched the man whose voice calmed the uneasiness at the unfamiliar weight on his back. The leather seat was in place, securely fastened and on top were two sacks of grain tied in place. The two sacks weighed approximately the same as the man who stood before the animal, however, the equine was unaware of the significance of the weight…all it cared about was the unfamiliarness of the items.

Shaking his head at the soft murmurs, Charger snorted and stomped his foot. Heath chuckled softly at the gestures which appeared to be a response to his question. Reaching up, Heath ran a firm hand down the long nose of the horse, murmuring softly. His thoughts were only for the animal in front of him, his mind was focused only on the chose he was assigned to do. His escape from the world lay within the corral and he let his growing association with the stallion take him to a place where he was the whisperer.

Jarrod felt a hand on his shoulder and looked sideways into the profile of his other brother, his eyes intent on the scene in the corral. Glancing down, Jarrod nudged Nick and lifted an eyebrow at the boots which were minus spurs. Nick shrugged and winked, gesturing to the pump at the water trough where the spurs dangled, glistening in the sun.

“Too noisy.” whispered Nick after leaning close to his eldest brother’s waiting ear. “They bother little brother while he’s wrangling.”

Nodding his understanding, Jarrod turned his head back and stood with Nick, watching the training going on in the arena before them. It was a slow deliberate method of changing the fears of the animal and building its confidence, building its trust in an animal of a different species.

Heath sensed their arrival before he realized they were there, his brothers. Adding another sack on top of the others, the blond murmured as Charger shifted, shying at the increase of weight, steadying at the hand on his neck which reached up behind his ears and scratched a delicate spot. The soft voice was reassuring and he nodded, the large head of the horse moving up and down. Still murmuring, Heath took the reins and walked the horse around the corral, nodding to the men as they passed before them.

Neither brother standing outside the training area moved from their spot, they were frozen in place as they were mesmerized. Twenty minutes later, Heath stopped the large horse and removed the weight from the saddle, holding onto the saddlehorn and placing his left foot in the stirrup. Nick stiffened and tightened his hold on the corral bar, ready to vault into the training area if need be. Jarrod held his breath and couldn’t pry his eyes away.

Pulling himself up to stand with his weight in the stirrup, Heath murmured as the powerful muscles bristled and quivered. His voice and the trust he earned calming the stallion. When the quivering stopped, Heath put his right leg over and settled his body into the saddle. Charger was confused and turned his head back, brown eyes studying the man who was on his back, his ears twitching from the familiar murmurs. Nudging the horse gently, Heath walked him around the paddock while Nick and Jarrod let out their collective breaths and smiled at each other.

“Can ya’ open the gate, Nick?” requested Heath softly as he rode past his brothers. Nick unlatched and stood holding the gate open, coughing as Heath suddenly nudged the horse into a gallop, the dust flying up from the churning hooves and settling over the dark haired man.

“HEATH!” protested Nick loudly coughing and waving the dust away. His words not reaching the blond who let the horse run with all its might out of the ranch yard with the crew watching in admiration and across the grassy meadow before turning him back and returning to the corral. Dismounting, Heath patted the soft coat and murmured again, the horse nudging his shoulder in response before he was lead into the barn, unsaddled and put in his stall. Currying the animal, Heath blushed slightly at the compliments from his brothers, his hands only stopping for a moment at Jarrod’s words.

“When you’re finished, Heath can I have a moment of your time? I’d like to talk to you about this morning.” requested Jarrod, his words receiving a puzzled look from Nick.

Taking a breath, Heath replied, “There ain’t much to talk about, Jarrod. Just leave it be.”

“I can’t, little brother.” stated Jarrod, shaking his head when Nick opened his mouth, silencing him with a look. “Ms. Frankle told me what happened.”

Stopping and leaning against the seventeen hands high horse, Heath studied the face of his older brother before looking down at the comb in his hand. “Willingly?”

“No.” admitted Jarrod. “I want you to know she’s no longer employed by me. I won’t tolerate such behavior.”

Snapping up his head, Heath growled, “Jarrod, you can’t fire her over something that!”

“Over what?” asked Nick wanting to know what happened as his eyes moved from brother to brother. “What happened!”

“Ms. Frankle was too free with her personal opinions.” stated Jarrod, unsure of the reason for the anger in the blue eyes of his youngest brother.

Leaving the stall, Heath threw the comb into the wooden box and spun around on his heel. “Hire her back, Jarrod!”

“WHAT HAPPENED!” demanded Nick, neither blue eyed brother answering his question, the men were locked in a world of their own, squared off like adversaries in their corner of the ring.

“Hire her back?” repeated Jarrod in disbelief. “After what she said? No!”

“Don’t you get it, Jarrod!” snapped Heath angrily, “She has a right to her opinion, no matter what I may think about it! This is still a free country and the problem is not them, it’s me!”

“Heath…”

“I’ve always had people talk about me and say things, Jarrod. All my life it’s happened and I realized something today. I realized it’s not so much their voices or their looks which bothers me the most.” stated Heath with a deep sigh and troubled eyes. “Ever since I got out of Carterson, I’ve been hiding out from the world. Almost four years and I’ve been living in a world of my own with no one around. On my own terms, in my own space. Only dealing with people when I wanted to. It’s not so much what she said, it’s that I didn’t know what to say, how to handle it. I spent the last years hiding and now I realize what a mistake it was. I have to find some way to handle the whispers and whatever else they throw my way.”

Shaking his head, Heath looked up at the rafters and smiled to himself before bringing his eyes back to the two shocked faces. “If I’m to fight for my birthright and the right to be in this family, I need to be prepared to wage this war. I wasn’t prepared and Ms. Frankle won the first battle. But her and those like her won’t win the war. I may be a lot of things but I’ve never been a quitter.”

Walking past his brothers, Heath left them standing in the barn, his words ringing out and entering the minds of the stunned men. They’d never heard the blond string so many words together at one time.

“Did he say when he got out of Carterson?” whispered Nick, his mind conjuring up the scarring on his brother’s back and he held onto the stall door at the sudden sick feeling overwhelming him. “My god.”

Jarrod’s eyes widened suddenly with understanding, “Did he say he was going to fight for the right to be in our family and he wasn’t going to quit?”

“Nick, did you hear what Heath said?” asked Jarrod, his eyes brimming with hope before turning to concern at the brother who held onto the stall door with a death grip, his lungs bursting and sucking in oxygen as if he’d run two miles. “Nick, you okay?”

Negatively shaking his head, Nick trembled as facts and pictures assaulted his mind, his stomach felt as it he’d been kicked by a horse, the pain stabbed his insides. Jarrod bent slightly to stare at the face which paled under its tan.

“Nick, what the hell’s the matter?” stammered the attorney, the sudden condition of his strong brother frightening him, putting his hand on the black clothed back. “Do you need the doc?”

Shaking his head in denial with a mind shocked as much as his body, Nick forced out between his search for air. “Carterson..Heath..in Carterson.”

“I know, Nick.” admitted Jarrod quietly, his words bringing the tortured hazel eyes slowly upwards, the emotion of shock leaving.

“You knew?” hissed the rancher, anger rising up to overtake the shock, unable to comprehend his brother not sharing the knowledge. “You didn’t tell me!”

The accusation in the hazel eyes caused Jarrod to sigh and grab hold of the trembling shoulders, his eyes keeping hold of the other pair, “On the way to Heath’s cabin, he, well, he was lost in the past from his fever and called me Major Binginton after he asked for his orders. When you were sleeping from your head wound after we got to the cabin, he was talking about Carterson in his delirium.”

“You knew?” repeated Nick again, his hands clenching the lapels of the suit jacket in front of him, his face regaining color quickly as his inner thermometer increased from the surge of red. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything? Do you have any idea what he must have went through in that place? How could you not tell me, Jarrod!”

“Nick, it’s not my place to tell something I learned when our brother wasn’t aware. I couldn’t, it would be almost like betraying him with his unconscious thoughts. I’m sorry but it was Heath’s place to tell you if he wanted you to know.” explained Jarrod calmly before taking a deep breath. “Yes, I have an idea of what he went through, Nick. He’s been through hell on earth twice. First in Strawberry and then in Carterson. Twice and he’s not even twenty years old.”

The anguished look in the blue eyes and the emotion choking the older man’s words loosened his grip on the suit. Nick realized the truth behind his older brother’s words and he leaned against the stall door, bending at the waist and putting his hands on his knees.

“Jarrod, you’re right. I’m sorry.” apologized Nick taking deep breaths before straightening, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll do my damnest to make sure Stockton isn’t his third hell on earth.”

Jarrod pulled his still trembling brother into a hug, whispering in a firm voice. “Me too, Nick. Whatever it takes.”

Feeling the trembling leaving his body, Nick patted the back of his older brother and shook his head, “Let’s go find Heath, Jarrod. I think we all could use a drink.”

Nodding, Jarrod released his hold and together the brothers walked up to the house, searching the domicile they found their blond brother in the study seated at the desk. Glancing up at the sound of their boots, Heath raised an eyebrow when they entered, the looks on their faces making him put down the pencil and lean forward on the desk.

“Ya’ alright?” questioned Heath watching as Nick walked to the drink cart and poured three drinks, handing one to Jarrod and the other to Heath.

“To brothers and hopefully a very short war against small-minded people.” toasted Nick tossing back his drink with Jarrod following. Heath’s tumbler sat untouched on the desk and Nick frowned, suddenly realizing when they had before dinner drinks, the blond didn’t participate. “Heath, do you drink?”

“Not for the past two years.” stated Heath quietly, pushing himself out of the chair and picking up the crystal glass, handing it to Nick before picking up his cup. “Ya’ look like ya’ need this more than me.”

Jarrod perched himself on the corner of the desk and asked, “Why didn’t you tell us, Heath?”

Shrugging, the blond sighed as he stared into his cup, “I don’t know, maybe cause this all still feels strange and I have to sometimes remind myself we’re brothers.”

Intrigued at the bared thoughts, Nick grabbed a chair and straddled the back of it, his arms crossed over the back, the glass in his hand. “What do you mean it feels strange?”

Thinking for a moment, Heath gestured towards Nick’s black boots. “Most times it feels like a pair of boots that over the years are formed to your feet and then, well, sometimes it’s more like when ya’ buy a new pair, uncomfortable and hard. Eventually the new pair become your old pair. Does that make sense?”

Jarrod nodded, “Perfect sense, little brother. I’ve had twenty four years to get used to Nick and it took twenty three years before he felt like the old pair.”

Chuckling, Heath smiled at the protests from the dark haired rancher and shook his head, his eyes finding the french doors and the falling light outside. “I’m not much for talkin’ about myself and I know there’s questions ya’ want to ask…”

“It’s okay, Heath.” whispered Nick watching the profile of the blond whose eyes closed briefly, the uneasiness at sharing any of his past always left him feeling skittish and ready to run . “We have the rest of our lives to ask questions, little brother.”

“That’s right.” agreed Jarrod with a smile. “While we want to know everything about you, we know you’re a private person and we respect that. Someday when it feels right, you’ll let us know.”

Tilting his head slightly, Heath wrapped his hands around the cup and looked at the two older men who’d taken him in as their brother without hesitation. If he asked them a question, he knew without a doubt they’d answer without hesitation. To the two men before him, he also knew if he didn’t answer, they would wait as long as it took til he felt secure enough. It wasn’t fair to them. They’d readily share but he’d hold back.

Letting out a shaky breath, Heath flashed a slight grin before stating. “I ran to escape my, uh, Strawberry when I was fourteen. Long story short, I was in the war, captured and went to Carterson for what seemed a lifetime. Eight months after I was released, I left the hospital.”

The quiet voice glided across the room from the face which turned downward, blue eyes studying the pattern in the oriental rug on the floor before he continued. “I drank then, too much. I was struggling to just make it through one day at a time and the nights were spent in saloons, drinking, playing cards and fighting with anyone over anything. A simple remark could set me off, I was so angry. I could’ve drank myself to death and would’ve if Jim hadn’t found me. With his help, I built the ranch and that’s why I’m a tea toddler today.”

“You actually like to drink that crap?” asked Nick with a grimace and shiver while Jarrod rolled his eyes upwards as if searching for strength and guidance with the younger man.

Heath felt as if a part of his soul was lightened from the confession and he lifted his cup towards Nick. “Coffee, Nick. I like coffee.”

Nodding, Nick smiled at his two blue eyed brothers before scowling, “Now, will someone tell me what the hell happened today?”

Glancing sideways at Nick’s question, the eldest watched the youngest’s eyes fall to look into the opening of his cup for several minutes. Nick studied Heath’s head, his eyes not leaving the blond hair as the story haltingly came out and he met the gaze of his newest brother when his chin raised upwards.

Heath swallowed at the look of disgust appearing on the face of Nick, his stomach suddenly filling with excessive acid, his heart pounding thunderously in his chest, his eyes widened with disbelief when Nick snorted and stood up.

“Welcome to the club, little brother.” smirked Nick with a shake of his head.

“What club, Nick?” asked Jarrod.

“The ‘you’re not good enough to be Jarrod’s brother’ club!” stated Nick tossing back his drink and putting the empty glass on the desk.

“Nick, what are you talking about?” questioned Jarrod in exasperation with Heath watching and listening. “Now, you’re giving me a headache!”

“That old battle-ax always made me feel I was lower than dirt every chance she got! The only difference was she didn’t come right out and say it like she did to Heath here. No, she’d pussyfoot around it. She’d say how someone mentioned I was casting a shadow over you after I’d get in a fight at the saloon. She’d mention how hard it must be for Mrs. Barkley to have such a wild son like me. Especially since Jarrod was rising quickly in the public eye and how proud our mother must be of you.”

Heath was no less shocked than Jarrod who stood with a perplexed look on his face, not quite sure how his astute nature missed what was right outside his office door. Clapping Jarrod on the back, Nick grinned, “I was tempted to belt her a few times but figured if I did that even the great Jarrod Barkley couldn’t keep me outta jail. NO matter how much the old bit…uh, witch deserved it.”

Wiping a hand across his face, Jarrod sighed deeply, “I had no idea, Nick. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I told you I thought you needed someone nicer as your secretary.” replied Nick after waving off Jarrod’s apology.

“NICK!” exclaimed Jarrod throwing his hands in the air. “That’s not telling me! I just thought you wanted me to hire someone prettier and younger so you could date her! How was I supposed to know that was what you meant about Ms. Frankle?”

Shrugging at the exasperation in his older brother’s voice, Nick looked at Heath and winked, “Guess you know now, don’t you big brother!”

Mumbling to himself, Jarrod squeezed his temples and groaned. Nick leaned on the desk, his eyes studying the drawing on the paper.

“Hey, is that the orphanage?” asked Nick reaching over to turn the paper around, studying it with interested orbs.

Suddenly nervous, Heath put his cup down and walked behind the desk, pulling the paper back away from the intense eyes and biting the inside of his cheek. “I rode over there this morning with Mrs. Barkley and I, uh, I…”

Looking upward at the hesitation, Nick suggested, “You wanted to draw a picture of the building afterwards for your wall or something?”

Blushing slightly, Heath snarled, “No, Nick!”

“Then why’d you draw it?” asked Nick, not sure again of what was happening, feeling again out of the loop.

Unconsciously tapping the pencil against the desk, Heath frowned, “Have ya’ seen the building lately, Nick?”

Shaking his head negatively, Nick replied, “No, I haven’t been there in months. Why?”

“It’s in real bad shape and they only have one exit.” informed Heath quietly.

“And?” prompted Nick glancing at Jarrod before looking back at the nervous younger man.

“Well, Mr. Timmons is right nice and I noticed if anything were to happen, like a fire or something, those kids ain’t got anyway out except through the front door.” blurted Heath. “A person should always have an escape plan in case of trouble cause well, uh, you never know what could happen.”

Tilting his head slightly at the hidden thoughts behind the words, Nick nodded in agreement and hesitated before asking, “Did you have an escape route at your cabin, Heath?”

Blue eyes drifted away for a moment before the blond head moved slightly, signifying the positive answer to the question and he whispered, “A tunnel under the kitchen table. You know, just in case they ever…”

“Yeah.” whispered Nick gazing into the troubled blue eyes. “Good idea to be prepared, little brother, just in case.”

Sighing loudly, Heath turned his eyes to the outside where the darkness had fallen while the brothers talked, unaware of the change in time. ”As a sniper in the war and at the cabin. I always tried to have a way of escape, just in case I needed it. I don’t like tunnels much but it would have served its purpose.”

Physically shaking himself, Heath offered a faint smile at the supportive looks on the faces of the older men before taking a deep breath and stating. “I’ll work the ranch in the mornings, Nick but I’d like to fix up the orphanage in the afternoons. It’d only be for a little while and this way they don’t have to pay no one. The extra money can be used for the kids and stuff they really need.”

Jarrod sat on the corner of the desk and offered, “I think…”

“Jarrod. The handling of the work on the ranch is my decision.” stated Nick, his eyes fully on the nervous blond behind the desk, the blue eyes belaying the younger’s need to handle the renovations on the old building. Remembering the furniture at the isolated cabin in the mountain and the hands which took the time to carefully cut, sand, nail and build the pieces, Nick pursed his lips before asking, “You’re not planning on dragging all our tools over there, are you?”

Shaking his head, Heath let out a shaky breath and his eyes light up, “No, Nick. I’m sure they have some there and I won’t need many.”

“Hmmm…that’s good.” said Nick offhandedly and then offering, “There’s some extra wood in the barn up in the loft we’re not gonna need. Why don’t you take it over there tomorrow?”

Jarrod smiled at the glow in the blue eyes, the excitement pulsating off the younger man and he leaned over sideways, catching Nick’s eyes and letting him know how proud he was of his middle brother with a single look. Nick smiled and looked down at the paper on the desk.

“What do you have in mind for the orphanage, Heath? I could maybe help on some Saturdays and Sundays.” offered Nick, unaware of the surge of emotion his acceptance of the plan raised in the younger man.

The immense pride burst forth inside the woman who stood outside the door of the study, shamelessly listening in as her sons helped their new brother one step at a time with the hand of destiny gently guiding the men along.

...Continued