Dr Merar and Victoria were seated at the dining room table. Silas brought breakfast for Howard and poured cups of coffee for both.

“Thank you, Silas.”

“You’re welcomed, Mrs. Barkley.”

Silas returned to the kitchen.

Jarrod entered the house. He headed towards the living room, gave a cursory look around to see if anybody was there. He then walked to the dining room.

“Mother. Dr. Merar, how’s my brother?”

“Critical and extremely weak. I’m hoping he’ll gain some strength back from the blood transfusion.”

“Nick’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Then he’ll be jumping around in no time. This is buoyant blood.”

Jarrod sat at the table next to Dr. Merar. Silas walked back with a pot of fresh coffee.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Mister Jarrod?”

“Please, Silas. Thank you.”

“How did it go with the sheriff, son?”

“It went as good as could be expected. We hauled the bodies back to town in case someone claims them, which I strongly doubt. If not, they’ll be buried tomorrow. The sheriff would appreciate a deposition from you, Mother.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll ride into town as soon as I know Heath’s out of danger.” She paused, recalling the gruesome events. “Maybe if we had ridden back to the ranch that night this massacre could have been avoided.”

“Mother, don’t do this to yourself. They would have caught up with you and it might have been worse.”

“This Johnny character was ghoulish. To afflict such torture upon a human being is...” Victoria’s voice trailed off as she strived to contain her woe. “If you and Nick hadn’t arrived when you did he would have killed us all.”

“Praise the Lord for Nick’s nightmare.”

“I was wondering about that. It’s quite puzzling. What happened?”

“Last night, Nick started out of sleep convinced that the family was in peril and that Heath was hurt. I didn’t question his vision. I got dressed and rode out with him.”

“And he knew exactly where they were?”

“He had the feel of the area.”

“I read somewhere about a similar case. Twin brothers. Unlike Heath and Nick, they were raised together. They shared this powerful ethereal bond that enabled them to feel what the other was feeling or instinctively sense when one was in danger or seriously hurt. It’s as if they communicated telepathically. Some sort of sixth sense.”

“That pretty much sums up what Nick and Heath have.”

“When they reached the age of twenty-five, one of the twins drowned and the other died shortly after.”

“What are you saying?” Jarrod asked, worried that the same fate might befall his brothers.

“The bond was so strong that when the first twin died, it severed the connection between them and the other couldn’t survive without him”

“Well, that’s certainly not going to happen to my sons,” Victoria disputed, erecting a staunch facade, though riddled with lingering doubts.

Dr. Merar rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I promise, we’ll do everything humanly possible to prevent that from happening.”

Victoria reached for his hand, giving it a light squeeze, toiling to mask her qualms.

“Who’s up there with Heath now?”

“Nick’s with him,” she yawned, putting her hand in front of her mouth.

“Mother, you’re exhausted. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“Jarrod is right, Victoria. You need your rest. That boy of yours is going to require your tender loving care in the next few days.”

Too weary to argue, she sighed in resignation. “Okay. I’ll go lie down.” She stood from the table. “ Jarrod, if anything changes...”

“I’ll come and get you,” he assured.

“I will be staying here for awhile. I left a note at my office where I can be reached.”

“Thank you, Howard.”

Victoria shuffled out of the dining room.

“Your mother’s beat.”

“She’s worried sick.”

“Make sure she’s not disturbed for the next six hours or so unless it’s an emergency.”

During the night, Heath’s condition worsened. His temperature was now hovering at an abominable hundred and four despite the cold towels applied throughout his fever-ridden body. Nick and Audra were catching some Zs while Jarrod and Victoria kept a vigil at Heath’s bedside, expeditiously immersing new towels in cold water to replace the ineffective ones on Heath’s burning skin.

Dr. Merar kept checking on Heath’s condition throughout the night. He swaddled his thoracic cage with bandages to hold the ribs in place. The absence of a moan at the handling of his tender area worried him. His wheezy pants were strenuously loud, his chest rising above level with each draw. All symptoms were consistent with pneumonia.

Dr. Merar threw a despondent look at Victoria whose back was turned, busy wringing out the excess water from a towel. However, Jarrod latched on Howard’s forlorn expression. The two men locked stares. The doctor needn’t utter a word nor bat an eyelid. Jarrod could read the hopelessness carved in his bleary eyes. It leaped at him like a flea to a dog, gradually taking up residence in his own ragged body, draining the remaining dose of energy he had stored for the cause.

Jarrod’s heart quailed. He gazed at his baby brother barely clinging to dear life. He scanned his every feature, imprinting them on his memory, before death swept them away forever.

Dawn was breaking. Nick had taken the shift early that morning and had dozed off in a chair next to Heath’s bed. Still in her nightgown, Audra tiptoed into the room. She fleetingly glanced at Heath before setting her sight on a disheveled Nick embowed in a chair, his head resting against his fist.

She reached for a blanket at the end of the bed and gently laid it on Nick’s shoulders. He jolted out of sleep, swiftly turning his attention to his slumberous brother.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to awake you.”

“What time is it?” he yawned, wiping the grogginess off his face.

“Close to six o’clock.”

Audra watched Nick take Heath’s pulse and feeling his forehead.

“His fever’s down a bit,” Nick observed.

“He survived the night. That’s an encouraging sign.”

“I hope so, sis.”

Audra gently squeezed Nick’s shoulder. “You want a cup a coffee?”

“I’d appreciate one. Thanks.”

“Be right back.”

Audra started for the door when Heath released a cough. She stopped, turned around enlivened by the sound.

“Did he?”

“Yeah, he did,” Nick enthused, bending closer to Heath. “Heath, come on,” he implored, gently tugging at his shoulder. “ Wake up Brother.”

Heath replied by emitting a soft moan.

“Audra, go fetch the doctor.”

Audra scurried out of the room and knocked on the guest bedroom where Dr. Merar was temporarily settled.

“Doctor Merar!” she continued pounding on the door, arousing Jarrod and Victoria who both opened their doors to see what was all the commotion.

“Yes Audra.”

“It’s Heath, “ she informed excitedly. “ He moved!”

“What?”

Dr. Merar, Victoria and Jarrod all rushed to Heath’s room. The blond man was hacking his lungs out, laboriously sucking in lengthy breaths between loose coughs.

Howard asked Nick to help him raise Heath into a sitting position to prevent his choking on the phlegm.

The crisis soon passed. Nick took his winded brother’s hand into his and softly rubbed his thumb over his knuckles.

Dr. Merar applied his stethoscope against Heath’s chest. “His lungs are still badly congested,” he observed, albeit relieved at the absence of hemoptysis (spitting of blood). He admitted the possibility that Heath was at the grip of a mere chest cold.

“Heath, can you hear me? It’s doctor Merar. If you can hear me, squeeze Nick’s hand.”

Nick looked down at his brother’s limp hand cradled in his. There was no movement. Nick shook his head at Howard.

Howard flicked his fingers at Heath’s cheek. “Come on, Heath,” he continued to coax, ”squeeze your brother’s hand.”

Nick reacted to his brother’s weak response.

“He heard you, Doc.”

Howard sat on the rim of the mattress, cupping Heath’s head in both hands, gently tilting it sideways. “Okay, I want you to wake up now. Open your eyes, Heath.”

Heath’s free hand slowly groped its way up to Howard’s annoying motion. He brushed it against the doctor’s hand in a feeble attempt to push it away from his face.

“I’m not going to stop until you open your eyes, Young Man.”

Howard nodded in Nick’s direction. “You try, Nick. Maybe he’ll recognize your voice.”

Nick cleared his throat.” Come on, Heath. Rise and shine, Boy!”

Heath uttered a faint groan at the gruffness of Nick’s tone. Dr. Merar released his grip on the blond man’s head as he felt it slanting towards the sound of Nick’s voice.

“He’s reaching for you. Continue.”

“Open your eyes, Brother Heath. We’ve got a full day ahead of us,” he goaded, feeling Heath’s strong grip on his hand. “You wouldn’t skip out on your big brother now, would you?”

Heath’s brows creased, eyes rapidly moving underneath his eyelids. His chest heaved with each painful sucks, his head restlessly tossing. He was lost in a maze, unable to reach out to the distant voice commanding him to arouse.

Finally, he opened his eyes. He darted around the room until he fixed his vitreous gaze upon Nick, smiling at him.

“Welcome back, Little Brother.”

Jarrod, Audra and Victoria all breathed a sigh of relief as they clasped in each other’s arms.

Heath coughed. His eyes drifted away, rolling back in his head as he labored to draw in breath. “Nick, I can hardly breathe.”

“That’s because you’ve got some goo in your lungs.”

Terror washed over Heath’s whey-face as he tried to wiggle his toes.

“Nick, I can’t...I can’t move my legs,” he quivered in a state of utter panic.

“They’re broken.”

“What?”

“Heath.”

“Doctor Merar. What happened to me?”

“You don’t remember?”

Heath shook his head. His heavy breathing suddenly increased. His torso began to buck.

“Mother,” he cried out.

Victoria approached the bed. “I’m here, son.”

She sat in Dr. Merar’s place by her agitated son, rubbing a soothing hand over his contracting abdomen.

“Take it easy, Heath,” Howard mollified in a calm voice, pushing down on his patient’s upper chest to hinder him from exacerbating his injuries. “Calm down. Breathe deeply and slowly.”

Heath took in intense shuddering breaths, which induced a gag caused by phlegm blocking his airway. His knuckles turned white as he clung to Nick’s hand, almost crushing it.

“That’s it. Slowly.”

Howard peeled the dressing off his shoulder to examine to wound. Heath clenched his teeth at the blinding pain.

“Audra, get me a clean swathe from my bag, will you?”

Audra rummaged through Dr. Merar’s medical bag and handed him a gauze pad.

“Thank you. Jarrod, bring me the flask of rubbing alcohol.”

“Sure thing.”

Howard unwound a strip of gauze and cut off a piece.

“Audra, you remember the cleansing procedure?”

“Sure.”

Victoria gave up her seat to her daughter by Heath’s side. Dr. Merar placed the gauze and flask of alcohol in her hands.

“Careful to sterilize around the puncture wounds,” he instructed.

“Okay”

Howard discreetly beckoned Victoria to follow him out of the room. She nodded back at him.

She leaned closer to Heath and kissed him on the lips. “Be right back.”

“Nick, try to make him drink some water. Only tiny sips.”

“Alright, Doc.”

Howard, Victoria and Jarrod exited the room.

“You tell me if this hurts too much,” Audra asked of her bedridden brother.

“You’ll do fine,” his whispered, throwing her a faint wink through glazed eyes.

“Little Sis, here, is a regular Florence Nightingale.”

“I know.”

“Want some water?”

Heath nodded. Nick grabbed the water pitcher and poured water into a glass. He poised himself on the edge of the bed and cupped Heath’s head in one hand, lifting the glass up to his brother’s mouth with the other.

“Easy, not so fast.”

Heath started to cough, splattering water over his mouth, which trickled down his neck. Nick reached for a tissue and wiped his brother’s mess with it.

“There you go. Good as new. We’ll try again later.”

“Thanks,” Heath heaved out between breaths.

Outside Heath’s bedroom, further down the hallway, Dr. Merar filled the concerned mother and brother in on their love one’s present condition.

“I’m happy to say that Heath’s condition appears to have surprisingly taken a turn for the better. Fever’s down and he seems to have gained strength from the blood transfusion.

“He’ll pull through. He has that Barkley stubborn streak.”

“It’s still premature to tell. He’s a stubborn kid, I’ll give him credit for that.”

“But?” Victoria monosyllabic question cast a gloom over the ecstasy of joy.

“The infection still got a hold on him. Our main priority at this point is to extract the bullets and I’d like to take advantage of the favoring circumstances to perform the surgery as soon as possible before the infection extends. I hate to use anesthetic on his congested lungs but I don’t have any choice. We must act now while he still has a chance of pulling through. I’ll ask Nick to monitor his respiration rate throughout the procedure. And Victoria...I’d appreciate your assistance.”

“Of course.”

“When do you wish to start?”

“Right now.”

“Can I be of any assistance?” Jarrod asked.

“You could boil some water. We’re going to need plenty of it.”

“I’m on it.”

Jarrod climbed downstairs to fill out the doctor’s orders.

...Continued