Dawn was barely pearling in the sky the next morning that Tom was already gearing up for his ride into Strawberry. He gave himself one last once-over before he laid a kiss on his sleeping wife’s forehead. He padded out of the room and walked downstairs, unaware that a shadowy figure was following him. Young Nick stopped at the top of the staircase and crouched down behind the banister. His hands tightened around the balusters, his fingernails digging into the woods as his anger gradually rose within him. His father was leaving. He was now faced with no other alternative but to act on his threat to run away with Heath. He’d sworn to the young orphan that he would protect him from evil men who meant him harm and he hated the thought of his own father betraying the trust he’d invested in him.

He scurried back to his room to slip on his clothes and pack a few belongings before heading down to the adjacent room to rouse his slumbering friend. He set the bag down by the dresser and sat on the bed to tug at Heath’s shoulder. “Hey Heath! Heath!” he coaxed in a whisper.

The little blond pried open his heavy eyelids a slit and blinked to establish focus on the form silhouetted against the dawning of the sun. “Come on, get up. I’m going to help you get dressed. We’re going to take a little ride.” Heath creased his brow in bafflement as to the reason for Nick’s sudden urge to go riding this early. “Come on, Kid. We’ve got to hurry before they find you and take you back to the orphanage.”

Heath’s eyes widen with terror at the thought of being thrown back into the lion’s cage.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to let them get their hands on you. I promise I would take care of you and I will. You trust me?”

Heath strained a half-hearted smile and nodded. He flung his arms around Nick’s legs and tightened his grip. “L…love you N.. Niiiick,” he managed to utter in a quavering timid voice

Nick broke in tears at the heartfelt words. He squatted down and clenched the little guy in a bear hug. “I love you too, Kid. You’re my little brother and no one is going to take you away from me. We will go far away where nobody can find us.” Heath rubbed his bleary eyes with his fists and with a sniffle gave an acknowledging nod of the head. “Alright let’s finish putting on your clothes and then we’ll go down to the kitchen to grab a few things to eat before we leave.”

Hours later Tom arrived at his destination. He dismounted in front of the saloon and tethered his horse to the hitching post. Shock and bewilderment registered on his face as he took in the wretched sight of this once vibrant mining town. Strawberry had changed dramatically since he’d been here last. Leah’s death might have been a blessing in disguise. He shivered at the thought of had this fine woman lived, he might never have known about their son and consequently she would have ended up raising the boy alone in this hellhole.

He drew in a shuddering breath to recover his bearings before striding up to the swinging doors. He walked up to the counter where the bartender was busy serving the only two customers at the bar. He leaned against the end of the counter and waited for him to finish.

“What will it be stranger?”

“A beer,” Tom answered, studying the man he failed to recognize as the one who formerly tended the bar. “Say, do you know where I might find Martha Simmons?”

“What do you want with her?” the bartender queried with a suspicious frown as he handed Tom his mug.

“I want to ask her a few questions about a boy she used to care for?”

“Little Heath Thomson?”

“He’s the one.”

“Cute little fellow. Too bad about his mama. Why do you want to know about him?”

“Just came from Rosedale. He ran away from the orphanage there. We’re out looking for him. I thought of asking around his hometown to get a clue as to where he might possibly be hiding,” poker-faced Tom fibbed convincingly over the rim on his glass.

“You won’t get anything out of that sleazebag.”

“Why not?”

“She’s dead. She was found hung by the neck in one of the rooms at the hotel she ran down the street. They dismissed her death as suicide but we knew better; somebody had finally done her in.”

“What about Hannah James?”

“She’s buried next to Leah in the cemetery. Died of a broken heart the poor woman.”

“And Leah? How did she die?”

“I wasn’t around at the time. I just heard that she’s been sick for a while and finally lost the battle. Her boy’s last hope in his father; wherever he is.”

Tom’s head jerked up. “Do you know who he is?”

“No, but I heard he came from a wealthy background. No one aside from Hannah knew his identity. He just came, left Leah with child and left.”

“Well, thanks for the information. You’ve been very helpful.” Tom took one last swig of beer, tossed a silver dollar onto the counter and headed out the saloon. His inquisitive eyes swept both sides of the streets to spot the hotel but instead, they caught sight of a small cemetery. He took a deep breath to quell the wave of emotions rushing to his throat before making his way down to the fallow burial ground.

His heart sank at the name ‘Leah Thomson’ chiselled in the tombstone. He edged towards the grave and knelt on the ground. After removing his hat he bowed his head in respect. “I found him, Leah. I found our son. He now has a home and a family who will love and cherish him. That boy will never want for anything. I promise to do well by him. He will wear the Barkley name and stand tall and proud wherever he goes. Thank you for sending him to me. My only regret is that I didn’t know about him sooner. I should have made sure I hadn’t left you with child but I assume I was afraid of seeing your pretty face again and what feelings it might have aroused in me. I apologized for what I put you through, though I’m not sorry for having met you Leah. You were a kind-hearted woman. Guess that’s why I fell in love with you.” He bowed his head in a silent prayer one last time before he put on his hat and walked back to his horse.

Victoria was nervously pacing the foyer, wringing her hands of all its blood as she waited for news on the two missing boys. She rushed to the front door at the sound of footsteps. “Jarrod!”

“Sorry Mother. We looked everywhere. There’s no sign of them.”

“They must be somewhere on the ranch.”

“Freckles’s gone from his stall On horseback they can cover more ground than had they left on foot,” Duke informed.

“Mother, you don’t suppose Nick might have followed father to Strawberry?”

“No. Nick was vehemently against the idea of your father going there in the first place.”

“The men are having a hard time trying to pick up a trail on account of the dry soil but we’ll keep looking, Mrs Barkley.”

“Thank you Duke. Do your best. That’s all I can ask.”

“Yes Ma’am. Will do.”

As Duke headed out the door he saw Tom riding up. “Tom is back!”

Victoria rushed out the door and met with her husband. “Tom. Nick and Heath are missing!”

Tom gripped his wife’s shoulders and stared into her terrorized eyes. “What do you mean they’re missing?”

She placed a hand against her chest, shut her eyes and took a deep breath to collect her thoughts before continuing, “When I got up this morning the boys were gone. Duke says Nick’s horse is not in his stall.”

Tom turned to Duke who confirmed with a nod of the head.

“Father we looked everywhere for them. We couldn’t find any trace,” Jarrod added. “I looked in the abandoned shack where we often play. There was no sign of them ever being there.”

Tom swallowed hard and heaved a shuddering breath. He was gripped by an icy clutch of dread at the thought of his two young boys at the mercy of nature’s elements and roaming wild animals. He tried to convince himself that Nick wasn’t without any ingenuity when it came to squeeze himself out of tight spots; he’d seen him act resourcefully in harsh situations. He would find a way to keep his little brother safe until they’d grow scared of hiding out alone or that they would find them, whichever came first.

“Duke would you saddle my horse while I unhitch the team?”

“Sure thing, Tom.”

“Tom, do you have an idea where they might have gone?”

Tom released the first horse from its harness while Jarrod helped him with the second. “I think so. It’s worth a shot. On the north range there’s a small line shack. It’s vacant at this time of year. I often took Nick there when he and I would go fishing.”

“I hope you’re right,” Victoria sighed with dismay.

“Can I ride along with you, Father?” Jarrod asked expectantly, eager to join in the search for his missing brothers.

“I’d rather you stay home with your mother and sister. Nick and Heath might just come back of their own accord. If they do they’ll need their older brother there to welcome them and not chide them.”

“Okay.” Jarrod nodded his understanding.

Victoria placed her hands on her husband’s broad shoulders and with imploring eyes, she entreated quaveringly, “Bring them home, Tom.”

He leaned in to deposit a small soft kiss on her cheek. “I’ll do my best.” He gripped his horse’s reins that Duke handed over to him. “Don’t wait up for us.” With one fluid motion, he swung on his mount’s back and spurred him at a full gallop with Duke in tow.

Meanwhile, less than five miles south of the main house, Nick was cutting a slice of beef jerky for his small companion who sat on a cot, curled up with his knees bent to his chest trying to keep warm. This old abandoned mine was a sheer fluke discovery that Nick believed to be the perfect hideout while he thought of a more comfortable shelter.

“Here, Heath. Eat this.” Nick squatted down in front of the little shivering boy who buried his head deeper between his knees. “Come on. You got to eat something.” Nick stood and went to pick up his blanket to mantle his little brother’s shoulders with it. “There. That ought to warm you up. I know it’s nippy in here but it’s better than back home where they can find you and take you away.”

Heath’s head jerked up at the rumbling sound coming from above. He and Nick froze in fear of a possible cave-in but much to their relief, only a handful of dust twirled in the air. Nick’s horse Freckles could be heard neighing in a corner of the shaft where he’d been settled with a few twigs to chew on.

Nick edged over to the skittish pony to run a soothing hand across his neck. “Don’t make sounds, Freckles. We don’t want anyone to know where we are. We’re doing this for Heath so he won’t go back to the orphanage. I promise we’ll find somewhere better soon.” Freckles acknowledged Nick’s plea with a nudge on his master’s shoulder and soon went back to his measly lunch.

Nick returned to the blond he happily saw nibbling on the piece of jerky. So taken by the scene was he that he failed to pay heed to the large rock sitting across his path. His foot skidded, causing him to lose his balance and fall on a decaying wooden beam. The thud sent shock waves throughout the mineshaft, eventually triggering a rumbling that quickly ended with the ceiling tumbling down on the two boys before they had a chance to flee.

Meanwhile Duke and Tom’s search was one mare’s nest after the other. They were at their wits end trying to figure out where the two boys might be. They halted near a gurgling stream to water their horses.

“It’s all my fault, Duke,” Tom sighed repentantly. “I pushed them away.”

“Now what’s this nonsense about?” Duke asked bitterly.

“I was so adamantly determined to delve deeper into Heath’s background and for what? Both Victoria and Nick try to reason with me that this was a bad idea but I wouldn’t listen. I thought if I knew more about where the boy came from I’d be…” his voice tailed off at the word he couldn’t bring himself to utter.

“A better father?” Duke finished for his grieving friend.

Tom looked at Duke with a shocked expression.

“Victoria told me. But I knew just by looking at the boy. He has your colouring and your eyes.”

“If anything happened to them, I….”

“Tom, stop it!” Duke snarled. “We’re going to find them. You taught Nick how to fend for himself at a very young age. He’s a very resourceful boy. I’m sure if push comes to shove he’ll return home with Heath.”

“What if they can’t?”

“Come on. Let’s mount up and resume the search. I remember an abandoned mine a few yards outside Barkley land. Might be worth to check it out.”

“Why didn’t you mention it before?”

“I figured Nick would have stayed on the property seeing how he knows his way around.”

Let’s go!”

Both men swung into the saddle and nudged their horses toward the mine.

The dust had barely settled inside the mine that Nick slowly regained consciousness. His hazel eyes stung from the dust, his groaning eliciting a bout of coughing that blunted the edge of a searing pain in his chest. When he tried to move his legs he realized they were caught underneath a beam. He refrained from drawing in a much-needed deep breath for fear of aggravating his injuries. His turned to his left to take in the horrifying sight of his horse lying dead under a pile of rocks. He choked back his tears and concentrated on finding his little brother.

“Heath!” he rasped, wincing at the pain. “Heath, where are you?” Nick rubbed the dust out of his eyes and craned his neck back to discern the tip of a boot buried underneath debris. “Heath! Come on! Give me a sign,” Nick beseeched with tears welling up in his eyes. “Let me know you’re okay. Please Heath,” he wailed before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Specks of dust were still seen billowing out of the mine entrance as Duke and Tom rode up.

“The mine must have collapsed. It was extremely unstable.”

“Something tells me my boys were in there when it happened.”

Duke went to inspect the entrance and found it blocked by a wall of rocks. He and Tom drudged at loosening a sizeable stone in order to shake the foundation down. They huffed and puffed but their efforts came to a naught.

“Let’s try looping the rock and have the horse pulled it loose.” Tom praised Duke’s suggestion and went to fetch the rope on his saddle. He hurried back to find that Duke had managed to clear a small hole big enough to peek inside. “Anybody in there?” The foreman yelled down the shaft, listening carefully for the tinniest moan.

“We’ll have to go in there. Here!” Tom handed on end of the rope to Duke who fastened it around the rock. Once it was secured Tom stepped up to his horse to tie the other end to the saddle pommel. He mounted up and nudged the animal onwards repeatedly until success. The wall came tumbling down, clearing the entrance for the two men to venture inside.

They fumbled their way down the dark tunnel, coughing and spitting dust. Tom’s foot accidentally caught underneath a piece of timber. As he bent down to shake his boot loose he squinted at what appeared to be shattered glass, which turned out to be a lantern. He stood upright and struck a match to light it before he and Duke pressed on.

The familiar voice resounded in Nick’s subconscious, gradually prompting him to swim back to the surface. He blinked open his eyes and perked up his ears at what he thought was the sound of footsteps drawing closer. His face lit up with glee when he heard his father called out to him. He tried to respond but his parched throat and broken ribs made it impossible to utter a single sound. He licked his lips and tried again.

“Shut!” Tom gripped Duke’s arm. “Listen. Do you hear anything?”

Both men shut their eyes in deep concentration. They rejoiced at the faint wail echoing from further down the shaft.

“It’s Nick,” Tom squealed with delight at the sound of life. He moved ahead of Duke to lead the way. “Nick, hold on, son. We’re coming. Keep talking.”

“D…d…daaaaaaaaaaaaaaad.”

“I’m here. I’m coming Nick.” Tom straddled the last of the hindering rubbles to reach his boys’ deathtrap. He recoiled in horror at the ghoulish sight of Nick’s horse lying in a pool of blood. Casting the harrowing image aside, he held up his lantern to follow the sound of his son’s wheezing. “Nick!” He dove to his knees and set the lantern on a nearby rock. He beckoned Duke to lend a hand in lifting the heavy beam off Nick’s legs. Once the task was achieved the concerned father delicately brushed the dirt away from Nick’s face and doused his neck cloth with water to moisten his son’s lips.

“Da…dad. I…”

“Don’t talk now, Nick. Save your energy, son. You’re alright.”

“Heath. He’s,” Nick strained his neck back and motioned to the protruding boot with his eyes, “over there. Please help him.”

“I’ll get him, Tom. You stay with Nick.”

“Please God. Let him be okay,” Nick wept. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have taken him here.”

“Why did you?” Tom asked as he continued to dribble water into the boy’s mouth.

“I was afraid they would take him away,” he sobbed, his voice cracking with emotion and pain.

“You don’t need to worry. Heath is staying with us. He’s your little brother.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Tom leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on his son’s forehead.

“It hurts so bad, dad.”

“Just keep still. The doctor will fix you up in no time.” He briefly lifted his eyes of Nick to see Duke taking Heath’s pulse.

“Duke. How is he?” Tom asked with apprehension, the silence putting the fear of God into him.

Duke turned to him with a mournful expression. “He’s alive. Just barely.” Duke gave the boy a second once over and winced. “Tom, he doesn’t look good.”

Nick’s heart rejoiced at the news that Heath was clinging on to life but parts of it shattered into pieces at the thought of his little friend rendering the ghost before they could reach the doctor’s office. “Please God,” Nick wept with each sob that racked his body blunting the edge of his searing pain. “It’s all my fault. Don’t punish him for something I did wrong.”

“Nick! I don’t want to hear any of that nonsense!” Tom chastised mildly as he brushed back the loose lock of hair on his son’s forehead. “You’re both going to be fine.” He held his canteen up to Nick’s lips. “Want some more water?” A weak nod of the head prompted Tom to ease his hand behind Nick’s neck to assist him in drinking a few sips of water. He glanced up at Duke who was busy removing the rest of the debris strewn over the young blond. He knitted his brows in puzzlement upon seeing the foreman bend over the boy. “Duke, what is it?”

“I’m not sure.” He leaned his ear closer to the boy’s face and listened for the tinniest murmur. He heaved a sigh of relief at the faint moan. “I can hear him. He’s coming around, Tom.”

“I was hoping he’s stay unconscious during the ride back into town. We’re likely to send him into the throes of agony when we move him.”

“We’d better make it fast then. You take Nick. I’ll handle Heath.”

Both men buckled down to their respective task, gently lifting the two injured boys in their arms to carry them out of the mine.

“Duke, wait!” Tom called out to his foreman walking a few feet ahead of him. “How are we going to carry them to Dr. Merar’s? We can’t sit them in the saddle in the shape they’re in.”

“I could ride for the doc in town and bring back a rig, which could cost us precious minutes we may not have,” he glanced down at the boy cradled in his arms, “especially with Heath.”

“The ranch is closer. I tell you what. You ride out there and ask a hand to go fetch Doc Merar while you bring back a wagon. We might not gain much time but at least the boys will have a smooth ride back home where hopefully Howard will already be there waiting for us.”

Duke nodded his approval, and then gingerly laid Heath in the grass next to Nick. “I’ll ride the wind, Tom.”

“I know you will but don’t outstrip it and risk a tumble. We need you back.”

Duke removed his coat and tossed it at Tom before mounting his horse and spurring it at full tilt. Tom spread the coat on Nick’s while he mantled Heath’s body with his. Underneath the protective blanket, Nick stuck out his hand and clasped his little brother’s. “You hang on, Heath. Don’t leave me, please,” he beseeched through tear-clouded eyes.

“Nnnnn…Niiiiick?” came the feeble wail.

“Yeah. I’m here Heath. You’re going to be fine. I’m not leaving you. You hang on to me.” He gave Heath’s hand a light squeeze. “You feel it?” Heath gave a faint nod of the head. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you, Little Brother.”

The word spread sunshine into the boy’s dull mind, infusing him a big enough dose of energy to allow him to turn his head toward his big brother and smile, before surrendering to the beckoning darkness.

Tom was nervously wearing a hole in the living room rug, wringing his hands of all its blood as he awaited news on his sons’ conditions. On Jarrod’s lap, Little Audra was gnawing at her blanket while her big brother’s eyes absently followed his father striding up and down the room. Upstairs, the two boys had been settled in the same room at Nick’s request. Victoria assisted Dr. Merar in his examination of her precious angels by providing a soothing rub on the patients’ arms and an occasional kiss on the cheeks. Howard strived to keep a smile upon his face to avoid frightening mother and son with his findings. He finally stood and put his instruments back in his bag. He threw Nick a friendly wink before beckoning Victoria out of the room.

“Nick has two fractured ribs and a badly bruised left leg. Luckily it’s not broken but it will be extremely sore for a while. To avoid complications I will set a temporary brace and I don’t want him walking on that leg for the next three even four weeks to avoid putting pressure on it.”

“All right. What about Heath?”

Howard lowered his gaze and drew in a deep breath to summon his courage to will his eyes back to the worried mother. “The fact that he briefly regained consciousness after Tom and your foreman pulled him out of that mine is encouraging. The head concussion he sustained would give anyone a mere splitting headache but to a child his age it could be fatal.”

Victoria closed her eyes in despair and felt her heart sank to her stomach. “What… what are his chances?” she quavered.

With a rueful expression that translated into despair, he placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “I’ve done everything humanly possible for the boy. It’s out of my hands now.”

“How…how… much time?” she stammered with a voice broken with sobs.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to feed you false hope but if what you tell me about Heath being Tom’s son is true then I believe he stands a good chance of pulling through. You are a family of stubborn mules. We can’t keep you down.”

She strained a half-hearted smile and placed her hand on top of his. “Thank you.”

“Nick appears to be very close to the boy.”

“He is. He adopted Heath the first day he saw him.”

“Then have Nick talk to him. Reach out to his soul. He may bring him back.”

“I will.”

“If you don’t mind my occupying a guest bedroom I’d like to remain here tonight just in case.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Howard. I’ll have Silas prepare your room.”

“I will drive back to my office to pick up a few more things I might require for the next twenty-four hours, as well as leaving a note to my wife of where I’ll be in case anybody should need a doctor.”

“All right. Will you tell Tom and the children downstairs? I will stay with the boys for a while.”

He reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Sure thing, Victoria.”

She watched the doctor walk down the hall and disappear behind the corner before entering Nick’s room to witness a heart-melting picture of her dark-haired son dozing off on the bed with his hand enfolding his little brother’s.

She pattered up to the bed to pull the blanket up to her boys’ shoulders. Nick stirred but did not rouse. She bent down to place a light kiss on both foreheads, which, much to her relief, didn’t feel alarmingly warm. She shifted the reclining chair next to the bed and sat with her hands on her lap. With a serene expression on her face she gazed at her two precious boys slumbering side by side. She tried hard not to allow any grim thought cross her mind, as she wanted to maintain a positive outlook on their fate. She closed her eyes to send a little prayer to the heavens.

Although Heath was not her own flesh and blood she felt powerfully drawn to the little cherub. To many wives he would be considered a constant reminder of their husband’s infidelity; but strangely enough to Victoria, Heath’s presence in the bosom of the family was strengthening the marital bond. A blissful smile crossed her face at the thought of the pitter-patter of tiny feet running around in the house. Moreover Heath was the little brother her strong-willed urchin had been wishing for. ‘Life works in mysterious ways,’ she mused to herself as she leaned back in the chair.

Three hour had passed when her eyes shot wide open at the sound of a cry. She leapt out of her chair to go sit next to her weeping boy. “Nicholas, what’s wrong?”

“Heath is hot and he won’t wake up.”

Victoria brushed her hand against the tiny forehead and gasped at the burning sensation against her skin. She hurried out the door to fetch Dr. Merar across the hall. Seconds later they were back to witness a frantic Nick shaking his little brother awake.

“He’s not breathing, mom,” Nick wailed, turning his attention back to the sluggish boy. “Come on Heath. Wake up!”

Dr. Merar sat on the edge on the bed and grabbed Nick’s arms. “Nick, don’t. Let me check.” He put the stethoscope in his ears and applied the other end to the boy’s chest. With his eyes closed he concentrated on the faint heartbeat. “He’s alive, Nick. He just has a very faint heartbeat.” He turned to Victoria. “That boy’s body is waging war against the injuries. I don’t know if he’s strong enough to withstand it,” he said dejectedly before he stood and hung the stethoscope around his neck. “All we can do is apply cold compresses over his body to keep his temperature down.”

“Howard, isn’t there anything you can do?” Victoria pleaded with her friend, hoping he would provide an encouraging answer.

“There’s internal bleeding. How extensive it’s hard to tell. I can’t risk an operation in his weak condition. It will kill for certain. This way there’s a slight chance the damage might repair itself.”

“You don’t sound very optimistic.”

“No. I don’t. I’ve told you before. His chances of survival are very slim.”

“No!” Nick shouted. “He’s not going to die. He can’t,” he argued forcefully, cringing at the pain in his chest.

“Nicholas, take it easy,” Victoria pacified with a soothing hand against his cheek.

“Mom, please. Don’t let him die,” he beseeched with a vice-like grip on her hand. “It’s all my fault. If anyone should die it’s me.”

“Now I don’t want to hear any of that nonsense Nicholas Jonathan Barkley,” Victoria said authoritatively.

“Nick, you talk to him,” Dr. Merar said. “Will him back to us.”

“How? I mean what do I say?”

“Anything you want.”

“But…” he sniffed back his tears, “but he can’t hear me.”

“His heart can. Talk to his heart, Nick. Tell him how much you want your little brother back. He’ll listen.”

Nick looked up at his mother who smiled her answer and gave an approving nod of the head. “I’ll try.”

The good doctor beckoned Victoria out of the room to give Nick time alone to work his magic while they went to fetch some cold water and towels.

Nick struggled to find a comfortable position but finding none he opted to remain lying supine next to Heath with his little brother’s limp hand cradled in his. He lifted his eyes upwards and stared at the ceiling. “Before I talk to my brother I want to talk to you, God.” Tears begun to sting his eyes as he carefully pondered over his words. “I don’t want you to take Heath to heaven. He’s too little. That place belongs to very old people, not him. If you have to take a kid, you take me instead. I’m the one who brought him to that mine. I’m responsible for him being hurt. You punish me. I’m willing to go with you if you promise to let my little brother live.” With a loud sniffle he turned to Heath and squeezed his small hand. “Please Heath. Don’t go with God. Stay with me. I need you,” he quavered, his bottom lip trembling.

All through the remainder of the night, Victoria, Tom and Dr. Merar took turns at applying cold compresses on the fever-ridden body and keeping a vigil on the two boys.

Dawn was barely mantling in the sky when Nick was jolted of his slumber by a hushed voice saying: ‘He’s dead.’

“Nick, sweetheart,” Victoria was by his side the moment he awoke with a start. “Are you in pain?”

“I heard that…that,” Nick choked on his sentence. He couldn’t bring himself to say the dreaded words.

“What?”

“Heath is dead.”

Victoria smiled and pointed to his right. “Look for yourself.”

Nick turned to his right to see two blue skies peering at him from underneath two drooping eyelids. Nick’s overwhelming joy caused his mouth to move though no word would come out.

“Brooooooother Niiiiiiiiick,” came the drooling reply to his silent gratefulness.

“I taught him that,” Jarrod boasted. He was standing at the bottom of the bed enjoying the view of his two brothers smiling at each other.

“The boy still has a fever but it’s nothing alarming,” informed the doctor. “I think the worse is over. Keep them both in bed with plenty of water. Nick you can start on porridge but Heath is strictly broth.”

“We will, Howard. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done.”

“Most of the credit goes to your son and the O Mighty,” he answered with a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be back to check on them this afternoon.”

“I’ll walk you out, Doc,” Tom offered.

“Nick, you be careful of your little brother now. Make sure he gets plenty of rest,” Dr. Merar advised his little dark-haired patient.

“I will, doctor. I will,” he exulted with a beaming smile before he turned back to Heath. “Welcome back, little brother.”

“Liiiiiiiiiitle brooooooooooooooother.”

“Yeah that’s right. You’ re my little brother and I’m never going to let you go.” He snuggled closed to Heath and both fell into a healing sleep.