Back at the ranch, a gloomy atmosphere set in instead of the usual hustle and bustle. The Christmas tree remained bare of ornaments; the house devoid of paper streamers and no stockings hung on the fireplace mantle. Nick had cloistered himself in his room, playing only with Heath’s bunny Dewey. He would cry himself to sleep and wake late in the mornings, going downstairs only to grab some food that he would eat in his room. Both Victoria and Tom had tried to allay his grief but to no avail. Nick remained inconsolable. Even little sister Audra’s pleas were no match for Nick’s festering grief. The parents were desperate for help.

Despite Nick’s antipathy for his Uncle, Tom and Victoria convinced Jim to remain in Stockton and spend Christmas with them. They wished to quickly resume a normal life to avoid sinking into a slough of despond.

Victoria decided to take matters into her own hands and marched up to her son’s room hoping to have a heart-to-heart talk. She nudged Nick’s bedroom door open and poked her head inside. “Nicolas, may I come in?”

Without averting his eyes from the bunny he was petting, Nick shrugged and grunted his permission. Victoria ambled up to the bed where she sat beside and joined Nick in petting the rabbit.

“You’ve been taking good care of him,” she remarked, hoping the praise would wring an appreciative smile out of her distraught boy. “You know Silas has made some delicious roast duck tonight just for you. He knows it’s your favourite.”

“It was Heath’s favourite, not mine,” Nick replied crushingly, though his mother could detect a small quiver in his voice. She lifted his chin to will his eyes to hers. “What?” he asked insolently.

“Don’t do this, Nick. If anything your little brother is in a better place.”

Bordering on tears, Nick looked away and jumped out of bed to avoid her mother’s scrutinizing stare. “He is not. He belonged right here with us. God is cruel. He killed him!” he cried.

“No he didn’t.” Victoria stood from the bed and stepped up to her sobbing son to enlace him in her arms but the moment he felt her presence near him, he bounced out of the way, refusing to be comforted. “Nick, please. We need to be strong as a family.”

“Being strong means forgetting about Heath. Not me. Never.”

“That’s not it. We will never forget your brother. He was our pride and joy. He was my son; my baby,” she quavered, the very thought of her golden boy’s death shaking the very core of her being. “I can never forget him. He will be in my heart forever.”

“Don’t you miss him? I do something terrible.”

She risked a hand on his shoulder. “There hasn’t been a minute that I don’t think about him. His smile, his laugh, his cute little face,” she mused wistfully with a twinge in her heart. “But life goes on.”

“I hate it when people say that. I can’t go on as if nothing happened. If I do it’ll be like I’m forgetting Heath was ever here. I can’t do that to him.”

“Oh no, don’t think that.” She slowly slid her arms around his shuddering body she sensed was now seeking comfort. “Whatever you do, he’ll always be in your little heart,” she tapped his chest, “right here.”

“I’ll try,” he sniffed.

She turned him around and stooped down to his level to dab at the tears running down his cheeks. “That’s my boy. Now wipe those tears and come downstairs for dinner. Your sister is anxious to see you.”

“Can I bring Dewey?”

“Well not at the dinner table, dear. Maybe after.” Nick nodded and fell into her arms. She held him in a tight embrace, until she felt that he was pulling away. She stood and kissed the top of his head before making her way to the door. “We’ll be waiting.”

Once the door closed Nick looked heavenwards and sighed heavily, letting another gush of tears rush to his rueful eyes. “How can I do this, Heath? Please help me.”

In the hush of night, Nick tossed and turned in bed, hag-ridden by a recurring nightmare of Heath’s death, though with a different ending. He moaned and wailed his little brother’s name, his cries wafting down the corridor to his parents’ bedroom. Victoria sprung up in bed, tossed the covers aside and hurried down to Nick’s room.

“Nick, wake up!” She shook him until he shot his eyes open. He turned to the blurred figure sitting by him, blinking to establish focus. “Mom?”

“That’s right. You were having a nightmare.”

“No. It wasn’t really a nightmare. Mom,” he sat and grabbed her shoulders. “Heath is alive.”

Victoria reached for a towel to dab at the beads of perspiration running down Nick’s temples. “Nick sweetheart, it was only a dream,” she tried vainly to convince.

Nick’s eyes bulged out of their sockets with nostrils flaring at the fear of not being taken seriously. He could not dismiss his vision has a mere nightmare. “Mom, it was so real. I saw him with an old man. He was telling me to come and get him, that he didn’t know where or who we were.”

Victoria shot her husband a look of concern; her eyes begging him to succeed where she failed. She vacated her seat for Tom to sit by his flustered son whose eyes were shut tight in deep concentration. “I’m trying to see where he could be. I know I saw rocks but that’s it. Nothing more.”

“Nick, listen to me,” he laid his hand on top of Nick’s and squeezed it to draw his attention. “I know how hard it was to witness your brother’s death and I imagine…”

“No! Don’t tell me that!” Nick spat, pushing the hand away. “Heath is alive. I can feel it.” Nick leaned forward to stand inches with his father. His pleading eyes bore holes into the patriarch, singeing his heart. Tom looked back at Victoria he saw struggling with her own emotions. “Please dad. We need to find him.”

“Tom, we’ll all go,” Victoria suggested, much to Nick’s delight.

“Victoria?” Tom asked perplexed.

“I know Jim searched hard for my boy, but if there’s a remote possibility that Heath is still alive, we cannot afford to sit idly by and do nothing. If anything I want to bring my baby’s body back home,” she ended sobbingly.

Tom nodded in defeat. He knew he was outnumbered and deep inside his instincts was goading him to push harder at finding his son, dead or alive. “I’ll ask Jim in the morning to see if he wants to come along.”

“I doubt he’ll say no.”

“Then again if we find Heath’s bo…,” Tom’s voice faltered at the word. He gulped down the emotional lump caught in his throat and continued, “If we find the body, he may just break down on us.”

“It would be cruel not to share our plans with him.”

“You’re right. I’ll tell him in the morning.” He turned to Nick whose face had taken on a more serene expression. “Will you be able to get back to sleep?”

“I’ll try.” Nick leaned back on his pillows and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders. “I know he’s alive, dad,” he trembled with anticipation. “He called me. I heard him just as clear as I hear you now.”

Both parents placed a gentle kiss on their son’s forehead and padded out of the room. Once the door closed, they stared worriedly at each other. “Do you really want to do this Victoria?”

“Yes I do. Heath and Nick share a brotherly bond that is unlike anything I’ve seen before. It’s baffling sometimes how one can know what the other thinks before he can speak his mind. One instinctively knows when the other is in trouble or hurt. So yes, I do believe Heath has called out to his brother. We cannot afford to dismiss it as a mere nightmare.”

“Nick!” the hoarse voice shrieked, piercing the stillness of the night air.

The old man sprung up in his bed and flung the covers. He knelt beside the boy thrashing wildly about, his body getting entangled in the blankets. He grabbed a hold of his flailing arms and spoke in a soothing voice, “Wake up, little one. Come on, look at me. Look at me.”

Heath’s eyes shot open and glowered at the figure pinning him to the cot. “Let go of me!” he yelped, not yet recognizing the friendly presence he considered evil.

“Look at me, son” the old man persisted, forcing Heath to focus on him. “It’s me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“What? What happened?” Heath panted, blinking hard to clear the fog.

“You were shouting in your sleep. You spoke the name of ‘Nick’. Anybody you know?”

Heath squinted to nudge his memory but to no avail. “I don’t remember,” he sighed ruefully.

“Don’t you worry,” he allayed with a gentle hand on Heath’s arm. “Tomorrow I’m taking you to town to see the sheriff. I’m sure he’ll be able to find your family. In the meantime, you need to sleep.” He eased Heath’s head onto his pillow and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“Thank you. I don’t know your name.”

“Just call me Jeb.”

“Jeb. Thanks Jeb.”

“You’re welcomed, little one.” He leaned forward to brush a kiss on the boy’s forehead before returning to the fire to give the dying embers a few pokes.

Morning found both camps rising early to seek the goals. Nick had yet to warm up to the idea of bringing his uncle Jim along on this quest for he still resented him for abandoning the search for his little brother. His brotherly instincts were gnawing at his stomach, twisting his guts in knots, telling him that Heath was alive and in close proximity. He trembled in anticipation of finding Heath and vowed to find him regardless of whatever obstacles may be in his path.

He left Dewey in the care of Audra who was to remain at home with her baby-sitter, big brother Jarrod, while he joined his parents and uncle on the search. He had mentally tuned in to his little brother’s voice, psyching himself up for any inner sign that they were nearing their quarry.

It was a rather long, arduous road into town but that didn’t scare the little guy who walked briskly side by side with his new friend Jeb. Little did they know that their path was about to cross with destiny.

“Wait!” Heath stopped abruptly, pulling at Jeb’s hand. “I hear something.”

Jeb looked out in the distance to discern a wagon drawing near. “There’s a wagon coming.”

“Maybe they know me?” Heath enthused as he started running toward the oncoming wagon.

“Oh my God!” Victoria exclaimed upon seeing the blond running towards them. “Tom, stop. It’s Heath!” Barely had Tom put on the breaks that Victoria had jumped down the wagon to meet halfway with Heath. “Heath!” she exulted, excitedly falling into his small arms.

Somewhat disturbed by this lady’s ebullience, Heath quickly pushed her away, disengaging the embrace to keep her at arms length. He eyed her warily, frowning quizzically at her enthusiasm. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

“Jubal?” Tom exclaimed.

“Tom Barkley?” the old man reciprocated.

“Don’t…don’t come near me!” Heath stuttered his warning to Nick he saw bolting towards him. He cowered behind Jubal’s leg, solidly gripping the fabric of the worn out pants as though he was clinging on to his very life.

“Heath, it’s me. Nick. My God Heath I thought you were dead.”

“Nick?” asked Heath timidly, recalling the name he spoke in his dream. He squinted to better make out Nick’s features to compare them with the ones he visualized.

“I’m your brother, Heath. Thank God we found you.” Nick’s voice cracked with emotions as his arms ached to hold the little blond. He began inching towards his frightened brother when it appeared that his memory of his family was surfacing.

“He has a bit of amnesia,” Jubal informed. “So I gather this little man is your son?”

“Yes. We thought we’d lost him,” Victoria explained, still reeling from the shock of Heath’s snubbing.

“You nearly did. I found this little guy,” he ran a hand through Heath’s hair, “floating in the stream below the surface. Luckily I got him out just in time. I was able to warm him up but when he roused, he couldn’t remember who he was. He kept shouting the name ‘Nick’ though.”

“That’s me!” Nick piped up.

“Jubal, this is our other son, Nicholas.”

“Nick, Jubal is an old friend of ours,” Tom explained to his wary dark-haired son whose undivided attention was centered on the scared blond hiding behind the old man’s leg. “Jubal, how? I mean you disappeared, never to be heard from again…”

“Funny how life works, Tom. I retreated from the world when my wife died. I wanted to grief for Margaret alone, without anyone berating me for lingering on the past and not moving forward.” He looked down at Heath with a serene smile. “Then I saved this little fellow.”

“I say destiny wanted us to find you again,” Victoria surmised.

Jubal gently peeled off Heath’s fingers off his pants and brought him in front to face the anxious family.

Nick squatted before Heath to reach out to him. “Heath, it’s me, Nick. Your big brother, Nick.” He held out his hand hoping Heath would take it. “God I thought I’d lost you,” he sobbed.

Heath frowned warily at the friendly hand reaching out to him. He studied the boy’s features intently to ensure he meant him no harm. After much dithering Heath placed his small hand in Nick’s. Gently, without any sudden move that could scare Heath, Nick folded his fingers around the trembling hand and stood, tugging at his little brother’s arm to pull him closer.

Heath looked up at Jubal who smiled responsively and nodded. “Go ahead, son. You wanted to find your family. Your wish came true. Go to your brother, little one,” he egged on with a light shove.

Heath still hesitated but after gazing into Nick’s gleaming eyes shining with love and compassion, the little boy fell into his brother’s awaiting arms. The hug that ensued melted everyone’s heart. “You’re my big brother?” whimpered the child as he clung to Nick’s chest.

“Yeah Squirt,” Nick snivelled, dabbing at the tears running down his cheeks. “I am. And I won’t let you out of my sight ever again.”

Jim stood in the background, struggling to suppress the overwhelming emotions washing over him. The elation he felt at the heart-warming sight displaying before him swallowed him whole, though his guild at abandoning the search lingered and gripped at his heart. He could not rejoice with the others on account of his actions.

Tom noticed the grim expression etched on his brother’s face and walked up to him to wrap his arm around his shoulders. “Now that we are reunited, I expect Heath and Nick will want to go back to your place to help out with the repairs,” Tom said matter-of-factly with no qualms whatsoever about the possibility of his sons rejecting their uncle.

“I seriously doubt that, Tom. Nick hates me and Heath, well, the boy doesn’t know who we are.”

“It’s just a matter of time before Hath regains his memory. I want you to be there when he does.”

“Tom, I…”

“I won’t take no for an answer. Jim you did everything you could for my boy. No one is holding you responsible for anything,” Tom assured with Victoria’s approval.

Jim glanced down at Nick still holding his little brother. “He does.”

“He was just upset. He had to lash out his anger at someone. I’m sure he won’t be sore at you anymore now that he’s found his little brother.”

“Tom maybe it’ll be best if I lay low for a while. I have chores waiting for me back home and…well…I think it’s for the best. I’ll be back later when the dust settles.”

“Don’t do this Jim,” Victoria pleaded with a hand on his arm. “Nick will come around.”

“It’s not just your son, it’s me. It need time by myself.”

“The boys will miss you and so will we,” Tom said, looking at Victoria who nodded in agreement. “But please, spend Christmas with us?”

Jim started to speak but the two pouting faces staring at him expectantly prompted him to acquiesce to their request. “I guess I could stay a couple of more days. I wouldn’t miss the look of wonder on those youngsters’ faces when they unwrap their presents. It’s a sight not to be missed.”

Tom wrapped his arm around Jim’s shoulders and both stepped up to Jubal admiring the two young brothers renewing acquaintance. “You have a nice family, Tom.”

“You haven’t met Jarrod and Audra. Come with us Jubal. Living in a cave in no life for you.”

“I like it, Tom.”

“Give us a chance. I’m sure you’ll like living at the ranch.”

“Oh no, I can’t.”

“Give it a try,” Victoria insisted. “It would mean so much to us.”

Jubal looked up at Jim who shrugged in resignation. “These are tough people to say no to.”

The old man’s heart melted at Heath staring at him with pleading eyes. “I can’t promise I’ll stay long but I wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with all of you.”

Heath wrapped his arms around his friend’s legs, holding on tight. He then pulled back and glanced up at the man with a grateful smile. “Thank you Jeb.”

EPILOG

It wasn’t long before the holiday spirit returned to their hearts. Tinsels adorned every part of the house and the tree glittered with shining ornaments. Heath’s memory remained fuzzy but his family were no longer strangers.

Following the holidays, Jim returned back home while Jubal accepted Tom and Victoria’s generous offer of a permanent dwelling at the ranch. He soon became Uncle Jubal to the kids who chose him over their father as their new bedtime story teller.

It was time for school to resume for the new year. With Nick’s help Heath’s essay about his eventful holiday was ready to be handed over to the teacher. A few weeks later, news came that Heath’s work had made it to the finals.

Victoria travelled with her golden boy to San Francisco where the awards were to be presented. There, Heath met with a boy who collected second prize for his work. Rather to rejoice at his reward, the boy bemoaned the lost of the much-coveted dictionary he hoped to win in order to perfect his grammar. His parents were poor and consequently could not afford to purchase such an extravagant gift.

With his mother’s approval, Heath offered to trade the dictionary for the boy’s set of pencils offered as second prize. Little did he know that the young Barkley was giving his prize to a future renowned author.