"He's not here," Nick's exasperated voice advised as Jarrod entered the room a few moments after him.

"You don't sound surprised," Jarrod replied, his eyes taking in the dishevelled sheets of the empty bed.

"Well, are you? You know Heath. First opportunity he finds to get out of a sick bed and he takes it. We should have taken his pants."

"Not sure it would have made any difference, he was wearing long johns underneath. He still would have made his escape."

"Well, next time we take those too!"

"He's a grown man, Nick." Jarrod reasoned.

"Only sometimes," replied Nick, determined to have the last word where his little brother was concerned.

They both looked around the room. Whilst their brother was gone, some of his things still remained; his left boot for one and his tan vest and hat for another. Wherever Heath had gone to, he was clearly only partially dressed and not thinking clear.

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"Let's try the back stairwell. He can't have got far." Nick suggested. Jarrod nodded and collected Heath's missing boot, vest and hat on the way.

As suspected, Heath really hadn't got very far. They found him sitting forlornly, head against the wall, half-way down the stairwell leading out to the back yard.

Nick tapped him on the shoulder. "Going somewhere?"

"Going home," Heath slurred, clearly exhausted from the short distance he had traveled so far.

"Sure you are pal," Nick humored. "C'mon let's get you back to bed. We'll get you home later, I promise."

Heath stood up unsteadily, causing Nick to grab hold of his belt and balance him. "Told you, Nick. I'm going home. I'm going to speak to Meg."

"But Meg's coming here, Heath. The boys left half an hour ago to go fetch her. C'mon Heath. Look at you, you're about ready to fall. You've only got one boot, your pants are at half-mast and your not wearing your hat."

Heath shook his brother's hand off and attempted to hitch up his pants over his hips. His fingers then tried unsuccessfully to button them from the front so as to keep them in place.

Nick watched his brother's pathetic attempts. "Oh for heaven sake! Let me," he said, waving Heath's hands off and buttoning up his brother's pants for him.

"Thanks," Heath mumbled.

Nick turned to Jarrod, "Reason with him! Will you?"

"Nick's right, Heath," counseled Jarrod. "C'mon let Nick and I help you get back to bed. As soon as Meg gets here, we'll send her up to see you, I promise."

Heath turned and continued his shaky descent downstairs. "Going this way," he said stubbornly.

Jarrod and Nick had no choice but to follow him so that he didn't fall down the stairs. Once outside, Heath made his way to the horses and tried to mount Charger. Normally, the most graceful of riders, his attempt looked clownish and clumsy as he struggled to get up into the saddle, using the wrong foot, his backside pushed up in the air and his balance completely off.

"And just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Nick asked, anger replacing his previous display of tolerance.

"Don't stand there bellowing at me Nick. Get me on my horse, will you? I can't find the saddle."

"You can't find the front of the horse either, you damned fool! You're facing the wrong way. Get down, before you fall down. You ain't fit to ride home."

"I will be if you get up here with me. Hurry Nick, I'm feeling nauseous up here. Charger won't keep still."

Looking at Charger standing rock steady for Heath, Nick and Jarrod sighed, knowing that no matter how long they argued, Heath was determined on riding home, with or without them.

Taking Heath's boot, vest and hat from his brother, Nick turned to Jarrod. "Tell Mother and Meg, when she gets here, what's happened to him," Nick sighed. "I'll get the boy home safely. We'll have no peace otherwise. And they say I'm the stubborn one. I don't even come close."

Jarrod nodded. "No telling what damage he'll do to himself on the ride home, Nick. He should be in bed."

"I know," Nick agreed, "But you know if we put him back there, he'll just make a bid for freedom again. Don't worry, I'll look after him. He's given me enough practice over the years... Heath?"

"Yeah, Nick?" Heath replied from his precarious position. "Where are you?"

"Well, right now I'm looking at the most intelligent part of you ," Nick replied, as he stared at Heath's up-ended butt. Taking hold of Heath's belt, he pushed and shoved his brother into the saddle and climbed up behind him. With Heath settled, he turned to Jarrod and said, "See you back at the ranch."

"Can't you ride any faster?" Heath protested.

"Stop complaining, Heath. We'll get there soon. You know when we get there, Meg's going to be half-way to the Davidsons. This is a damned stupid idea of yours. Not for the first time today, you and Meg will be going in opposite directions."

"I've been bloody stupid, Nick!"

"Alleluia! If that ain't the first sensible thing you've said all day."

"Meg loves me, Nick, and I love her."

"That will come as some relief to those seven kids of yours." Nick joked.

"Being serious, Nick."

"I know you are, Heath. Look I'm glad you are finally seeing reason. I'm sure when you talk to Meg, the both of you will get things settled between you. Just rest now, Heath. We'll be home soon."

"We'll get there a damned sight quicker if you stopped weaving Charger from side to side, Nick. Geez! Don't you know how to ride in a straight line. I'm getting awfully dizzy up here. Gotta stop Nick, I'm going to be ...... " The sound of retching was all Nick could hear next as Heath heaved over the side, emptying the contents of his stomach over Nick's shiny right boot.

"Oops!" Heath said as his blanched face realized what he had done. "Sorry, Nick."

The rest of the journey was uneventful, as Heath fell asleep, held securely by Nick. Nick woke him just as the mansion came into view and he cantered Charger through the open gates and up to the back porch. Dismounting carefully, Nick helped his brother down. Heath looked pinched and drawn and decidedly worse for the ride.

"No arguments, Heath. When we get inside, you're going directly to bed. Meg's not going to be best pleased with either of us when she takes one look at you, and since you're sick, it will be me who gets it in the neck."

Heath wasn't about to argue and willing accepted his brother's help to get him inside. In his head the world just wouldn't stand still and he was feeling dizzy all the time now. He half-walked, half-stumbled next to Nick. As they reached the foyer, he stopped suddenly at the sight that met him. For placed near the front door were two open carpet bags and a trunk, stuffed with Meg's clothes.

"Oh my God, Nick. I'm too late! She's leaving me! Meg's leaving me!"

"You don't know that, Heath." Nick tried to reason. "Look, they're could be a perfectly rational explanation as to why Meg's bags are here." Nick hoped he sounded more confident than he actually felt.

Heath fell away from Nick and slumped to the ground in front of his wife's bags, his hands fingering the garments, willing them not to be his wife's. But they were. And they were her bags, ready and packed at the door. What other explanation could there be? You damned fool, Heath Barkley, he rebuked himself. You've the lost best thing that ever happened to you. You only meet someone like Meg once in a lifetime and you've blown it, you damned fool! And who could blame her? You've acted like a stupid jackass throughout this whole affair, only the jackass would have been smarter.

"I've got to find her," Heath said attempting to get up quickly. As he did so, the world inevitably spun around him and he fell backward with the pressure rising inside his head. Nick helped his disorientated brother up to his feet and despite his protests half-carried him to the stairs.

"Much as you don't want to, you're going to have fight this battle later, Heath. The only place you are heading for now, is your bed. All this running around you're doing is just making your concussion worse. You watch. Things will be better when you wake up after a sleep," he said as he helped Heath up the stairs.

After four steps, Heath pushed his brother away and climbed up on to the next two by himself, grandly telling Nick he didn't need any help and that he was going off to search for his wife. If he hadn't been creased by a hammer that afternoon, Nick would have sworn his brother was drunk, his actions were so laughably exaggerated and absurd. Before Heath's rant was finished, he fell forward in an unconscious slump against his brother, and it was left to Nick to carry him up the rest of the stairs, eventually depositing him on his bed.

As Heath slept, Nick made his brother comfortable, and then took in the furnishing and decor of the room. It had long ceased to be the spartan room of old and had filled out over the years.

Time was when there was just four pictures Heath held dear to him in his room; one of his mother, the only one he had, one that had been taken with the family when he had first come to the ranch, a picture of Cate, his first wife taken the year that she had died at the age of just twenty-one, and one of Sean, Thomas and baby Cate from one Christmas morning. Joining these were now pictures of Meg and their children and one of Heath and Meg from their wedding day.

The wallpaper on the room had changed from sage green to a bright yellow which seemed to let the sunshine into the room. In the corner was an overstuffed chair on which were scattered a number of Meg's dresses and the closet door stood half-open revealing more inside. Meg sure had a lot of dresses, Nick thought, remembering to make a mental note to check his own wife's closet when he got back home. To the right, sat Meg's dressing table, perfumes, powder, hair brushes and pins neatly arranged, a photograph of her favorite cowboy staring right back up at her. These weren't the signs of a wife leaving her husband he thought.

Through an open connecting door, Nick walked into what was once his room. It had been larger than Heath's but his younger brother had always preferred the smaller room and the proximity it had to Nick's.

When Heath had first arrived at the house, there had been short-lived animosity between them both, and then as so often was the way of things, they became best friends for life with the doors between their rooms hardly ever closed.

Of course, that changed when Heath met and married Cate and Nick, tactfully, decided to move his bedroom a few doors down the hall. The bonds of brotherhood remained strong though and had remained so ever since.

Trying to fathom out how to help Heath and Meg, Nick sat down in the airy sitting room which his room had now become. As expected, it was tastefully decorated and showed Meg's flair for making a room comfortable and stylish at the same time.

Increasingly, Nick could not see Meg running out on Heath, no matter how much of a jackass his brother had been all day. She simply wasn't a woman to give up on Heath, no matter how bad things got between them. There had to be an explanation for why her bags could be found downstairs. Returning to the bedroom, he checked on a still sleeping Heath and quietly went downstairs.

"Meg! You're here!" He exclaimed as his sister-in-law opened the door and came into the foyer.

"And where else would I be? Where is he, Nick?"

"Upstairs... But, Meg! He thinks......" Nick's words were already lost as Meg hitched up her skirts and ran up the stairs.

"He thinks you are about to leave him," Nick sighed, finishing the sentence to himself, realizing that he would have to take a step back and let them sort it out for themselves. Closing the door to the mansion behind him, he spied his nephews waiting outside by the buggy in which they had driven their mother home. Seeing the worry on their faces, he took a deep breath and went up to them, "C'mon boys. Let's leave your Mother and Father to sort things out. Don't worry. Everything is going to be okay. They just need a bit of time alone."

Meg entered their bedroom. Nick had drawn the shutters to block out the sun light so that Heath could sleep undisturbed. Not for the first time, she reflected on the way Nick protected Heath. Theirs' was a special relationship and one which a lesser woman could have been jealous of had she been less secure. To know Heath was to accept that Nick was a huge presence and influence in his life. Their closeness as brothers had never intruded on their marriage and she knew that it never would. Nick simply maintained a special look out and friendship for his younger brother and was always there if he fell or needed him along the way. As Heath's wife, she also knew that, if needed, that protection extended to her.

Leaning over her husband, she surveyed his countenance as he slept. Gently, she swept back a stray blond lock which had fallen loosely and endearingly over the crisp white bandage that was wrapped neatly around his head. She had always loved his hair. When wet it had a tendency to curl and she preferred it that way, but her husband would insist on brushing it practical and straight. Only the other night he had come to bed with it damp and she had lovingly toweled it dry for him as he lay contentedly with his head in her lap, enjoying the attention he was getting. They were sweet moments and she longed to share them again.

Now as he lay asleep, he looked awfully young and suddenly the years peeled away to the first time they had met in New York as cousins. Then, pregnant and alone, she had relied on his strength; his ability to take control and make her feel safe. She remembered the night when not yet his wife, but feeling terribly scared that she had made a mistake in accepting his proposal, she had crept quietly and unseen into his room and then joined him bed. There had been no physical intimacy between them, they were still more friends than lovers, but she had felt a need to be close to him and he had reciprocated by holding her safe all through the night. It had proved a turning point for her, because from that moment she knew he would never let her down. Then, she had relied on him. Over the years that had changed and they began to rely on on each other, forming a real partnership in their marriage and in being parents to their children. He had been so easy to fall in love with, and with the life and children that they shared, they had forged a marriage in which their love for each other had grown with each passing year.

She reflected on the conversation she and Victoria had had before she was driven back to the ranch by her sons. Victoria had seen she was angry at Heath for having played reckless with his health again. Meg had fought so many of Heath's illnesses with him and had been angry with him for riding back to the ranch and not staying in bed at the Davidson's place. Victoria had gone on to explain Heath's misplaced jealously and his feelings of self-doubt and self-worth. Meg listened in amazement, wondering how Heath could have ever doubted that without her pregnancy a factor, she would never have considered marrying him, twisting the circumstance to believe that he was not worthy of her. So this was what today had all been about? Somehow, Larabee's interest in her, had caused Heath to self-doubt and then to doubt what they had. She had to make him see that he was wrong. The ridiculous bidding that had taken place? The jealousy he had displayed and the punch that he had thrown? All of these things paled into insignificance when she had learned that he had been hurt. Her only thought then was to get home and be by his side. When she learned that he had nearly been killed, she had nearly fainted. With his fragile health there had been so many times before when they thought might lose him. Then just as his health was improving, a man came from nowhere to threaten what they had and very nearly take his life.

"Oh Heath," she sighed, tears falling down her face. "I love you so much. Don't you know that after all these years? I can't bear to think of my life without you or the children." He stirred slightly and in doing so displaced the blanket that was covering him. Quietly, she put it back again and kissed his forehead. Then just as quietly, she walked around to her side of the bed and lay down, quietly sobbing into her pillow at the thought of what she had so nearly lost, determined to repair what they had.

Heath felt he had been sleeping and waking most of the afternoon. Of course, in reality, he had slept since Nick had put him to bed, but his dreams had been fitful if not outwardly expressed. His head ached from the impact to his temple, but he no longer found himself feeling the dizziness of before. Tentatively, he felt the bandage around his head from front to back.

Without the dizziness, the return to clear thinking flooded back and he remembered all too quickly what a jerk he had been that day. Had he really insisted on riding back home? Stupid question. Yes, Heath Barkley, you had and made a prized idiot and nuisance of yourself in the process, he reflected. He seemed to remember Nick having to put him on his horse, and then, having to climb up behind him to hold him in place. All the events of they day came flooding back. The rival bidding between him and Larabee, the punch he had thrown and the words he had been unable to articulate to Meg.

Meg! Oh My God! The bags! Meg's leaving me! He remembered. Oh God! Maybe she had already left. He had to find her and stop her and tell her what a fool he had been. He made to get up and then stopped as his still acclimatizing ears took in the sound of Meg crying from across the bed. She was just an arm's length way, and yet she seemed so far away that his heart ached from the loneliness of not having her near him. He had let her down and he knew her crying was the evidence of how much he had hurt her. She had every right to leave him and take the children too. How he wished he could take back the events of the day. "Meg," he breathed out, not realizing that he spoke her name out loud.

Slowly, the sound of her crying stopped though the tears still fell and she turned towards him, lifting herself up so that she could gaze down into his blue eyes. "I'm here," she said, reassuringly, reaching out a hand to touch the bandage around his head and then letting it fall gently to caress the side of his face.

"I thought you were leaving?" he said, startled at her presence and tender ministrations. He fought the pain in his head to sit up and face her.

"Leaving? Why?" she asked, her face registering disbelief, wondering if he was feverish.

"When Nick got me home, I saw your bags in the hall. All your clothes? You packed to go away."

"Not away and not all my clothes," she corrected. She swept away the tears from her eyes, not knowing if to laugh or cry again. How had Heath made such a leap? "They are just some clothes I was sorting out for the mission. You thought I was leaving you? Oh Heath! How could I leave you and the children? You are my life."

"But today? All the stupid things I did? The way I left you at the Davidsons without saying anything....without explaining why......."

"Are not reasons for leaving you," she said, stopping him mid-sentence. "Heath, today hasn't been about me not loving you anymore, or wanting to leave. It's not about the $1000 you lost, or the punch that you threw. All I wanted to understand was why you felt jealous the way that you did. Surely, you know how much I love you and that I would never look at another man."

Heath looked sheepish, apologetic and endearing at the same time, disarming Meg completely. "I know you wouldn't," he said eventually.

"Then what was it, Heath? Tell me. Help me understand."

Heath thought long and hard. He got up and walked to the window. He was dressed just in his longjohns, Nick having removed his clothes in an unsubtle attempt to keep him in bed, and the room was icy cold. She moved quickly to wrap a warm blanket around him, her arms not leaving him as she stood and waited for his answer, her head resting reassuringly against his broad back.

Heath revelled in the feel of her close to him and held tightly on to the small hands that held the blanket close to his chest. She felt him take a deep breath and her body trembled with his as she felt him let the breath slowly go. It seemed they had lived a lifetime in this one day, and both were emotionally weary and tired.

"Forgive me, Meg," he said. It was said so genuinely she almost cried. Sensing he was finally ready to speak, she did not interrupt but let him continue at his own pace. "The attention Larabee gave you got under my skin, yes, and I'm not proud of the way I responded, in front of you and the boys. It's not the way I want you or them to see me. Every time he saw me in town, he has made his feelings about you obvious and even though I knew he didn't stand a chance with you, I allowed him to get to me. On the surface, it looked like I was handling it, but more and more I let his words eat away at me inside and I began to think closely about us."

"What about us, Heath?" she prompted.

"Oh, about when we first met. You remember? Mother had brought me East to recuperate and you took me under your wing."

"I remember," she said, reflecting on the shy, young cousin she met for the first time and the instant friendship they struck up.

"I began to question that you had no choice but to marry me. We married and that was it. After that the children began to come along and there was no going back."

Meg was careful not to jump to conclusions. "Did you want to go back? You took on a lot when you married me and gave your name to Leah and Samuel. It's only natural that you might question if you did the right thing, and have regrets."

"No! I have no regrets!" Heath said with such conviction that Meg's heart couldn't help but secretly leap with joy.

"Then what, Heath? What did you question?"

Heath sighed and held her hand tighter, not wanting to let her go, loving the feel of her body next to his. "Whether I had the right to ask you? I began to doubt you would have ever accepted me had you not been pregnant and alone. Maybe you would have found someone else, had it not been for Leah and Samuel?"

"Maybe I would," she answered directly, surprising him at first. "And maybe you might have met somebody else in time," she continued quickly, making him consider the situation in a different way. She came round to face him and held his face between her hands. He looked wounded and lost at her words.

"Heath, it's impossible to speculate what might have happened between us, had the circumstances been different. We are not the same people any more. We have moved on since then. Then I was young and single. Now, I'm a wife and mother who has shared your life for the past ten years. I can no more imagine my life without you today than I can imagine being that single woman again. Maybe, if I hadn't been pregnant, we might have continued just as friends, good and dear friends, and just maybe over time we would have become closer. I cannot say. I only know what did happen between us and that I fell in love with my husband completely and love him to this day.

"I remember the doubts I had when you asked me to marry you. You were so insistent, remember? 'Marry me', you kept saying. I worried because we were not your responsibility and yet you made us so. It might have been with gratitude that I married you and it may have been because of honor that you married me, but love quickly replaced those feelings. It was not your cousin and friend you took to bed on our wedding night, it was your wife in every sense of the word, and I have remained your wife ever since. Let the past stay in the past and let us be grateful, that whatever the reason or circumstance, we found each other then and that because we did marry, we love each other and our children today. The only person I want to be, is your wife, Heath. This is my home, you are my husband and I am the mother of your children. Where else would I want to be?"

Later that day, the family gathered for dinner. There were two notable absentees. The door to their room had remained locked all afternoon and well into the evening. It would remain locked throughout the night. Victoria smiled to herself at the reconciliation taking place. All was well again with her family. She would see to the children tonight.

Nick Barkley stood impatiently at the depot station.

A man and his wife got onto the stage and Nick waited for Larabee to follow.

"Nice of you to see me off, Barkley," Larabee smirked, wanting to get one last rise out of the taller man.

"Nothing nice about it. The air around here will feel a lot fresher today once you have left town. Just remember, Larabee, stay away from Stockton and my family. You aren't welcome around these parts any more."

"Till we meet again, Barkley," Larabee again smirked.

"Not in this lifetime, we won't." Nick replied flatly, letting his words, not his fists have the last word. The door slammed shut under Nick's hand and the dust swirled as the driver and horses took the stagecoach out of town and Larabee finally out of their lives.