Together

by baddkid

Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.

This story takes place when Heath first comes to the valley.

Part 1

Nick stood straight, stretched, and admired the completed fence. A job that should have lasted until just before dinnertime was finished in mid-afternoon. This would be a good day to go down to the water hole for a quick swim before heading home. Of course, good manners dictated that he should invite Heath along. But he didn't want to.

If he'd been honest with himself, Nick would have had to admit that the work wouldn't have been finished nearly that soon if Heath were not there. The man did the work of two. If Heath had not worked so diligently, Nick would not be standing here thinking about going swimming.

He looked over to where Heath was, securing the fence with a few last nails. Suddenly, a dark scowl creased his handsome features. It would be a cold day in Hell before he'd invite Heath to go with him. Let him stay here and sweat.

Heath looked up just then, as though he felt Nick's thoughts and was surprised by the ferocity of them. Wiping his sweaty brow with his shirt sleeve, he asked "What's next?"

Heath never directly addressed Nick. The other hands called him 'Nick" or 'boss', a few even held to the more reserved 'Mr. Barkley'. But not him. It was as if, Nick thought, Heath couldn't figure out what to call him.

Suddenly he needed to get away.

"Clean up and head back. Day's over." he barked curtly. Turning back to Heath, he said "I've got some errands to run. I'll be home in time for dinner."

Heath merely nodded, then silently watched Nick ride away. He turned to help the hands pick up the tools and extra supplies, and reload the wagon.

Nick rode Coco hard for a few minutes, which was probably not a good idea in the heat, but he needed to put distance between himself and Heath, as quickly as possible. He promised the horse a nice long rest when they reached the lake.

By the time Nick got there, he no longer felt like swimming. Instead, he sat in the grass, with his back against a tree, and replayed in his mind all the evil, hurtful things he'd said and done to Heath in the past month. And, each time, Heath just stood there and took whatever abuse Nick handed out, then went back and did the work of two men. Wasn't there anything Nick could say or do that would crack that rock wall Heath hid behind?

Nick thought back to that fateful night, was it only a month ago? The night when he'd met Heath in the barn and demanded answers from the newcomer. Nick wanted to know why Heath was there. He never expected the answer he received. "I spy for the railroad" or "I'm just passing through" or anything else that would explain, if anyone ever asked, why Nick fired him so quickly. But, when Nick asked again 'Who are you?' he never dreamed the answer would be 'Tom Barkley's bastard son'.

Nick was certain the men were back at the ranch by now. He was equally certain Heath was in the house by now. As he watched the sun dip lower in the sky, Nick knew he should get up and head for home. He'd have just enough time to bathe before joining the family downstairs for drinks before dinner. Jarrod would likely have some tale to tell from his newest case, Mother and Audra would listen and comment in all the right places, and Heath would say what he usually said. Nothing. In the month he'd been in their house, Nick realized Heath had never actually volunteered an opinion on anything, or started a conversation about anything, or even offered a bit of information without being asked. Not natural, Nick thought, brushing off his clothes, not natural. He climbed back on Coco wearily and headed for home.

Part 2

The family was already gathered when Nick stepped off the last stair, bathed and wearing clean clothes. Jarrod saw him first and poured him a drink.

"Evening, Nick."

Nick accepted the drink silently, lifting it toward Jarrod in a mute toast before downing it in one gulp and handing the glass back for a refill. Jarrod lifted one eyebrow in silent question while pouring Nick another drink. Seeing he would get no answer, Jarrod returned to the conversation.

"So, what do you think, Heath?"

"About what?"

Jarrod's eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"About what? About what we were talking about, that's what."

"Oh, that. Whatever you think is right, Jarrod." Heath continued nursing his drink.

Jarrod looked to his mother for support, only to have her shake her head slightly and look meaningfully toward Nick, who was unaware he was being watched. Nick was lost in thought. Something was different tonight, something that never happened before. It came to Nick suddenly. Heath was the one talking as he descended the stairs. Heath was actually talking, not sitting there silently aggravating Nick. He wondered what Heath could have found to talk about.

Just then Silas announced that dinner was ready, breaking the uncomfortable moment. Nick, being closest to the dining room, was in his seat before anyone else reached the room.

"Hungry, Nick?" Victoria asked.

"Yeah."

Everyone was silent for a few minutes, as bowls and platters were passed and plates were filled. After taking a few bites of his roast, Jarrod continued the earlier conversation.

"So, when I met with Dace this afternoon, I must say I was pleasantly surprised. Our conversation was much more intelligent than I thought it might be."

"Did you think he was dumb just because he looks and acts rough?" Audra asked, a hint of reproach in her voice.

"I must say, that's exactly what I expected." Jarrod looked shamed. "I guess no matter how open-minded you think you are, you still have your little prejudices."

"We all do, Jarrod, it's how we deal with them that's important." Victoria reminded him.

"Yes, Mother, you're right." Jarrod smiled at her.

"Dace? You mean Dace Dawson?" Nick asked.

"The same."

"Why are you meeting with him?" Nick demanded.

"I always meet with my clients before I defend them, brother Nick. It works better that way."

"Uh-huh. And just what are you defending him from?"

"A murder charge."

"What?"

"Dace has been accused of murder, and I'm defending him."

"It's that simple?" Nick asked.

"Yes, it's that simple."

"Who's paying you?"

"Dace's brother, Jeff."

"Jarrod, have you completely lost your mind?" Nick demanded to know.

"Nick, I'm a lawyer. I get paid to defend people. Jeff paid me, and I intend to defend Dace."

"Who'd he murder?"

"Alleged, Nick. A local farmer. There were no witnesses, just Dace and the farmer had an argument a few weeks ago, so someone thought Dace was a likely candidate for a murder charge."

"Well, I don't see what's so unusual about that! Dace and his brother hide up in the mountains, only coming to town once a month, living God knows how, and suddenly you want to set them up as respectable citizens."

"Nick, Dace has never been in any trouble, apart from a few barroom brawls. An activity you seem to enjoy taking part in, too. What does that say about you?"

Nick waved his fork at Jarrod.

"Don't even begin to compare me to him, Jarrod."

"I think we can find something more pleasant to talk about for the remainder of dinner." Victoria's voice was quiet, but firm.

"I'm sorry, Mother, you're absolutely right." Jarrod agreed. "So, tell me, what did you lovely ladies do all day?"

The conversation easily turned to other topics, but Nick remained silent. Victoria's heart went out to him. Now she had two sons eating in silence.

No matter what anyone might say to try to change her mind, Victoria had already begun to think of this quiet young man as her son. He was not, not really, and yet something about him drew her to him. Perhaps it was because he so recently lost his own mother, and she could still feel his pain. Perhaps it was because Nick had taken such a strong dislike to him, and she felt the need to ease his way into the family group. Perhaps it was the way he reminded her of her dead husband, the father Heath never knew.

"Mother?"

Victoria shook her head slightly, as if trying to clear the thoughts inside. Looking up at Jarrod, she saw the question in his eyes. She smiled brightly at him, silently reassuring him.

"If were all finished, I suggest we move into the other room." she said.

Jarrod came around to her end of the table and offered her his arm. They left the room together, followed by Audra, who was chattering endlessly about some orphan's newest antics. An equally silent Nick and Heath followed them.

Nick started to head for the front door, suddenly feeling the need for some fresh air, when Jarrod grabbed his arm.

"Join me in the study, Nick?" Jarrod phrased the question pleasantly enough, but Nick knew it was a demand and Jarrod wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Nodding his agreement, Nick followed Jarrod into the room and shut the door.

Part 3

"Would you care for a drink, Nick?"

"You know I would, so why do you ask?" Nick was not going to make this easy on Jarrod.

Jarrod ignored Nick's sarcasm, and poured them both a drink. Handing Nick's to him, Jarrod went to sit on the chair opposite from where Nick sat.

"Well?" Nick demanded.

"Well what?"

"Why don't you tell me what's on your mind, and get it over with."

"Why don't you tell me what's on yours, brother Nick."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jarrod stood and walked over to the window. Over his shoulder, he said,

"I think you do."

"Heath."

"Yes, Nick, our brother, Heath."

"He's not my brother." Nick shot back.

"When did you decide that?" Jarrod asked.

"Well, since I never decided he was, I couldn't decide he wasn't. Make sense?"

Jarrod refilled his drink and returned to the chair. Sipping his Scotch, he regarded Nick over the rim of the glass.

"I just don't understand, Nick." he finally said.

"Understand what?"

"Your behaviour. Mother already thinks of him as a son. Audra adores him. He and I have begun to create a relationship. Why not you? Why can't you accept him?"

"I didn't invite him here."

"Neither did I, but that doesn't mean I want to see him leave. C'mon, Nick, what's the problem? You always wanted a little brother."

"When I was ten! I kind of outgrew the desire as I got older."

"So, you got your wish. It just took awhile." Jarrod teased.

Jarrod was unable to understand why Nick felt the way he did. He himself was just beginning to learn what a wonderful person Heath was. Jarrod was certain that, if Nick took the time to get to know him, Nick would feel the same way.

"You know, Nick, there may come a day when you want him by your side, need him to be there for you. What if you've pushed him away so many times he doesn't want to be there for you. What then, Nick?"

"I don't want him here, Jarrod." Nick said quietly.

"You don't want him here? Why? Is it because you don't want to share any of this?" Jarrod made a sweeping motion with his arm, to encompass the room and the house beyond. "We have more than enough wealth for all of us. Is it the ranch you don't want to share? I don't think Heath wants sole responsibility. I think he's happy enough just helping you."

"Just drop it, Jarrod."

But the lawyer in Jarrod wanted answers, now. He would not drop the subject. He would worry it to death, like a dog with a bone, until he got the answers he wanted.

"Or is it the fact that you can't live with the idea that our father was not as perfect as you want to remember him to be?"

Nick slammed his glass down on the table. Standing, he stared down at Jarrod.

"I asked you to just drop the subject. Goodnight, Jarrod." With that, Nick left the room, closing the door behind him.

Jarrod let out a long sigh and relaxed. Judging by the look on Nick's face, his brother wanted to hit him just now. How long would it be before Nick acted on his feelings? How long before matters ended in an ugly scene? Jarrod shuddered at the thought. He wanted to be somewhere else when it happened.

Part 4

Breakfast the next morning was a quiet affair. Nick was moody; Jarrod, pensive; and Victoria seemed totally distracted. Audra pointed it out to her before she could drink her first cup of coffee, the same cup she had just flavored with a liberal amount of salt.

"Mother, are you feeling alright?" Audra asked gently.

"Yes, dear, yes, I'm fine." her mother spoke reassuringly, but Audra wasn't fooled. She looked to her brothers for help, but they were each lost in a world of their own making. She pushed back her chair and rose from the table.

"I'll get you a fresh cup."

No one had moved when Audra returned from the kitchen, so she resumed her place with a heavy heart and an even heavier sigh. Amazing, she thought, how one seemingly innocent act, so long ago, could be the one single problem this family could not solve together.

Jarrod heard her sigh, and looked up. Realizing he was cooling a cold cup of coffee, he wiped his mouth, put down his napkin, and rose from the table.

"I've got to go. I've got a mountain of paperwork, and I need to meet with Dace this afternoon." He walked around the table to kiss his mother, then his sister. "I'll see you all tonight."

Heath, too, put down his napkin.

"I'll walk you out, Jarrod. Work's waiting. Ladies." Heath nodded to Victoria and Audra, then smiled a small smile, before following Jarrod out the door.

"Well, Mother, I need to get ready. It's my day at the orphanage."

"Will you be home in time for lunch, dear?"

"Probably not, Mother, but definitely by mid-afternoon."

Victoria watched Audra leave, a mixture of joy and sadness in her heart. How quickly they grow up, and have other things to do, she thought. Then she turned her attention to the one child still at the table.

She had always had a special feeling in her heart for Nick. Oh, Victoria loved all her children equally. She was even beginning to feel a mother's love for Heath, although that wasn't difficult, he was in many ways an easy person to love. But Victoria knew, as mothers had learned before her, that each child has one quality that endears that child especially to his or her mother. With Nick, it was his spirit, his zest for life. Although lately, that spirit seemed to be sadly lacking. She desperately needed to find a way to help him. She just wasn't sure how.

"Nick?"

He turned toward her, but didn't speak.

"If you won't talk to Jarrod, will you talk to me?"

"So now I'm the topic of late night conversations, is that it?"

"Honey, we just want to find a way to help you accept the fact that Heath is your brother, and he is here to stay, for as long as he wants."

"So, it's that simple, huh?"

"Yes." Victoria said firmly. "It's that simple."

"Well, then, I don't see that we have anything more to talk about."

Victoria set her cup down in exasperation, sloshing its contents onto the saucer.

"Nick Barkley, you are perhaps the most stubborn individual I have ever met!"

"Well, someone has to uphold the family virtue." He pushed his chair back and started to rise.

"You sit down, young man, and listen to me."

Nick stared at his mother in surprise, but he meekly sat back down.

"Now you listen, and hear me. I respect you, and your opinion, but on this matter you are wrong. Heath is your brother, like it or not, and you had better get used to that idea."

"Do I have any choice?"

Victoria started to reply sharply, then stopped. Perhaps a different approach would work better.

"Nick, your father was my husband, and as much as I loved him, still do, I long ago realized he was no more perfect than any other human." Nick would not meet her eyes, but she knew he was listening. "I have forgiven him his sins, why can't you?

"May I be excused? I have a lot of work to do today."

Victoria wearily made a dismissive motion with her hand. Nick stood up, then walked around the table to kiss her goodbye.

"We'll be working near the house today. Suppose we come here for lunch?"

She noticed he said 'here' and not 'home', but she would take the small gift and enjoy it.

He noticed how her look brightened.

"Don't make it more than it is, Mother, okay?" Nick warned softly.

"Alright, dear." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders from behind, and hugged her to him. She leaned back against him and patted his arm. He held on tightly, almost desperately, for just a moment, then kissed her and left.

Victoria watched him leave, then poured another cup of coffee, deciding what to have for lunch. It might be a good day after all, she mused.

Part 5

Fred looked up from his papers as Jarrod entered the sheriff's office.

"Afternoon, Fred."

"Afternoon, Jarrod. Is this a social call, or business?"

"I'm afraid it's business, Fred. I'm here to meet with my client again."

Fred rose from his chair and grabbed the keys to the cell.

"Well, isn't he lucky, two visitors in one day."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, his brother was here earlier."

Fred led the way back to the cell, unlocked the door, and let Jarrod in. Locking the door behind him, he turned to leave.

"Holler when you're through." he said.

"Well, Dace, how are you. All things considered, that is." Jarrod asked his client.

"I'll be glad when this is all over, and I can get out of this cell," Dace told him.

"Well, let's just hope things go the way we want them to." Jarrod said.

"I'm all through hoping, lawyer. I'm ready to act."

"What do you mean?" Jarrod asked. He got his answer soon enough. Dace was pointing a gun at him.

"You don't want to do this, Dace." Jarrod warned.

"I don't? Why, because you say so?"

"Running now will just make you look guilty."

"Yeah, well, I'll be free while I'm looking guilty, and right now that's all I care about. Now, call that sheriff back here." He stood up, all the while keeping the gun pointed at Jarrod. "Call him, nice and calm, just like we was done talking."

Jarrod swallowed and licked his lips, never taking his eyes off the gun.

"Fred! I'm ready."

"Be right there, Jarrod."

"That was real good. Now, get up." Jarrod obeyed wordlessly. "Now, stand facing me, between me and the door. Move!"

Jarrod stood, still staring at Dace, and moved to stand in front of the door. Fred came up behind him, and they heard the clink of the key in the lock. Fred swung the door open and waited for Jarrod to step out.

"Jarrod?"

Dace jerked his head to the left, indicating that Jarrod should step aside. He moved, just enough for Fred to see the gun Dace held.

"Now, toss that key out there on the floor, real easy, and move over there with the lawyer."

"Son, you don't want to do this." Fred told the prisoner.

"Now why does everyone seem to know what I want to do or don't want to do? Move! And shut up!"

Jarrod and Fred moved deeper into the cell, as Dace moved closer to the door, all of them circling, carefully watching the other, ready for any opportunity. Just as Dace stepped through the door and reached down for the keys, Jarrod made his move.

Unfortunately, Dace was quicker than Jarrod, or more determined to have his way. Jarrod hadn't taken more than two steps when the gun went off. Jarrod grabbed his left side and started to folding, falling slowly, still staring at his client.

"Jarrod!" Fred shouted. He moved to grab Jarrod, but stopped when Dace waved the gun threateningly in his direction. Jarrod fell heavily, hitting his head on the wall. Dace locked the cell door, and threw the keys to the side. Without a backward glance, he ran out the door.

Fred went to the window. He could see Dace scrambling onto a horse someone was holding. Dace's brother! They must have set this up earlier, planned it all along.

"Somebody help us!" Fred shouted out the window.

Men, alerted by the sound of a gunshot and Fred's shouts, hurried into the jail and opened the cell door.

"Somebody get the doc!" Fred yelled. He knelt down, loosening Jarrod's shirt collar. Jarrod's pale face and shallow breathing worried him. "Hang on, Jarrod. Help's on the way."

But Jarrod, unconscious, never heard his reassurances.

Part 6

Nick and Heath did come back to the house for lunch, as Nick had promised. They weren't actually together, but they were in the same room at the same time. Victoria tried not to read more into it than there was, but she couldn't help smiling.

They took their places at the table, and began passing the food. With full plates, conversation was minimal, and Victoria realized Nick never directly addressed Heath. But they had come in at the same time, and it was a beginning.

Nick had just started a story about something that happened that morning, when suddenly someone was pounding on the front door. They all shared a look, then rose as one and headed for the front room.

Silas had already opened the door, and let young Donnie in. His father owned the general store, and Donnie sometimes ran errands for people in town.

Just now he looked decidedly uncomfortable, running his hands around the brim of his hat, which he was nervously holding.

"Miz Barkley, there's been an accident." he began.

"What happened?" Nick demanded.

"Well, Mr. Barkley, it's your brother. He's been shot."

Victoria gasped, and put her hand over her mouth. Heath came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"What happened, Donnie?" Heath asked quietly.

"It's that prisoner, that Dawson fella. Somehow he got hold of a gun, and when your brother went to see him, Dawson broke out. Your brother got shot."

"Where is he?"

"They took him over to the doc's place. Sheriff's gettin' up a posse, thought you might like to join him."

"I'll be ready in five minutes." Nick said.

"I'm going with you." Heath said.

"Not with me, you're not."

"Then I'll go with Fred."

Nick stopped and stared at him. Then he shrugged.

"Suit yourself." He headed for the stairs. Heath was right behind him.

They were back down faster than Nick said, with their gear ready to go.

"I'll get Audra from the orphanage and we'll go to Doc Merar's. You boys be careful."

"We will." Heath promised. "You just take care of Jarrod." He followed Nick and Donnie out the front door.

Part 7

Fred led the posse north of town and toward the hills. They all figured the Dawson brothers would head back toward their cabin.

At one point, Fred held up his hand to stop them. Dismounting, he examined the ground carefully, then stood up and stretched.

"Well, they're not trying to hide their tracks. They must be pretty sure of themselves. Or pretty stupid."

"Or we're riding straight into a trap." Nick pointed out.

The men sat silently, contemplating this possibility.

"Maybe we should split up, go around. Make ourselves a less visible target."

"Yeah, you may be right, Nick. We can cover more ground that way, too." Fred agreed. "Okay, Sam, Frank, you go with the Barkleys. The rest of you come with me."

Heath saw Nick visibly stiffen at Fred's use of 'Barkleys' in the plural, but the big man said nothing. Heath was grateful for Nick's unusual silence. He figured Nick was just worried about Jarrod.

He was worried about Jarrod, too. In the month since he'd been at the ranch, Jarrod had treated him with nothing but kindness and decency. Mrs. Barkley had been a bit reserved, at first, but that was to be expected. She had warmed quite a bit toward him lately, and he just hoped he'd be given the time to return the favor to her. She wasn't his mama, but she seemed like a wonderful woman. Audra had adored him from the start, and for that he was grateful.

Nick was the one member of the family who made him seriously consider riding past the house every night, and continuing on down the road. Nick worked him harder than any of the other men on the ranch. Nick expected more from him than any of the others. And, Nick was the one member of the family who refused to consider that Heath might have a place in that family.

Funny, though, Nick was the one whose opinion he valued the most. Nick was the one he most wanted to spend time with. Nick was the one who, Heath felt, saw things and felt things the way he himself did. And that made him hurt that much more when Nick pushed him away. He watched Nick, riding at the front of the group. Yes, his brother was a special person. Heath just hoped that Nick would soon see that he, too, had a lot to offer.

'He's staring at me' Nick thought. 'I don't know how I know it, but I know it.' They had been riding for over an hour without seeing anything more menacing than a rabbit, but Nick wasn't ready to give up. One of these men had shot his brother, and Nick would make sure he paid for that.

He wondered how Jarrod was, if he was even still alive. Yes, of course he was. Nick would entertain no other possibility. Jarrod would recover, they would find these men and bring them to justice, and life would go on like before.

'Except for that stranger back there staring at me', Nick thought grimly. 'He'll still be here.'

Nick stopped and held his hand up. The others pulled up behind him, waiting.

"It will be dark soon. Much as I hate to stop now, I think it would be best. Let's camp here."

Nick handed his reins to Sam. "You two take care of the horses, and set up camp. I'm going to look around a bit." He said nothing to Heath, which the others noticed but pretended not to.

Heath noticed the intentional slight, and decided to ignore it. There was too much at stake here for them to become embroiled in hashing out petty differences. Although, if Heath was truly honest with himself, he would have to admit this matter was anything but petty. When would Nick be able to accept him?

As Nick walked away, Heath decided he would try to put together some kind of meal. They hadn't brought much with them, not expecting to be out long, but he was sure he could manage something. Funny, how this lack of provisions now worried him, where once he would not have given it much thought. They had expected to have rounded up their prey by now, and to be heading home. Oh, well, he'd make do. His mama had taught him well.

Nick didn't go far from the camp, just a cursory search of the area surrounding the camp. He had fully expected to be home by now. These Dawson brothers were smarter than he had expected them to be. They must have planned this well. Nick wondered just how innocent Dace Dawson really was. He turned to head back toward the camp, then stopped suddenly, barely breathing, waiting. Was that a snapping twig he'd just heard? He thought he could feel strange eyes upon his back. Then his anger rose. Probably that boy, following him, unnerving him and laughing about it. Nick shook off any fear he might have felt, and headed toward camp.

The others were waiting for supper when he got there. Somehow, that boy had managed to catch some fish from the nearby stream, and was cooking them over the fire. Nick refused to acknowledge his efforts, but he had to admit the fish smelled wonderful.

After they had eaten, and cleaned up, Nick announced he would take first watch. He'd never traveled with Sam and Frank, and he wasn't about to trust his skin to that boy. Nick shook his head, trying to erase those thought. At this rate, he mused, I'll have every watch tonight. I'll just have him go last, toward morning, when hopefully there's less chance for danger.

As he sat staring into the fire, Nick wondered again how Jarrod was, how his mother and Audra were. He knew they were with Jarrod, and that made him feel a little better. Too bad he was out here, alone, away from his family.

You're not alone. Your brother is here.

Nick shook his head, and rubbed his weary eyes. The little voice his Father always called his conscience was trying to confuse him again.

Give him a chance, Nick. Get to know him.

It would be a cold day in hell before he'd give that boy a chance to do anything other than pack his stuff and leave.

The horses suddenly seemed restless, and Nick went to check on them. He never saw the dark figure behind the tree. As he checked to make certain the horses were well tied, he didn't hear the other man sneak up behind him. Suddenly, Nick saw stars, as a tremendous pain swelled in his head. Then everything went dark.

Part 8

Victoria watched quietly as Howard finished bandaging Jarrod's head.

"He's really very lucky, Victoria. Either Dawson is a pretty bad shot, or he really didn't intend to hurt Jarrod. That's not much more than a flesh wound in his side."

"Then why doesn't he wake up?" Victoria asked.

"It does bother me some." Howard admitted. "Although, Fred said he hit his head pretty hard when he fell. We'll just watch him, and hope."

And watch him they did, as the afternoon turned to evening, then to night. He ran a slight fever, though Howard didn't seem to be too concerned. And, just when they were beginning to arrange shifts for the night watch, Jarrod opened his eyes.

They didn't notice at first, as they were busy discussing him and had turned away. He coughed slightly, causing all three to jump at the sound.

"Jarrod!"

Jarrod tried to focus on his mother's face, even though his eyes did not want to cooperate.

"Let me have a look at you, Jarrod." That was Howard's voice in his ear.

When Howard finished his examination, he smiled at Victoria and Audra.

"I think he'll be just fine, with rest and time." He watched as they visibly relaxed.

"Why does -- head hurt?" Jarrod mumbled.

"You hit it on the wall when you fell." The doctor's answer seemed to satisfy Jarrod, as they watched his eyes start to close again.

Victoria was sitting with him, much later, when he awoke and complained of thirst. He was much more lucid this time, and wanted details.

Victoria explained how Dace was gone, and Fred had led a posse out after him.

"Nick and Heath?"

"They went along."

"Together?" Jarrod's sarcasm was not lost on his mother.

"You rest, young man, and don't worry about them."

She fluffed his pillow slightly, and tucked the blanket more firmly around his chest.

"Now, go back to sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

"Mother?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you think they're okay?"

"I hope so, dear."

Jarrod closed his eyes, then asked softly, "Do you think they'll be okay?"

Victoria knew he was speaking of more than tonight, farther than tomorrow, and she had no answer for him.

Part 9

Nick woke slowly, painfully, trying desperately to open his eyes and focus on anything. Whomever had hit him had done a good job, his skull felt ready to explode.

He eased to a sitting position, and tried to get his bearings. The horses were still there, thank God for some people's stupidity. As long as he had a horse, he wasn't stuck here. Wherever here was.

When the dizziness eased, and the pounding in his head started to subside, Nick used the nearest tree to pull himself upright. The camp was still like he remembered it to be, before he checked on the horses. It was now deep night, with stars decorating the sky. Nick squinted up at the half moon. It had moved since he took watch. He must have been out for at least an hour, maybe two.

As soon as the ground stopped spinning, Nick tried a step, then two. Okay, so he could still walk. He didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere, except a small cut on the back of his head. Luckily, whomever had hit him hit where he was least likely to be hurt. Thank God for a hard Barkley head, Nick thought ruefully.

Moving slowly away from the horses, Nick surveyed the camp. He suddenly realized he was without his gun, and the intruders might still be there. The thought caused him to stop suddenly and wait, as though waiting for someone to do something. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes and looked around.

Okay, the fire was still going, although it could use some more wood. Sam and Frank were on top of their blankets. On checking them, Nick found them both to be dead. Moving slowly around the fire, Nick stopped suddenly and watched the third figure closely, looking for some small sign of life. He sighed audibly as he saw the man's lower side rise and fall in breathing. Hopefully, Heath wasn't badly hurt. The nearest doctor was miles away. And Nick didn't feel like playing nursemaid, at least not to him.

He crouched down behind Heath, cringing when he saw the blood on the blanket in front of him. Heath had been shot somewhere. Nick put his left hand on Heath's shoulder, turning him easily onto his back. He was reaching to check the severity of the wound when he stopped, his right hand frozen in mid-air.

The wounded man on the blanket was not Heath.

Part 10

Nick stared down at the man on the blanket. His size and coloring were close to Heath. But he wasn't Heath, this stranger bleeding on Heath's blanket.

"Who are you?" he demanded to know.

"Jeff Dawson. Dace is my brother."

"Where's Dace?"

"He left, with that man that was sleeping here."

Nick was flooded with anger, wondering what game Heath was playing with him.

"He didn't want to go." Jeff said.

"What?"

"He didn't want to go. He fought with Dace and me, fought real good. That's how I got shot. But Dace, he's real strong."

Nick could see the boy was hurting, sweating profusely and straining to talk. But he wanted answers, and he wanted them now. This man had shot his brother, and Nick planned to find him and make him pay.

"How long was I out?"

"Not more'n hour or so."

"Then they couldn't have gotten too far ahead." Nick pulled on the boy's arm. "Get up. Let's go."

"Where we goin'?"

"After your brother."

"Mister, I'm shot! I can't sit on a horse."

"Then I'll tie you on if I have to, but you're coming with me."

Nick got the boy into a sitting position, then went to get the horses. He stopped near the bodies of Sam and Frank, decent enough men, out to do a job. Now they were dead. Nick knew the time it would take to bury them would put him even further behind, but it was the decent thing to do.

Working as quickly as possible, Nick was soon ready to douse the fire. He wished the moon was full. It would make traveling easier.

"Don't you think it's dangerous to travel in the dark?" the boy asked.

"Just hope your horse knows where to step."

Nick helped the wounded man onto the horse, then mounted Coco.

"Which way?"

The boy pointed to a break in the trees. Nick grabbed the reins of the other horse, and urged Coco into the trees.

As they rode, Nick wondered if Heath was trying to leave a trail for him. Broken branches stood out in the moonlight. Hoofprints, as though the horse stood stomping in one place. Nick smiled at the thought that Heath was giving Dawson a run for his money. The smile quickly gave way to a sobering thought. If Heath was fighting Dawson, he was still alive, but at what cost?

The trees were growing thicker here, closer together. Their tops all but blotted out any light from the moon. Nick hoped they would come to open land again, which would make tracking easier. He wanted to find Dawson, wanted to make him pay for what he had done to his brother. And to Heath. When Nick really thought about it, Heath wasn't a bad guy, he was just someone looking for something he couldn't have. Nick wondered if he was still alive.

It didn't take long for Nick to get the answer to his question. As they rounded a thick thatch of bushes, the uphill trail suddenly leveled into a flat, open space in the trees, almost like a cocoon there on the side of the hill. Dawson stood waiting for him.

"I decided to let you catch me, Barkley. I'm tired of playing."

Dawson grinned evilly, and pulled on the rope he was holding. Heath was tied to the other end, bruised, bloody, but very much alive.

"Okay, Dawson, let's trade. Your prisoner for mine."

"So, my brother is your prisoner. Is your brother my prisoner?"

When Nick didn't answer, Dace laughed at him.

"Nick Barkley, undecided. I never thought I'd see it. I've heard the talk. Everyone's heard the talk. I come to town, I drink in the bar, I see things. Is he your brother, or not? You decide. Do you want him back?"

"I want to see you dead."

"I've no doubt about that." He pulled on the rope, viciously this time, and Nick heard Heath's muffled groan. Heath's hands were tied behind him, his feet were tied, and the rope Dace was holding ran between the bindings. Heath was helpless to defend himself.

"You know what's down there?" Dace pointed to a dark spot just beyond the trees. "I've been down there. I know this country, in ways you don't. There's nothing down there, nothing at all. A big, dark hole. Suppose I drop him in that big, dark hole?"

Dace took two steps backward, dragging Heath toward the darkness that lay beyond.

Nick stepped forward, stopping when Dace pointed a gun at him.

"I shot your brother with this gun. Maybe I can take out two Barkleys with it." He backed up a few more steps, still pulling on the rope.

Heath was trying to crawl, trying to keep the pressure of Dace's tugs from pulling on his wrists. With every tug of the rope, he felt as though his arms would be pulled backward from their sockets. But, it was hard to crawl with his feet tied together, and he kept losing his balance, falling face first into the dirt. His mind was racing, frantically trying to think of a way to save himself. Heath held no illusion that Nick would try to help him.

Nick's mind was working frantically, too. Whatever Heath was, whoever he was, Nick could not stand by and watch Dace murder him. But Dace was close to that dark place. Nick wondered what lay down there. Was it a drop off, as Dace had hinted? Or maybe he was lying, buying himself some time. Dace was also holding a loaded gun. Nick was quickly forming and discarding plans when he heard the dull thud behind him, the sound of a body hitting the ground.

Nick closed his eyes briefly and sighed. Jeff Dawson must have fallen off his horse. Nick supposed he was dead, and with him Nick's hopes of a prisoner exchange. Dace saw the body fall, and shrugged.

"Oh, well, I guess you lose."

Nick lunged for him as Dace gave a final pull to the rope, bringing Heath to the edge of the darkness. With a savage kick, Dace sent Heath's body off into the darkness, mere seconds before Nick threw himself on the ground in a desperate grab for the end of the rope.

He lay there, dazed, stunned at what he had seen. Reaching forward, as far as he could, Nick could feel nothing but space. Reaching straight down in front of him, Nick could feel the rock, plunging straight down in front of him. As far as his arm could reach, and farther. Dace was right, a black hole. And Heath was down there, somewhere.

Part 11

While Nick was laying on his belly at the edge of the hole, Dace was able to get away. Nick didn't even know he had gone, until he sat up and realized Dace wasn't there. And, at this moment, he really didn't care.

He had to find a way to get down in that hole. Unfortunately, he had no idea how deep it was, or how large it was. He might end up getting trapped himself, then where would they be? No one even knew where they were.

Nick wished the moonlight would light up this little plateau. He'd never seen any place like this, never knew it existed. He wished he didn't know about it now, either.

The big cowboy pushed himself up, then sat back, leaning against a tree. He couldn't imagine sitting here all night, waiting for dawn and the chance to act. Nick didn't sit still well, he was a man used to action.

A faint groan startled him out of his thoughts. He looked over to where the boy had landed. With a rush of guilt, Nick realized he hadn't even thought about the boy since he fell off the horse. He slid over to sit beside the boy's body, still amazingly warm. Nick's eyes widened. This boy wasn't dead. He hurried to Coco, to get his blanket to cover him with.

As Nick returned, he saw the boy's eyes open halfway.

"I thought you were dead." He said, as he covered the figure on the ground.

"I will be, before long."

"No, no you just relax. As soon as it gets light, I'll get some help."

"Be too late for me. Where's that other guy?"

"He's--he fell--Dace threw him off the cliff."

The boy's face twisted as pain shot through him. Nick took the boy's hand in his, not knowing what else to do.

"I don't remember your name." Nick told him as the pain seemed to ease.

"I'm Jeff. He something to you, that man?"

Nick wasn't certain how to answer, so he didn't. Heath was an employee, a hard worker. He lived in the same house as Nick did, called Nick's family his own, but what was he to Nick? Was he anything more than an nuisance, an aggravation?

"Dace said he's your lost brother, that your pa--you know."

Nick ignored the boy's words.

"Just relax. Don't try to talk."

"Talkin' makes it less lonely. Where's Dace?"

"He's gone."

The boy sighed deeply.

"Figures. He shot that farmer, you know."

Nick just sat silently, listening.

"He wasn't always like that. He changed, after ma died. He used to be a good brother."

"Well, sometimes life does strange things to us." Nick said.

"I bet you're a good brother." The wounded man shivered with cold and pain. His breathing became more shallow.

"Hey," Nick said, "you hang on."

"Can't. Nothin' to hang on to."

Nick sat there in the dark, holding a stranger's hand in his own, a hand that gradually grew colder and more slack. And, as he watched, the last bit of life drifted from the boy's body, and he was gone.

Now Nick was truly alone, here on this mountainside in the dark.

HOW DO YOU THINK HE FEELS? DOES HE HAVE ANYTHING TO HOLD ON TO?

Nick was not a fearful man, definitely not a coward. But he wished someone was here, anyone, just to keep him company.

EVEN THE MAN IN THE DARK HOLE?

Nick shook his head angrily, trying to shake off the thoughts swirling around inside his head. His conscience was talking to him again, trying to make him think about things he'd rather not.

WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, NICK?

I'll get him out, somehow. Just leave me alone.

AND THEN WHAT?

Nick jumped up angrily and began to pace, as far as he could in the small space. He wanted nothing more than to jump on Coco and ride, ride far away from this place, ride back home to find Jarrod safe, and his mother and sister waiting.

I'M SURE HE'D LIKE TO RIDE HOME WITH YOU..

Nick sat down and covered his face with his hands. His father was right. You can't run away from your conscience. It follows you, talks to you when you least expect it. Or want it.

WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?

I'm going to wait for daylight, then I'll see what's beyond that drop-off, then I'll think of something. I'll get him out!

AND THEN WHAT?

Nick didn't know what would happen after that. If Heath were still alive--Nick shuddered, realizing he didn't even know if the man was alive or dead. What a mess, Nick thought.

THE DEAD MAN THINKS YOU WOULD BE A GOOD BROTHER? ARE YOU?

I'm sitting here in the dark with a dead man, while his brother is running loose out there, and I don't even know if my own brother is still alive.

WHICH BROTHER?

You know I only have one brother.

WHAT ABOUT THE MAN IN THE DARK HOLE?

He's not my brother. He's---

HE'S WHAT?

He's my father's son.

DOESN'T THAT MAKE HIM YOUR BROTHER?

Jarrod is my brother.

JARROD IS ALSO YOUR FATHER'S SON.

Jarrod is my brother.

HEATH IS YOUR FATHER'S SON.

No, Heath is my brother.

Nick suddenly realized his conscience had taken him around in a circle, and dropped him off exactly where it wanted him to be.

SO, HEATH IS YOUR BROTHER?

Nick once again covered his face with his hands as the realization hit him, like a fist in the stomach. Heath was his brother. He could say it now, feel it, without hating the sound, without hurting at the thought. Heath is my brother. Heath would never replace the void in his heart that his father's death had left, but maybe Heath could help ease the pain.

If he wanted to. Nick knew the man might decide to ride on after this. He knew he might have pushed Heath away for the last time.

JARROD WARNED YOU.

Yes, Jarrod warned me. I'll just have to hope I can make it up to him, hope he'll give me the chance to try.

YOU DIDN'T GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

I know, I know. I have a lot of making up to do, when I get him out of that hole.

WHAT IF YOU'RE TOO LATE?

Stop! Go away! Whose side are you on, anyway?

Nick waited, but no answer was given. Only the lonely sound of an owl broke the silence of the darkened grove. Nick shivered as the wind picked up, blowing in little circles around him before it, too, left him. He was sitting in the dark, keeping company with a dead man, not knowing if either of his brothers were still alive. Nick Barkley had never felt more alone in his life. He eyed the blanket covering the dead boy on the ground. It was his blanket, and who would know?

YOU WOULD.

Why do you come around when I don't want you?

Nick decided to leave the blanket covering the dead boy. It was the respectful thing to do. Besides, if Heath was cold, without a blanket, then he would be, too.

Nick could see the edge of the dark hole, looming in front of him. What would he find there in the morning? He wished morning would hurry. Might as well keep busy, he thought, getting the small shovel from his gear. The least I can do is bury the boy. I seem to be burying a lot of people today, Nick thought, pushing the shovel into the dirt at various spots, looking for a soft area. I wonder who else I'll need to bury. 'Stop!' he told himself. 'Don't think that way.'

It became increasingly more difficult, though, as lack of sleep, lack of food, and the pressing weight of fear began to take its toll. Nick had never prayed for dawn as deeply and fervently as he did that night.

As he busied himself with digging and praying, Nick didn't notice, but the birds did. Their song, swelling in the treetops and spilling down the mountain, told the coming of dawn long before Nick finished his task. He finally saw it, as he stood and rubbed his lower back, the first pink streaks shooting through the dark sky. Grim-faced, he once again lay down on his belly at the mouth of the dark hole, and waited for full light.

Part 12

Nick's belly was cold, and itchy, where he lay on the ground at the edge of the hole, waiting for enough daylight for him to see what was down there. He knew he had never waited so patiently for anything in his life.

As dawn painted the sky pink and blue, Nick could see the dark shadows receding down into the hole. As the shadows backed away, what he saw made him smile.

The hole wasn't so much a hole as a drop off. Nick once again slid his hand straight down in front of him. Again, he could not reach the bottom of the downward drop. But, he could see it, or rather, he could see the ground as it sloped away from the bottom of the cliff overhang.

Nick stood up and went to where Coco stood, patiently waiting. He would need a rope to tie around a tree. He would need some way to get them out of the hole. THEM. This time, Nick smiled when his conscience spoke to him. Yes, them, he thought, smiling. It had such a nice ring to it.

Securing the rope to a tree, Nick eased to the very edge of the cliff. Looking over the side, he swallowed hard at the thought of dropping off into the unknown. But Heath was down there, and Nick would not go home without Heath. Holding that thought firmly in his mind, Nick turned his back to the open space, and stepped off the edge.

And that wasn't well thought out, he realized, as he had to scramble to keep from slamming into the face of the rock. Taking a deep breath, he waited while he stopped spinning, then began to descend more slowly.

The smooth face of the drop off was not as deep as he originally thought, although, at about ten feet down, it was easy to see why he couldn't reach the bottom with his arm. When he reached the bottom, where the ground sloped away from the cliff face, he secured the end of the rope with a rock. Nick wanted to make sure it was still there when he wanted it.

He stopped at the bottom and looked around. The ground fell away into a grove of trees, starting about thirty feet away from the cliff. Nick did mental arithmetic. Heath fell ten feet, then rolled or slid about thirty feet, to disappear somewhere in the trees below. Could he still be alive?

Nick sidestepped slowly down the hill. If Heath survived the fall, then he rolled somewhere in among the trees. Actually, in the thick bushes at the bottom of the trees. Nick picked up a fallen branch, to use to poke in the bush. Hopefully, he wouldn't scare out a snake.

"HEATH!"

As his voice echoed away, Nick hung his head. He had no idea why he'd just yelled that way. It wasn't as though Heath could answer him, bound and gagged as he was.

The bush in front of him moved.

Maybe he could answer. Or, maybe that was a snake, a whole nest of them. Nick reached toward the bush with the branch, his hand shaking slightly, poking lightly into the undergrowth. No snake appeared, so Nick felt bold enough to move closer, to push the bush apart with his stick.

Two blue eyes blinked up at him.

Nick decided then and there he had never seen a shade of blue more beautiful than those eyes. He squatted down beside the brush, reaching out to undo the gag. His hand stopped in mid-air as Heath flinched.

WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?

"Shut up!"

Seeing the confused look on Heath's face, Nick laughed as he removed the gag from his brother's mouth.

"Not you. I want to hear you talk."

"What took you so long?" the blonde man croaked at him.

Grinning, Nick grabbed Heath by his shirt front, and gently began to pull him forward, out of the brush. He stopped pulling as Heath groaned in pain.

"Look, I know it hurts, but I have to get you out of here." As Heath nodded, Nick resumed pulling, then dragging, until finally Heath was free of the bush and laying on the rocky ground. Rolling him over onto his stomach, Nick began working to loosen the ropes that Dawson had bound Heath with.

As the ropes loosened, as circulation returned to his stiffened limbs, bringing excruciating pain, darkness threatened to overwhelm Heath. He shook his head, fighting to stay awake, as Nick hurried to remove the last of the ropes.

"There. Now, roll over on your back and let me look at you."

But Nick had to roll him over, he was so stiff from spending the night tied up. Gently, Nick rolled Heath onto his back, and examined his brother.

"I don't think you broke anything. You rest for awhile, then we're getting out of here."

"I don't suppose you brought water?"

Nick hung his head. He hadn't thought about thirst, his only thought had been to find the man he thought he'd lost.

"That's okay. I'll wait."

"Well, stop trying to talk. You sound terrible."

When Heath felt he'd rested enough, when the burning in his arms and legs told him the blood was flowing again, he was ready to get out of the hole Dace had thrown him in. But he didn't have the strength to pull himself up the face of the cliff. He tried several times, then gave up, falling to the ground in despair.

"I waited all night, I'm not giving up now." Nick told him firmly.

Nick stood, surveying the face of the cliff before him. It only took him a few minutes of scrutiny before he was smiling at Heath.

"Okay, here's what we do. I'll tie the rope around you, then you sit here and hold it still while I climb up. Then I'll pull you up."

Heath just stared at him.

"Well, do you have a better idea?"

Heath had to admit he didn't. So he sat quietly, while Nick tied the rope around him, then began to climb.

Halfway up, Nick had to admit he was glad the wall wasn't any higher than it was. Climbing up the rope was much harder than sliding down. Then, he still had Heath to pull up. But he would not stop until they were both at the top.

And he didn't, although they were both sweating profusely by the time Nick pulled Heath up over the top. As they lay there, breathing heavily, Heath looked over at Nick.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Heath nodded, resting quietly for a moment. Then he turned toward Nick.

"Got any water?"

Nick laughed heartily, then struggled to his feet and over to Coco, where his canteen was hanging. Bringing it back to Heath, he helped the blonde into a sitting position, then held the canteen to his mouth.

"Just a little."

Heath drank thirstily, as long as Nick held the water there, which wasn't long enough. As he swallowed the last drink, Nick told him "As soon as you feel like you can sit on a horse, we'll head for home."

"I don't know how well I can sit on a horse."

"Then I'll tie you on. You're not the first person I've threatened to do that to recently."

Heath frowned at him, clearly confused.

"I'll tell you about it sometime." Nick promised.

Heath smiled.

"Home. You sure, Nick?"

"I've never been more sure."

Heath struggled to his feet. Nick hurried to help him to the other horse. Heath stopped when he came to the fresh grave.

"Who's that?"

"Jeff Dawson, Dace's younger brother."

"Too bad."

"Yeah. But, at least it's not my younger brother."

Heath blinked rapidly and turned his head away from Nick.

TELL HIM.

He's been through enough. Can't it wait?

TELL HIM NOW, WHILE YOU STILL HAVE THE NERVE. WHILE IT WILL MEAN SOMETHING.

"Heath?"

Heath's head rose, from where he had been leaning on the horse, but he didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry, Heath. I was wrong."

Heath didn't answer, but he nodded, and it looked to Nick as though he stood a little straighter.

"Help me up on this horse and let's get out of here."

"I agree, little brother. We've got family waiting."

Again, the silence, while Heath looked off into the distance.

"Jarrod?"

"I don't know, Heath. I just keep hoping for the best."

Heath picked up the reins, and looked at Nick.

"Well, why don't we go find out?"

"I think that's a good idea."

"Hey, Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"You sure seem to change your mind about things awful fast."

"Get used to it, brother."

As they rode slowly away from the clearing , the horses carefully picking their way, Nick looked back at the fresh grave, in this place he hoped never to see again, and sent up one more prayer, this one of thanks.

Part 13

Morning found Jarrod awake, alert, and hungry, for food and news.

"Jarrod, I will get you something to eat, but I can't tell you things I don't know." Victoria told him. "As soon as I know anything, you'll know, too."

But Jarrod became more restless as the morning passed, insisting on sitting up, then almost falling out of bed when dizziness overcame him. He refused to sleep, then dozed off in mid-sentence. Victoria was almost at wit's end, and voiced her concerns to Howard in the hallway, as Audra sat with the patient.

"Victoria, he's not hurt badly, so it's hard to keep him still. He's hurt just enough to make him weak, which makes him irritable, which only makes him more irritable." The doctor was pleased to see Victoria smile at his joke. "Now, if he continues to improve, and I see no reason why he shouldn't, then I'll send you all home tonight, when the weather cools, provided Jarrod follows my instructions."

Victoria thanked the doctor, and went to relay the news to Jarrod and Audra. Jarrod was especially pleased.

"I told you I wasn't hurt."

"Jarrod, you were shot." Audra exclaimed.

"And Nick's been hurt worse than me, and still got up and rode home. I'll bet Heath has, too. Have you heard anything from them?"

But none of the posse had returned, and they had no news to tell him.

With the promise of going home, Jarrod relaxed, and was waking from a refreshing nap when Fred and some of the men rode back into town.

Fred came to the doctor's office to check on his friend. He relaxed when he learned that Jarrod and family would be going home that evening.

"Where are Nick and Heath?" Victoria asked.

Fred opened his mouth, then closed it as words failed him. He shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing the brim of his hat with his thumb.

"Fred?" she prompted gently.

"I don't know, Victoria. We split up yesterday, thinking to cover more ground. We found their camp this morning, and there's two new graves. But, no way to tell who..." his voice trailed off.

Victoria clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling the gasp that almost escaped. She could not fall apart now. Now was not the right time.

"We're going right back out." Fred assured her, his voice firm again. "We just came back for fresh horses, and more supplies. We'll find them."

Victoria could only pray he found them alive and well. Yes, he would, she mentally shook herself. She would not entertain any other thoughts.

Part 14

They rode slowly downhill. Nick was in a great hurry to get home, but he knew Heath wouldn't be able to ride that fast. Nick forced himself to swallow his impatience. They were making a beginning here, and Nick was determined not to ruin it with unimportant matters. So what if it took them all day to get home? They'd be in time for dinner.

Nick sneaked little glances at the man riding beside him, the profile of his father in a much younger face. Their father. Nick drew in a deep, filling breath at the thought. Despite his loud, rough ways, Nick was a tender man inside. He would give to anyone in need, if he had what they needed. But, with Heath, Nick was being forced to share the one thing he didn't share easily--his family.

But now, in the light of this beautiful new day, Nick could admit, at last, what had made him close his heart to Heath. It wasn't the idea of sharing his family, Nick would do that with anyone he called a good friend. No, it was the knowledge that someday he would have to share memories of his father with this newcomer. No man in the world had ever, or would ever, command Nick's love and respect as much as his father had. As long as he could hold those memories close, his father would never be far away. Nick now realized that sharing those memories, teaching Heath about the wonderful man their father was, would keep those memories alive.

He stole another sideways glance at the blonde man riding next to him. Bruised, bloody, and covered in dirt as he was, Nick thought he looked pretty good.

"If you want to stare at me, just do it outright."

"Huh?" Nick was caught off-guard.

"I said, just stare at me. Stop looking at me out of the corner of your eye."

Nick turned as far to the left as he could, without falling out of the saddle.

"Is this better?" he asked.

Heath grinned at him.

"You never cease to amaze me."

They rode in silence for awhile, then Heath abruptly stopped his horse.

"What are we doing?" Nick asked.

"I'm just sitting here a minute, enjoying the scenery."

"Uh-huh." Nick wasn't fooled. The color had left Heath's face long ago, and he was sweating profusely, although it was only mid-day. He was in great pain, but he would never complain to Nick.

Nick knew if they didn't rest for awhile, Heath would never make it home.

"Okay, let's stop here and rest."

"Nick, you had to push me into the saddle back there..."

"And I'll do it again if I have to. Now, can you get down, or do you need my help?"

It took Heath a few minutes, but he managed to get down off the horse, to fall back in the soft grass. A small groan escaped.

"You okay?" Nick leaned over him.

"I've been better. And, stop hovering, you're blocking my view."

Nick squinted, staring at the cloudless sky. He couldn't see anything worth looking at.

But Heath could. The clear blue of the summer sky, the same shade as his mother's eyes; the sky cloudless, as her eyes had most often been. He hoped she could see him now, see all the possibilities for happiness that lay before him. As long as he could let Nick be in charge.

Heath was a strong man, physically and mentally. He had long ago learned to depend upon himself, depend on his wits and abilities. Now, it wasn't just his own wants and needs he had to consider. Now he would have to learn to be part of a whole, part of something bigger and stronger than he was; a family.

Where once Heath would have fought the idea of any man taking care of him, telling him what to do and when to do it, now he wondered if it was such a bad idea. Heath had to admit, at least to himself, that sometimes he grew weary of being in charge, tired of always having to be strong. It might be nice, once in a while, to sit back and let someone else be in charge, to let someone else do the planning and worrying.

"You about ready to ride?"

Nick's voice startled him out of his reverie.

"I guess. You ready to push me back on the horse?"

Nick laughed, and reached down to help his brother up.

The remainder of the morning, and into the afternoon, they followed this pattern, riding for awhile, resting for awhile. Nick noticed, as the day wore on, that the rest stops grew longer, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to get Heath back into the saddle.

"I could ride on ahead and come back with a wagon." Nick suggested.

"And leave me out here all alone?" The words were said jokingly, but Nick caught the undercurrent of fear in Heath's voice. After all, Heath was the one Dace had kidnapped.

"Sorry, Heath. I wasn't thinking."

"Not a problem. Just don't leave me, okay?"

"After all the trouble I went through to get you out of that hole? I don't think so." Nick teased him.

They were getting closer to Barkley land, and Nick was grateful. He knew Heath couldn't last much longer. Even if nothing was broken, the severe bruising he'd received would be enough to lay up a lesser man. Yeah, Heath was a Barkley, alright. Stubborn as the day was long.

A smile creased Nick's face, and he turned toward Heath to suggest another rest stop, just as a shot rang out and Heath's hat flew off.

They landed in the brush as the horses scattered. Nick heard Heath's groan as he landed.

"Heath! You okay?"

"I've been better."

"You said that earlier."

"I mean it more now."

They lay there quietly, waiting for something else to happen. When nothing did, Nick raised up enough to look around. This brought more gunfire.

"Do you think that's who I think it is?" Nick asked.

"I'm sorry to say that made sense." Heath replied.

"Barkley!"

Both men froze at the sound of Dace's voice.

"You should have left the mongrel in the hole where I dropped him. Would have saved me some trouble."

"Okay, Nick, now what?" Heath asked.

But Nick had nothing to say. He wouldn't admit he had rescued Heath, only to watch him die now. He wouldn't admit he was out of ideas.

Part 15

Nick and Heath lay quietly in the brush.

"Okay, Nick, now what?" Heath asked.

Nick didn't answer. His brain was working furiously, but nothing productive was coming out of it. He looked up as he heard Heath sigh.

"That's what I was afraid of. Neither one of us has any ideas."

"I'm sorry, Heath. I can't seem to make my brain work."

"Me, neither. I'm tired, and hungry, and fresh out of ideas."

"Me, too." Nick admitted.

Nick watched the shadows lengthening around them. Soon, it would be dark, and they would be easy targets for Dace Dawson. Nick knew he could probably run, get up and ride away, and he'd be safe.

But, there was no way Heath could escape. He was fighting to stay conscious at this point. It was up to Nick to protect his brother. Lord, it was a huge burden, this responsibility for another's life. It was a burden he felt he could wear more easily if he could just get his wits about him.

Nick reached out and closed his left hand around Heath's arm, a bit of silent encouragement. With his right hand he searched in the brush. Heath watched him, curious. It didn't take Nick long to find what he was looking for. Heath frowned when Nick began working a long stick out of the nearby growth.

"I want to see if we still have company."

Heath just nodded. As he watched, Nick held the stick firmly, then put the other end of it into Heath's fallen hat. Carefully, he raised the stick into the air, slowly, so the hat wouldn't fall off.

It was met with another hail of gunfire. Dace was still out there, somewhere. They were still sitting ducks. Just as the sound of the shots died off, they began again, this time louder and more furiously.

Nick looked over at Heath and raised one eyebrow.

"I thought so, too." Heath said. "Those didn't sound like they were coming from Dace."

"So, what, we just lay here and wait?"

"Stick my hat up in the air again, see what happens."

Nick once again raised Heath's hat on the stick, up into the air. This time, there were no shots, but the sound of horse's hooves. More than one horse.

"Nick? Heath?"

Nick dropped the stick and rolled over on his back, grinning broadly. Fred's voice had never sounded so good.

"Over here!" Nick yelled back.

He stood, waiting for the riders to reach the spot where they had hidden. Heath managed to work himself into a sitting position. It only took a few minutes for Fred and the posse to reach them.

"Are you two okay? Heath, you look terrible." Fred said as he slid off his horse and hurried toward the brothers.

"Thanks, Fred. You look pretty good yourself." Heath replied.

"Dace?" Nick wanted to know.

"Dead. He was so intent on keeping you boys pinned, he never knew we were behind him."

"Jarrod?"

"He's fine. Doc sent him home today."

Nick and Heath breathed a sigh of relief.

"You want me to have someone ride ahead and tell them you're alright?" Fred asked.

"No, just help me get my brother on his horse. We'll surprise them." Nick said.

Fred heard the words Nick used. Startled, he looked to the cowboy for confirmation. Nick just nodded, smiling, though he did look a little ashamed.

"That's good to hear, son." Fred reached out and squeezed Nick's shoulder. "Everything will be okay. Now, let's get this boy on his horse."

It took the combined effort of both men to get Heath back on his horse. Fred reached down and picked up Heath's hat and handed it to him. Heath shook his head.

"I don't want that thing. Looks like a sieve."

Fred and Nick laughed.

"Well, Nick, if you're sure you'll be okay, we'll take care of Dace's body, and head back to town."

"Thanks, Fred." Nick shook the sheriff's hand fervently. "You don't know what this means."

Nick grabbed Coco's reins. He mounted the horse slowly, not with his usual quick swing into the saddle. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and wanted nothing more than to be home, in a soft bed with a full belly.

"Come on, brother." He said to Heath. "Let's go home."

Part 16

Victoria poured two cups of coffee, handing one to Jarrod as he sat propped up in bed.

"I must say, even though we were only gone one night, it's good to have you home, son."

"It's good to be home, Mother. There's nothing quite so comfortable as one's own bed."

"Oh, I agree." She sipped her coffee, then smiled at her son. "You look so much better than you did yesterday."

"Mother, you heard Howard. I wasn't that badly injured in the first place." Jarrod reminded her.

"I know. But, still, you look much better."

"I plan on going downstairs tomorrow." At a look from his mother, he added, "if my head cooperates."

"You are the easier one to keep in bed when necessary." she agreed.

Victoria leaned back, resting her head on the back of the chair as she gazed out the window. Jarrod knew where his mother's thoughts were going.

"I'm sure they're okay." he quietly assured her.

Victoria looked unconvinced.

"Maybe." she said. "Maybe they are alright, riding together, searching for the Dawson brothers. Maybe one, or both of them, is lying in the graves Fred mentioned."

"I don't think so, Mother." Jarrod reasoned. "If either of them were dead, the other would come back to tell us. If both of them were, Sam and Frank would have come back. No, I think they're both still alive."

"But are they alright?"

Jarrod stared into his coffee, desperately looking for an answer for his mother.

"I asked you that question earlier, Mother."

"Yes, you did."

"I'm no closer to an answer now."

"I didn't think you were."

Jarrod smiled at her. She knew him so well. He supposed that's what mothers were best at, knowing their children's thoughts, no matter how old those children might be.

"I don't know, Mother. I can only hope Nick will show some sense." he smiled at his own joke.

"Nick is a smart man." Victoria admitted. "He's also as stubborn as the day is long."

"Do you think he'll ever accept Heath?"

"I don't know. I can hope, but that doesn't mean much. If he'd get to know Heath, open his heart to him, he'd see what a wonderful person Heath really is."

"What about you, Mother?" Jarrod asked. "You seem to have accepted Heath."

"It gets easier each day, Jarrod. Oh, I still get angry at your father, both for his betrayal of our vows, and the fact that his careless behaviour left a little boy to grow up without a father. But, the more I get to know Heath, the less I hurt, the less angry I am, and the more I'm glad he found us."

"I told Nick, the other night, that one day he would want Heath to be there, but Heath might not want to be there, the way Nick treats him. I just hope he gets some sense before it's too late."

"Oh, I think he will."

Jarrod placed his empty cup on the bedtable, and looked quizzically at his mother, sitting there with a small smile on her face.

"What makes you so certain?" he finally asked.

"You father would wait for what he wanted, so patiently, just wait and watch. If he truly wanted something, he was never disappointed. I see that in Heath. He'll wait for Nick to come around, as long as it takes."

Jarrod rested for a while, watching his mother gaze out the window. He noticed the weariness on her face, the tired slope of her small shoulders.

"Mother, why don't you go to bed? I'll be fine."

Victoria considered his words, but didn't answer.

"Stop worrying, and get some rest. You look like you're about to fall apart."

"No, dear, mothers aren't allowed to fall apart." Victoria teased him as she straightened the covers around him, then leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"Mother?"

"Yes, dear?"

"My brothers will come home. Together."

"I hope you're right, Jarrod. For all our sakes."

Part 17

Victoria closed the door to her room. Audra had gone to bed long ago. Jarrod was resting comfortably. As tired as she was, however, she knew she wouldn't rest well until all of her children were home, safe and sound.

She wearily turned back the bedcovers, and blew out the light. She sat on the edge of the bed, and had just lifted one foot to slide under the covers when she heard it.

The front door slammed shut.

"Mother! Mother!!"

Tears sprang to her eyes as she fumbled for her robe. Nick was home! She hurried out of her room. Audra was standing in her doorway, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, as Jarrod called out from his room.

"Audra, go tell Jarrod that Nick is home." She hurried to the banister, then turned back. "Tell him Heath is here too."

Victoria hurried down the stairs, where Nick had deposited Heath on the bottom step.

"Heath, honey, what happened?"

"Mother, it's a long story. Right now, he needs a hot bath, and we both need some food. Then we'll tell you all about it."

"I'll take care of the food, Miz Barkley." Silas said, eyes shining, as he looked on from the dining room.

Nick hung his head.

"Did I wake up everyone?"

"Never knew you to be worried about waking people up." Heath teased.

Victoria laughed.

"And, for once Nick, I will not tell you to lower your voice. Now, let's get this young man to the bathroom, then why don't you go in and see Jarrod."

"You're not going to help me, are you, ma'am?" Heath asked nervously.

"No, dear." Victoria tried, but she couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice. "I'll help you up there. After that, you're Nick's responsibility."

"Yes, ma'am."

It was nearly midnight when the house finally settled down for the night. As Nick lay in bed, waiting for sleep to overtake him, he reflected on the events of the past few days. Jarrod's eyes had been full of unasked questions, but Nick assured him they'd talk later. Nick knew he would have to explain his sudden change of heart to his older brother, but he also knew Jarrod would understand. After all, that's what brothers were for.

Part 18

The next afternoon, Nick helped Jarrod outside to the rose garden. The two men sat quietly, enjoying the fragrance, and reflecting on their earlier conversation.

"Well, Nick I must say I'm glad you finally came to your senses." Jarrod told him.

"Me, too. I'm just sorry it took so long. And, I know we'll still fight, sometimes. It's inevitable, we see too many things from a different perspective."

"But, the important things, Nick, home, family..."

"On those things, Jarrod, we're straight." Nick leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at his hands. "When I think, Jarrod, of what I put him through. And you know, other people must have said things, too. But he never complained.

All he wanted was the one thing I wouldn't give him."

"A place in your heart."

Nick nodded.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I don't think he's one to hold a grudge. By the way, where is Heath?"

"Mother made him stay in bed." Nick smiled. "And, this afternoon, she wanted to talk to him."

"Poor guy."

"Yeah, poor guy. Mother doesn't take 'no' for an answer, not when she really wants something." Nick looked at his brother, then back down at his hands. Jarrod knew there was more on his mind.

"Say it, Nick."

"I just wondered, Jarrod, are we okay?"

"We never had a problem, Nick." Jarrod assured him. He looked up as the door opened, and the subject of their conversation made his way slowly out onto the porch.

Heath crept over to a chair, sat down slowly, and sighed heavily.

"You okay?" Jarrod asked.

"I hurt everywhere. Oh, Mother said to tell you dinner would be ready in about an hour."

Nick glanced sideways at Jarrod, who raised one eyebrow questioningly, but said nothing. Heath caught the shared glance and blushed.

"Well, it seemed kind of silly to keep calling her 'ma'am'." Heath defended himself.

"And?" Nick prompted.

"And she threatened me." Heath admitted.

"With what?"

"Wooden spoon."

Jarrod and Nick burst into laughter.

"I take it you two know all about the wooden spoon?" Heath asked his brothers.

"Yes, we do." Jarrod admitted. "Although, I'm certain Nick is better acquainted with said spoon than I am."

"Yeah," Nick said. "And, for a little woman, Mother has a mean swing."

While his brothers shared a laugh at his expense, Nick went inside. He soon returned with three glasses, and the decanter of whiskey. Pouring three drinks, he handed one to each of his brothers.

"What shall we drink to?" Jarrod asked.

"Home, family." Nick suggested.

"Brothers, sisters, mothers?"

"How about Fred? Yesterday I came close to calling that man a beautiful sight."

"The thought frightens me, Nick." Jarrod said.

"You know what I mean!" Nick told him. "How about it, Heath?" He asked the silent man. "What shall we drink to?"

Heath stared into his drink for a moment, then looked at his brothers as he lifted his glass.

"How about we drink to just being together?"

"To being together." Jarrod and Nick answered as one, as they touched their glasses to his.

THE END