Continental Cowboy

Chapters 61-74

by Catgirl63

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.

Chapter 61

The small room grew quiet, both occupants left with their thought of the blond who lay back at the ranch recovering from the injuries received because of the investigation in his chosen profession. Both schools of thoughts were on the same trail even though neither had spoken a word of what was in their minds.

“If we push Heath, he’ll walk away and if we don’t push him, he may still walk away. If we force our mother to accept something she’s not ready to, she may fall back into the depression where its safer. On the other hand, if we don’t push she won’t be forced to at least try to face reality and may never take a chance to find a way to beat her depression once and for all.” Surmised Jarrod to himself before shaking his head at the boxed in feeling rising up inside.

Kate added dryly, “Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”

Jarrod’s eyes flashed for a moment before he nodded in agreement to the agent’s blunt observation, “In a nutshell, yes.”

“I’m sorry for the position you and your family find yourselves in, Mr. Barkley.” Replied Kate sincerely, understanding the torn feelings the Barkley siblings were going through for their mother and their recently acknowledged brother.

“Thank you, Miss Warne.” Accepted Jarrod with a small smile. “I’ve never been a person who looks back yet I wonder if we hadn’t pushed Heath away two years ago…what would have happened?”

“You shouldn’t punish yourself with such thoughts, Mr. Barkley.” Chastised Kate. “It may not have changed anything. Your mother was not well back then and could have still fallen prey to the depression. Heath might have simply waited to hear your family acknowledge his heritage and then left anyway.”

Frowning, Jarrod shook his head negatively, “No, I think he would have stayed if…if...we had been open to what he found out, I don’t think he would have left. I think the reason he came back was partly due to his having been around us for weeks during father’s murder investigation. I think he wanted to be part of us but we didn’t give him a chance at all.”

“Heath has not confided to me what he was seeking when he came back two years ago.” Said Kate her brown eyes staring into her coffee cup, concentrating on the dark liquid inside as she shifted through the pages in her memory. “Maybe he did want to be a part of your family or maybe he just wanted what he felt was rightfully his….whose to say except Heath and he has never said why. Those thoughts are private and his own.”

The forehead under the shock of black hair deepened as the darkness of Jarrod’s mind sent a frown across his face. “We can only hope Heath will give us a chance to ask him these questions and an opportunity to tell him how wrong we were.”

“I hope you all get a chance to resolve what’s between you, one way or another.” Agreed Kate, rising and walking to the stove to retrieve the coffee pot. Touching up the liquid in each of the cups on the table, she retook her seat looking across the table into the eyes awash with worry.

“There is one other factor that has yet to be resolved that threatens us all.” Suggested Jarrod.

“And that is?” prodded Kate after taking a sip of her coffee.

“The matter of the charges still pending against Heath.” Informed Jarrod. “If we don’t get them dismissed all of us could lose Heath to the gallows or a prison term at the least.”

“We have Jacks testimony.” Offered the female Pinkerton shaking her head in opposition. “He saved Heath from Daley Carson.”

“Even though Jacks can verify he saw Heath tied to a horse lead by the now deceased Daley Carson, it does not clear him of any charges. It only slightly foreshadows the question as to if he were a willing participant or not.”

“Jacks also stated after he said Turk sent him because it was too hot to leave town at the moment…Carson asked him what Turk wanted to do with Heath.” Countered Kate. “Carson’s question suggests he was taking orders from Turk. Jacks can testify to following Carson to the cabin. Then after being allowed entry into the shack, he saw Heath was tied up and beaten. I believe this does create doubt as to Heath’s willingness to take part in an escape and a murder.”

“Unfortunately, Miss Warne, it’s all hearsay from Jacks as to what Daley Carson said or didn’t say.” Pointed out Jarrod with a heavy sigh. “Not admissible in court without another party privy to what was said. And since Carson is dead, it won’t help Heath get the charges removed.”

“I think it creates a plausible doubt whether it’s admissible or not.” Replied Kate. “It makes no sense for Heath to kill a deputy to escape and then be found hog-tied like a calf. What reasoning could be found in that?”

Leaning forward, Jarrod sighed, “One could argue Heath was in with Carson and perhaps they had a falling out. A falling out amongst cohorts could explain Carson trying to keep Heath from going anywhere. It could be spun they were together in the planning of the gold heist. It could be thought perhaps Heath being an agent of the law had second thoughts about going through with the theft. Heath got cold feet and that’s why Carson had him on ice…to stop Heath from ruining his chance at the gold.”

“Yes, I suppose if someone wanted to argue that point…it could be seen as a possibility.” Admitted Kate in a hesitant voice.

“Miss Warne, did Heath know about the gold coming in by train?” queried Jarrod, his logical mind trying to pin down every point of contention which could be raised by those scrutinizing the facts surrounding the escape and murder. “If he knew the real gold was to come by train….it could be argued there would be no reason for him to keep his ‘partner or partners’ on the trail of the fake gold if he were a corrupt agent. Heath would need men to help take the gold from those guarding it.”

“Unfortunately, Heath didn’t know about the two separate shipments.” replied Kate reaching up to brush a stray hair from her face. “The wagons left the mine on schedule. Only myself and Paul Petrone knew the real gold would be leaving by train. The agents assigned to the real shipment didn’t know until the last possible moment….as it was loaded onto the train.”

Leaning his elbows on the table and locking his fingers together, Jarrod shook his head and took in a breath. Kate studied the eyes of the man across from her, swearing she could see his mind honing in on each side of the debate, sorting through each thread in the pile trying to find the golden one. His metamorphosis from anguished brother to distinguished prominent attorney was natural and uninhibited.

“The back door of the jail cell was open when Fred found his deputy and the keys were still on Michael’s belt. To Fred it seemed he unlocked the door from the inside and put the keys back on his belt. Now, why would the deputy take a prisoner out the back way when the courthouse is across the street and to the west?” questioned Jarrod as he looked into the puzzled brown eyes across the table.

“Yes, why would he?” asked Kate, the puzzled look turning into an intensity of needing to know the answer as she slowly sat forward in her chair. “That is a question which deserves an answer, Mr. Barkley.”

Chapter 62

Jarrod smiled and nodded his agreement to the female Pinkerton agent’s statement. He saw the brown eyes fill with a brooding thought and marveled at the way he could nearly see the trail her mind was taking.

“Do you think they are somehow connected?” asked Jarrod quietly then adding, “Turkelson and Deputy Hicks?”

Pursing her lips and nodding, Kate Warne sighed, “Helps everything make sense if they were connected….Turk needs to keep the law busy somehow, Heath’s in jail and if he were an escaped murderer….well….what better way to keep the local law busy. Of course, this is a long shot….but if Turk somehow found out Heath was undercover…what a golden opportunity we gave him…we pretty much just handed Heath over.”

The legal eagle didn’t miss the caustic edge to her words and he shook his head, “Lots of what ifs but nothing rock hard, Agent Warne.”

“It’s definitely a starting point for clearing Heath though.” Pointed out Kate. “Once Mickey gets back into town, Agent Fields can get started on the rest of the investigation.”

“Why?” demanded Jarrod, his voice raising in the small room. “Why wait?”

“Conflict of interest, Mr. Barkley.” Informed the brunette. “Standard company procedures.”

“We need to jump on this right away, Miss Warne.” Prodded Jarrod emphasizing his point by tapping the table beneath him with his index finger. “We can start by getting a background check on Michael Hicks. If you had a file on Turkelson, we could compare the two to see if they’d had anything in common.”

“I have a file on Turkelson, however, it is not for your eyes, Mr. Barkley.” Replied Kate firmly before taking a breath and leaning forward. “Heath is my friend and I want nothing more than for him to be cleared of all charges but I also know, he wouldn’t want it handled in such a manner that could leave a shadow hanging over him. If he’s not cleared through the proper measures, it will always follow him. He wouldn’t like that Mr. Barkley, trust me.”

Jarrod stared at her, realizing at this very moment he’d have to trust her for he had no foundation on which to base what his brother would like or not like. The internal admission caused his shoulders to slump slightly and his eyes to narrow with regret. Two years ago they should have been starting out as a family…two years of lost time….time he worried they’d never be allowed to make up for.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of the web of woe, Jarrod took a deep breath and caught the brown eyes watching him carefully. “I, for one, do not have to follow your company procedures. I can start any investigation I’d like in the interest of my family…lawyer’s prerogative.”

Tilting her head slightly, Kate carefully considered her words before speaking, “Even if perhaps your efforts or the end result won’t change anything for your family?”

“If it keeps Heath out of prison, there’s always a chance for us to be a family, Miss Warne.” Stated Jarrod. “I’d do it for any of my family and to show Heath how much I care…it’s the least I could do.”

The room fell silent and Kate found herself almost wishing her friend would want to stay here in Stockton after this was over….after the inquest into the deputy’s murder was done…the inquest.

“Jarrod, what about the inquest?” asked Kate. “There has to be an inquest into the deputy’s murder….what about your mother? What would this do to her?”

His mind registered her concern over the inquest and the first born son of Victoria Barkley frowned. A public inquest meant a public declaration of who exactly Heath Thomson, Pinkerton agent, really was. A public hearing and the truth would be laid bare before all of Stockton….a truth his mother was currently struggling with.

“Perhaps the district attorney after listening to the facts will forego an inquest.” Suggested Jarrod as his forehead furrowed in thought of the publicity hungry Phil Archer.

“A deputy of the town is murdered and an undercover Pinkerton agent is taken forcefully from the jail….a Pinkerton agent who happens to be another son of Tom Barkley…by another woman….” Recapped Kate letting her words hang in the air of the room.

“No, Phil will make sure the inquest takes place.” Said Jarrod bitterly.

“Perhaps if your mother doesn’t have to attend, it won’t be so…bad.” Inferred Kate.

“Whether she attends or not really doesn’t matter. Whatever we do til then could all be for nothing.” Admitted Jarrod rubbing his hand over his face. “Mother needs to find her strength to come to terms and Heath has more than enough strength and anger to walk away. The inquest may do her more harm…and Heath….if he realizes mother isn’t as welcoming or wants the same as the rest of us….”

“You won’t ever see him again.” Interjected Kate softly. “He would never want to cause her any pain…no matter how much pain she caused him…he’d walk without looking back.”

Chapter 63

Jarrod hadn’t realized how hearing the confirmation from the woman seating across from him of what he instinctively felt could be Heath’s reaction would cut so deep. His eyes filled with the pain that stretched across his chest and the stabbing agony clenching his stomach. To the man who’d stumbled around for days in a fog of loss after his father’s murder, he found himself experiencing a sense of loss on the same level for this brother they’d only recently acknowledged. Shaking his head in denial, his eyes closed and his mind struggled against the paralyzing agony to come up with a way to prevent that wretched feeling from becoming a reality.

Kate’s eyes widened at the stark agony in the lawyer’s eyes and spreading across his face. If she hadn’t known her words were the culprit, she’d have thought he was feeling the pain of being gut shot. Pushing back her chair, she rounded the square table and hesitated before placing her hand on one of his broad shoulders. Squeezing lightly she was surprised at how his wounded demeanor shot straight to her heart and woke up the dormant need inside her to lend her strength to another member of the opposite sex.

“There’s still time, Mr. Barkley.” Assured the brunette, unaware she moved her hand up to brush through the dark locks of soft hair on the head now held by his two hands. “I may be wrong, Jarrod. No one can foresee the future or read another’s mind…especially Heath’s…he often does the unexpected.”

“It’s all my fault.” countered Jarrod in a haggard voice. “I should’ve opened that file two years ago instead of ignoring what it held. Now….”

“Shhhh.” Murmured Kate softly. “You can’t turn back the clock but working together, I’m sure we’ll be too much for him.”

Chuckling softly, Jarrod unconsciously moved closer to the woman whose fingers were tingling the scalp on his head and sighed. Taking several deep breaths, he forced the rushing emotions back down and steadied the shaking in his body. Turning his head and looking up, he smiled appreciatively into the soft brown eyes and caught hold of the hand she withdrew.

Blue eyes pulled away from hers to examine the small hand he held in his larger one. The fingers were slender and yet, he could see the strength in them. The skin was soft and sported a few freckles from being in the sun. Looking up into the wide confused eyes of the woman beside him, he couldn’t stop himself from standing. She didn’t move back at his sudden rising and their bodies were separated only by mere inches. She swallowed and fought to fight the dryness in her mouth when the tips of his finger lightly grazed the bone in her cheek.

“Together, Kate?” queried Jarrod softly, blue eyes burning with an uncontrollable urge to sample the taste of her red lips. “If my brother leaves, does that mean you will too?”

The moment was mesmerizing, the deep soft voice wrapped itself around her heart and she stared back with eyes overwhelmed at the awakening emotions inside her. She knew he was waiting for her to respond and yet, she was powerless to reply, powerless to answer either verbally or nonverbally. Since her childhood sweetheart fell victim to the fever and left her a widow, she’d thrown herself into her work. Alan Pinkerton took a chance on her and the job he trusted her with allowed no other man into the deepest recess of her heart reserved for an all consuming passion and love.

“Kate!” called a voice from the front of the rented house, causing both of the two people occupying the kitchen to pull away reluctantly and separate to a proper distance.

The hurried footsteps from the owner of the voice rang on the wood flooring before he appeared in the entry to the kitchen. Mickey Flanagan’s enthusiasm cooled like a water dousing a spark of fire at the charged emotions floating on the air of the room. Stopping suddenly, he studied the two people in the kitchen and his eyes narrowed from the blush of heat on her cheeks.

“Mickey, you’re back.” Announced Kate needlessly before forcing her mind back from woman mode into Pinkerton mode. Moving across the space to near her fellow agent, her eyes flooded with anxiousness. “Did it work? Did they go for it?”

“Yeah, we got two live prisoners coming back.” Stated Mickey, looking over to the prominent lawyer with a look that let Jarrod know they’d be talking later. “Mr. Barkley, Billy caught a slug but he’ll be fine. Fred’s got him over to the doc’s now.”

“And Turkelson?” questioned Jarrod, casting a glance towards Kate. “Is he alive?”

“No.” admitted the agent bitterly. “It couldn’t be helped. As soon as I change horses, I’m gonna start looking.”

“For what?” asked Kate, her mind had moved ahead onto the problem of clearing Heath without the information contained in the gang leader’s now dead mind.

“For Heath!” snapped Mickey in confusion at her question. “We gotta find him.”

The regret on the faces of the two people in the room and he looked from one to the other. His stomach sank to his feet and he grabbed onto the door frame, thinking lady luck had finally run out on his friend.

“Agent Flanagan, Heath’s been found and is at the ranch.” Explained Jarrod quickly at the sick look spreading across the other man’s face. “He looks bad but doc says he’ll be fine.”

Slumping against the door frame, Mickey closed his eyes and smiled thankfully, sending a quick prayer upwards for the guardian angel who never stopped putting in overtime for his friend.

“Billy was right….” Chuckled the agent suddenly as he found the eyes of the lawyer across the room. “Heath’s orneriness could only mean he’s a Barkley.”

Chapter 64

He wasn’t sure what broke through the shadowy haze of his dreams and forced him to rise from their depths. It was the same each time when he woke and from somewhere deep in his mind, the idea came to prepare for the pain, however, it always came too late.

Groaning at the spasm of pain across his stomach and chest when he forgot his current limitations and tried to move, Heath felt a rough calloused hand against his cheek and knew without forcing himself to look who the owner of the hand was. It was the same hand when he’d woken each time, struggling against the cacophony in his head and the spiked metal band digging into the rest of his body. The two worked together to steal any attempts of ignoring the agony.

Forcing his lids to move, he blinked several times and realized the swelling had resided enough to allow him to open his right lid halfway. The cool cloth lain against the side of his face felt heavenly and combated the hotness of the damaged skin. Letting out a small sigh of pleasure that turned into a cough of torture, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to curl over onto his left side. His need to escape the bursts of hurt was hampered by his weak condition and inability to move.

Matt held onto his nephew’s shoulders when the coughing fit caused the blond’s face to screw up in agony. He steadied the blond and grabbed a pillow to put in front of Heath after he lifted him forward. The downy simple rectangular item cushioned the battered body of his nephew before his body’s natural reaction to dryness in his throat or a tickle stopped. Lightly running his hands over the strong back while being conscious of the bruising between Heath’s shoulder blades, he blinked back his own tears. Each groan and moan of pain from his nephew, each gasp at the uncontrollable ache ripped at his heart each time. He was torn between helplessness and anger.

Helpless to help the young man he loved like his own and angry he came to be in this condition. Angry that even as he sat here with Heath and took care of his every needs while he lay in the sick bed in the house of his father, there was a cloud of suspicion over his nephew. A cloud of charges looming in the horizon like the dark frightening clouds of a thunderstorm. No one knew if anything would come from the clouds of this storm and he again experienced an irrational thought to disregard the doctor’s orders. He wanted so much to take his nephew far from here and far from the ridiculous accusations against him.

Feeling Heath sag against him after the coughing was over, Matt delicately propped his nephew higher on the mound of pillows and reached over to pick up the glass of water on the side table. Holding the crystal, he smiled at the increase of moisture the blond was able to take in and nodded his approval before wiping away the beads of sweat on the battered face.

“Guess I can’t call you ole one eye any more, huh?” teased Matt softly at the sight of the half opened right eye.

Offering a slight smile in response to the jesting, Heath watched as his uncle needlessly straightened the sheet covering him up to the bandage wrapped around his middle before sitting.

“Miss Warne told me about the charges against you.” Informed Matt with a shake of his head before he turned his eyes blackened with anger to look outside at the night sky. “It’s not right, Heath. You give that damn agency everything and what do you get in return? Charges of escaping and murder on your head.”

Heath studied the side of his uncle’s face, the muscle pulsating in the man’s face from the clenching of his jaw. Those who weren’t allowed into the older man’s heart weren’t privy to the man kept deep inside. This man wasn’t perfect and had his share of faults. No matter who he’d been in the past he readily took on a kid struggling to survive each hellish day in a place the county called an acceptable orphanage. He stepped in and without second thought gave a home to a kid full of anger, hardness, flippancy….all mechanisms to hide his loneliness and need.

Matt shook his head again and took in a deep breath, forcing his anger over the situation down inside before turning to look back at his nephew. Dark eyes sparkled as they fell upon the blond whose steady gaze met his.

Reaching over and squeezing the left shoulder of his nephew, Matt asked, “I don’t suppose we’d get too far if I tried to escape here with you, huh? Between all the Barkleys and the Pinkertons around here, we’d be lucky to make it to the barn.”

Heath saw through the mockery of his uncle’s words. He could see the fear in his uncle’s eyes. Fear for him and fear for himself. Fear he’d lose him to his father’s family or back to the dangerous profession and his peers. Reaching up, Heath held onto his uncle’s arm and silently let him know he was in his heart.

“Yeah, I know, we can’t run.” Sighed Matt with a smile at the warmth filled pools of blue. “Guess I’m just a little overprotective, is all.”

“Alright, so I’m worse than a mother hen.” Admitted Matt at the arched eyebrow and twinkling blue eyes. “It’s never gonna change, boy.”

Patting his uncle’s forearm, Heath reclined his head back, the conversation sapping a good deal of the strength he’d regained during sleep. Matt smiled softly and asked, “Before you doze off again, you up to trying some of Mr. Whiting’s broth? He swears you’ll be out of bed in no time and back on your feet.”

Nodding slightly, Heath saw the pleasure in his uncle’s face before he moved from the bed. Looking down at his nephew, Matt stated he’d be back and crossed the room to the door, disappearing once he opened it. Heath closed his eyes and found himself again drifting off into a half awake, half asleep state. His subconscious heard the whisper of movement before his brain registered the knowledge of someone being in the room. Expecting to see his uncle returning with the magic potion of Silas’ broth, he couldn’t keep the wariness and surprise from his eyes at the silver haired petite woman standing beside the bed, her hands clenched tightly together.

Gray eyes locked onto blue eyes in the quiet of the late evening hours.

Chapter 65

The edge of the lamp’s glow touched her face, its features were drawn and weary. Her gray eyes met his, locking on and not letting go as if he were an enemy to be wary of and kept in sight as she moved a tentative step forward.

Heath watched and amongst the uncomfortable nearing of his father’s wife, his mind grasped at an elusive thought on its edges. His left hand nervously pulled at the sheet covering him, seeking to pull it higher as if to shield her from the evidence of brutality plain for all to see. His mind leaped over the elusive thought and he swore he could feel the stinging of her palm against his cheek just as if it had happened tonight instead of two years before.

The fiery denial in her eyes, the rigidness in her spine and the set of small shoulders thrown back with pride of the man she’d lost….the man she denied could ever betray her with another woman and she’d thrown his words back at him.

“My husband was a great man. Who do you think you are coming here trying to cast a shadow on him? He loved his family above everything and he gave his life to protect his friends in this community because that was the type of person he was. Never and I repeat, NEVER, would he have done such a thing. He would never forsake his vows and lay with another woman. Get out! Get off our ranch or else!”

That was it….the elusive nagging thought his mind had been trying to bring forth. Her eyes no longer held that fiery glaze, her shoulders were no longer thrown back with pride and indignation, the anger straightening her spine wasn’t there. All these were gone within this woman who stood in the same room.

With a shiver that tickled his own spine, the knowledge his final departing words had come true weaved through his mind as he recalled the belligerent oratory thrown back over his shoulder

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Barkley.” apologized the detective walking to the door before glancing back over his shoulder, eyes blazing at the furious family staring at him. “Whether you deny it or not, this is true. Right now you can’t see it but one day in the future you will. The past has a way of sneaking up on a person when you least expect it. Your husband may have been great to everyone else but to me, he’s nothing more than a low down coyote who left a woman to raise his bastard child alone.”

She hadn’t spoken a word, simply looked at him with eyes lacking the fire of pride and rightness. He had taken that from her by revealing what he’d found. He had stolen from her the memories of a man she loved and cherished. His appearance two years ago had stripped her heart of everything and he swallowed the guilt threatening to overwhelm his heart.

In his moment of weakness, a moment where he went searching for that which had seemed lacking all his life….that which he craved ever since he knew what was different with others…..he was responsible for the shell of the woman before him. He took it away from her because he wanted as an adult what he hadn’t had as a child… siblings, a heritage, a birthright. He took it away because he hadn’t been happy with what he had in his life…an uncle who loved him and good friends who were his family.

In searching out what should have rightfully been his from the time of his birth, he’d destroyed the other innocent victim caught in the circle created by his mother and Tom Barkley. He’d destroyed Victoria Barkley. Whether he consciously or unconsciously knew what could be the results of his return to the ranch two years ago didn’t matter….he and he alone had doused the spark inside of her.

He hadn’t stopped to consider fully the possible consequences, the possible ramifications. He only considered himself and what he wanted….never stopping to think of this woman who had no more control over his birth than he did.

With a slight start of his body that caused his face to grimace with pain, he realized she was suddenly beside him, moving closer as he struggled inside his head and soul with the knowledge of what he’d done. His left hand clenched the sheet in a white knuckled grip at the stabbing pain shooting through his body and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Her heart cried out at the signs of agony on his face when she’d startled him with her nearness and his body unconsciously jumped. Her feet had brought her into this room when she heard his moan of pain through the open door. She’d glided into the room as if an unseen force was leading her, moving her forward, beseeching her to see the man they’d cast aside two years before as if he were nothing less than the dirt on their boots. The man who was right and truthful, steady in the face of their explosive fury. The man who hadn’t asked to be born from consequences beyond his control, who hadn’t been asked to be born on the wrong side of the blanket.

After she entered the room, she could feel the demons inside of her wanting to take over and steal her back into a world of shadows. They sensed her weakness and she nearly faltered, nearly run back from the helpless injured blond shocked to see her after he woke from sleeping. She didn’t know where it came from but from somewhere she was handed the power to move as she kept locked with the expressive eyes amid the battered face. Light blue eyes, slightly darker than his father’s, unseeingly locked with hers. She could see his mind churning, searching for something and not aware of her feet moving her closer.

She waited til he waded out the raging pool of pain in his body and he sagged further into the pillows, the exhaustion clear in the deepening lines on his face from the silent struggle. She locked her fingers together, the urge to brush her fingers through his hair and sooth away his agony frighteningly powerful. She swallowed several times before finding her voice and seeking out the half-lidded pained eyes of the Pinkerton detective.

“My husband was not a perfect man….not like I wanted to remember him….like I built him up to be.” Stated the petite silver haired lady in a voice trembling with uncertainty as she searched for the words inside her. “We….I was wrong that night….I shouldn’t have…..”

“Heath, Silas says this will have you on your feet in no time….” Declared Matt Simmons, his words dying in his throat at the Barkley matriarch standing by his nephew’s bedside.

Chapter 66

Matt Simmons stood in the doorway, his dark eyes stunned at the woman he’d never met but knew was Victoria Barkley. The wife of his nephew’s absentee father and he felt his breath sucked away as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. His feet refused to move and he knew he was standing holding the silver tray like a fool.

In a flash, his mind compared Heath’s description of her of two years ago with the woman whose eyes spoke of her uncertainty and hesitation at this moment. This was not the same woman Heath described in his letters when he spoke of that night. That woman wore her pride for her murdered husband, the Barkley name and legacy on her shoulder like a chip daring someone to knock it off. The thought rose from the deepest recesses of his subconscious that his nephew had been the catalyst for the chip now being gone.

He knew many thought him cold and callous at times. While their categorization of him was not far off the mark, he’d never knowingly be less than respectful to a woman. Even with his innate fear of losing his nephew to the riches surrounding them as well as the family he’d never had as a child, Matt Simmons wouldn’t allow his fear to prejudice his gentlemanly manners.

Forcing his large frame to move from the open doorway, he nervously cleared his throat as he carried the tray to the nearest table opposite the bed from her. His hands shaking slightly as he set it on the round oak furniture. Turning, he took a quick glance to his nephew and saw him watching with trepidation before Matt fashioned a small smile to allay his nephew’s unease.

“I reckon you are Mrs. Victoria Barkley.” Stated Matt softly, reaching across the bed and holding out his hand. “Matt Simmons from Strawberry. I’m Heath’s uncle. His mama was my little sister.”

The soft deep voice moved her from the hesitation gripping her and Victoria stared at the large hand for a minute before reaching across the expanse. She was surprised at the gentleness of his shake almost as if she were a china doll before pulling her hand back to herself.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Simmons.” Offered the matriarch in a quiet voice, her gray eyes falling back to the injured man who lay between them. His eyes were now closed and she looked to the man standing immobile across the bed, her eyes flicking to the tray behind him.

“Heath and I both appreciate your taking him in while til he recovers and for helping the doc during his surgery.” said Matt gratefully. “It’s much obliged ma’am.”

“His bro…my sons thought he would be more comfortable here while he recovered, Mr. Simmons.” Acknowledged Victoria lapsing into silence with a thoughtful look to her eyes before adding, “I’m afraid I have interrupted Agent Thomson’s dinner and I’ll leave you two now.”

Matt walked to the door and held it for the small woman, “Mrs. Barkley, perhaps tomorrow you’ll find time to come in for a visit? We’d both appreciate your fine company.”

“Um…perhaps.” Hedged Victoria quietly before stepping into the hallway and turning to look back into the room. “Good night.”

“Night, Mrs. Barkley.”

Matt watched as she started down the hallway before closing the door softly behind her. Standing with his hand on the knob, he shook his head and wondered what the hell he had just done. He invited the enemy into his encampment…was it for a peace talk over his nephew or because of the protectiveness he felt welling inside for the small framed woman who looked to be scared of her own shadow.

Letting go a heavy sigh, the tall man crossed to the table and carried the tray closer to the bed. His brows were lowered while his mind pondered over the woman who’d just left. Sitting gently on the bed, he held the delicate china bowl in his hand and stared at it for a moment. It looked like he could break it if he closed his hands around it and squeezed but truth be told, he knew it was sturdier than it looked.

Looking up into his nephew’s eyes tired from a conversation he hadn’t even taken part in, Matt shook his head before lifting the spoon to Heath’s mouth. “We’ll go easy at first Heath….it may not set too good in your stomach.”

Barely a teaspoon of broth worked its way down his throat and yet, his stomach threatened to rebel from the object now foreign to its insides. Blue eyes closed for a minute until Heath was positive the small amount of liquid wouldn’t be rejected. Forcing his eyes back open, he studied the frown on his uncle’s face and knew if it didn’t hurt so much, his would also sport the same look over the leader of the Barkley family’s unexpected appearance.

Matt smiled apologetically to his nephew for wool gathering and slowly spooned up more broth, softly speaking to cover the brooding silence of the room. “She…Mrs. Barkley….makes me think of this bowl here, Heath. The outside looks all delicate and refined. Doesn’t look like it could stand much. Funny thing though….china like this cracks before it breaks. Even though it may have some cracks of age or years….it’s still held together and works mighty fine.”

Glancing to the blue pools, Matt saw he had his nephew’s full attention be it somewhat tired attention and nodded when the blond head moved slightly to state he was finished. Setting the half full bowl and spoon on the tray, Matt wiped a hand over his face and rubbed his right eye before continuing.

“I’m not sure what you’re thinking but I could guess, boy.” Suggested the former criminal glancing into his nephew’s guilty eyes. “Sometimes it takes people longer to bounce back from something…what doesn’t break them only makes them stronger, Heath. It’s not your fault, it’s not mine, it’s not hers…..god help us but the only people to blame for this are your father and your mama.”

Standing and pulling the sheet further up on his nephew, Matt leaned down and placed his calloused palm against Heath’s cheek before straightening and picking up the tray. Taking in a huge gulp of air, he locked onto his nephew’s eyes.

“Your mama was my baby sister but what Leah and Tom Barkley did in life shouldn’t have to haunt you or Mrs. Barkley now. For a long time I always regretted not being there to stop it. Part of me always will feel guilty but I also know if I had been there….I wouldn’t have you, Heath. You’d have never been born and even though you were a pain in the ass as a kid….you’re a man anyone would be proud to call son.”

Chapter 67

Had it only been twenty four hours since he fled his injured brother’s room unable to break the promise he’d given the blond after they located him on the ridge? Sighing to himself, Nick shook his head and tightened the cinch on Coco’s saddle. He couldn’t stay in that house one more minute without fear of busting into the younger man’s sick room and pleading for the chance they’d thrown away.

He knew while riding would be uncomfortable with the stitching still in his back it somehow paled in comparison with the despair slouching his frame each time he’d pass the closed door in the hallway. Often he could hear the murmuring of the deep voice of Matt Simmons through the closed panel but was unable to distinguish the words. Just thinking of the man who was here to take Heath away sunk his stomach to his feet. How could they compete with a man who’d known Heath longer and who hadn’t cast him to the side like a well used coil of rope?

Lowering the stirrup he’d hung from the saddlehorn, Nick stood beside his brown colored mount and rubbed his hand down the equine’s long nose. He silently wondered if Heath would grant them a chance for a hearing before he left, before he walked away. Closing his eyes he could see the scene in the livery as if it just happened instead of nearly two weeks ago.

“What do you want from us?” demanded the larger man in a low voice.

“I only want you to pretend you don’t know me should we meet again this coming week. Act like strangers instead of…family.” suggested the smaller man with a flash of taunting in his blue eyes. “Surely that shouldn’t be too difficult for the almighty and all-knowing Barkleys.”

“Listen to me you sonofa..” threatened Nick moving to shorten the distance between them, stopping at the rifle which was suddenly aimed at his stomach.

Shaking his head, Heath chastised the movement with a small smile, “Now, now, remember you gave your word, Mr. Barkley.”

“You just stay away from us and keep your lies to yourself or else.” ground out Nick between his clenched jaws, the fury in the larger man trembling his body and burned his eyes.

“It’s not very smart to threaten the man trying to keep your precious gold shipment safe, Mr. Barkley. Don’t worry, I have no desire to be known as a son of Tom Barkley or associated with any members of his brood the old stud left behind.” hissed the Pinkerton agent before taking a quick breath to soothe the eruption of his temper. “Good day.”

Opening his lids and narrowing his eyes in thought, Nick realized he really had no idea if Heath’s words were true or not…did he have no desire to associate with anyone from his father’s family? Was that the gospel truth now or had it only been reactive words during that heated altercation?

Rightfully, he had to admit he couldn’t blame the younger man if he wanted to brush off the family’s wanting another chance with him after two years ago. Funny, thought the dark haired man silently, if Heath hadn’t come back to Stockton they would still have gone on as they had in the past. The file more than likely would have still lain covered with dust in the bottom of Jarrod’s desk drawer.

Scowling to himself, he chastised his quick thought which asked if perhaps it wouldn’t have been better if the blond had not resurfaced in their lives. Shaking his head in denial, Nick knew it wouldn’t have been better for their lives these past two years had been anything but good. Their mother was finally being forced to attempt to find the strength and inner self confidence she’d lost.

Leading Coco out of the barn, Nick smiled to himself. Heath Thomson was his brother and part of their family for the rest of their lives, through the good and the bad of the future. Ironically, in a way, they owed Turk a debt of gratitude. For without the criminal’s lust for quick riches, fate may not have brought the blond back into their lives and forced the truth to come out.

Tying Coco to the rail of the corral, Nick turned at a sound and watched Jarrod driving his surrey into the yard. Patting his favorite mount, he waved to Duke who was exiting the bunkhouse before crossing towards the house where Jarrod pulled up and climbed out.

“Nick, you’re not thinking of working today are you?” questioned Jarrod nodding at Ciego who took the horse and surrey from his boss.

“Course I am.” Countered Nick with a scowl. “The ranch isn’t gonna work itself. Sides, I can’t be penned up in the house anymore. It’s stretching my nerves.”

“Remember Doc won’t be happy when he hears. You’re supposed to take it easy another day of so.” Stated Jarrod with a sympathetic smile for the bundle of energy before him. Squeezing Nick’s brother’s broad shoulder, he said as he moved away, “I thought maybe you’d stick around, Nick. I got some news for Heath and thought you’d like to hear it too.”

“News?” repeated Nick anxiously to his brother’s back as he entered the house, rushing to catch up to his big brother. “What news? Did they catch them? How’s Billy? HEY!”

Chapter 68

Ignoring the younger man who was demanding to know what news he possessed, Jarrod didn’t break stride and found his way to the kitchen. Pouring a cup of coffee from the pot brewing on the stove, he let out a tired sigh after sitting at the table.

Nick scowled and pulled out a chair while his big brother poured a cup of coffee, his feet tapping impatiently under the table as Jarrod sat. The exhaustive sigh reached his ears and he took a moment to study the face of the man sitting beside him, sipping carefully of the hot coffee. His impatience died instantly at the shadows of weary in his brother’s eyes and the haggard lines of his face, his concern edged upwards as he leaned forward on his forearms.

“I’m just tired, Nick.” Offered Jarrod at the worry in the hazel eyes of his brother. “It was a long night.”

“It’s been a couple weeks of long nights, Pappy.” Replied Nick drily.

Putting his cup down and wiping his hands over his face, Jarrod smiled in agreement before reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Well, let me finish my coffee and then we’ll go see our little brother, okay?”

Nick sat back in his chair and shook his head, “It’s strange how natural it feels now to call Heath our little brother, Jarrod. I would give anything to have him stay here…with us…be part of the family.”

“I know, Nick.” Agreed Jarrod, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared into the dark steaming liquid. “I want it too more than anything. Every night, I kick myself for not opening that damn file sooner. If I had we wouldn’t have lost two years with him as our brother.”

“Hell Jarrod….we spent a month…every day with him while they were investigating and we all knew the type of man he was.” Countered Nick with a scowl. “We shouldn’t have needed to open the file to know he wouldn’t have lied to us….he never gave us reason to think he was capable of anything underhanded. I can’t tell you how many times I found myself looking for him in those days just to hear him say everything would be alright. He made me believe we’d get justice for father’s murder and heck, I think he kept us all going when the waiting became unbearable.”

“Heath was the only glimmer of light during that time. I felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame and at the time, I thought it was simply because I was craving justice for father. Now, I realize it was because somehow our souls knew we were brothers. Unfortunately our recent revelations may be a little too late, Nick.” admitted Jarrod, his eyes filled with sadness before he pushed his coffee cup back then looked over to the anguished hazel eyes. “Let’s see if Heath’s awake and then check on Mother.”

“I think she’s sleeping in.” stated Nick quietly as they walked to the back stairs. “I heard her moving around real late last night in her room. I knocked on her door but she said she was fine and for me to go back to sleep.”

“How did she sound?” queried Jarrod leading the way up the stairs.

“Like she’d been crying.” Informed Nick to his brother’s back as they climbed to the second floor, looking to see why Jarrod stopped on the stairs.

“Silas, let me help you with that.” Said Jarrod reaching out to help with the small trunk held firm with the slender ebony fingers.

“I’s fine, Mr. Jar’d.” said Silas from the last step leading up to the attic.

Jarrod moved to the wall on the landing, allowing the older man to continue on. Nick was able to see after Jarrod moved and he asked, “What’s that for, Silas?”

“Tis for Mrs. Barkley….she’d be needin’ it in her room.” Answered Silas, stopping to look at both of the matriarch’s sons and lowered his voice. “Ya’s mama’s packin’ some of Mr. Tom’s b’longings in here. Tis hard but tis good…v’ry good.”

“Yes, it is, Silas, yes it is.” Replied Jarrod, his heart leaping in his chest at the implications of the older man’s words before Silas continued down the hallway.

Reclining against the wall for a moment and digesting Silas’ information, Nick met his brother’s eyes, “A step in the right direction, Pappy. A small one but a good one.”

Nodding once, Jarrod found his tired legs had been revived with the hope rising up inside him and he effortlessly walked to the guest room. Knocking softly, he heard the sound of someone moving within and waited beside Nick for the door to open.

Matt Simmons set the broth to the side and patted his nephew’s leg before he stifled a yawn. Crossing the room, he opened the door to find the two waiting brothers on the other side.

“Mr. Simmons, I have some news for Heath.” Informed Jarrod, his eyes moving to try to look inside the room.

“Come in. Heath’s awake.” Said Matt stepping back to allow the two men entry before closing the door behind them. He watched Heath’s blue eyes move from one to the other before he spoke. “Ah…take a seat.”

Nodding to the older man’s invitation, Nick sat on the end of the bed while Jarrod took the chair which was beside the bed. Matt stood on the opposite side of the bed, leaning up against the wall. Jarrod smiled into the questioning blue eyes of the blond, taking a moment to study the still painful evidence of what he’d suffered through before beginning.

“They stopped Turk and his men, Heath….all but two of them are dead.”

Opening his mouth to speak the questions stampeding in his mind, Heath squeezed his eyes shut at the spasm of pain in his jaw. He heard his uncle admonishing him for his attempt at speaking and a strong hand clasped onto his shoulder. It took a minute for the shooting agony to lower to a dull throb before he could force his eyes back open.

Nick had risen from the bed in concern at the grimace of pain and the furrowed forehead of the blond. His hand had gently clamped onto the lower leg of Heath and he didn’t release his hold til the blond’s eyes slowly opened. He retook his seat and loosen his grip but didn’t move his hand away.

“Don’t try that again, Heath.” Chastised Jarrod with a smile, relieved at the small upturn in the corner of his brother’s mouth before glancing up to Matt Simmons hovering on the other side of the bed.

“The leader, Turk?” queried Matt anxiously.

“Dead.” Stated Jarrod as he met his little brother’s eyes. “Last night, Ka…Agent Warne and I were going over everything that happened at the jail the morning you were taken. We were talking throught it….trying to find some evidence that you didn’t kill the deputy in an escape attempt. Well, it struck us both as strange the deputy would have unlocked the back door. We figured he had to have opened it because the keys were back on his belt. Fred mentioned there was only one set of keys and whoever was on duty in the jail, kept them on his person.”

Jarrod paused and waited as the injured man assimilated the information. Receiving a slight nod, he continued. “Agent Flanagan, Fred and Billy came back to Stockton last night…they’re all fine…well, Billy does have a shoulder wound but he’ll be fine.”

Nick let out a relieved sigh at the end of the bed, grateful the man who’d stolen his sister’s heart was safe and sound.

“When the two members of the gang get here, they’re gonna be questioned fully. We are fairly certain there is some type of connection between Michael Hicks and Turkelson….now we only have to find it.”

The knowledge Turk was dead and would no longer be able to lead his gang of rubble was bittersweet. The agent in him knew his word wouldn’t be enough to vindicate himself from the charges. With Turk and Michael Hicks dead, he was the only one left to know what had happened in the jail. Only evidence could clear him fully and he nodded slightly to the two men watching him closely.

“We will find the link, brother Heath.” Promised Jarrod after he leaned closer to the blond. “You found us justice two years ago and I won’t stop til you’re cleared.”

Chapter 69

“Well, what do you think, Kate?” queried Mickey Flanagan after pulling the door behind him closed.

The female Pinkerton agent frowned before replying, “The depths some in our society will sink to never ceases to amaze me…if it’s true and if we can prove it…that is.”

Following after his peer, the Irish man’s face blackened with a scowl, “We’d best find someway. Or I might just forget I’m a Pinkerton.”

Smiling slightly at the emotional promises in her fellow agent’s words, Kate patted the broad shoulder of the brown haired man. With the interrogation of the two prisoners complete under the watchful eyes of the sheriff and the district attorney, they were left with only a slip of the tongue of Jediah Turkelson at a moment of unguardedness. Only a momentary slip when he referred to the now deceased deputy, Michael Hicks, as his cousin. A blunder the man wasn’t aware one of his gang had overheard and filed away in the back of his mind.

The two followers hadn’t been so cooperative until Mickey suggested they’d be tried for the murder of a law agent. Neither of the prisoners were aware Heath Thomson was alive and recovering…however, none of those in the jail rebutted the brown haired agent’s suggestion. The consequence of facing a noose instead of a term in prison for attempted robbery far outweighed and loosened the tight lips.

Now all they had to was wait…wait for the painstaking search into the life and marriage or marriages of Turkelson’s father in hopes of locating the link he had to the deputy named Michael Hicks. With a simple telegram, the search would be started and official records or newspapers would be thoroughly searched in a place far from the state they were currently in.

Stepping onto the boardwalk and wincing at the brightness of the day a harsh contrast to the lowered light in the jail, Kate turned left and stopped at Mickey’s hand on her arm. “Where you going?”

“To update Heath. I promised to keep him aware of everything going on.” Explained Kate. “You coming?”

“Heck, yes!” exclaimed Mickey firmly before rubbing his hands in anticipation. “When he’s down and out like this is the best time to play poker with him.”

Chuckling, Kate shook her head and led the way down the boardwalk to the livery. “Remember, the last time you had that idea….you had to hand over your next two paychecks up to Heath.”

“That’s cause we were both injured.” Explained Mickey with disgust. “ He took advantage….I wasn’t thinking straight with that concussion and all.”

“Are you sure it was just a one-time concussion?” teased Kate, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

“Very funny.” Retorted the brown haired man as they walked into the livery.

Their chiding of each other stopping while they leased a buggy from the owner. Helping Kate up onto the seat, Mickey climbed in and took over the reins. Starting the horses down the street, he glanced sideways at his friend.

“So….what about you and the lawyer Barkley?”

“What about what?” asked Kate, not giving any indication of readily answering his open ended question.

Mickey slapped the reins to bring the team to move them faster once they’d passed the last building in the town before shrugging, “I kinda got the feeling I busted in on something the other night….you two seemed mighty focused on each other.”

“This is work, Mickey.” Reminded Kate firmly. “I have a job to do and it takes first place in my world.”

“Ah…but what about your heart?” questioned Mickey. “You’re man’s been gone a long time, Kate. Barkley’s the only other man I’ve ever seen you take any notice of.”

Arching an eyebrow, Kate turned her head and stared at her friend’s profile, before retorting, “I wasn’t aware it was part of your responsibility to keep track of who I have in my life and who I don’t.”

“Now don’t get your bloomers in a twist!” countered the agent meeting her eyes that seemed to waiver between indignation and anger. “I just was making conversation is all….you know Heath and I worry about you like our sister! WE only want what’s best for you is all.”

The sincerity in his voice diffused her irritation at his friend’s line of questioning and she sighed before turning her eyes back to watching the road between the horse’s ears, “What I want or think I want doesn’t matter, Mickey. It’s all predisposed to what happens with Heath and then what he decides to do.”

“Kate, what are you talking about?” scowled Mickey puzzled at her answer. “What’s Heath got to do with it? This is between you and Jarrod Barkley.”

Shaking her head, the slender woman brushed back a stray piece of hair from her forehead before answering. “If Heath stays in Stockton, he doesn’t need me around to remind him he could always come back to the agency should he find its difficult to fit in with his new family circumstances. Also within the community itself….I don’t think the family is strong enough to withstand the scandal.”

Taking in a breath and letting it out slowly, Kate felt a the rough hand reached over and squeeze her left in support.

“If Heath decides to stay with the agency or go with his uncle, the last thing the Barkley family would want is a constant reminder of the brother they lost because they didn’t take the time to listen or find out if what he said was true….the guilt alone will tear them apart.”

Placing her right hand on Mickey’s, she forced a smile to her lips and shrugged, “In the end some of us are gonna lose and either way, I can’t see myself in the future here in any capacity.”

“It doesn’t have to be so cut and dry, Kate.” Informed Mickey watching the profile of his friend after she looked away. “You don’t know what’s going to happen and neither do I….hell…I bet Heath doesn’t even know what he’s gonna do yet.”

“He’ll pick the choice that feels right to him inside.” Said Kate. “I’m just afraid he’ll make a choice because he doesn’t want to choose between the Barkleys and his uncle.”

Taking in a deep breath, Mickey’s own knowledge of the man they were driving out to see confirmed his friend’s fear…the blond would not make a choice than to choose one over the other.

“It’d be a cowardly way.” Muttered the brown haired man as they drove under the gate signifying the Barkley ranch.

“No…it’s self preservation, Mickey.” Corrected Kate. “It’s how Heath’s always lived….forced to make decisions and weigh all the parties involved. He wouldn’t want to hurt either by thinking they meant less to him so….”

“He’d cut off his arm to spite his foot.” Hissed Mickey angrily. “Someone has to talk to him…get him to see it doesn’t have to be that way! He could have both his uncle and his father’s family….he could be overrun by family if he wanted to be!”

“When Heath was first brought to the ranch….I didn’t want him to stay in Stockton and now, I pray that he does.” Admitted Kate as the buildings of the ranch came into view. “He needs them, Mickey, whether he knows it or not. They’d be good for him.”

Directing the horses through the gate and up to the mansion, Mickey pulled them to a halt and wrapped the reins around the brake before turning to state, “Billy says he’s as ornery and stubborn as his brothers, Kate. We got our work cut out for us.”

Chapter 70

Opening the slightly ajar door to her mother’s room, Audra stood silently watching as Silas carefully folded one of her father’s shirts before delicately placing it in the wooden trunk. The small dark fingers touched the material as if it were as delicate as a butterfly’s wing. Her mother sat on the bed, her back to the door and her silver head bowed as her hand lightly caressed what she held on her lap. The blonde girl caught their old caretaker’s eye over the top of her lowered head and saw the almost imperceptible movement of his head moving from side to side. Nodding, Audra stealthily backed out of the doorway and reached to pull her mother’s door shut listening to Silas’ soft voice as he started to speak.

“I’s remem’r tat one, Missus Barkley. I’s sure do.”

“It was one of his favorite’s. Tom would have worn it to church if I didn’t put my foot down.” sighed Victoria with a small smile, her fingers lovingly touching the tan leather vest before looking up into the watchful concerned eyes of her old friend. Her tears streamed down her cheeks and she raised a shaky hand to brush away the droplets, grateful for the support of Silas and his unending patience as she talked through her memories of the times spent with the man she loved.

Audra closed the door with the barest of sound and leaned against the doorframe, her eyes full of sadness for the painful step her mother needed to endure.

“Penny for your thoughts?” asked Nick quietly, keeping his voice low having witnessed his sister’s quiet departure from their mother’s room.

Smiling and shaking her head, Audra laced her arm through her brothers and directed him towards the stairs. “I can’t imagine what mother’s going through right now....how difficult it must be.”

Looking down at the girl beside him who seemed to have grown up overnight, Nick patted her hand and nodded, “It’s for the best, Audra. You’ll see.”

“I know.” Agreed the blonde as she descended the stairs with her brother and entered the parlor.

Jackson Martin looked up at the siblings who entered the parlor from his place on a chair. His broken limb was resting on a pillow atop the coffee table and he smiled a welcome to the pair. “Miss Audra…Nick.”

“You made it downstairs, Mr. Martin!” exclaimed Audra, happy to see a return to the man’s mobility and ability to move out of the room he’d been stuck in.

“Well, Nick helped some.” Admitted the bald headed man.

“Not that much, Jacks.” Corrected Nick as Audra picked up the empty cup next to him and offered to get the rodeo man a refill.

“No thank you, Miss Audra.” Smiled the small man before winking. “Any more drinks or food and my leg won’t support my weight when I get back on my feet.”

Laughing, Audra nodded and excused herself to leave the two men alone. Lowering his large body onto the settee, Nick motioned to the paper the man had been reading.

“Anything interesting?”

Shaking his head, Jacks said, “No, I was hoping maybe there’d be an article about any upcoming rodeos but I don’t see anything.”

“You can’t compete right now with a broken leg anyway, Jacks.” Pointed out Nick.

“I know Nick.” Sighed Jacks, lifting his shoulder into a shrug. “I can’t ride but I could help out with the organizing and other stuff. I can’t stay here til my leg heals.”

“Why not? We got plenty of room and besides, the Pinkertons may want you to stay here and testify. You know as to how you found Heath tied up and beaten in that shack.”

“They took my signed and sworn statement, Nick. I have to get back to work or I’ll forget what it’s like.” Countered Jackson Martin with a quirky smile.

Waving off the other man’s desire to leave, Nick leaned forward and stated, “Me and the family are very grateful to you for getting Heath out of there, Jacks. Why don’t you stay and work here on the ranch? We could always use a good man.”

Surprised at the offer, Jacks frowned, “Riding the rodeo circuit is all I know, Nick. I’ve been doing it since I left home as a boy. I don’t know how to do anything else or anything about ranching.”

Scoffing, Nick shook his head, “You can ride a horse and rope, can’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s all you need to know….Duke and the boys can teach you the rest. You won’t have to worry about entry fees and Stockton holds a rodeo every year. It’s a competition between all the ranches and their men.” Grinned Nick, his chest filling with pride. “Our ranch has taken first place three years in a row.”

“It’s mighty kind of you….”

Standing and turning to leave, Nick offered over his shoulder, “Just think about it Jacks and if you stay, I’ll have Duke set you up in the bunkhouse. Let me know.”

Leaving the injured rodeo rider to mull over his offer, Nick crossed the foyer and opened the front door just as the two visitors to the ranch stepped onto the front step.

“Agent Warne, anything new?” asked Nick after his initial surprise at the two on the doorstep dwindled.

Nodding once to the hazel eyed man, Kate turned to Mickey and introduced the two men. “Mickey Flanagan, this is Nick Barkley…another of Heath’s brothers.”

Shaking hands with the large muscular man, Mickey smiled, “Mr. Barkley, Billy Mayfield told me about you.”

Arching an eyebrow, Nick pursed his lips and crossed his arms over his chest, “He did, huh? Do I want to know what he said?”

Chuckling, Mickey’s brown eyes danced with amusement before he grinned, “Probably not.”

Grinning, Nick nodded in agreement and stepped back to allow entry to the two agents. “And how is my soon to be brother-in-law?”

“He’s fine, Mr. Barkley.” Assured Kate. “I believe he said something about coming out here later this afternoon.”

“Good.” Sighed Nick. “It’ll put our minds at ease when we see him…especially Audra’s.”

“He’s a good man, Mr. Barkley. I think he’d make a fine Pinkerton.” Informed Mickey, proud of the young man and how he’d handled himself during the tough assignment and on the ride back to Stockton.

Kate watched the rancher’s face turn into a frown at Mickey’s words and could almost hear the discontent rising in his mind at the suggestion of the deputy becoming a Pinkerton. Clearing her throat, she smiled into the hazel eyes that turned towards her.

“I was hoping to have a few minutes to talk with your brother, Mr. Barkley while Mickey went up to see Heath. Is Jarrod here?”

“Yeah…yeah, he’s in the study. It’s this way.” Said Nick, still unsettled over the agent’s suggestion of Billy making a fine Pinkerton.

“I know the way, thank you.” Smiled Kate walking towards the study.

Looking at the brown haired agent left with him in the foyer, Nick could sense the anxiousness rolling off the man before he motioned with his head and turned to the stairs. “Heath’s upstairs.”

Chapter 71

Stopping before the open door to the study, Kate took in a breath to calm her pulsating heart before taking the step to enter the room. As before when she’d entered this room, the young woman found the rich wood tones of the interior exuded a comforting and thought provoking environment. Her eyes readily found the man she was seeking and she took a moment to capture the picture in her heart.

He was sitting back in the leather chair behind his desk. His sleeves were rolled up on his forearms, his elbows rested on the arms of the chair. His index fingers met together to form a steeple similar to the poem of a child and lightly tapped against his chin. His eyes stared forward and upward, his gaze clearly on the oil painting of his father over the mantle. He appeared lost in the abyss of his mind and she was intrigued as to what he hoped to gain from the intense scrutiny of the portrait.

“Jarrod?” said Kate quietly, reluctantly drawing him from his thoughts.

Shaken from his thoughts, Jarrod turned at the soft voice and smiled as he pushed back the chair and stood as she crossed towards the desk, “Kate, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in.”

“No, I apologize for interrupting.” Countered Kate sitting in the chair he indicated after meeting her halfway across the room. “You seemed deep in thought.”

Waiting til the female agent sat in the high backed chair, Jarrod nodded and sat in the chair nearest her before sighing. “Lately I seem to get easily lost in my thoughts. Too much thinking and not enough acting, I’m afraid.”

“Now, most philosophers would disagree and say too much thinking is not a bad thing. After all, great minds have brought society this far.” Stated Kate.

“Yes, I can imagine that would be exactly what the philosophers would say.” Admitted Jarrod with a small chuckle before directing the conversation to the situation foremost in his mind. “Have you found out anything from the remaining two gang members?”

Nodding, Kate met the light blue eyes of the attorney, “We’ve started to look into it but it appears Turkelson was related to Michael Hicks somehow. They appear to have been family, however, we won’t know more until the report comes back on Turkelson’s father. We do know he was married several times but there was no reason to look into his marriages further before.”

The surprise at hearing the news stunned Jarrod and it took a moment for it to process before he stood up and paced to the fireplace then back. “That would explain why the deputy would open the back door. Perhaps to allow Turkelson into the jail.”

“It doesn’t clear Heath yet but it does raise more possible consequences of what happened that day.” Said Kate before adding. “Once Heath’s able to talk, I’ll have Agent Fields take his statement for the record.”

“It’s a start.” Sighed Jarrod before frowning. “Still, I can’t see why Turkelson would kill Michael if they were related.”

“Five years ago, Turkelson was suspected of killing his uncle on his claim up on the Klamath.” Informed Kate not surprised at the blue eyes filling with anger. “He was only suspected, Jarrod. No evidence could be found to solidly link him to the murder.”

“The Pinkertons knew about this and still your agency wouldn’t give Heath the benefit of doubt that he didn’t kill Deputy Hicks!” snapped Jarrod. “You were ready to hang him out to dry if he couldn’t prove otherwise. He was guilty until proven innocent! He’s one of your own men!”

Meeting the anger in the prominent attorney with patience, Kate felt a tug on her heart when his hand reached up and raked through his dark hair. Taking a deep breath, she let it out and forced herself to concentrate on the conversation instead of the man.

“I am well aware of how it may appear.” Admitted Kate calmly. “We have rules as all agencies do. Rules which must be followed to prevent any suggestions of impropriety. Rules which may seem harsh but are nonetheless necessary. As an attorney, I am sure you are aware of some laws which seemed ridiculous or senseless. Without rules and laws, we would be left with chaos and disorder.”

Jarrod nodded in agreement before sitting back in the chair and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry for snapping, Kate.”

“It’s okay, Jarrod.” Assured Kate. “None of us will rest easy until this is completely settled and Heath is free of all suspicion.”

Smiling slightly, the first born Barkley son nodded and let out a large sigh. Meeting the brown eyes of the woman across from him, he waited a moment before restating his question from two nights before, “If Heath leaves Kate, will you be going also?”

Jarrod read the reluctance in her eyes and his ears heard her answer after a span of hesitation, “Yes, I’ll be leaving also.”

“Why, Kate?” asked Jarrod softly. “Your eyes aren’t saying the same as your words. Why would you leave when…we…haven’t had a chance to see if this…these…feelings between us are real? Can you tell me you don’t feel them like I do?”

The earnest soft tone worked its way deep into her heart and Kate found she was unable to reply. Unable to explain what her mind wanted to relay opposite of what her heart was telling her.

“Kate.” said Jarrod, appearing suddenly above her and offering his hand.

Hesitating, she slowly raised her right hand to his and he raised her up onto her shaky legs. His hands holding onto her arms and his cologne filling her senses. She couldn’t help the tremor that ran through her at his nearness and she wanted to speak, only to find the words wouldn’t come out as he bent his head towards her.

Lightly brushing his lips over hers, Jarrod pulled back and gazed into the brown eyes swimming with emotions. “Follow your heart, Kate Warne. It’ll be true to you.”

Chapter 72

It took all her physical strength to lock her knees, preventing her body from swooning at the feather light touch of his lips. With extreme difficulty, she was able to pull away from the trancelike state his light blue eyes kept her in. She was a woman who was no stranger to the art of manipulation, subtle looks promising more than she’d give to those she was after.

Being in control and using her wiles after all was her job as a Pinkerton agent and never once had she ever felt like this…never had a man had such an effect on her senses. Standing near him, she found she her heart thumping with wild abandonment. It would be so easy to give in to its deep yearning but she forced herself to take a calming quick breath and easily stepped out of his hold.

“Excuse me, I must see how Heath is. He’ll be anxious to know what’s going on with the investigation.” Stated Kate in a low hushed tone, ashamed inwardly of using her injured friend as a reason to escape the tempting persona of Jarrod Barkley.

Jarrod slowly let his hands fall and let out a sigh, his eyes easily seeing the resolve in her face to not acknowledge the spine tingling sensation when they were near. Briefly he experienced the same helplessness over her efforts of sidestepping the issue that he’d been feeling over the desire to enrich their family’s live with knowing their blond little brother. It was frustrating and disheartening to realize there was perhaps a chance neither Pinkerton agent would allow themselves to take a chance and be free of the dangerous careers for the potential of something grander.

“Kate, please at least promise you won’t leave til we’ve had a chance to talk.” Beseeched Jarrod in a low voice, watching as her eyes closed for a moment before she silently nodded.

“Alright, however, it won’t change anything.” Informed Kate after losing the internal battle to deny his wish and realizing her heart had no qualms over putting herself in a precarious position. “I’ll still be leaving and heading back to Chicago.”

“I will hope your departure won’t be for a very long time, Kate Warne.” Offered Jarrod to her departing back, his husky voice sending goose bumps up her arms and making her hesitate for a moment in the doorway before leaving the room.

Allowing his shoulders to slump and the weight of dejection to settle on them, he retook his seat at the desk. Leaning his elbows on the wood top, he rubbed his hands over his face before running them through his hair. Reclining in the chair with his head against the back, his blue eyes again found the portrait of his father over the mantle.

“It seems we all must pay for your sins, father. I wonder if you realize or even care how much torment you’re causing everyone.” Whispered Jarrod, his voice harsh and angered. “Heath should have been with us and not growing up alone.”

“Yes, he should have been.” Agreed Victoria startling her oldest son with her soft voice and the small hand that found his right shoulder.

“Mother, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were in the room.” Apologized Jarrod reaching up and pulling her hand from his shoulder. Holding onto the small wrinkled hand, he suddenly heard her words again in his mind and cautiously looked up into the red rimmed gray eyes. “How are you, Mother?”

Shrugging slightly, the tiny matriarch had found the duty of putting her husband’s reminders difficult and yet, also freeing. Her old friend Howard was right. Tom would always be inside her heart and inside her children….including Heath…his third son.

“I feel….retooled.” stated Victoria chuckling slightly at the puzzlement in her son’s eyes. “Much like a broken bridle which has been mended. It was broken temporarily but careful repairing has made it stronger.”

Standing and pulling his mother into his strong arms, Jarrod placed a kiss on her silver hair. His eyes closed in thankfulness and relief before he released her.

“I don’t believe, dear lady, I would have ever thought of comparing you with an old bridle.” Admitted Jarrod with a tender smile, hope and love shining in his blue eyes as he gazed down at his mother.

“I didn’t say old, Jarrod.” Corrected Victoria enjoying the moment of levity before it fluttered away amidst the current reality which came rushing back full force into her mind. “Agent Warne seemed a bit pre-occupied when I met her in the foyer.”

“Oh?” questioned Jarrod offhandedly as he sat on the corner of the desk and idly ran his finger over the design in the top of the humidor holding his specially rolled cigars from his favorite shop in San Francisco.

“Yes, after our last conversation,” said Victoria with some hesitation before continuing, “I was surprised when she gave me a little smile and a quiet hello before heading upstairs.”

“Ka…uh…Miss Warne knew you hadn’t been feeling well, Mother.” Explained Jarrod. “She realizes how hard this must be for you and she’s concerned. They never anticipated any of what’s happened, Mother.”

Studying her son’s profile as he watched his finger tracing the pattern in the wood for a moment, Victoria nodded, “Yes, I realize that Jarrod. Just as I truly do realize it’s not Heath’s fault he was born and it’s not his fault his father was taken from us before he knew about Heath. He’s as innocent as me, perhaps even more so.”

Snapping his head up and watching as his tiny mother walked over to stand in front of the French doors, Jarrod frowned, “What do you mean, Mother?”

Taking in a large breath and letting it out slowly, Victoria didn’t turn from her position at the doors. Instead she searched for the words to explain the revelation she’d had the night before as she lay in bed, thinking back to a time in the past.

“When your father came back from Strawberry, I had a feeling something wasn’t right. There was no solid proof but it just seemed something was off.” Sighed Victoria shaking her head slightly.

“Mother, you’re not responsible for father’s actions and neither is Heath.” Decreed Jarrod crossing the room and standing behind her, placing his large hand on her small shoulders and offering the support of a son.

Leaning back into her son’s chest, Victoria kept her eyes locked to the garden outside the French doors and reached up to hold onto his large hands. “A woman…a wife…she can sense things. Womanly intuition I guess you’d call it. I sensed it and then ignored it. I was so happy he’d returned home for he’d been gone a long time and I was also busy raising two very rambunctious little boys.”

“Don’t, Mother.” Scolded Jarrod laying his cheek against her soft hair. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

Continuing on as if he hadn’t spoken, Victoria felt the first droplet of moisture trickle down her cheek. “If I’d known about Heath back then…back when your father was alive, everything would be so different now. I would have been strong and been able to….he should have grown up here playing with his brothers and sister instead of being alone. If only I’d acted so many years ago….if only….”

Wrapping his arms around his mother, Jarrod shushed her words broken by small sobs. “Mother, please….we can’t change any of that…any of the past. No matter how much we try or wish….we have to look to the future and what that holds. We have Heath now, Mother. Let’s concentrate on that.”

“He won’t stay, Jarrod.” Replied Victoria after taking a minute to brush at her tears and force herself to retake control. “I saw it in his eyes when he looked at me….he won’t stay.”

Chapter 73

“Mother, none of us know what Heath may or may not do.” Suggested Jarrod softly watching his mother’s small trembling fingers reach back up to tightly squeeze onto his hands as she continued staring out the French doors. “I know its difficult to go through each day with the what ifs hanging over our heads like a cloud but we must. We must give him time to assimilate all he could have with us. All that we are offering. A family, a name, a home and a heritage that is rightfully his. We need to make sure we don’t push him away again by demanding he take what we should have given two years ago.”

Letting out a small sigh, Victoria closed her eyes briefly and thought about the feelings surging up inside after she entered the bedroom and caught a glimpse of her husband’s injured son. His handsome face marred with bruises slowly fading from the deep coloring, his stomach wrapped with a crystal white cloth starkly standing out against the evidence of the additional trauma his body had suffered at the hands of others.

“It’s hard to not keep going over it. Wondering how different things could….would be if only we’d listened. If only we’d seen two years ago what we see now to be the truth.” Replied Victoria with a small shake of her head. “What will happen to us if he leaves, Jarrod? What will that do to our family?”

“We, our family, will continue on whether or not Heath Thomson gives us a second chance. I can’t say it will ever be the same if he leaves….we’ll know one of us is notably absent…gone from the fold so to speak. I believe our lives will be better from knowing he’s one of our family. No matter where he is, I’m proud to tell everyone he’s my brother and a part of us.” Stated Jarrod with a confidence he didn’t feel inside.

Placing a kiss on his mother’s silver hair, the prominent attorney stared out the glass panels of the doors before them. His mind was trying to overrule the dread he could feel inside at the thought of the blond turning his back on them and walking away. Whether he went with his uncle or back to the detective organization didn’t matter, he would still be denying what their family wanted to give him. No matter what words he spoke outwardly, inside he knew all would forever be changed and blighted. For now in all their hearts, Heath Thomson was their brother and to lose him would cut deep inside.

Mickey walked beside the tall rancher up the staircase to the second level of the mansion. Disinterested brown eyes noted the furnishings which spoke of wealth and prestige. He dismissed the trappings of riches without a second thought. Riches were never important to his blond peer and friend. For Heath had grown up a pauper and he never yearned for material things. His friend’s yearnings went deeper than the comfort physical items could bring.

Often he’d thought Heath was similar to the still waters running deep. Outwardly calm and strong, inwardly where eyes couldn’t see, he was in constant motion and turmoil. Inside the undertow of his current was forever in motion. Rushing forth and pulling back….seeking the emotional anchor to calm him inside for all eternity. Seeking that which he’d felt missing all his life and hadn’t yet found.

Knocking on the door, Nick nodded after it opened and Matt Simmons greeted him. The Pinkerton agent standing next to him was the recipient of a hard look before the freight owner reluctantly stood aside to allow them entry. The rancher inwardly applauded at the agent’s ability to let the hostile gaze roll over him.

“Nice to see ya’, Mr. Simmons.” Smiled Mickey used to the stilted dislike he received from the man knowing it was more professional than personal. Stepping into the room, he crossed to the bed and grinned widely at the blue eyes blinking themselves awake.

The male voices reached into his subconscious and he felt himself rising to an awakening. Blinking against the film of sleep still fogging his eyes, Heath lifted the corner of his mouth into a small smile at the sight of his friend standing over him, his head shaking as his brown eyes ran over his battered frame.

“Damn it’s good to see you in one piece, Heath. You got more lives than a cat, I swear. This time I was afraid you used them all up.” Smirked Mickey, his teasing tone unable to cover the concern flashing in his brown eyes.

Matt Simmons stiffened slightly as his nephew’s focus pinpointed to his fellow agent after he took a seat on the bed, talking to the blond lying propped up against the pillows. Heath had seemingly forgot who else was in the room. Nick felt more than he saw the older man’s back turn rigid and sensed the fear of loss rolling off him. Lightly touching the older man on the arm, he motioned with his head to the hallway and watched the light in the dark eyes conflicting with his warring emotions before giving into his silent request.

Moving quietly to the hallway, Nick closed the door behind him and lead the way down to the stairs with his brother’s uncle following. The hazel eyed man wasn’t sure why the loss he felt rolling off the other man made him want to reassure him but it did. He internally reasoned it was because he felt the same fear and it was an enemy they both had in common when it came to Heath Thomson. The Pinkerton detective agency was their common foe and their biggest obstacle.

Leading the way into the kitchen, Nick grabbed two cups from the sideboard and poured coffee for both of them. Setting the cups on the table, he carried over a metal container and sat before opening the top. A few minutes passed as neither man spoke but simply drank coffee and munched on the sugar cookies Silas always kept on hand.

“He’s not my son but I imagine how I feel is what a parent feels.” Offered Matt quietly, the first to break the contemplative silence of the kitchen. “It’s the job I don’t like, not his friends or fellow agents. It’s not the people.”

Nodding, Nick stood and walked to the cast iron stove bringing the pot back to the table and refilling their cups. He took the opportunity the motion provided to carefully word his response before retaking his seat.

“He’s my brother and I feel the same.” Affirmed Nick meeting the dark eyes across the table and adding, “We both want the same things, Mr. Simmons. You and my family….we want Heath in our lives….but not in theirs.”

“Ah, but I want him all to myself, Mr. Barkley.” Said Matt with a deep sigh.

Nick’s hazel eyes sparkled, “As do we, Mr. Simmons.”

“Yes, we are both seeking the same ends to a mean….we do not want Heath to return to the Pinkerton agency.” Agreed Matt with a small smirk, the irony of the situation not lost on the older man. “What’s that saying….the enemy of my enemy is my friend…”

“Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.” countered Nick, a smile hovering around his mouth at the low chuckle coming from the other man as his head nodded several times in agreement.

Holding up his cup in salute, Matt Simmons met the hazel eyes across from him and offered, “To our mutual goal, Mr. Barkley. Perhaps together is the only way to achieve a semblance of what we both want and need. May I suggest between myself and your family, we call a truce and turn our attentions to defeating our mutual enemy.”

“Agreed.” Replied Nick, sealing the agreement by clinking their coffee cups together.

Chapter 74

Sitting carefully on the bed next to his friend’s leg, Mickey leaned forward and winked before stating in a voice barely over a whisper, “I see your uncle still hates anything or anyone having to do with the agency, yourself excluded of course, Heath.” Lifting an eyebrow, the blond raised his left hand palm upwards, the motion enough for his fellow agent and friend to get the drift of his thoughts.

Mickey straightened back up and glancing over his shoulder at the sound of the door’s latch settling softly in place before shrugging. “It won’t ever change, Heath, at least not while you’re still an agent.”

Nodding slightly at his friend’s words, Heath let out a low sigh. He knew all too well the truth in Mickey’s words. He knew it was due to the deep running emotions and the love his uncle wore on his sleeve for him. The desire of his uncle to have his only living relative working and living with him on a daily basis was a long standing rift between them. The older man’s incapacity to recognize the value his nephew placed on his role in the organization often times sparked arguments, some small and yet, others waged like a full blown murderous storm.

“Heath, why don’t you just come home?” asked Matt angrily gesturing to his injured nephew recovering after a fugitive’s thrown knife missed the blond’s chest and ended up in the outer portion of his right arm. “You could have been killed and for what? For a thank you from someone if you’re lucky? Just come home with me, boy.”

“Uncle Matt, being a Pinkerton agent is important to me…”

“Yeah, I know.” Snorted Matt sarcastically cutting off his nephew’s words. “It’s always been more important than I ever was in your life.”

The blond’s jaw clenched in anger and he took a moment before replying, “That’s not true and you know it. It’s not a job for just anybody and I’m fully aware of all the risks. I’m a damn good agent and what we do is important.”

“You can be a damn good anything you set your mind to if you wanted. You’re smart and work hard…you could maybe have your own spread…whatever you want Heath!” stated Matt firmly before shaking his head. “What are you gonna do if someday you get injured so badly you can’t work? What if someone puts a bullet in your back? Cracks your head with a board or something? What then?”

“What if this…what if that! I don’t live by thinking of what ifs constantly.” retorted Heath in a tired voice, growing weary of the ever recurring battle between them.

“Well, I do.” Said Matt, his eyes filled with worry and concern. “Every damn night I live with them. Every day I’m hoping and praying word doesn’t come from Chicago by wire saying you’re maimed or dead.”

“Uncle Matt…”

“I’m glad your mama, god rest her soul, ain’t here. She’d be worried every second of the day and night like I am and want you to stop too.”

“You always told me she would have shouted from the top of the mountain how much she loved me if she had lived…how proud she would be of the man I grew into. I think she would have told me to do what I thought was right for me no matter how much she worried and fretted..” Countered Heath before adding. “And I’d tell her the same thing I’m telling you….I have no intentions of leaving the agency to work in a freighting company, Uncle Matt.”

”You sure as hell didn’t get that stubborn streak from my side of the family.” Hissed Matt bitterness rising up from within at his inability to sway his nephew away from his dangerous profession before his face scrunched up in disgust. “It must have been from…him.”

“Well, since we don’t know who ‘him’ is, reckon we’ll never know will we?” snapped Heath, the mention of the missing man who sired him and never returned was able to cause a quick flaring to his temperament. The missing parental unit who left him growing in his mother’s womb was a fiery button his uncle had learned early in their relationship could be the detonator in a stick of dynamite. “I’m not going back to Strawberry, Uncle Matt and I’m sorry but I can’t be the freight man you want.”

“Hey….helllooo…anyone there?” said Mickey waving his hand in front of the blue eyes that had taken on a far away look.

Rolling his eyes, Heath slapped the hand away and ignored the chuckle coming from his peer. Readjusting his right arm in it’s sling, he delicately shifted his still painful body on the bed and nodded his thanks for his friend’s assistance to alleviate the slight change in positioning. The blond was looking forward to the return of the physician later and the man’s promise they’d get him out of the bed and back onto his feet which would be the next step to his recovery.

Frowning, he suddenly experienced a feeling of being a guinea pig….all were watching to see how he’d react, to see what was to happen when he was mobile and back to his former strength. In his mind he knew they, the Barkleys, his uncle and his fellow agents, were the three paths before him at a crossroads. Each of them wanting and hoping he’d take their way. Letting out a heavy sigh, he stared at the ceiling dreading the moment he knew would come in the near future. It was a moment he was unprepared for and wanted nothing more than to avoid if he could but knew he couldn’t. In his heart, he was the one who was causing the pain in all their eyes with his presence. A pain he’d remove from one set only to deepen in the others.

Mickey had long since learned the true depths to his friend could be discovered in the windows to his soul. Light crystal blue pools of serenity looked outward to the world. Their warmth and calmness would only be broken by the ripples of thought inside. He watched as his friend and peer’s inner contemplation and darkened the hue of his orbs. The blond, a man afraid of no one or anything, would face the deadliest of those who scoured society but emotionally he remained scarred from his rocky beginnings in life.

Physically able to make his way through most situations, oftentimes, it was the emotional battlefield where he was left exposed and naked. The Irish immigrant sighed to himself and wondered how it was in such a short time both his friends found themselves and their hearts in turmoil because of the Barkley family. Heath had been rejected by the family two years ago and had moved on. Kate had never been interested in another man since her husband’s death until spending a few days with the prominent attorney son.

Mickey watched Heath’s darkening frown and silently wondered what was the magic this California family wove around Heath and Kate. What was this thing called Barkley that left shadows of pain and anguished unrest in his friends’ eyes.

What did they possess that caused both of his friends to gravitate towards them? Positively, he knew it wasn’t wealth or prestige for neither of his peers was materialistic or hankering for the finer things in life. What silent promises precipitated in the air of this ranch? What delicacies left his friends’ mouths watering in anticipation of a small taste? How could it be these people were threatening to steal his friends from his world and abscond them into theirs?

And what of the ex-con who turned his life around and took in a volatile, distrustful kid from an orphanage to raise him the best way he could when he didn’t have to? What would that do to Matt Simmons if Heath succumbed and stayed in Stockton?

In a flash of realization, Mickey Flanagan saw before him a no win situation. Two parties would lose and only one would win. To say he felt he had an advantage was the truth for Heath believed in his work and enjoyed the camaraderie of those in the Pinkerton agency. But to be honest to himself, he had to ask the question?

Was it fair of him to use the strength and bond of their mutual experiences over the years to keep Heath Thomson as a Pinkerton agent? Was it fair of him to keep his friend from taking a chance to perhaps have the family he’d wanted as a small boy struggling against the odds in that hell hole they called an orphanage? No, it wasn’t fair and no matter how much he wanted to take Heath back to Chicago he couldn’t emotionally blackmail the blond into making the choice he wanted. Which of the other two parties should he side with? Who deserved Heath Thomson in their lives the most?

Shifting on the bed and drawing his friend’s tortured eyes down from the ceiling and back to him, Mickey stated, “No matter all the things that have ever happened between you and that old man, Heath….he loves you more than anything in this world and he’s always been there for you.”

To be continued…