Barely two hours later, Jim rode as leader in front of Nick and Mike who each followed with an Appaloosa tethered to their saddle pommels. They reined in their mounts in the barnyard where Jim’s foreman met with them to take the horses.

“Carl, this is Nick Barkley and his partner Mike Nelson, the proud owners of my two mares as you can see. They’ll be staying for supper. You can unsaddle their horses and have Charlie give them a good rub down.

“Sure thing, Jim.”

“Where’s David?”

“Where else?” Carl motioned to the corral where Heath was feeding apples to the horses.

Jim shook his head and sighed. “There he goes again, spoiling them.”

Nick flashed an amused grin at Jim’s observation that was reminiscent of his own blond brother’s daily routine.

“Come, I’ll introduce you to my son.”

Jim led Nick and Mike to the paddock.

“I already met David this morning. At the store.”

“That’s right. He sold you the Whitfield Special.”

Jim called Heath over. Nick was busy ogling a sturdy Appaloosa stallion when Heath approached the fence.

“Hey Mike, long time no see,” Heath joked.

Jim turned to Nick to make the introductions. “Nick Barkley, I’d like you to meet my son…”

“Heath!” Nick gasped with eyes widening in shock and his heart leaping to his throat at the bolt of lightning that struck him.

“I beg your pardon?” Heath said, cocking his head with a puzzled look on his face.

“Ah…euh…ah...sorry,” Nick hemmed and hawed as he strived to regain his composure. “I…I mistook you for someone else.” He gulped down the lump of emotions that the pounding of his heart had sent rushing to his throat.

“This is my son, David,” Jim introduced on a slightly insinuating tone.

“Glad to meet you, Mister Barkley,” Heath offered.

“Nick. Call me Nick,” he insisted, with a glimmer of hope that the name would strike a familiar chord.

“All right. Nick.”

Nick felt his body going numb the moment he stared into those deep soulful blue eyes and shook that forceful hand. His heart spoke with a crushing thump against his ribcage. The constant throbbing was evidence that the bereaved man was not laboring under some foolish misapprehension that the blond standing before him was in fact his lost brother.

Much to his dismay, Heath flashed him a fleeting lopsided smile before turning his attention back to Jim.

“Nick here’s interested in our Appaloosa stallions. Would you be so kind to show them to him?”

“No problem, dad.”

Nick’s eyelids dropped like lead at the mere mention of the word ‘dad’. How could Heath not recognize him, the brother who would trade his very own life for him? Could it be that he was overreacting at the striking resemblance with Heath? That in fact the man was David Whitfield? His heart ached, his skin broke out in gooseflesh, his body tearing apart at the seams as he once again tried to curb his emotions.

“Would you come with me?” Heath motioned towards him with a tilt of the head, his question breaking into Nick’s deep train of thoughts.

“Yeah, sure.” Nick straddled the fence and leapt inside the corral next to Heath. “Mike, you coming?”

“If you don’t mind Nick, I’d like to check out those Pintos over there,” he pointed to the adjacent paddock, then turned to Jim, “that is, if they’re for sale?”

“If the price is right,” Jim answered obligingly, giving Mike a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Come on.”

Heath beckoned Nick to follow him to the finer specimen of horseflesh the rancher could ever lay eyes on. Whereas Heath beheld the horse, Nick was eyeing his brother to scan his every feature.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry for staring. It’s just that you look exactly like my brother.”

“I take it that’s a compliment?”

“You bet. He was the best.”

“Was?”

“He d…” Nick’s voice faltered at the wrong choice of words. He hawked and rephrased the sentence, “ I lost him about six months ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Heath said with a genuine sympathy that threw Nick for a loop.

“Yeah. So am I,” Nick replied distractedly, his eyes never averting from Heath’s face.

“This one’s my favorite.” Heath grabbed the stallion’s halter and raked his fingers through the mane. “A great stud. My father says he sired most of the colt on this ranch.”

“He said? You didn’t see it?”

Heath heaved out a shuddering breath. “No, unfortunately. I’ve been seriously ill these past few weeks. My memory of the past all wiped out. Nick gaped pop-eyed at Heath who stared back at him with an inquisitive frown. “What?”

“Nothing.” Nick was numb with consternation at the face eyeing him suspiciously. Aside form the mustache, the facial features and body language screamed Heath Barkley. The very notion of these people considered him as their own flesh and blood sickened him. He felt the urge to fling his arms around him and clench him into a bear hug, never letting go until the very last tear was shed.

What occurred during those last six missing months to sever the deep-rooted connection the two shared? What had the Whitfields done to him? Tonight’s gathering was going to provide him with the perfect opportunity to go fishing for information.

In the shadow of the evening, Nick and Mike joined Olivia and the Whitfield family in the dining room for a copious dinner. They engaged in a casual conversation about horses and ranching in general, but as the topic veered around to David’s recovery, Nick seized the occasion to broach the subject of this lost sheep whose return to the flock strangely coincided with his brother’s disappearance.

Nick kept a subtle demeanor throughout his probing into David’s past, tapping Georgia and Jim for information with carefully chosen questions so not to arouse suspicions. He would glanced up at Heath seated across from him, expecting a change in his poise that would indicate that his line of questioning was making some headway.

Blue eyes often crossed paths with hazel during the course of the evening without so much of a hint of perplexity or uneasiness. Nick felt he was losing ground to Olivia’s mesmerizing charm that had captured Heath’s undivided attention.

Nick started prodding at his food distractedly, remaining aloof of the dialogue exchanged between Mike, Jim and Georgia. He would answer monosyllabically to questions occasionally directed at him as he cocked an ear at the sweet talk happening across the table.

At some point, Heath let out a guffaw at one of Olivia’s jokes that tore Nick to pieces. The infectious laugh plucked at his heart and drained it of all its blood. Unable to bridle the rush of emotions threatening to erupt, Nick suddenly excused himself from the table.

“I’m…I’m sorry. Will you excuse me?” Nick stammered with his chin buried in his chest to avoid making eye contact with anyone. He stood from the table and moved to the dining room entrance.

“Something wrong, Mister Barkley?” Georgia asked, concerned that her cooking was at fault.

“No, Ma’am...I mean yes. I don’t feel so hot. I think I’ll go take a walk outside.”

“Oh dear, I hope it wasn’t on account of the meal?”

“No Ma’am, it was delicious. It’s…” Nick choked on his words as tears came gushing out, “something else. Excuse me,” he finished with a voice cracking with sobs before he hurried out of the house.

A sudden silence fell as puzzled looks traveled from one face to another.

“Was it something we said?” Jim hazarded a guess at Nick’s odd behavior.

“I don’t think so, sir.” Mike wiped his mouth clean on the napkin and pushed his chair back. “I’ll go see what’s bothering him.”

“I hope that young man’s not sick?” Georgia confided in her husband.

Jim smiled reassuringly at his flustered wife and gave her hand a light squeeze. “That was a fine meal, Georgia. I’m sure it’s something else.”

Outside, Mike squinted to make out Nick’s form by the horse paddock, silhouetted against the moonlight. As he drew closer, he perceived tiny sobs coming from the dark-haired cowboy whose head was pillowed on his arms, with his hands balled into clenched fists.

Mike padded up to Nick and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Nick, what’s wrong?”

Nick threw his head back and chuffed out a heavy-laden breath. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

With bleary eyes, Nick turned to the confused blond. “That’s my brother in there. That’s Heath.”

“What?” Mike exclaimed in shock.

Nick angrily flung his arms in the air and walked away. Mike was quick to follow the pace.

“What are you talking about?”

“David is Heath.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I know!” Nick lashed out, emphasizing his conviction with a tap against his chest. “Don’t ask me to explain. I can’t. I just know it’s him.”

Mike shook his head in disbelief.

“Haven’t you been listening to their story of how they came to find their son?”

“Yes but I…”

“I’m telling you, it’s him!!!!!” Nick barked with a jab of his finger toward the house.”

“I’m sorry Nick, it’s not that I don’t want to believe you, it’s just that…”

“I ain’t asking for no second opinion, Mike! Besides you never met my brother.”

Mike sighed and shook his head. “If you say it’s him…”

“It is Heath!!!!!! And I’ll make damn sure I find a way to make him remember me.”

“Nick, be careful. If you’re right about this and you go about it the wrong way, you can make it worse.”

“I know. One thing’s for sure, I’m not leaving this place without my brother. One way or the other I’m bringing him home with me.”

In the midnight hour, Nick was sleeping peacefully in his hotel room, slowly drifting on a tranquil sea with the girl of his dream when Heath’s face came into view. Nick tossed and turned, his face creasing with pain, arms and legs getting tangled in the sheets. His brother’s hand was reaching out to him as he struggled against the jerking waves to maintain his head above water.

“Heath! Hold on!” Nick muttered pantingly in his sleep, his arms flailing wildly about. “I’ll get you! Almost there,” he gasped furiously, sweat pouring out of him. His heart raced and his muscles stiffened as he waged war against the powerful force of Nature to grab his brother’s hand. He stretched out his arm, his fingertips were touching Heath’s when a giant wave came to swallow him whole.

“Nooooooooooooooooooo!” Nick screamed as he sprung up in his bed, huffing and puffing frantically, his body convulsing. He stared vacantly in front of him, allowing time for his breathing to regulate before slowly lowering his racked frame back onto the mattress. He wiped the sweat off his brow with a hand, running it down over his nose and mouth before letting it rest upon his heaving chest.

“Don’t you worry, Heath. I’ve found you, Brother. I’ve found you and I’m not letting you go.”

At cockcrow the next morning, Mike and Nick gorged themselves on a hearty breakfast, eating in restrained silence as neither wished to fuel a simmering argument on how Nick planned to approach Jim Whitfield with the delicate subject of his lost-and-found sibling.

They jogtrotted alongside each other with Nick keeping a stone face and Mike trying to summon his courage to sever the chilling silence with a carefully chosen ice-breaker. As they neared the Whitfield property, he managed, albeit with difficulty, to voice his concern.

“Nick, are you sure about this?”

Nick chuffed out a frustrated sigh. “Mike, I told ya, it’s the only way. It was obvious to me the man harbored doubts about his son’s true identity. I’m sure he won’t freak out when I tell him who he is.”

“That’s your opinion.”

Nick drew in the reins to bring Coco to a halt. “You’ve got a better solution, kid?” Nick spat with a scornful curl of the lips and seething eyes that burned a hole into the repentant ocean blues.

“I’m just saying…it’s too soon,” Mike admitted with a cowered look.

“Six months is a long time to wait, Mike,” Nick said on a more subdued tone as if to apologize for his outburst of temper. “I know if I don’t do this now, I might lose Heath forever,” he finished on an emotion-fraught voice.

As Mike looked up at the misty eyes that the high and mighty cowboy was trying to hide, his heart went out to him.

“And I couldn’t bear to…,” Nick hiccoughed on his words as tears gushed to his eyes. He closed them and bit his upper lip in an attempt to suppress the flow of emotions.

Mike extended his arm to place a consoling hand on Nick’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Nick. Sorry I said anything. I just want you to bring your brother home.”

“I will,” Nick heaved out with a sniffle. “I will if it’s the last thing I do.”

They nudged their mounts onward the rest of the way. They dismounted in the barnyard and after tethering their horses to the hitching post, Mike stayed to tighten his saddle cinch while Nick wandered off to the corral to mull over his arguments.

Jim exited the house and walked up to Mike. “Hi, Mike!” he greeted cheerfully, patting the young cowpoke on the back. “The mares are all ready to go.”

“Thank you,” Mike answered grimly.

“Something wrong?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind about my Appaloosas?” he joked with a titter.

“I wish it were that.”

“Then what?”

Mike motioned to the grieving brother leaning against the fence. “I think you’d better go ask him,” he said, looking at Jim with a sorrowful expression that hinted him about the imminent bombshell.

An ill wind swept over the Whitfield patriarch as he walked over to Nick. Mike’s solemn voice prepared him to take the bull by the horns.

“Mike said you wanted to see me?”

“Yeah I did.”

Jim noted Nick’s downcast expression. “You both are acting awfully peculiar. Did we do anything to offend you?”

“No, no…it’s not that.” Nick took a lungful before continuing, “I’d like it if you could take me to the spot where you found David.”

“Why?”

Nick stared briefly into Jim’s inquisitive eyes, hoping to be straightforward with the man but instead, his courage melted away. “Dammit this is hard,” he sighed heavily and looked down at his feet. “I reckon there isn’t any other way to say it.”

“Say what?” Jim insisted, his patience wearing a bit thin.

Nick gulped down the growing lump in his throat and lifted his head up. “I have strong reasons to believe that your son is my brother.”

Nick’s bold statement hit Jim like a ton a bricks. A few seconds trickled down before he could get his wind back and utter, “What?”

“That’s not David in there. It’s my brother, Heath.”

“Mister Barkley, what are you trying to do here?” Jim spoke on a biting tone.

“I’m trying to get my brother back.”

“You said he was killed.”

“No, I said I lost him. We never found his body.” Nick pulled out a small family picture from his shirt pocket to show Jim. “Look,” he jabbed a finger at Heath’s face, “That’s him! That’s my brother.”

Jim studied the picture with a smudge of skepticism. “He does look an awful lot like David,” he admitted reservedly.

“Don’t you find it strange that your son, missing for three years, should suddenly pop out of the blue roughly at the same spot and same time that my brother disappeared?”

“My wife knows her son. She says it’s her David.”

“What about you? I saw your face whenever your wife spoke of this incredible twist of fate. You don’t believe it’s him.”

“I only knew David for seven years prior to his disappearance. I’m only his stepfather, so I can’t feel the things that my wife does. He’s her own flesh and blood.”

“Your wife’s been grieving the lost of her son for three years. My brother was gone for six months and already I felt like I was losing my mind. Yes, I can sympathize with her pain. When she saw him out there dying, her heart went out to him and without thinking, she assumed it was David. But it’s obvious to me her grief has blinded her to the truth. She can’t see anyone past her son in that man. She’s seeing with her mind and not her heart.”

“I could say the same for you. Perhaps she’s the one who’s seeing clearly and you just convinced yourself that your saw your brother in David,” Jim retorted.

“Those eyes,” Nick quavered, feeling a tightening in his throat as he stared at Jim with pleading eyes. “I took one look at those eyes and it stabbed,” Nick pounded at his chest, “me right here.”

“This is insane,” Jim stated indignantly, shaking his head in utter disbelief.

“Any more insane than your treating a stranger as your son?” Nick rebuked on a crushing tone.

Jim thought for a second. “Wait a minute. Your name is…Nick.”

“Yeah. What of it?”

“When David started to speak, he kept repeating the word ‘Ick’. We assumed it meant the implement with which he was assaulted: a pick, stick or something. Or even the name of his assailant.”

Nick pounded at his chest emphatically. “He meant me. He was trying to tell ya about me! God’s sake! Why didn’t you mention that before?” he railed with a scorching look, incensed that this new information should surface now.

“I just didn’t make the connection with your name before now. Besides I believe it was for the best not to say anything then.”

“Please, let me take him back home with me?” Nick beseeched.

“And do what?” It’s apparent he doesn’t know who you are.”

“I’ll make him remember.”

“Look…it’s not that I don’t believe you…”

“Just…let me try. Back at the ranch with his family, maybe bits of his memory will return.”

“The doctor did say that familiar surroundings might jog his memory of the past. So far he hasn’t recognized anything or anyone around here.” Jim shut his eyes and heaved a sigh of despair. He was terrified at the prospect of doing more harm than good by letting David ride along with Nick.

“Look Mister Barkley, the last thing I want to do is cause my wife anymore grief than she already suffered. But if you truly believe this man is your lost brother, then we have no right to deny him the truth.”

“Thank you.” Joy welled up inside Nick at Jim’s admission, breathing in new hope of restoring the deep-rooted bond the two brothers once shared.

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do. You’ll leave here with the two mares…”

“No, I…”

“Let me finish,” Jim interrupted with his hand raised in protest. “You and Mike return to your ranch with the two mares. I will then speak to David about taking a trip to Stockton, saying I took you up on your offer to sell me some of your fine horses, but that I want him to appraise the merchandise first.”

“That sounds like a fair plan.”

“I trust you can put him up at your house for a few days?”

“Of course. We’ll settle him in his old room. That ought to spark a memory or two.”

“It’s very important that you advise your family and ranch hands to refer to him as David Whitfield and not Heath Barkley and to treat him as such individual. He cannot be shocked into remembering or that could be fatal.”

“I understand.”

“And I want your solemn promise that if you’re wrong about this, that this young man doesn’t show any sign of recognition, you will not retain him and send him back to us.”

Nick drew in a deep breath as his mind weighed the consequences of his refusal of Jim’s terms. “Agree.”

The two men sealed the deal with a handshake.

A week later, the Barkley household was a beehive of activity as the family prepared to tentatively welcome the lost sheep back to the flock. Nick had briefed each one on the situation at hand, stressing the importance of treating Heath as David Whitfield.

After picking Heath up at the train station, Nick took the scenic route to the ranch, hoping to trigger a reaction to familiar surroundings, but in vain.

At the ranch, Nick stopped the buggy next to the horse paddock where Mike was feeding an apple to Charger.

“Hey, Mike!” Nick shouted, beckoning the blond over to them.

Charger bridled and pricked up his ears at Nick’s voice inflection. As he caught a glimpse of his master shaking hands with Duke, Charger instantly took off at a canter and stopped in front of the four men, snorting, neighing and thudding his front hoof against the ground to make his presence known.

“I think someone’s dying to be introduced.” Heath walked over to the fence and began patting Charger’s head. “And who might you be?”

“That’s Charger. The horse I was telling you about,” Mike said, surprised at the affectionate nudges Charger was readily giving Heath.

“Hello Charger. How do you like your new brush?” Heath made friendly conversation with the spirited horse that kept nuzzling his shoulder.

Mike turned to Nick and Duke who look at each other in amazement.

“Oh my God, Nick. It’s him,” Duke remarked in shock.

Nick shook Duke out of his daze with a hearty slap on the back and beckoned him to the back of the wagon to get David’s luggage.

“So what do you think, Duke?”

Duke cast another glance at Heath still petting the frisky Charger. “The resemblance is staggering. I’m willing to admit that we could be wrong, but animals sense these things. Charger’s instincts are telling us this man is Heath.”

“I didn’t need Charger to tell me that was my little brother.”

“What are you going to do, Nick?”

“I don’t know yet. But whatever it is I’ve only got a week to succeed at it.” Nick hefted the two suitcases off the back of the wagon and walked over to Heath.

“He’s a very affectionate horse,” Heath commented to Nick.

“He’s not usually this frisky. He was like that with only one person and that was his master. Guess you must be remembering him of Heath.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah,” Nick sighed. “You ready to go in the house?”

“Sure. Lead the way! Here, let me take these from you.” Heath had a hand on one suitcase’s handle when Nick wrenched it out of his grip.

“Don’t! You’re a guess. Come on!”

Heath followed Nick to the back door and entered by the kitchen where Silas was stirring a sauce to complement the roast duck, Heath’s favorite dish. On Nick’s request, tonight’s menu was to feature an array of his little brother’s preferred delicacies to indulge his palate and perchance, evoke a glimmer from the past.

Nick elbowed Heath towards Silas who was wiping his hands on the apron. “David, I’d like to meet our butler, Silas. Silas, this is David Whitfield who’ll be bunking with us for a few days,” Nick stated to the black servant who struggled to screen his bewilderment at the familiar smile.

“Please to meet you, Mister David.”

“Please, it’s plain David,” Heath said as he gave Silas a friendly handshake.

“Ah, it’s Silas’s custom to call everyone by their first name, using mister. It started when me and my brother Jarrod got old enough to be called Mister. It was getting very confusing with three Mister Barkleys in the house.”

“I see,” Heath said with a lopsided grin.

“Come, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the family.”

They stepped into the foyer and rounded the archway to the living room where Audra, Jarrod and Victoria all stood.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet David Whitfield.”

As if on cue, all three moved forward to form a crescent around Heath who was fiddling with the rim of his hat.

“David, this here’s my brother Jarrod.”

“How do you do H…David?” Jarrod’s near slip of the tongue received a glare from Nick. He was flabbergasted at the figure standing before him, shaking his hand.

“Fine.”

Nick motioned to Audra standing to the left. “My sister, Audra.”

“Hi Audra.”

“He…hello,” came to broken reply from the flustered girl.

“And this is my mother, Victoria Barkley.”

Victoria took one step forward as Heath extended his arm. She clasped his hand without adverting her gaze from his deep-ocean blues. She silently drew in a deep breath as a wave of emotions washed over, jarring the very core of her being and leaving her in emotional turmoil. She exercised great self-restraint against her yearning to clench the boy into a soul-stirring motherly hug. For now she rested satisfied with a simple handshake and the knowledge that he was indeed alive.

“Hello David. Welcome to our ranch,” she said composedly. “I sincerely hope you’ll like staying with us?”

“I doubt I won’t, Mrs. Barkley. Everyone I’ve met so far has been very obliging.”

“If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.”

Heath slightly knitted his brows at the petite woman’s adoring eyes gazing at him. Like a man struck by a surge of electricity, he stood, anchored to the spot, basking in the odd mixture of feelings she was stirring in the deep forgotten recesses of his mind, creating a personality conflict within him.

“Come on, David. I’ll show you to your room.” Nick offered, breaking Heath’s trance.

‘Somehow that woman seems familiar,’ Heath thought to himself as he followed Nick up the stairs.

Nick nudged Heath’s bedroom door open with his foot and put the suitcases down. “This is it!”

“It’s nice,” Heath admitted while he glanced around the room.

“You’ve got your large closet over there, dresser, water pitcher, washbowl, towels. Sorry there’s no fireplace.”

“It’s okay. I don’t think I’ll be needing one what with the scorching hot weather we’re having lately.”

“True.”

Heath’s eyes continued to rake the modestly furnished room until they came to rest upon a family portrait sitting on the dresser. “Is this your family?” he asked as he ambled up to the dresser for a closer look. He carefully picked up the frame to better scrutinize each face.

“Yeah.” Nick moved closer to Heath to point to the different members. “That’s Jarrod, Audra, Yours Truly, my mother and, “ he paused briefly, “that’s my brother, Heath,” he finished somberly, cocking his eye up to gauge Heath’s reaction.

“He does look a lot like me,” Heath marveled at the striking resemblance that prompted him to brush an index finger distractedly across his mustache. A sign that suggested a crevice in the impregnable wall that Nick was aiming at demolishing with all of his might. Seizing the occasion to widen the cleft, Nick showed Heath a small-sized picture of his mother, Leah.”

“That’s a picture of his mother.”

“His mother?” Heath asked quizzically.

“Yeah. Heath’s my half-brother, though I never considered him as such.”

“You loved him very much?”

“More than life itself.”

“It shows in your eyes whenever you speak of him. There’s genuine adoration. He was a lucky man.”

“I’m the one who’s lucky.” As Nick locked eyes with Heath’s, his chest tightened at the anticipation of finally breaking through.

“You keep referring to him in the present tense,” Heath remarked amiably with a touch of curiosity.

“I just don’t believe he’s dead,” Nick replied plainly with a nervous gulp.

“I see. Hard to let go?”

“Sumpthin’ like that.”

“I’m getting the feeling that you put me in his room?”

“That’s right.”

“Is it all right for me to be here?”

“Sure. Absolutely!” Nick assured with a pat on Heath’s back. “Best room in the house!”

“Thanks.”

“Well, guess you must be plumb tuckered out from that long trip. Do you wanna take a nap before dinner?”

“If you don’t mind?”

“Sure, sure, no problem. We’ll come and wake ya when it’s time to get ready.”

“Am I required to dressed formal?”

“No. It’s casual. Well, I’ll let ya get settle. If you need anything, just ask me or Silas.”

“Thanks Nick.”

“No problem.” Nick stepped out of the room and closed the door. His back slumped against the wall as the weight of his penned up emotions came crashing down on him. With eyes tightly scrunched together to dam up the flow of tears, he exhaled a heavy-laden shuddering breath. “Oh God, give me strength,” he implored with every fiber of his being before returning downstairs.

The next day, Nick planned to take Heath out on a tour of the ranch. He had instructed Silas to prepare a picnic lunch featuring all of Heath’s favorite snacks. When Audra insisted he add to the menu some of her pickled cucumbers, Nick couldn’t resist the temptation to tease his sister about wanting to keep Heath on the ranch and not drive him away.

Nick was made aware of Heath’s sleeping habits by the Whitfields and therefore held off rousing him at the crack of dawn. Instead he occupied his time at sorting out the content of his tackle box as he intended to indulge in some fishing with Heath up at Meadow Creek, their favorite spot.

At around 7:30, Heath pottered down the stairs, drinking in the ostentatious interior design before heading to the dining room for breakfast with Victoria and Audra. The little sister invited him to sample her prize-winning preserves, an overwhelming task that the unsuspected victim was all too willing to oblige.

It wasn’t long before Nick came stomping into the dining room. “David, ya ready?”

“Yep!” He wiped his mouth on the napkin and rose to his feet. “Thank you for a delicious breakfast, Mrs. Barkley.”

“You’re welcomed, David. I’m happy it was to your liking.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The word ‘ma’am’ speared her heart, hurling her back to the first days of Heath’s arrival on the ranch. It took long enough for him to feel comfortable calling her ‘mother’ and feared that history was repeating itself.

Outside, Duke was tightening the cinch on Charger’s saddle when Nick and Heath came into view. Charger pricked up its ears and began snorting with delight at Heath’s presence.

“Look who’s hankering for a hug?” Nick motioned to Charger.

“Hey Charger!” Heath stepped up the pace toward the animal and started patting his neck. “How you doing boy?” Charger responded by nuzzling him on the arm.

“Go ahead, mount up!”

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Heath asked, concerned that he was to ride a deceased’s cherished companion.

“Look how he responds to ya. He wants ya to ride him. Besides he needs the exercise.”

“Well all right. “ Heath swung on the horse’s back and followed Coco at a light canter.

It was near lunchtime when Nick and Heath stopped at Meadow Creek. They dismounted and tethered their horses to an oak tree. Nick tossed a fishing poll at Heath and then led him down to the riverbank.

“This is the perfect spot,” Nick stated as he set the tackle box onto a rock by the gurgling water. “My brother and I used to come here all the time. The river’s teeming with big smackeroos. Although Heath always brags about catching fish as long as your arm, I was the one who…” Nick cut in mid sentence when he picked up on Heath’s sudden moroseness. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Sumpthin’ is wrong. What is it?” Nick probed, hoping the surroundings had goaded Heath’s memory.

“It bothers me when you talk about him.”

“Who? Heath?”

“Yeah. Please don’t take this the wrong way, it’s just that sometimes I get the feeling you’re seeing me in him. I know I bear a strong likeness to your brother, but I’m not him!” Heath stated matter-of-factly, a boldness that shot Nick in the heart.

“I never said you were.”

“Not with words but by the way your stare at me and how you try to make me like him. Take last night at the billiard table. I told you I didn’t think I was any good at it but you argued I was.”

“I didn’t realize it,” Nick repented, mentally kicking himself for his transparent impetuousness.

“If I’d known my presence would be upsetting you so I never would have agreed to come here.”

“I’m sorry. Guess ya wanna skip the fishing then?”

“No, of course not! Just as long as we’re cleared on the matter.”

Nick acquiesced with a small nod of the head. “I’ll…I’ll go fetch the picnic basket.”

Nick berated himself inwardly as he treaded back to untie the hamper around Coco’s saddle horn. He couldn’t afford any more blunders if he were to succeed in his endeavor.

Heath crouched down by the rock where Nick had set the tackle box. As he rummaged through it to find the perfect hook bait, his eyes caught a glimpse of the names ‘Nick’ and ‘Heath’ chiseled in the stone. A burning sensation rose in the pit of his stomach as he delicately brushed his fingers over the letters that had once left an indelible mark on his memory. He exhaled a long shuddering breath as tremors shook his body. He bolted upright and turned away to quell the maelstrom of emotions whirling within.

“What’s the matter?”

Heath fumbled for words that wouldn’t come out.

Nick stepped closer to place a concerned hand on his shoulder. “You aw right?”

“Euh…Nick…can…can we go back to the ranch?” Heath stuttered as he tried to gain control over his inner storm. “I don’t feel very well.”

“Sure. No problem. Hey look…I’m sorry about…”

Heath interrupted Nick’s apology with a wave of the hand. “It’s okay. Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

“Agreed.” Nick kept a concerned eye on a shaken Heath as they marched up to their horses.

...Continued