At first flush the next morning, Nick heaved himself out of bed and shuffled wearily to the dresser to splash water onto his drawn features. A hollow feeling of helplessness formed in the pit of his stomach as his sleep-swollen eyes stared back at him in the mirror. He breathed in a lungful of air. “I can’t let him go,” he exhaled in utter despair. He clamped his eyes shut and buried his chin in his chest to suppress a towering rage threatening to burst. He pounded the dresser to release some of the pressure building within. His lips narrowing into a straight line, he slowly lifted his head up to stare at the now seething dark eyes glaring back at him. “He will stay. One way of the other, Heath will stay.”

With that said, Nick finished cleaning up and slipped on his clothes before heading down the hall to the staircase. As he walked past Heath’s bedroom, a noise caught his attention. He glued his ear against the door. His heart sank at the sound of a drawer opening and closing, telling him that Heath was already packing his belongings.

He drew in a deep breath and lumbered down the stairs and out the front door to the stables where Mike was saddling Coco.

“Good morning, Nick,” greeted the young wrangler. “Coco’s all ready to go.”

“Thanks.” Nick twitched the reins from Mike’s hands and steered the horse out of the barn. “If anyone’ asks after me, tell them I took a ride up Meadow Creek.”

“All right Nick,” Mike answered, somewhat puzzled by Nick’s offhandedness. He watched him spurred Coco at a full tilt towards the main road, wandering why he hadn’t waited for Heath to join him.

Following breakfast, his search for Nick led Heath to the stables where Mike told him of Meadow Creek. As much as he balked at the idea of returning to a place that chilled him to the marrow, Heath mounted Charger and rode off to find Nick. He owned it to him to bid a proper farewell.

Nick was sitting in the grass, his back propped up against a boulder. Lost in his thoughts, he was throwing pebbles absentmindedly into the cascading water that drowned out the thud of approaching hooves.

Heath dismounted and looped the reins around a branch before treading down to the riverbank where Nick was sitting in silent meditation.

“Nick?”

Nick gave a slight start but managed to maintain his poise. “David.”

“I came to say goodbye.”

“I thought you were leaving this afternoon?” Nick said detachedly, staring blankly in front of him as he tossed another pebble into the river.

With downcast eyes, Heath sighed heavily. “I think it’s best I leave now.”

“No,” came to blunt reply.

“Heath’s head shot up. “What?”

Nick cast his last stone into the water and hoisted himself on to the rock. “You’re not leaving here.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Nick turned to Heath with eyes flashing an unyielding determination. “I said you’re not leaving…Heath Barkley,” he said, grinding the words between clenched teeth.”

“Stop calling me that name!” Heath spat with the veins throbbing at his temples.

“It’s your name.”

“No! Why are you doing this?”

Nick took a few steps towards his shaken brother. “Because I need you. I haven’t been whole since the day I lost you on that road to Morganville,” Nick confessed with eyes unleashing a torrent of tears that began pearling down his cheeks as he continued to edge up to Heath standing, rooted to the spot in shock. “And I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose you again.”

“I am not your brother,” Heath stammered with rage.

“Yes you are, dammit!” Nick hissed. “In a week’s time, you recalled things and places on the ranch that you never did back at the Whitfield’s spread. Nuthin’ sparked your memory back there.”

“How would you know what I can and cannot remember?”

“God’s sake, Heath! I’ve seen it in your eyes. Those damn blue eyes of yours that I’ve learned to read like an open book. You can’t fool me Little Brother.”

“I’ve had enough of this!” Heath spun on his heels and marched up to his horse.

“Heath! Look at me!” Nick ordered on a biting tone.

Heath stopped but wouldn’t face Nick.

“Look at me!!!!!!” Nick spewed out with a scornful curl of the lip.

Heath’s breaths came in ragged gasps as his temper began to fray at Nick’s impertinence. He swung around with bleary eyes blazing murderously.

“You take a good look at me.” Nick stomped over to Heath to stare him eyeball to eyeball. “Stare into my eyes and swear you don’t recognize me.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes you do, Heath!”

“Stop calling me that!” he warned with a crazed look.

“Remember ‘Ick’?”

Heath’s eyes shot wide open at the word.

“Jim said it was the first word that came out of your mouth when you could finally articulate. ‘Ick’. You kept repeating the word over and over, ‘ick’, ‘ick’, ‘ick’. You were calling ME!”

“No!” Heath quavered, his body breaking into convulsions as he felt his wall tumbling down.

“Yes! It was me. Nick. Your brother.”

“Nooooooo!” Heath lashed out, hurling Nick backwards and causing him to lose his footing. He fell and bashed his head against a rock.

Involuntary spasms coursed through Heath’s body as he tried to harness the fury of emotions that Nick’s earful had unleashed. He grabbed his head in agony, digging his nails into the scalp. Through tear-clouded eyes, he saw Nick’s limp form lying unconscious on the ground, blood oozing from the head wound.

“Noooooooo!” Heath dove to his knees and shook Nick hysterically. “Oh God, I’m sorry…I’m sorry,” he bawled, panicking at the scene that played out like in his nightmare. He started to retch and dry-heaved a few times before emptying the content of his stomach. With trembling hands, he untied Nick’s neck cloth to use it a bandage to stem the blood flow. He then staggered to his feet and lurched up the slope. Emotionally drained, his knees buckled under the strain but he crawled on all four to reach his horse. He grabbed one stirrup to heave himself up on his wobbly legs. With one carefully calculated swing, he got on Charger’s back and kicked him toward the ranch to get help.

Hours later, Victoria, Audra and Heath were gathered in the living room, each coping with their own degree of angst as they anxiously awaited Dr. Merar’s diagnosis on Nick’s condition. Victoria was staring blankly out the window, with arms folded across her chest and her head leaning heavily against the French doors frame.

For her part, Audra was gnawing at her nails while wearing a hole in the carpet, whereas Heath was hunched over in an armchair with his head buried in his hands.

“Mother, Doctor Merar’s been up there a long time,” Audra remarked, breaking the silence that roused Victoria out of her gloomy thoughts.

A strained smile tugged at the anguished mother’s lips as she moved over to her daughter to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure Doctor Merar wishes to be thorough in his examination of your brother’s injuries. I wouldn’t worry about Nick. You know how hardheaded he is?” she said laughingly, wringing a flicker of a smile from Audra who nodded in agreement.

Victoria’s hopeful expression slowly turned into a frown of concern for Heath who sat, prostrated with grief. She could feel the oppression of a humongous guilt that the young man was already shouldering. She edged up to him and ran a soothing hand through in hair.

“David, don’t worry so much. Nick is tougher than you think.”

With his eyes clamp shut, Heath tossed his head back to gulp in a shuddering breath. He rubbed his eyes dry of tears before rising to his feet and walking over to the fireplace. He took another deep breath to summon his courage to face the moment of truth.

“I want you to me honest with me.” His voice cracked with emotions as he slowly stepped up to Victoria with whom he locked stares. “When you look at me, when you stare into my eyes…who do you see? This stranger, David Whitfield or your son, Heath Barkley?”

She took one step closer to him and gently placed her hand on his tear-bedewed cheek. She swallowed hard the lump caught in her throat before she voiced her heart’s genuine feelings, “I see my son…Heath Barkley.”

Heath’s penned up emotions gushed out in a torrent of tears as he fell into her arms. She clenched him into a soul-stirring embrace, feeling his body shivering with sobs.

“I want so much to remember you,” he wept, hugging her tightly, afraid to let go.

She gingerly disengaged the hold to cup his face in her hands and wipe his tears with her thumbs. “To some extend, you do; otherwise you never would have asked that question.”

They momentarily lost themselves in the mirrors of their souls before Dr. Merar’s hawking broke their trance.

All three rushed over to him with wide expectant eyes.

“Howard, how is he?”

The reassuring smile that crossed the careworn family doctor’s face spoke louder than words. “That boy of yours has a thick skull. The gash required a few stitches but other than that, he’ll be just fine.”

A ripple of sighs of relief ran through the emotionally fraught atmosphere.

Victoria closed her eyes and placed a hand on her chest, giving thanks to the Lord for sparing her son’s life.

“A few days’ rest and he should be as good as new. Keep him in bed for the next forty-eight hours or so. Feed him broth and light crackers. If he doesn’t feel too dizzy, allow him to take small trips to the water closet but be sure that he has constant supervision in case he should lose his balance and aggravate his injury.”

“We will, Howard. Thank you.”

“He’s asked to see you, young man,” Merar said to Heath.

Heath searched Victoria’s eyes for her approval. She smiled and nodded her consent, squeezing his hand before he left for Nick’s room.

He rapped on the bedroom door.

“Come in!” came the hoarse voice from inside.

Heath opened the door and shyly poked his head in. “Hi!”

“Hey! Come on in!” Nick invited with a smile, beckoning Heath in with a wave of the hand.

Heath stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “The doctor said you were going to be okay,” he informed as he approached the bed.

“Course I’m gonna be aw right,” Nick barked, slightly wincing at the pain his bellowing timbre of voice caused.

“Better tone down that voice of yours, Nick, if you want your head to heal proper.”

Nick looked up at Heath with glimmering adoration-filled eyes. “I missed that bantering…brother,” he said, his voice faltering at the last word in fear of frightening his emotionally vulnerable brother. “Sit down,” he invited with a tap on the bed beside him.

Heath drew in a breath to clear his inner turmoil before seating himself on the bed.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you…”

“It’s okay. I know why you did it.”

A brief restrained silence fell between the two brothers before Nick spoke up with a quavering voice.

“Will you stay?”

Heath felt a tightening in his chest at Nick’s direct question. He found it impossible to make contact with his brother’s imploring hazel eyes as he pondered his request.

“Please, give us a chance,” Nick pleaded, adding to Heath’s torment. He fiddled with his fingers distractedly to avoid Nick’s stare he knew would melt his fortitude.

“All right, Nick.” He turned to Nick “I guess I owe us this much.”

Nick’s face fashioned a broad grateful smile at Heath’s answer. “Thanks,” he whispered with a tap on Heath’s shoulder.

“You were right. I’ve been recalling places and things on this ranch that aroused emotions I simply cannot dismiss. What’s frustrating is that I can’t place any of those memories. It’s like they’re right here in front of me, inches away,” he quavered with an outstretched arm to give emphasis to his explanation, “ but I can’t grab them.”

Nick gently clasped Heath’s trembling hand. “They will come. We’ll all help you get a firm hold of them.”

A sudden wave of guilt washed over Heath at the thought of forsaking the Whitfields for a family he was just barely getting reacquainted with. “I can’t do this to my family.”

“You mean the Whitfields?”

“Yes. Nick, they saved my life. They nursed me back to health. They’re the reason why I’m alive today.”

“Jim already knows.”

“Knows what?”

“He had his doubts about you being David. Why d’ya think he sent ya on this trip? The horses were just an excuse to get ya to agree.” Nick elbowed himself up and propped his back against the headboard. “It only took one look into your eyes for me to know that ya were my little brother. He said if it proved to be true, he had no right to deny you your rightful heritage. And that he’d find a way to explain it to his wife.”

“I can’t do this to her.”

“It’s better she knows the truth now than go on living a lie. It’s not fair to her or to you…to all of us concerned, Heath.”

Heath sighed heavily at the name that somehow lulled him into a sense of security. “Heath Barkley. I guess I’ll have to get used to being called that name from now on?”

“You bet.”

“Do you realize that if you hadn’t come to the ranch to look at the Appaloosas, you and I might never have found each other?”

“But I did. And we have. It was meant to be.”

Heath smiled at Nick. “There’s that look again.”

“What look?”

“That look of genuine affection. Remember when I said your brother was a lucky man?”

“And I said: I’m the one who’s lucky.” Tears began to suffuse in Nick’s eyes as he gripped Heath’s arm and said. “Welcome home, Little Brother.”

Heath sent a wire to the Whitfields to inform them of his arrival of Friday afternoon. He had decided to extend his stay at the Barkley ranch on account of Nick’s injury and hinted to Jim in a cleverly disguised ‘thanks for this opportunity to see my way clearer’ statement that he was to return to bid a last farewell.

Two days later, Jim came to pick up Heath at the train station. His throat closed spastically and his heart pounded against his ribcage at the sound of the whistle blowing in the distance. He had nurtured high hopes that Nick Barkley’s hunch would prove false for his wife’s sake. Much as he was pleased for the young man’s good fortune, he was also saddened that the golden boy was not his son.

Jim took a deep breath to quell his grief as the train pulled at the station. He met Heath as he was alighting from the wagon, giving him a welcoming slap on the back before relieving him of his suitcases. They engaged in small talk as they walked to the buggy and drove out of town.

The junction between Morganville and Edgell prompted Heath to heave a melancholic sigh in spite of himself.

“You found out who you were, didn’t you?” Jim asked casually, thus breaking the tense silence between them.

Heath drew in another lungful. “To be honest, I’m still not sure, but I have this gnawing feeling in my gut that I’ve been on that ranch before. It’s not so much faces, but objects, places.” Heath paused briefly to gather his thoughts before continuing, “The name Heath Barkley rings truer than David Whitfield somehow. But I get these painful headaches if I so much cudgel my brains into remembering,” he explained with a wince.

“Son, you’ve stayed at the Barkleys’ for a little over a week and already your memory has been jarred. You lived with us for six months without the tinniest spark. You and I both know what that means.”

Closing his eyes to keep his tears from trickling down his cheeks, Heath inhaled deeply and lowered his head as he felt his heart welling up with grief. His scorched soul was torn between two wonderful families, each yearning to wreathe him in an unconditional love that he desperately needed. The mere thought of having to choose between the two tore him apart.

“I owe you both so much.”

“Pretending to be someone you’re not is no way to show your gratitude, son. You need to be honest with me, with Georgia, your family back in Stockton and most importantly, you must be honest with yourself.”

“When you look at me, you don’t see David, do you?” Heath asked somewhat rhetorically as he already knew the answer.

“I’ve tried, for my wife’s sake. She was so sure you were her missing son. Granted, there were staggering similarities in the physical features, but…” Jim bit his lower lip and shook his head. “Something your brother said that made sense: he told me that maybe Georgia was seeing you with her mind and not truly with her heart. She embraced a stranger who looked like her David to seek shelter from the agony she’d suffered all these years, wondering where he was.”

“That does make sense,” Heath agreed.

“Olivia saw it too. One gaze into your eyes and she knew you weren’t the man she first fell in love with. The eyes themselves change in the course of time, but they usually reflect the same soul. Yours didn’t.”

“I like that girl very much,” Heath mused, smiling reminiscently at the moonlit strolls they took with their arms entwined.

“The feeling’s mutual. She can’t wait to see you.”

“She’s still at the ranch?”

“Of course!

“She loves David, not me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, son. She’s in love with what’s in here,” Jim explained with a hand on his heart. “I understand you’re confused right now, but let me tell you that there’s a glimmer of hope in those eyes of yours that wasn’t there when you left.”

“Thank you for your understanding and for not being angry at me. The last thing I want to do is cause you grief.”

Jim smiled and placed a hand on Heath’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you…Heath.”

Heath reciprocated with his trademark lopsided grin.

Under Jim’s instructions, Heath continued to play the part of David to spare Georgia any unnecessary heartache. Much as he struggled to deny it, Georgia’s embrace failed to awaken the same emotions that the warmth of Victoria Barkley’s arms did. Was it a subconscious reaction or a result of his confused state?

Over dinner, Jim broached the subject of the cattle drive at the Barkleys. Apparently short of hands, Nick had asked David to join them.

“Oh David, a cattle drive? How long will you be away?” Georgia asked with concern, rubbing a hand on his forearm that rested on the table.

“At least a month,” Heath said sheepishly, avoiding her direct stare that he feared might decipher the real reason behind this trip. “It’s something I really want to do.”

“It’ll be good for the boy, Georgia,” Jim chimed in on Heath’s behalf.

“If you feel so strongly about it, who am I to say no? I just want what’s best for you, but at the same time I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt,” Heath reassured smilingly. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Sitting on Heath’s right, Olivia cocked her head to glance up at his face. That strained smile gracing his lips was glaringly belying his emotions. It saddened her to think he was leaving for good, for she had grown to love this man, Heath Barkley, in the short time they spent together, and was living in hopes of engaging in a steady relationship. Her heart shattered at the prospect of losing him to the Barkleys. ‘He’ll forget all about me,’ she thought to herself.

Heath glanced her way and threw her a friendly wink that somehow renewed her blighted hopes.

Following dinner, Heath invited Olivia to stroll the grounds. A glimmering moonbeam lit their path as they sauntered, arm in arm, through Georgia’s flower garden.

“It’s a beautiful night,” she observed dreamily as she gently leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Indeed,” he replied while looking at her with a glint in his eyes. “But I only have eyes for you.”

“You’re sweet, ”she said, bowing her head shyly and burying her chin in his shoulder.

He stopped to clasp both of her hands. “Olivia.”

“Yes…Heath,” she said with eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Jim told you?”

“He did, though I already knew you weren’t David the moment I stared into those bright eyes of yours.”

They drank in the genuine love mirrored in their eyes as their gazes met, drawing them closer until their lips touched in a tender kiss. She ran her hands up his back as an invitation to deepen the kiss, sending chills down his spine. He responded by pressing his body firmly against hers and parted her lips to taste the sweetness of her mouth.

With much reluctance, Heath disengaged the intoxicating embrace to gaze into her beaming eyes. “I love you, Olivia Grant, but I don’t feel I can ask you to marry me not knowing who I really am. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Heath,” she cupped his head firmly in her hands, “I love YOU. You, the person who’s right in here.” She pressed the palm of her right hand against his heart. With her left, she lovingly stroked his cheek. “I’m willing to wait for as long as it takes you to be sure you’re ready.”

He pulled her into a soul-stirring hug, breathing in the heady fragrance of her long brown hair as she gently caressed the back on his head.

Days cascaded down to a week, during which time the young couple’s relationship blossomed into a serious romance. Heath wished to spend every waking moment with Olivia before departing for Stockton. She accompanied the Whitfields at the train station to kiss him goodbye, her heart already longing for his return.

Nick came to pick up Heath at the train station to drive him to the ranch. The topic of their conversation centered on the forthcoming cattle drive that they both felt would jog Heath’s memory of the past and eventually knit them together tightly than ever.

At the house, once the handshakes, hugs and kisses were dispensed, Nick carried Heath’s suitcases up the stairs, his little brother following close behind with his saddlebag slung over one shoulder.

Nick tossed the luggage at the feet of the bed and offered Heath a gracious hand with the unpacking.

“What’s up with you, Little Brother,” Nick queried curiously as he handed Heath a neatly folded shirt.

“What do you mean?” Heath asked innocently while tucking the garment inside the top drawer of his dresser.

“You’ve got a strange glint in your eyes. It’s a girl, ain’t it?” Nick surmised with a broad toothy grin. Heath turned to Nick to see him wag his eyebrows teasingly. “It’s that Olivia gal?”

“Yeah.”

“She seemed quite taken with you that time I stayed over for dinner.”

“She knows about me, Nick. She said she fell in love with my heart and soul and not my appearance.”

“She sounds like a wonderful girl.”

“Yes, she is. I’ve asked her to marry me nut not until I get my full memory back,” Heath said solemnly.

Nick stepped up to his pensive brother and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “That’s what I aim to do with this cattle drive; to get you whole again, just like your return did for me.”

A grateful smile tugged at Heath’s lips as he turned to look at Nick. “Thanks Nick.”

“Anytime, Little Brother. Hope we’ll get to meet this gal of yours?”

“Of course.”

Nick returned to the bed to pick another shirt out of the suitcase. “I promise I won’t try to steal her away from you like you do with practically all the girls I bring over to the house,” he joked while he handed the shirt over to Heath who froze at the mention of Nick’s girlfriends. “Heath?”

Heath’s brow wrinkled, his face slowly contorted with pain from a sudden throbbing headache.

Nick bolted to his side in a panic. “Heath, what’s wrong? Heath?”

Heath clamped his eyes shut and grabbed his head in agony as he felt his brain about to explode.

“Mother!” Nick shouted frantically.

Nick wrapped one hand around Heath’s waist and assisted him to the bed. “Here, sit down.”

Heath gulped in a shuddering breath and lowered himself down gently on the rim of the mattress. “I’m okay now.”

Nick bent forward, cocking his head sideways to peer at Heath’s agonized face. “You don’t look aw right.”

Victoria, Jarrod and Audra all rushed up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Nick, what’s wrong?” Victoria asked in a tizzy.

“I don’t know. All over sudden he grabbed his head in agony.”

Victoria sat next to Heath to run a hand across his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

“It was just a headache, ma’am. It’s all gone now.” Heath inhaled deeply to deaden the remaining twinges.

“I’ll go fetch the doctor,” Nick said plainly, not leaving room for debate.

“Nick, I’m all right,” Heath insisted, though Nick was already hurtling down the stairs before his last word was spoken. When the smart subsided, Heath hazarded to delve deeper into the innermost recesses of his mind, hoping to rummage through the memory repository that Nick appeared to have unlocked. The pain rushed back with a vengeance soon after the word ‘Indian Springs’ burst forth.

Victoria got up and fluffed up the pillows. “Lie down, Heath.” She cupped the back of his head to ease it down on the pillows.

Jarrod took a hold of his legs and stretched them out on the bed before he removed his shoes. Audra was standing by the bed, wincing at the sight of her brother’s contorted features.

“Mother, is there anything I can do?” she asked, eager to be helpful in alleviating Heath’s pain.

“Yes, dear. You could go get a pitcher of cold water and a few hand towels.”

“Okay.”

Audra left to go fetch the items while Victoria unfolded a quilt and spread over Heath. Much to her relief, her son’s pain appeared to be dwindling into mere twinges. She poised herself on the rim of the bed and began stroking his cheek. “Take it easy, Heath. The doctor will be here shortly.”

“Those killer headaches shoot through my brain whenever I start remembering.”

“What triggered this one, Heath?” Jarrod asked.

“Something Nick said about his girlfriends.” Heath gritted his teeth at the feel of a third wave of pain threatening. He clamped his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, drawing in deep intakes of air to quell the smart. “I remember something about Indian Springs and a girl named Heather…I think.”

Victoria’s eyes widened with shock. She turned to Jarrod with a bewildered look.

“Heath, that was Hester Converse,” Jarrod corrected as he moved closer to the bed and sat on a chair. “What else do you recall?” he asked with anticipation.

Heath moaned in pain as he strived to reach deeper into his subconscious. His hand went to his throat. “Some...someone tried to strangle me.” He curled up on his side when the efforts sent him into the throes of agony.

“All right, that’s enough,” Victoria urged both of her children while rubbing a soothing hand on Heath’s shoulder. How she wanted to absorb his pain, make it all better. Her enthusiasm at Heath’s progress was considerably dampened by the torture he was experiencing.

Audra returned with the water and towels. Victoria instructed her to empty the content of the pitcher into a washbowl and to dunk a towel in it. She wrung the cloth dry of its excess water before handing it over to her mother who applied it gently onto Heath’s brow.

Less than an hour later, Nick showed up with Dr. Merar. He ushered him into Heath’s bedroom where Victoria was still sitting on the bed, watching her son rest his eyes.

“Mother, how is he?” Nick asked with great concern.

“I’m okay, Nick,” came the weak reply.

Victoria vacated her seat for the doctor who sat to take Heath’s pulse. “Nick tells me you’ve been having painful headaches,” Merar queried while glancing at his pocket watch to count the heartbeats.

“Some, yes. They always start when I’m so close to remembering things from my past,” Heath explained dejectedly, sinking his head deeper into the pillow.

“I see. And when did they start?”

“I’d say right after I left here to go to Edgell.”

Nick’s chest tightened as a sense of extreme guilt suddenly crept over him. “After the incident at Meadow Creek. Where I tried to drum into your head that you were Heath Barkley, wasn’t it?”

Heath offered no comment. He simply lowered his eyes and suspired.

Dr. Merar proceeded to examine Heath’s head, groping it for any possible fracture or gash that might be an alternate reason for his headaches. When he found none, he reached into his medical bag to take out a flask of powdered aspirin. He stood from the bed and stepped up to Victoria. “If the headaches return, dilute a spoonful of this medicine into a glass of water and have him drink it. It will ease the pain. Use every four hours if needed.”

She took the flask. “Okay. Anything else?”

“Not for now. I will return tomorrow to check back on him. In the meantime, have him rest for a few hours. I have a feeling he’s tired from the trip.”

“Some,” Heath breathed out as he forfeited the fight to his sagging eyelids.

Dr. Merar beckoned Nick and Victoria out of the room. She glanced back at her weary son before closing the door to join Nick and Howard in the hall.

“What’s going on, Doc? Is Heath gonna be okay?” Nick asked with his fists on hips in a tough stance to mask his anguish.

“I don’t know. These headaches are not normal. They seem to be a defense mechanism against any mention of his past. He wants to remember, only his brain won’t allow him to.”

“But why?” Nick asked quizzically.

“I hate to say it Nick, but it might have something to do with the harsh treatment you subjected him to. You said you shocked him into remembering who he was?”

Nick started wiggling uncomfortably, shifting his weight from one leg to another. “Yeah. He was leaving. I…I just...I couldn’t let him. I didn’t know what else to do.” Nick stammered on a slightly apologetic tone.

“His brain didn’t appreciate being jarred of the sort and it’s striking back.”

“But those headaches…they’ll eventually go away, right?”

“With time, maybe. Or…”

“Or what?”

“They might get worse and cause irreversible brain damage.”

“You gotta be kidding us, Doc!” Nick sneered.

“I’m serious Nick. I advise you to take it easy on him for the next few days. Don’t ask him too many questions; refrain yourselves from traveling down memory lane in his presence. If not harried, his mind might just eventually allow him to painlessly retrieve the memories.”

“What if he asks us questions?”

“Then answer them truthfully. It might hurt him, but it’ll be less painful than if you plant the thought in his mind.”

Nick sighed heavily and raked his fingers through his matted hair. “Then I guess the cattle drive is out of the question.”

“When is that?”

“Day after tomorrow. He was so looking forward to it. He was confident this would jog his memory back,” Nick said regretfully.

“That might be too much of a strain on him. But let’s just see how he is tomorrow and then we’ll discuss it.” Merar said with a comforting hand on Nick’s shoulder. He turned to Victoria and squeezed her hand. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Thank you Howard.”

In the cool of the evening, The Barkleys gathered in the living room for a cocktail before adjourning to the dining room for dinner. They had agreed to let Heath rest some more and bring him a tray later. While they were eating, Heath was in his room shaving off his mustache. He tidied himself up, and then climbed down the stairs to the dining room to join the assembled company.

“Hey, look who’s up?” Nick exclaimed.

“Sorry I’m late. I though somebody would wake me up.” He took the vacant seat next to Victoria.

“When I went up to your room, you were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t have the heart to disturb you,” Victoria explained with a friendly tap on his hand.

“Notice anything different about me?” Heath asked proudly.

Nick frowned. “You got rid of that stupid mustache of yours.”

“Nick!” Victoria scolded.

“Sorry Mother.”

“No it’s okay. I admit I didn’t like it either.”

“See!”

Heath placed his napkin neatly on his lap before he started helping himself with the food. “I’m sorry to be such a bother.”

“What are you babbling about?”

“I’m talking about the headaches, having to call the doctor on me.”

“We’re used to it,” Nick blurted out, his face crumpling at the blunder that his family’s withering glares were quick to point out.

“I wouldn’t know, sorry.”

All stares were on Heath, expecting another headache to surface at the reminder.

“Why are you all staring at me like that?” He looked down at himself. “Something wrong with my clothes?”

“Euh, no…no,” Nick stuttered nervously. “I guess it’s the absence of hair on your face that caught our attention,” he fibbed.

“I see. Sure am looking forward to that cattle drive.”

All four pair of eyes darted between one to the other, wondering which brave soul would volunteer to speak up.

“Ah Heath, the doc, he…well…he don’t think you ought to go.” Nick faltered without looking up from his plate.

“What? Why not?”

“It’s on account of those headaches of yours, Sweetheart,” Victoria explained with a calm hand on his shoulder. “The trip might be too much of a strain for you.”

“But it’s the reason why I came back,” Heath argued forcefully before turning to Nick with pleading eyes. “Nick, you said you’d help me remember.”

“I did and look what’s doing to ya?”

“Those headaches are proof that I’m starting to remember. I need to go through all the way. I want to know who I really am, who you all are. I need to see familiar places and faces, get a taste of the ranch routine. Out there on the range, I know I get the feel of what it was like before my accident. I need to find my past or I won’t have any future,” he ended on a heartrending beseeching tone. “Please, don’t take that away from me. I trust you.”

Nick closed his dewy eyes in utter despair. His heart pounded out of his chest, ready to burst apart at his brother’s desperate plea. “Aw right, you can come. But if you get hurt I swear I’ll kill you,” Nick scolded amicably with a jab of his fork.

Heath gave one of his famous lopsided grin. “Thanks Nick.”

Nick grunted his reply.

Bright and early the next morning, Heath and Nick geared up to embark on a journey both felt confident would prove salutary for Heath’s memory. After entertaining their inner man with a hearty breakfast, they bid a last farewell to the family before heading to the barnyard where Mike was tightening the cinch on Charger’s saddle.

“Good morning, Heath, Nick.”

“Mike! Are you riding along with us?” Heath asked.

“Ah, no. Mike’s staying here to supervise the ranch with Duke,” Nick answered for the young man, whose eyes shone with pride at this huge responsibility Nick had delegated upon him.

“That’s right. I hope you have a great time on the trail.”

“I’m certainly looking forward to it,” Heath said smilingly as he straddled his mount and cast Nick a look of eager anticipation.

Nick shared Heath’s enthusiasm at the prospect of spending some quality time on the range, like they so often did before the unforeseen twist of events that nearly robbed him of his kid brother for life. His mind was now at ease about Heath joining the drive since Dr. Merar had given him the green light, providing he brought the medicine along with him.

“Well, let’s go!” Nick spurred Coco at a light trot out of the yarn with Heath following close behind.

Soon, they met with the other men and off they went on their three-week expedition.

About twenty miles down the trail, they led the herd to green pastures. While the cattle grazed on the lush grass and quenched their thirst in the stream, Nick, Heath and the men settled down to eat. The brothers chose the retreat from the group and sat underneath a broad-leaved oak tree that provided a welcoming shelter from the sweltering heat.

While the other drovers gathered round the chuck wagon, Nick and Heath rummaged through their saddlebags for the lunch Silas had packed for them. Heath cocked his head and frowned quizzically at a neatly folded wax paper package. Nick cast him an amused sidelong glance as he unwrapped it, revealing a slice of raisin bread.

“I asked Silas to throw that one in, knowing it’s your favorite.”

Heath flashed a half-hearted smile. “Thanks Nick.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t remember it’s my favorite,” Heath said with a heavy-laden sigh.

Nick gave Heath an emboldening clap on the back. “You will,” he said, trying to sound convincing as his smile slowly faded into a worried frown while he squeezed the back of his little brother’s neck.

“Boy Howdy Nick, I tell ya, that’s some roster. You could fry an egg on a rock,” Heath commented as he wiped the beads of perspiration pearling down his brow with the back of his hand.

Heath’s trademark expression caught Nick by surprise. He removed his teeth from his sandwich and stared bewildered at Heath. “What d’ya say?”

“What?”

“Boy Howdy!”

“I did?”

“Yeah.” Nick broke into a broad grin. “That’s what Heath says all the time.”

Heath’s eyes swiveled back and forth, nervous twitches crossing his face as he attempted to retrieve any bits of memory associated with the expression. He closed his eyes. “Strawberry. I remember somewhere called Strawberry.”

Nick dropped his sandwich in a flurry of excitement and turned to Heath. “That’s right. It’s a small mining town. You were born there.”

Heath’s face puckered. “Oh God!” he snarled between clenched teeth at the searing pain growing in his head. “Mama. I…I remember my mama,” he stuttered, his voice cracking with emotions as the memories came rushing back.

Nick wrapped a protective arm around Heath’s shuddering shoulders, squeezing them tight as to alleviate some of the torment he was experiencing. “That’s right. Do you know her name?”

“Leah. Leah Thomson,” Heath gasped out, puffing out a small chuckle at his feat. He turned to Nick. “Nick, I remember my mama,” he enthused with tears rushing to his eyes.

“That’s good, Heath. That’s real good,” he rejoiced, joining his brother in a joyous laugh.

Heath’s happiness was swiftly washed over by a wave of fear as the word ‘Carterson’ suddenly sprung into mind.

“Heath, what is it?”

Heath raised a hand to his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath.

“Headache again?” Nick quickly foraged in Heath’s saddlebag for the flask of powdered aspirin.

“It’s all right, Nick. It’ll go away. I just remember something about a place called Carterson.”

Nick’s eyes shot wide open at the name. “You don’t want to remember that.”

Heath turned to Nick with pained eyes. His face crumpled at the smart invading his mind. Nick scrambled for a small container to fill it with water, in which he put a dash of the medicine to dilute it. He handed the tin cup over to Heath.

“Here, drink this.”

Heath greedily gulped down the medicine, after which he rested his head against the tree trunk. “I’m sorry,”

“For what?”

“For making you regret having taken me on this drive. That’s what you’re thinking right now, aren’t you?”

Nick propped his back against the trunk next to Heath. “No. I’m just cross at your brain for not letting ya remember without pain.”

“You’re not the only one,” Heath sighed with annoyance. He wrapped his sandwich and put it back inside his saddlebag. “If you don’t mind, Nick. I think I’ll take a nap before we move on.”

“Yeah sure. Go right ahead.”

Heath lay on the ground and curled up on his side, placing his hat over his head to create some shade. Nick gazed at him with a pinch in his heart. ‘Will his brother ever come back to him whole?’ his mind questioned.

After covering another twenty-something miles of ground, the men decided to camp out for the night. Dusk was settling in the horizon with its pink-tinged clouds as the hungry cowpokes swarmed around the chuck wagon for a hot meal.

The afternoon had proceeded better than anticipated. Much to their astonishment, they were actually ahead of schedule. Nick hoped to borrow some of that spare time to show Heath some of the familiar places in the vicinity.

In the hush of night, while the other men were sleeping soundly, Heath lay awake, staring at a clear sky sprinkled with bright stars. He smiled reminiscently at the memory of his mama, a fleeting image that was soon washed away by the grim face of a man that his aching mind fought to erase.

As the pounding headache aroused, Heath strived to smother his groans of pain for fear to rouse Nick sleeping on his left. Quietly, he reached for the flask of powdered aspirin that he kept handy in his saddlebag. He took his canteen and poured some water into his tin cup to mix the powder. He drank the content and laid his head back against his seat of his saddle, heaving a heavy-laden sigh at his failure to put a name to that face. ‘Was he a friend or a foe?’ the man was somehow associated with a painful past that was buried deep in the recesses of his mind.

The more he struggled to unlock that bolted drawer, the worse the pain became. He closed his eyes and curled up on his side, hoping to quell the smart. His agonized mind finally shut down and plunged him into a deep sleep.

...Continued