The Prisoner

Chapters 23-39

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 23

 

Nick rushed after the blonde, his words ringing through the house.  “Heath, wait a minute!”

 

In the foyer, Heath turned back, “Yeah, Nick?”

 

“Heath, what do you mean you’re leaving?”

 

Heath’s eyes showed his confusion, “I’m going back to work.”

 

“You’re not fully healed yet.” snapped Nick. “Today was your first day back on a horse.  You’re not ready!”

 

Heath slowly cocked his head to the side, staring into the hazel eyes which reflected fear.  His face showed a quick pained look before he pulled the shutters over his emotions. 

 

His voice was gentle, “Nick, you knew this day would come at one point.”

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about.  I’m talking about you rushing off to go after Freemont.  You don’t know where he is, how many people are with him, anything!” informed Nick firmly.

 

Chuckling, Heath shook his head, “It’s my job to find out those things.  When I find those answers, I’ll find him.”

 

“And do what?  Kill him?” asked Nick, the challenge in his voice not hidden to any one’s ears.

 

Bristling at the tone and insinuation in the voice, Heath stiffened, “You got something to say, JUST SAY IT!”

 

“You’re gonna get yourself killed!  You’re going off half-cocked!  You’re not ready! You were almost killed last time when you met up with him.  What are you trying to prove?” shouted Nick.

 

Nick jabbed the badge on his little brother’s chest to accent his words, his actions infuriating the man on the receiving end.    Heath’s face was red from the constant jabbing of the strong finger at the badge he wore so proudly, his sudden movement shocked Nick.  Grabbing Nick’s hand, he twisted bringing his older brother down to his knees in pain.

 

Stepping back, he loosed his grip and clenched his hands at his side, his gaze on the foyer floor, breathing deeply at his loss of control.  Looking down at his brother holding his pained hand, his blue eyes reflected his own torment. 

 

Kneeling down, his hand reached toward Nick, stopping at the unconscious flinch of the larger man and it fell onto his raised knee.   Sighing and hanging his head for a moment, Heath looked into the hazel eyes, speaking quietly.

 

“I’m sorry, Nick.  I didn’t mean it.”

 

“Heath, you’re not ready.  See Dr. Merar and wire Jack Larkin before you make a decision.” urged Nick.  “Do this for me, Heath.  Please, little brother.”

 

The concern in the hazel eyes and voice caused Heath’s heart to swell with love.  His desire to find Freemont was strong, but the words spoken by his brother were true.  He couldn’t rush to find Freemont, it would be reckless and careless.

 

“All right, Nick.  I’ll do it for you.” replied Heath and then adding,  “Understand this Nick, I’m a marshal, that’s who I am and what I’ll be returning to.”

 

Putting his hand on the black leather shoulder, Heath squeezed, “There’s a wildness in me Nick.  A recklessness.  The only thing that’s ever kept it under control is this metal and what it stands for.  I owe it, Nick.  It’s been my lifeline for many years.  I can’t turn my back on it.”

 

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Nick?” asked Heath, his voice pleading to the man who’d been there for him. 

 

Nodding his understanding, Nick glared into the blue eyes, “Now hear me, Heath Thomson.  In the time you’ve been recovering and working on the ranch, that look in your eyes has disappeared.  It didn’t return until you remembered what happened that night.  Not once.”

 

“What look, Nick?” puzzled Heath.

 

“That hard deadly look.  That look of cold fury.  It’s been gone all these months.”

 

His observations creating a frown on the face across from him, the words stinging Heath’s ears, floating across his mind.

 

“Heath, if you give into the feelings that go with that look, you’ll never come back.” admitted Nick despair mixed with his words.  “You’re my brother and I’m afraid I’ll lose you forever.”

 

The depth of the emotions in the hazel eyes startled Heath.  The words straight from the heart of the man he was kneeling in front of, the words which clearly reflected the man’s deep love for his little brother and the deep fear he carried.

 

Swallowing the emotions welling up in his throat, Heath pulled Nick up and wrapped his arms around the stricken man. 

 

“Nick, I can only be what I am.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.  I am Marshal Heath Thomson, based out of Ely, Nevada.  I can’t be Heath Thomson, Stockton rancher like you may want me to be.”

 

“You’re my shadow Nick.  I’ll always be your little brother and you my big brother.  Whether I’m here or elsewhere, that’s never gonna change.  Never.”

 

Nick held on as his heart broke until he was under control.  Heath sensed the ending of the outpour and held onto the broad shoulders.  The silence between them uncomfortable from the sudden display of emotion between two strong men.

 

Heath winked, “You’re lucky, big brother,  if you kept jabbing me with that finger you might’ve have lost your whole hand.”

 

Chuckling, Nick wiped his eyes and put an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders directing him slowly up the stairs, oblivious to the witnesses of the whole emotional scene. 

 

“Let’s have a drink, little brother.”

 

“Sounds good, big brother.”

 

“How exactly did you do that, Heath?  I thought you were gonna twist my whole hand off!”

 

“Well, Nick,  I’d be glad to show ya’.  It’d come in handy when you’re trying to get a date.” said Heath seriously.

 

“HEY!  I DON’T NEED HELP LIKE THAT TO GET A DATE!” blurted Nick.  “Well, maybe sometimes it’d help.  I could hold them down til they agreed to go out with me.”

 

Heath’s laughter mixed with Nick’s floated down to the rest of the family until it was shut off by the closing of Nick’s bedroom door after the two men entered.

 

Jarrod, Audra, Gene and Victoria stared at the retreating brothers, their cheeks filled with tears and their heart with dread at the thought of Heath’s future departure.

 

 

 

Chapter 24

 

At midnight, Jarrod walked out of the study and saw the front door quietly closing.  Curious, he opened it and spied Heath walking from the house.  Following, he stopped beside his little brother who was smoking and staring at the stars in the clear night sky.

 

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” asked Jarrod quietly his eyes following his brothers.

 

“Sure is.” drawled Heath.  “Perfect temperature, no clouds.  Couldn’t ask for a finer night.  Working late?”

 

Leaning against the corral post, Jarrod crossed his arms, “Just catching up on some paperwork.”

 

Snorting, Heath threw his cigarette to the ground and rubbed it out with boot toe.  “I hate paperwork.  All those reports ya’ gotta fill out.  Boy howdy, the bosses sure want to know how you spend your time and the taxpayer’s money.”

 

Laughing, Jarrod nodded in agreement, “Sometimes it’s not my favorite thing either.”

 

“Yeah, bet you like the game in the courtroom better, huh?” inquired Heath curiously. 

 

Though he’d been on the ranch recovering and working for months, he hadn’t spent a lot of time with the blue eyed attorney.  Jarrod had been away in San Francisco, his attorney skills being honed in another trial for another client. 

 

Having studied his oldest brother, Heath admired the analytical mind of the attorney, the attention to detail, his love for the law and his sense of justice.  Upon closer scrutiny, he knew under the suave attorney was the same temper Heath shared with his other siblings but shining through everything was his love and devotion to his family.

 

“I must admit I love the challenge, Heath.  I still get excited and nervous the night before I’m due to be in court.  I guess it’s the exhilaration of finding out if I have what it takes.  Can I ask the right questions to get to the truth?  How do I get this hostile witness to answer truthfully?” stated Jarrod, adding with a chuckle.  “I love the dance I have to do.”

 

“When did you realize you wanted to be an attorney?” asked Heath quietly sitting on the corral. 

 

Jarrod’s face reflected fond remembrance as the unexpected question took him back.  His voice quiet in the evening air, “I think in mother’s womb.  I’ve always been interested in the law, ever since I can remember.  It felt so right.  It’s always been a part of me.”

 

Looking up at Heath, he hesitated and wondered if his little brother wanted to hear the next part.  Heath glanced down and read the hesitation in Jarrod. 

 

Staring at his boots, he asked, “How about your Father?  What’d he think about it?”

 

“It took a long time, but Father came to realize I had dreams and visions of a future outside of the ranch.  It was difficult for him.  His eldest son wanted to leave the empire he was building for his family.” replied Jarrod quietly.

 

“Guess I can understand that.” nodded Heath. 

 

“Heath, he’s your father too.” stated Jarrod gently.  “If he’d known, you and your mother wouldn’t have had to struggle.  I just know it.”

 

Heath suppressed the anger in him, born so many years ago.  He knew how much his siblings and the community held Tom Barkley in their hearts.  He knew the respect held for the man, a respect he could understand based on some of the things Tom Barkley’d done for those around him. 

 

He’d been a builder and a shaper of dreams.  He built an empire and shaped the dreams of his children.  Heath could respect the role of father he played in the lives of his siblings, but would never condone Tom Barkley’s actions in regards to his mother.  His hatred for the man in that respect would probably never fade.

 

Staring at the stars, Heath knew Jarrod was expecting an answer of truth and would accept no less.   “No, he’s your father.  To me, he’s the man who shared a bed with my mother.  That’s all.  I’ve hated him for so long, I don’t think it’ll ever go away.  Anyway, it doesn’t matter now.  Ya’ can’t change the past.”

 

The two brothers fell silent, their thoughts of Tom Barkley different from each other.  This was the first time, Heath shared his thoughts on the man who was never there when he was growing up, the man who left a woman with child in a mining camp.  Each time the family broached the subject, he would purposely refuse to answer and leave the room.

 

“What about you, Heath? Why did you become an officer of the law?” asked Jarrod curiously wondering if he’d get a response. 

 

Heath’s elusive answers to questions regarding his past kept his family longing to know more about the blonde, his life, his thoughts, his hopes and his dreams.

 

Rolling another cigarette, Heath lit the end and inhaled deeply, his thoughts cringing as they went back over the years of violence. 

 

“It was a choice Frank Sawyer forced me to make the night I was gonna kill him.  Boy howdy, I was a wild one.  Standing there in front of Frank, he saw something good in me.  I hadn’t seen it in my seventeen years of life, but he saw it.  He looked me in the eye and stated, ‘Boy, I need a deputy.  Do you think you’re up to the challenge or are you a coward who’ll take the criminal way?’”

 

Chuckling, Heath jumped off the corral and leaned back, “I was stunned by his question.  It seemed like an eternity while I was thinkin’ about it and accepted his job offer.  To this day, I can’t imagine what he saw that night.”

 

Jarrod was stunned at the admission from the normally close-mouthed man.  His heart felt a sense of wonder and pride, his new little brother was trusting him with a portion of his past in this evening game of truth.

 

Looking at Heath, Jarrod said firmly, “I imagine, little brother, he saw what we all see in you.”

 

Shrugging, the blonde sighed, “Well, a year later Larkin recruited me into the marshal service.  End of story.”

 

“Have you ever regretted the life of a marshal, Heath?”

 

Jarrod was surprised at the pain springing into Heath’s eyes.  “Never the life, just the consequences to the people around me.”

 

“What do you mean?” frowned Jarrod, his tone gentle and wondering.

 

Closing his eyes, Heath replayed the scene in his head, his whisper tortured with guilt and grief.  “It’s too hard, Jarrod.  I don’t know if I can do it.  I’m not strong enough if it happens again.”

 

Putting a firm hand on the broad shoulder, Jarrod squeezed, “What, Heath? If what happens again?”

 

“Heath?” insisted Jarrod tenderly.

 

Breathing deeply, Heath wiped his hand over his face, “The retaliation against people you love.  My mama was killed cause of me being a marshal.  I won’t go through that again. Night, Jarrod.”

 

Heath walked off into the shadows of the night leaving his shocked brother behind, his confession stealing the breath from Jarrod’s chest, twisting his soul from the deep pain and guilt in his little brother’s voice. 

 

 

 

Chapter 25

 

Rising early the next morning, Heath left the ranch before anyone else was up.  On his way to Stockton, he stopped on a small hill and enjoyed the waking of the sun.  The colors brilliantly lighting up the sky, washing away all remnants of his pitiful sleep the night before. 

 

Leaning forward, his forearm resting on the saddle horn, Heath wondered if he’d made a huge mistake the night before.  He let his heart make the decision to stay in Stockton and on the Barkley ranch for a short while longer. 

 

Nick was right, he couldn’t go off half-cocked in his search for Freemont and Croker.  Remembering the look of concern in Nick’s eyes, Heath sighed and shook his head. 

 

Thinking back, he didn’t know when it happened.  When had the Barkleys found their way into his heart?  It was almost as if they had waylaid him, ambushed him with their unselfish caring and giving. 

 

It seemed to happen so suddenly.   At first he was angry, confused and now months later his gut twisted when he thought of anyone possibly using them against him. 

 

“Boy howdy, we’re in a pickle Charger.” drawled Heath patting the bay’s neck.  “I don’t think the Barkleys are gonna let us go without a fight.  No matter what the reason, family’s important to them.”

 

Arriving in Stockton, Heath’s first stop was the telegraph office.  The second, the newspaper office where he spoke with the editor and left with several papers in his hand.  Walking down the street, he greeted some of the citizens with a nod or tip of his hat.  Entering the restaurant, he sat at a corner table, ordered breakfast and opened the first paper. 

 

Sipping his coffee, he ran his eyes over the articles.  Reading only the articles that caught his attention, taking out his little notebook and making several notations.  Two hours had gone by the time he had completed his examination of the papers.  Standing, he paid for his breakfast and walked to Dr. Merar’s office.

 

Opening the door, Helen Merar smiled widely, “Heath, how wonderful to see you!  How are you feeling?”

 

“Fine, Mrs. Merar.” smiled Heath sheepishly.  “Any chance I can see Dr. Merar this morning?”

 

The older lady and her husband had been to the ranch on several occasions during his recuperation.  The couple now included the blonde marshal as one of their Stockton children.

 

“I’m afraid he’s not here my dear boy.  Mrs. Henry went into labor last night.  Is everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, I promised Nick I’d see the doc before I left town.” sighed Heath.  “I can check back tomorrow.”

 

“Oh, when are you leaving?” asked Mrs. Merar.

 

“Well, soon as I can.  Duty calls.” smiled Heath slightly.  “I’ll be at the sheriff’s office for a while in case the doc returns this morning.”

 

Mrs. Merar agreed to send her husband to the sheriff’s office when he returned.  Opening the door to the sheriff’s office, Heath entered, an hour later he emerged and headed back to the telegraph office.

 

Nick and Jarrod rode up the street, dismounting in front of the telegraph office where they had seen their brother enter.  Walking inside, Heath was writing out a wire. 

 

“Hey, Heath!” called Nick.

 

“Nick.  Jarrod.” drawled Heath handing the wires to the telegrapher.  “I didn’t know you were gonna be in town today.”

 

Jarrod smiled, “We have some business to take care of in my office.  Why don’t you come with us?”

 

Nodding, Nick clapped the smaller man on the back, “Yeah, money bags here can buy us a beer after we’re done.”

 

“Sounds good.” admitted Heath.  “I’ll be in the saloon or Mr. Barkley’s office. Find me when you get a response.”

 

“Sure, Marshal.” said the telegrapher grinning at the tip handed to him.

 

Sitting on the edge of the desk, Heath waited patiently for his brothers to finish.  Jarrod looked at Nick and pulled out another agreement.  He handed it to Heath.

 

“What’s this?” asked Heath opening the document.

 

“This is an agreement which states you are Thomas Barkley’s son and entitled to a share of everything.” explained Jarrod.  “We, the family, would like you to sign it, Heath and accept what is yours.”

 

Shaking his head, Heath handed the paper back towards Jarrod, “I don’t want anything.”

 

“You’re entitled to it Heath.” said Nick.  “You’re our brother and you own part of everything.”

 

“I don’t want it.” replied Heath firmly letting the paper fall onto the desk.  “If you’re done, let’s get that beer.”

 

“Why not?” asked Nick brusquely.  “Why won’t you sign it?”

 

Jarrod put a hand on Nick’s shoulder, his voice quiet, “Nick.  Heath, we did spring this on you.  Perhaps you need time to think about it.”

 

“Jarrod, you know the law.  Well, so do I.  It doesn’t matter if I sign that paper or not.  Under California law, children born out of the sanctity of marriage, bastards like me, aren’t entitled to anything unless the father initiates the legal proceedings.  Well, the father is dead, unable to initiate anything and I don’t want it!” gruffed Heath walking to the door.  “I’ll see you in the saloon.”

 

Frowning, Nick looked at Jarrod.  “He won’t sign it cause he’ll feel obligated to come back here.  I think that’s why.”

 

“We can’t keep Heath here if he doesn’t want to stay.  He’s a grown man.” sighed Jarrod picking up the document and putting it back into the file folder.

 

“Is what he said true, Jarrod?  That bit about California law?”

 

“Yes, it is.” admitted Jarrod.  “Mother and I went over it thoroughly before we had the family discussion.  Mother didn’t want anyone else to know about the California regulation.  She wants Heath to get his fair share, should anything happen to her.  With a signed legal document, we’d hope to circumnavigate any future problems.”

 

Nodding, Nick grinned, “Stubborn, ain’t he?  He’s a Barkley, no doubt about that!”

 

Laughing, Jarrod agreed and they walked to the saloon.  Heath was standing at the end of the bar, a beer in front of him talking to Harry.  Nick swept his eyes over the crowd, swearing under his breath at the sight of Barrett, a fired hand sitting at one of the tables.

 

“Marshal, I’m talking to you.” called Barrett.

 

Heath picked up his beer and took a swallow, continuing his conversation with the bartender.  A clenching of a muscle in his jaw the only indication he had heard the man.

 

Nick and Jarrod walked to the bar and ordered a beer.  All three brothers sat at a table on the other side of the room.  Heath on the side, his forearms on the top of the table, Nick was in between he and Jarrod.  The three quietly talked, ignoring the comments from the other side of the room.

 

Barrett, ignoring his cousins’ remarks, stood up and stopped four feet away from the table of Barkley brothers.  Standing with his hands on his hips, Barrett sneered, “I’m surprised the Barkleys let you stay, seeing as how you let the old man’s murderer get away.  Seems ta me they done traded a back shooter for a bastard.”

 

Cursing, Nick was stopped by Heath’s hold on his arm, “Nick.”

 

Barrett  walked over and leaned on the table, “Back shooter. Barkley. Bastard.  Hey, they all start with B.  Funny coincidence, ain’t it?”

 

Nick’s face was red with fury, Jarrod’s fists were clenched and Heath sighed loudly.  Taking off his badge, he slowly placed it on the table and said quietly, “Hold this for me, Nick. Don’t interfere boys.”

 

Jarrod and Nick looked at Heath, then nodded.  Barrett smiled and waited.  The occupants of the room watching the confrontation closely.  Everyone in Stockton was fully aware of the injuries the marshal had sustained several months ago.  When the fight started, everyone in the saloon knew the marshal was fully recuperated.

 

Striking out with his left hand, Heath knocked Barrett’s right arm out from under him.  Jumping up, he slammed Barrett’s head onto the table, the beers in their mugs spilling out onto the wood.

 

“Dammit, Heath!” yelled Nick grabbing the badge before the beer could reach it.

Jarrod pushed his chair back to escape the flowing beer.  Picking up his mug, he took a sip and watched from the sidelines.

 

“Sorry, Nick!” replied the blonde calmly.

 

Grabbing the stunned Barrett by the shirt and belt, Heath threw him across the room where he landed with a loud crash on the floor.  The cousins ran over, each grabbing Heath by an arm.

 

“You need help?” shouted Nick curiously.

 

“Nope!”

 

Thrusting his heel viciously onto the instep of the man on his left, the man cried out in pain and let loose of the left arm he was holding.  Striking the man on his right in the stomach, Heath brought his knee into the bent over man’s face, breaking his nose.   Rushing over, Barrett grabbed Heath from behind, pinning his arms to the side. 

 

Jarrod looked over at Nick, “Shouldn’t we help, Nick?”

 

“Let’s ask.  Heath?” called Nick, hazel eyes beaming with pride.

 

“I’m busy, Nick!” shouted Heath raising his legs and kicking the cousin in front of him who leapt off the floor in the groin. 

 

The man’s face turned deathly pale as he slid to the floor out of commission.  Heath threw his head back and smashed it into Barrett’s eye.  Cursing Barrett stumbled backwards, a right sending him to the floor, where he lay still.

 

“WATCH OUT!” shouted Nick and Jarrod when broken nose came up with a knife. 

 

Pushing the blade to the side with his hand, Heath twisted the wrist and broke it, the sound of the crack mixing with the scream of pain.  A left hand sent the agonized man into oblivion.

 

Sitting back at the table with his brothers, Heath replaced his badge and picked up his half empty beer.  Swallowing the remainder of it, he took out his watch and looked at the time.

 

“You ready to head back to the ranch?”

 

Chuckling, Nick nodded and clapped the blonde on the back.  “I am.  Thanks for the entertainment.”

 

Jarrod smiled widely as Harry yelled to the departing brothers, “First time a Barkley didn’t bust up the place during a fight!  Come back anytime, Heath!”

 

“Very funny, Harry!” scowled Nick as they left through the swinging doors.

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

A week later with a blessing from Dr. Merar and instructions from Jack Larkin, Heath knocked lightly on Nick’s bedroom door.  Nick’s anxiety reflected in his face at the early morning request from his little brother for a ride and talk.

 

Stopping beside the lake, Heath dismounted and stood on the bank gathering his thoughts.  Nick leaned against a tree and waited, his heart filled with dread, the day he feared was here.

 

Turning, Heath sat beside Nick and rolled a cigarette.  “Nick, I wanted you to be the first to know I’ll be leaving tomorrow, headed back to Ely.”

 

The constriction in Nick’s throat matched his heart.  Nodding, he twisted a piece of grass in his hands, unable to speak at first, he had to force the words out of his mouth.

 

“I don’t want you to go, Heath.”

 

“It’s just best if I leave.” stated Heath firmly.

 

“Best for who?  Not me and not you.  You’ve become a different person these last few months, Heath.  The ranch and the work has well, it’s stilled some of that wildness inside of you.  Can’t you see that?” implored Nick, his hazel eyes wet with unshed tears.

 

“Nick, it’s safer for the family if I leave.” replied Heath quietly. “Please let me try to explain.  Just listen to me.”

 

“Okay, I’m listening.” choked out Nick turning his eyes away from the blue ones.

 

Squeezing his older brother’s shoulder, Heath sighed, “I want ya’ to understand, then you’ll realize why I can’t stay here.”

 

Nick swiped his eyes and turned back to look at pain and anguish in the sapphire eyes.  Heath closed his eyes briefly and started speaking.

 

“Bout five years ago, I was after a group of rustlers in Nevada.  I caught them all but one.  There’s five of them, two were killed by me and two sent to prison.  One of the men, escaped on his way to prison.”

 

Nick saw the hand holding the cigarette begin to shake and Heath took several deep breaths to calm the shaking. 

 

“I didn’t know he’d escaped.  I’d been on their trails for months after them, so Larkin sent me home to Strawberry.  He figured I needed a break before starting on another case.  Anyway, I went home and visited with my mama, spent my free time being lazy, rejuvenating my soul and body.”

 

A smile flitted across Heath’s face, his ocean eyes lit up with love before filling again with anguish.  Wiping his face, he glanced at Nick, the hazel eyes were intense on him.

 

“I was home for two weeks when I went out hunting one day.  I came back and walked in the cabin.  He was there Nick, the man that escaped.  I don’t know how he knew where I was.   Nobody but Larkin and his secretary knew where I had gone.  Mama, uh, she’d been attacked and..”

 

Standing, Heath walked to the bank, his hands clenched at his sides, breathing heavily.  Two large hands squeezed his shoulders from behind, his voice was thick as he continued. 

 

“He hurt her, real bad.  She was so small and he was an animal.  She was laying on the floor, bleeding and unconscious.  When I walked through the door, I froze. He told me he was gonna kill me, like I killed his father.  Then his eyes changed and I knew at that moment, he was gonna kill her.  When I went for my gun, he put a bullet in me and shot mama in the head while she lay on the floor.  I remember shooting him before I passed out.  When I woke, he was dead.”

 

“She’s dead, Nick cause of my job.  She’s dead cause he wanted revenge and she loved me.  She died because he followed me to my family.” stammered Heath, grief stealing his voice of any strength.

 

“Heath..” whispered Nick turning his shaking brother and wrapping his arms around him.  “God, I’m so sorry.  It wasn’t your fault.  It wasn’t, Heath.”

 

Breathing deeply, Heath nodded and stepped away.  Looking into the hazel eyes, he shook his head, “Doesn’t matter now, Nick.  What matters is the family.  I don’t want to take a chance on the same thing happening again.”

 

“What are you saying, Heath?  What are you asking?” The hesitation clear in Nick’s voice.

 

“When I leave here, I won’t be coming back.  I won’t put any of you in danger like I did mama.” said Heath quietly.  “You’ll all be safer after I’m gone.”

 

“Heath, you want us to forget about you?” inquired Nick, incredulously.  “How are we supposed to do that?  You’re our family!  You’re my brother!  I can’t just forget about you!”

 

“Nick, I can’t sleep at nights thinking of what could happen to you all.  It’s eating me up inside!  This isn’t easy for me either, Nick.  You think I’m heartless and made of stone!  Well, I’m not!  This is how it’s gotta be.” shouted Heath, the words filled with torment before he walked over and leaned on Charger.  “I didn’t want to care for anyone ever again.  It’s too hard and dangerous.”

 

Walking towards his little brother, Nick’s voice was pleading, “Heath, I can’t give you up, not now.  We just found each other, don’ t throw it away.”

 

Looking over, Heath said quietly, “What if someone comes after me and they find Audra and your mother instead?”

 

Heath watched his words halt Nick’s steps and confusion graced his face.  “Think about it, Nick.  It’s possible, do you wanna take the chance?  I don’t.”

 

Climbing up, he nudged Charger into a gallop towards Stockton leaving his brother behind.

 

 

Chapter 27

 

Dismounting in front of the sheriff’s office, Heath greeted Fred Maden who was on his way out of the building and the two men disappeared inside.  Fred poured coffee and put it on the desk in front of Heath.  Opening his drawer, he handed the marshal a pile of papers.

 

“Here’s the new posters.  Came in yesterday on the afternoon stage.”

 

Nodding, Heath sipped his coffee and went through the posters carefully studying each face.  The lawmen spent an hour going over the posters together, talking and sharing knowledge of the criminals.

 

Standing, Heath shook the sheriff’s hand, “Fred, I’m leaving tomorrow.  Take care of yourself.”

 

“I was hoping maybe you’d changed your mind and be staying.”

 

“No, can’t do it.” stated Heath quietly. 

 

“I understand, Heath.” sighed Fred.  “Well, I’m gonna miss ya’.  Come back when you’re in the area.”

 

Walking out onto the boardwalk, Heath was stopped by the telegram delivery boy.

 

“Wire for ya’ marshal.” informed Timmy a small red haired boy, his eyes wide on the marshal’s badge on his vest.

 

Handing the boy a tip and ruffling his hair, sending the boy on his way, Heath opened the wire and looked at Fred, ”From Jack.  Bounty hunter killed Croker in Colorado a week ago.  Name of Handy Random.  Can’t say I’ve ever heard of him.  Damn bounty hunters.”

 

“At least he saved the taxpayers some money on a trial.” snorted Fred with disgust.  Most lawmen thoughts on bounty hunters were the same.  They were paid killers interested only in reward money, under the guise of justice.

 

“I’d best get back to the ranch and let ‘em know.  See ya’ Fred.” called Heath riding back to the ranch.

 

Duke and the hands were around the corral watching Nick climb up into the saddle of a horse when Heath dismounted from Charger and led him into the barn. 

 

Walking over, he stood quietly by the cheering crew, his eyes never leaving his black vested brother using his strength and wits to bring the horse under the submission of the rider on it’s back.  Heath nodded to the winner of the contest and waved him over.

 

“Nick, I got a wire the family should hear about together.”

 

“Joe, take over for me.” ordered Nick handing off the reins, climbing over the corral and jumping down besides Heath.  The tension in both men making their steps stiff as they walked to the house by each other’s side, but not together.

 

Gathering together, Heath stood in front of the family, addressing Victoria, “Mrs. Barkley, a bounty hunter caught up with Croker and Freemont a week ago in Colorado.”

 

“Oh my!” gasped Victoria.  “That’s wonderful news.”

 

“Are you bringing them back here, Heath?” asked Audra hopeful this turn of events would keep her new brother here on the ranch.

 

Smiling slightly, Heath shook his head, “No Audra, Croker was killed.  Nichols is on his way to Colorado to bring Freemont to Carson City.  He’s wanted there for murder.”

 

“Well, that’s good isn’t it?  That means you can stay.” grinned Nick, the relief evident in his face. “Croker’s dead.  Freemont’s caught and you don’t have to chase him down.”

 

Victoria watched as Heath’s shoulders visibly straightened and his emotions shut down. 

 

“No, I’ll still be leaving in the morning.  Excuse me.”

 

Nodding to the ladies, he held his hat in his hands and left the room, feeling the disbelieving eyes burning his back.  Sighing, he climbed the grand staircase to his designated room. 

 

Taking out his saddle bags and bedroll, he set them on the bed.  Staring at them, he walked to the window and hit the frame with his left fist, the family’s anguished eyes flashing in his mind. 

 

“Dammit, git yourself under control.” mumbled Heath. “It used to be so easy.”

 

“Heath, nothing is ever easy.” admonished Victoria softly seeing his back stiffened at her words.  Her fingers played with the straps on his saddlebags after she walked over and sat on the bed.

 

“No, I reckon not, ma’am.” admitted Heath softly sitting in the chair by the bed, his eyes cast downwards staring at the knot in the wooden floor, his mind wondering why she was in the room with him.

 

“I remember when we first saw this valley, your father and I.  It was so magnificent.  The sun had just risen and the warm colors were spreading across the land.  Nothing was untouched by its beauty.”  

 

Heath’s head cocked to the side as he tried to bring forth a picture in his mind of the scene she was painting.  Smiling slightly when his fidgeting stopped, Victoria held his saddlebags on her lap.

 

“We weren’t the first people here.  No, there were others.  Indians, spanish, chinese and white people.  All nationalities and cultures.  All different but working towards one goal.  Trying to survive and build a home.  Not an empire, but a home.”

 

“Was Stockton here?” asked Heath quietly, his curiosity peaked immensely at her topic of conversation.

 

Laughing, Victoria smiled, “It was a one building outpost.  A trading post.”

 

“Hard to believe now, huh?”

 

“Yes it is.  I can still picture in my mind how it was back then.  It wasn’t easy getting by those first years, having little ones and working so hard.  Your father was often away a lot of times on business, out on the range, working every day long after dark.”

 

“Was it difficult for you to be alone so much?”

 

“At times, it was very difficult.  Sometimes I’d be so angry at him for having to work so hard.  That doesn’t make much sense, does it?  Me being angry at Tom for trying to build a better life for us.  I was though and he knew it.”

 

Heath relaxed and sat back in the chair, watching her as she spoke, her gray eyes taken away by memories.  Her soothing voice spoke and her words seemed as if they were a lullaby to his ears.  Soft, gentle and caressing.

 

Victoria Barkley was a strong woman in spirit and soul.  She had to be to welcome him into the family, chin held up, against the gossip fodder and scandal.  She had to be to ask him to accept what he was entitled to due to who his father was.  She was willing to give it to him, all because her husband had slept with his mama. 

 

Smiling slightly from his far away thoughts, Heath knew where all his siblings got their strength of character from.  Victoria lead by example not words, her actions spoke louder than most people’s would ever in their lifetime.  Each of them had inherited this trait from her along with tenacity.

 

“Heath?”

 

“Yes, Mother?” replied Heath absently, his thoughts drawn harshly back to the future, jumping up from the chair at the title he unconsciously bestowed her.  “Yes, Mrs. Barkley?”

 

Standing, Victoria stood in front of the embarrassed man and squeezed his hand, “There’ll always be those who feel you have somehow wronged them.  Whether you’re a marshal or not, it doesn’t matter.  They’ll feel this way because of the type of man you are here, in your heart.”

 

Placing her small hand over his heart, she smiled, “You will always see things in the view of right and wrong.  You will always have an inner sense of justice, compassion and caring.  These are the things that will keep you separate from other less desirable people.”

 

“You’re a man I am proud to call son and I would be honored for you to call me, Mother.  I am not your mother, by birth, but I love you no less.  I love you because of your heart.  I know if you truly search your heart, you’ll find this is your home.  I believe your mother would feel the same as I do if our situations were reversed, Heath.”

 

“Whether you’re a Marshal or rancher, don’t let fear over a horrible event in your past steal your future away.  Don’t let the fear of the chance of something happening stop you from living.  Don’t let this fear overshadow everything in your heart.”

 

Patting his chest, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.  Walking to the door, she looked back, “When you leave tomorrow, remember we will always be here, on this ranch, in Stockton.  Most importantly, we will be in your heart as you are in ours.”

 

“If you allow this fear to stop you from loving and caring, that would be the greatest crime of all, Heath.  One with eternal consequences for all involved.”

 

The door closed quietly behind her.  The blonde sagged back against the wall, his weak legs failing him and he slid down to the floor, his hands holding his head as his body shook uncontrollably.

 

 

 

Chapter 28

 

Sheriff Frank Sawyer glanced up at the opening of his office door and grinned widely,  “Boy what are ya’ doing here!”

 

Jumping up, he rushed over and grabbed the blonde in an enthusiastic hug.  Holding him by the wide shoulders, he was greeted by a lop-sided grin.  “I didn’t know you were coming for him.”

 

“Thought I’d surprise ya’ and see if I could steal Theresa away from you.” replied Heath seriously.

 

Laughing, Frank clapped the younger man on the back.  “Sit down and have some coffee.”

 

“Did you make it, Frank?” asked Heath, a sour look on his face.

 

Rolling his eyes, Frank snorted, “No, my deputy made it.  One bad pot of coffee all these years.  It was a mistake, jeepers!”

 

Smiling, Heath savored the smell coming from the cup under his nose.  “That was a catastrophe!  Ya’ about killed me that night.”

 

Sitting in the chair behind the desk, Frank’s shining eyes took in his young friend, his remark offhanded.  “I thought you’d have given up chasing criminals for chasing cattle.”

 

The stillness flying through the body of the man across from him caused Frank to look at him intensely, his eyes now seeing the haunted look in his friend’s eyes.  Heath strained to keep himself under control. 

 

The past five weeks since he’d left the Barkley ranch had been extremely difficult.  He’d thrown himself back into his work, hoping to quell his mental torment, his heart kept screaming to him but he tuned out its words.  Not a day went by when he didn’t wonder about the people he left behind, his thoughts causing him physical and emotional pain. 

 

“How are the kids?” asked Heath sitting the cup on the desk. “Bet they’re getting big.”

 

Smirking, Frank nodded, “Sure are.  Theresa’d have my head if ya’ didn’t come to supper tonight.”

 

“Train’s not leaving til the morning.  I’d be happy to be there.” drawled Heath standing.  “Let me check out the prisoner and get a room.”

 

“What’s wrong with you?  You trying to get the wife mad at me or something!” complained Frank.  “She won’t let either of us in the door if she knew you were gonna stay in a hotel.”

 

Chuckling, Heath nodded, “Boy howdy, we can’t have that, can we?”

 

Leading the way to the holding area, Heath stopped beside Frank and stared at the man in the cell.  “Howdy, Tom.  If you tell me where your uncle is, I’ll speak to the judge about how you cooperated.”

 

Tom Freemont glared at the blonde marshal and looked away.  The smile on the marshal’s lips didn’t reach his cold sapphire eyes.  John Freemont had escaped from the law in Colorado before Marshal Nichols arrived to take custody.  The capture of his nephew, Tom, was a small consolation for the bigger fish.

 

Turning on his heel, Heath walked out of the holding area.  “Frank, I got some things to take care of.  How about if I be at the house at six?”

 

“Perfect.” smiled Frank wrapping the young man in another hug and pounding on his back.  “I missed ya’ boy.”

 

Walking down the boardwalk of the small town, Heath headed to the telegraph/post office and entered.  Grabbing some paper, he wrote a wire to Jack Larkin, letting him know he’d arrived and would be departing in the morning with the prisoner.

 

Theresa Sawyer was a woman to stand beside any man.  She was cute, tough and sensitive.  A pleasure to the eyes with as much beauty on the inside.  Heath blushed when she kissed his cheek and pulled him into the small house by his hand.  The children scampered to hug their adopted uncle and father warmly.

 

During dinner, Theresa and Frank exchanged looks when Heath couldn’t keep his mind on the conversation at hand.  The three boys ate their dinners and cleaned the table.  Frank motioned with a nod of his head and Theresa smiled.

 

Walking outside, she sat on the steps by Heath who was smoking a cigarette in the cool night air.

 

“So wonderful to see you again, Heath.  The boys have sure missed you.”

 

“I can’t believe how big they are.” grinned Heath.  “They’ve changed so much.”

 

“Kids have a way of doing that.  I think they grow during the night.” admitted Theresa.  “Frank told me you found your father’s family.”

 

“Yeah, in Stockton.”

 

“That’s exciting.  What are they like?” inquired Theresa, the tension in the blonde palpable at her question.

 

Turning and leaning against the post of the porch, she waited patiently.  Over the years, she’d come to realize Heath would not openly ignore or disrespect her in any type of way. She was the wife of his friend and the mother of three boys who called him uncle.  The respect of women he carried within himself wouldn’t allow it.

 

Their faces flashed in his mind and he smiled tenderly at the warmth they created in his heart.  His voice was soft and quiet, his words almost wistful when he spoke several minutes later.

 

“Jarrod’s got dark hair and blue eyes.  He’s the oldest and a lawyer with offices in Stockton and San Francisco.  He really cares for people and if I ever needed a lawyer, I’d get him cause he’s the best.”

 

“Nick is the second oldest.  His hair’s black, hazel eyes, taller than me.  He runs the ranch and some of the Barkley holdings.  He acts all loud and tough but deep inside, he’s got  an oversized heart.  He’s really a big old softy, a big soft grizzly.  He’s there for his family always.  He won’t back down from anyone.”

 

“Eugene, or Gene as we call him.  He’s got brown hair and blue eyes.  He’s younger than me and smart as a whip.  He’s going to college to be a doctor.  If he puts his mind to something, he’ll do it and anything else he wants.”

 

“Audra’s the only girl.  She’s very beautiful with long blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes.  She could be my twin, we look so much alike.  She spends a lot of time helping at the orphanage and elderly in the community.  Someday she’ll be a wonderful mother and wife.”

 

“Is their mother still alive?”

 

Sighing loudly, Heath nodded and ran a hand across his face.  “Her name’s Victoria.   She really holds the family together.  She’s tiny but her heart is bigger than her.  She’s really amazing.  I’ve never met anyone like her before. She’s one of those people you can find yourself leaning towards.  A really special person.”

 

“Wow, three brothers and a sister.  That’s wonderful, Heath!” exclaimed Theresa.

 

“Yeah, it is.” admitted the blonde marshal.  The two old friends stared up at the stars and let the silence fill their being.  Sounds of the four males inside the small house worked it’s way into their vicinity of hearing.   The sounds of the Barkleys filled his head, the sound of their voices inside of him.

 

Turning to Theresa, he looked at her with a wide eyed stare, reality setting in. 

“Boy howdy, Jack was right.  I am a few oats short of a bushel!”

 

Kissing her on the cheek, Heath jumped up.  “I gotta send a couple wires.  Thanks for dinner!  Tell Frank I’ll see him in the morning.  Give the boys a hug from me!”

 

Heath walked off down the street, his pace quick, while Theresa watched from her porch seat.  Frank sat in the spot vacated by his friend, his arm across his wife’s shoulders.  “I’ve never been able to figure out how you do that with him.”

 

Smiling to herself, Theresa leaned into his embrace.  “Do what, darling?”

 

Kissing her head, he replied, “Get that stubborn boy to do something.  You didn’t do anything but talk to him.  I could do that til I’m blue in the face and it never works.”

 

Laughing, Theresa smiled widely, “Same way I get you to do things, honey.”

 

The couple laughed together enjoying the quiet of the night.  Pulling her up to her feet, he held her around the waist and smiled into her dark eyes, “It’s about time the kid had some happiness in his life.  Thank you Esa.”

 

 

 

Chapter 29

 

The sun was setting in the west when the train rumbled to a stop, the cars shaking when the engineer let free the steam.  The door of the livestock car opened from the inside.  The conductor watched the blonde marshal lead the horses out and tie them to a hitching rail.  Climbing back into the livestock car, Heath walked over and untied the rope holding Tom Freemont in place against the wall.

 

“Come on, Tom.” growled Heath pulling the man to his feet and dragging him out into the night.  “A nice jail cell’s waiting for ya’ with all the comforts of home.”

 

Marshal Nichols scrunched up his nose when the two men approached.  Stepping back, he held up his hands, “Whoa there, Thomson.  Don’t come any closer.”

 

Stopping, Heath snapped, “What’s the matter with you Nichols?”

 

Nichols stared at the two men in wonder, “What happened?  Did you take a bath in horse manure or something!”

 

“Tom here wanted to get a little fresh by trying to roll me.”  growled Heath yanking on the prisoner’s arm with the laughter of the other marshal following their progress.  “Shut up, Nichols and get the horses!”

 

Nichols followed the two men walking up the street, the marshal’s office their destination.  Opening, the door Heath entered with the prisoner in front of him.

 

Jack Larkin stood up, stopping his progress at the smell which permeated the room.  “Dammit, Thomson!”

 

Spying Nichols entering, Jack ordered, “Take the prisoner out back and duck him in the stream, Nichols.”

 

Heath snickered at the scowl on the other’s face as he lead the man out as directed.  “Heath, get cleaned up and then can we discuss business.”

 

Looking into his friend’s eyes, Heath handed him a report and reached up.  Placing his badge on the desk, he smiled, “Nothing to discuss, Jack.  I’m bound for a place where I won’t be a prisoner to the past.  I’m bound for home.  Thanks for everything over the years.”

 

Sighing loudly, Jack picked up the badge and held it in his fingers.  Looking up , he grinned and held out his hand, "Good luck, Heath.  The marshal service is gonna miss you.”

 

Taking the hand, Heath shook it vigorously, ”Stop in when you’re in the area of Stockton.” 

 

Opening the door, Heath climbed up on Charger and spurred him out of town, leaving Ely, Nevada behind.

 

A week passed before the blonde crossed onto Barkley range.  Rider and man were exhausted by the grueling pace they kept up intent on reaching the place and the people who had stolen the heaviness from the man’s heart.

 

Riding up, he dismounted in front of the mansion and ran his eyes around the ranch.  His frown deepened when the hairs on his neck prickled, his gut tightened at his heightened perception of all around him.

 

Unlooping the thong from his gun, he realized the feeling came from the lack of men that should’ve been around in the early morning preparing for the day’s work.

 

Everything was still.  No sounds were heard except for the horse running in the corral.

 

Something was wrong. 

 

 

 

Chapter 30

 

Slowly taking out his gun, Heath walked to the door.  Standing to the side, he turned the knob with his left hand and let the massive plank of oak fall open.  Stepping forward, he entered with his pistol in front of him.

 

Victoria gasped from the bottom of the stairs, “Heath!”

 

Looking quickly around, he holstered his gun and stared at her tear stained face.

His eyes were riveted on the crimson cloths in her hands, the color draining the color from his face.

 

“Who’s hurt?” whispered Heath, holding onto her arms, panic rising in his voice.  “Who?”

 

“Eugene.” sobbed Victoria grateful for the strong arms that wrapped around her trembling body. 

 

Holding the tiny woman, Heath’s eyes closed briefly.  “What happened, Mrs. Barkley?”

 

Wiping her eyes, Victoria stepped back, her voice stronger from the strength he lent her.  “Audra and Gene were out riding.  They ran into rustlers.  Gene was shot in the side when they were running from them.  Audra brought him home.  Nick, Jarrod and the men went after the rustlers.”

 

“How bad?” stammered Heath his eyes on the landing above the stairs.

 

“He lost a lot of blood before Audra could bring him home.  Howard’s with him now.” informed Victoria leading him up the stairs and opening the door.

 

Heath stopped slightly at the sight of his deathly pale brother in the bed with Dr. Merar and Audra by his side.  Looking at Audra’s arm, Heath saw the transfusion of blood, the lifeline from his little sister to his little brother.

 

“Heath!” cried Audra unable to move from the tubing in her arm.

 

“Audra, don’t move.” ordered Howard stopping in front of the returning blonde, halting his movement towards his siblings’ sides. 

 

“You’re all dusty from the trail.  Gene’s running a fever and doesn’t need a secondary infection, Heath.  Clean up first and then you can get nearer.”

 

Heath’s glare caused Howard to step back slightly.  The hardened eyes matched the furious face.  When his gaze turned back to his younger siblings, the expression changed to one of pain and concern.

 

Tugging on his arm, Victoria lead him from the room.  “Heath, put up your horse and do what Howard says.”

 

Nodding, Heath kissed her cheek before heading down the staircase and outside.  Leading Charger to the barn, he stretched his stiff back.  Compliments of the scuffle with Tom Freemont and bothered by the ride back to Stockton.  Heath unsaddled the stallion, quickly grooming him before grabbing his saddlebags and heading to the house after a mumbled apology to his friend. 

 

“Sorry, old boy.  When the men get back, I’ll come out later.  Can’t leave the ranch and house unguarded with just the women.”

 

Eight hours had passed since Heath arrived back home.  In his exhausted mind and body, it felt as if it were days.  Gene’s fever from his wound, finally lowered in temperature, his sleep evening out.  Audra was resting in her bedroom with Victoria staying by her upset daughter. 

 

Howard met the returning men on his way back to Stockton, informing them of Gene’s status.  Relieved, the men headed back to the ranch having delivered one of the three rustlers delivered to the sheriff.  The other two delivered to the undertaker.

 

Nick and Jarrod stopped in the doorway of Gene’s room, their eyes shining at the sight before them.  Gene looked up from the bed and raised a trembling hand to his lips, shushing his older brothers. 

 

Heath sat in the chair beside his little brother, asleep with his head on his folded arms, the week of frantic traveling catching up with him and taking over, relaxed in sleep knowing his little brother was not being beckoned to death’s door.

 

Nick stepped closer to the bed and the floor creaked heavily under his weight.  Heath bolted up from his chair, gun ready.  All in the room froze and stopped breathing at the sudden movement.

 

“Still coiled like a spring, huh, boy?” stated Nick sighing in relief when the gun was put back in its holster.

 

“Boy howdy, I coulda shot ya’ Nick.” growled Heath.  “You should know better than that.”

 

Jarrod winked at Gene and Nick.

 

“Welcome home, brother Heath.”

 

 

 

Chapter 31

 

Nick dressed slowly and headed downstairs for breakfast.  His head hurting from the amount of whiskey he’d consumed the night before.  The celebration of the return from the trail drive lasted until well into the night.  The crew gladly helped their two ranch bosses celebrate the end of the hard work and bone busting weariness.

 

Grinning, Nick wondered how much Heath had won at the poker table the night before.  Men from all around Stockton were learning of his little brother’s hidden talents at poker.  Heath would partake in cards while the others partook of the brown alcoholic beverages. 

 

Six months ago today, Heath had returned to Stockton after resigning from the marshal service.  Six months ago, his life had changed with that one action.  For the past six months, he worked to find his place in the Barkley family.  For six months, he worked by the side of Nick on the ranch.   For six months, he worked on learning all aspects of the Barkley empire.

 

It had taken almost two months for Heath to call Victoria, Mother.  It had taken him that long to fully relax and stop looking for past acquaintances to show up.  It had taken him that long to stop riding into Stockton and reviewing the wanted posters with Fred. 

 

It had taken Heath that long to stop reading all the newspapers of the surrounding areas searching for any news on John Freemont.  It had taken that long to calm the fear inside of him and to let it go. 

 

In the six months, only one time had Nick feared his brother would leave.  The day Jarrod introduced Matt Toddman who they now knew as Matt Bentell.  The family had been stunned that day by the knowledge their beloved Heath had first been in the war and second, incarcerated in Carterson prison. 

 

To this day, Nick couldn’t understand how Heath stopped himself from ripping Bentell apart.  The deadly look in the blue eyes scared everyone in the family.  They hadn’t seen that look for months and it was frightening. 

 

After asking Bentell to leave the ranch, Jarrod unknowingly patronized Heath by explaining Bentell had been tried and found innocent of his crimes.  Nick had to pick his older brother off the floor after he met up with Heath’s quick right fist.

 

The anger in Heath’s voice had shocked Jarrod down to the core of his whole being, “You’re a lawyer, to you, Bentell had a trial and was found innocent.  To me and the other men who crawled out of there missing limbs, having been beaten and whipped into unconsciousness, degraded by being treated as animals, starved until our skin hung off our bodies, filthy from living in the sewers of hell – it’s not so simple.  Bentell walks free, we’re still in prison.  The prison of our nightmares.  The prison in our minds.  That is something you can’t escape, no matter how hard you fight.  To us Jarrod Barkley, Attorney at Law, IT’S NOT JUSTICE – IT’S A FARCE!”

 

Heath shook the whole mansion when he slammed the door on his way out that afternoon leaving the stunned family behind.  His anger still thick in the air of the house long after he’d left.

 

The family’s and Nick’s anxiety grew as the day wound down and Heath didn’t reappear.  Later that night, he found him by the lake, an empty bottle in his hand and staring at the moonlight on the water. 

 

A full bottle of the family’s finest scotch helped Heath share parts of his past with his older brother.  The brother who sat quietly, letting the younger man talk, ramble, slur and yell.  The brother who held him when the tears and shaking started.  The brother who helped him with two ears and a pair of strong arms. 

 

Nick held onto Heath long after he passed out in Nick’s arms from exhaustion and his alcohol intake, long after Jarrod found them by the lake.  Nick held on and wasn’t going to let go, ever.

 

Neither man spoke of the time by the lake.  Neither had to, something happened that night between them, something bigger than the two of them.  A bond was formed and both could feel it.

 

Heath avoided Jarrod for two days until Pappy took matters into his own hands.  Locked in the study, the two men had it out, not physically but with words.  Heath was angry for Jarrod’s patronizing, stymied view of the situation and Jarrod was angry for Heath not trusting in him as a brother, not trusting the family enough to talk about his past. 

 

Afterwards, Heath looked into the blue eyes of his eldest brother and saw only love looking back at him from the face showing the dark bruise from his fist.  Winking, Heath offered to teach Jarrod boxing.  Smirking, Jarrod offered Heath a glass of scotch.  The offer promptly turned Heath’s face a shade of green and he refused after rushing out the french doors to the back of the house.

 

In all the turmoil, happiness and sadness of the past six months, Heath had the family by his side.  Standing with chins held up by the side of the former marshal turned rancher and brother.  Heath Thomson knew he was a blessed man.

 

“Nicholas, will your brother be joining us sometime this morning?” asked Victoria calmly noting the wince on her middle son’s face when Silas dropped a lid.

 

“He’s probably up and gone already, Mother.” sighed Nick after taking a sip of his coffee.

 

Silas shook his head, “Mr. Heath tain’t here, Mrs. Barkley.  He’d ne’er show’d fer cof’e tis morn’g.”

 

Nick held his head and glanced at Silas, a frown crossing his face.  “What do you mean?  He always has coffee with you in the mornings, Silas.”

 

Silas nodded, “Sure’s Mr. Nick, not tis morn’g tho.”

 

“Maybe he’s sleeping in.” stated Audra after Silas left the room.

 

Snorting, Nick stood up, “Not likely, Audra.  I’ll go check though.”

 

Reaching the foyer, he smiled gratefully as Silas handed him a glass with headache powders mixed in.  “Thanks, Silas.”

 

Climbing the stairs, Nick knocked on Heath’s door, opening it slowly and calling out, “Heath?”

 

Looking in the room, he went to the window and looked out towards the corrals.  His eyes fell upon the bay horse walking slowly towards the yard riderless.  Running down the stairs, he flew out the door shouting for Duke McCall.

 

The foreman jumped up from his seat in front of the bunkhouse and ran after Nick.  Nick stopped and whistled, the bay stallion came trotting over as trained.   Looking the horse over, Nick’s hand swiped at the saddle and his fingers were wet with blood.

 

Gathering the men, Nick left two behind to guard the ranch and Duke backtracked Charger.  Reaching Stockton, no sign of his little brother could be found and Nick felt a chill blow through his soul. 

 

Two more search parties were formed, the citizens of Stockton rallying for the man who came to them as a lawman, but now was one of them.  The day went slowly by and night had fallen when Nick, Jarrod and the crew returned.  Breaking the news to the distraught women and Silas.

 

Heath had vanished.

 

 

 

Chapter 32

 

How long really is a second of time?  Heath Thomson knew that measure of time intimately. 

 

The fifteen year old boy had counted each second while he waited for his target to show himself on the battlefields of war.  He had counted each second as he lay hidden, not moving until his mission was accomplished.

 

The fifteen year old boy had counted each second he was awake, lying in fear, waiting for the next round of brutality in Carterson. 

 

The fifteen year old boy had counted each second as he lay on an army cot, deciding whether to live or die, after his liberation from Carterson.

 

The sixteen year old boy had counted each second when he faced other contestants in the game of life, healed physically, angry and looking to leave the world.  The only rule to the game to leave the world, it had to be at the hands of another.

 

The seventeen year old boy-man had counted each second as he contemplated the offer and the challenge of the sheriff across the room from him. 

 

The nineteen year old marshal had counted each second digging the grave for his mama and laying her to rest in peace.

 

The twenty four year old marshal had counted each second while he watched for a chance to steal his sister away from Freemont and his men.

 

The twenty five year old brother had counted each second while he fought beside his fever ridden little brother.

 

Yes, Heath Thomson knew that measure of time intimately.

 

He remembered climbing on his horse and leaving Stockton after a fair night of poker.  That was the last thing he could recall.  He wasn’t sure how he ended up in the mountains, but he did for here he was. 

 

Heath regained consciousness and became aware of his surroundings, his awareness turning to confusion at the man staring at him.  Heath searched his memory, but he didn’t know him.  Of that he was sure. 

 

His shoulders hurt from his raised arms tied above his head to a tree.  He could tell by the feel of his body, he’d been shot.  His left side was throbbing, the pain radiating out from one central location, looking down he saw his shirt and pants were darkened with dried blood, a bandage wrapped around his slim waist.

 

“Do I know you?” inquired Heath leaning his dizzy head against the inside of his arm keeping his focus on the other man, the draining of blood also drained strength along with it.

 

“Never met you before marshal.” replied the man with a smile.  “I’m just making a delivery.”

 

Sighing, Heath’s defeated voice mumbled, “Figures.  I’d like to know who did this before I die.”

 

Snorting, the man stated, “You ain’t gonna die.  You’ll live til the man gets here tomorrow.”

 

“You’ve failed in your mission.” whispered Heath, pain creasing his face, his breathing changed.

 

Standing, a worried look flew across the man’s face.  Visions of his generous payment disappearing flashed before his eyes.  Greed took over and propelled his feet forward.  He’d been told this former marshal was dangerous and to use extreme caution.

 

Through half opened eyes, Heath counted the seconds as the man walked closer.  His focus on the game, he had to win or all would be lost.

 

Stopping two feet away, Heath broke the man’s kneecap with a kick.  Crying out in pain, the man went down and strong legs grabbed him around his neck.  Heath’s jaw clenched tightly as he squeezed with all the strength left in his legs until the man fell until to the ground, windpipe crushed and eyes unseeing.

 

Breathing heavily, Heath closed his eyes and tried to calm himself.  His wound had reopened and was losing blood again.  Opening his eyes, he used the man’s body to raise himself a few inches and take the strain off his shoulders.

 

Looking up, he saw his wrists were tied with a rope.  Attached to another rope hanging down from the lower limb of a tree, about eight inches from his hands.  Closing his hands on the rope hanging from the tree, above his wrists, his body screamed in pain as he slowly pulled. 

 

Moving his hands up the rope, his feet against the tree, he wrapped his legs around the lower limb and turned himself over and onto the top of the branch.

 

Laying on the course bark, his vision wavered and he fought to stay conscious.  His fingers fumbled with the knot holding the rope to the branch, sweat trickled into his eyes, his body was trembling. 

 

A sigh of relief escaped his lips when the rope was freed.  His teeth made short work of the ropes that bound his wrists.  Holding on, he lowered himself to the ground, falling to his knees and holding his bloody side. 

 

Taking the gun from the delivery boy, he checked the chambers and put it in his empty holster.  Grabbing the knife out of the man’s boot, Heath put it in his own.

Wiping his forehead, he crawled over to the saddlebags, grabbed another cloth and folded it. 

 

Untying the bandage, he wiped the wound with water from the canteen.  Red lines peeked out from the wound, the bullet was still in him.  Rewrapping the wound, he stumbled when he tried to climb to his feet, his body fell forward to the ground. 

 

His means of escape was standing at the edge of the camp.  Climbing to his knees, he stumbled forward two steps before falling again.  Pain made his body shudder from the impact with the hard ground, a moan of pain reached the horse’s ears.

 

Weakness was his companion.  Sometimes even the strongest mind and will cannot over come the weakness of body.  Weakness was his companion and it wasn’t leaving.

 

“Nick.” whispered Heath before his eyes closed on their own.

 

Jarrod caught Nick’s arm as he stumbled on his way to the front door.  “Nick!”

 

Unbelieving hazel eyes, wide with shock at what had flashed before them, turned to look into the worried blue ones, “Heath!  The mountains Jarrod.  The mountains!”

 

 

 

Chapter 33

 

Nick pushed towards the mountains with Jarrod by his side.  Duke and the crew followed behind, their horses raising a cloud of dust. 

 

Jarrod couldn’t get the look in Nick’s eyes out of his mind.  Why was he so certain Heath was in the mountains?  No sign of him had been found the day before?

 

Jarrod grabbed Nick’s arm before he climbed on Coco and asked the question, “How?”

 

Shaking his head, Nick’s face was puzzled,  “I saw him Jarrod.  I heard him in my mind whisper to me.  I don’t know how.  I just know he’s there.”

 

Trusting in Nick, Jarrod and the men followed.  Nick’s heart was in his throat, he could feel despair rising inside himself.  Was it his or Heath’s despair?  How was this possible?  Did he even want to know or question it?

 

‘No’, he shook his head at his thoughts, ‘don’t question, just accept it.  If it helps me find him, I don’t care.’

 

Nick lead the group to a faint trail and back into the hills.  Winding, he stopped suddenly and dismounted in a clearing.  Gesturing to the men, they spread out and moved forward, rushing into the empty camp.

 

Duke knelt by the man on the ground and turned him over, “Nick, his throat’s crushed.”

 

Signs of an injured person were all about the camp.  Drops of blood on the ground, a bloodied cloth, bloodied ropes.  Heath’s hat lay on the ground, his pistol hidden beneath the man’s vest in the small of his back.

 

Duke walked around and looked at the ground, trying to discern what had happened.  “Looks like Heath crawled away.  See?”

 

Nick and Jarrod studied the ground where Duke pointed.  Standing up, Nick looked at the sun in the sky.  “Split up, we gotta find him before dark. He’s been here a night and day too long already.”

 

The men scrambled to find their blonde boss, the blood on the cloth in their minds, the fear in the dark haired boss’ eyes hastening their movements. 

 

‘You’ll live til the man gets here tomorrow’, the words replayed themselves in the subconscious of the wounded man. 

 

He lay on the ground with his face pressed into the dirt, sweat rolled into his eyes from his forehead.  His vision wavered, the trees moved sideways, then towards him and then away.  His eyes couldn’t focus.

 

His mind fumbled, trying to bring his thoughts together.  His legs wouldn’t work right, they wouldn’t obey his wish.  He didn’t know how long he lay there when he realized he could move his arms.  Reaching out, he pulled forward an inch at a time.

 

‘You’ll live til the man gets here tomorrow.’  The words urging him, his instincts telling him to get away.  He couldn’t meet the man or he’d die.

 

His fevered mind pulled him into the past, the trees and grass resembled those in Tennessee.  He didn’t know where his unit was in these hills, but he knew he had to find a place to hole up.  He had to find a place to keep still and hidden.  A place away from the enemy, the gray boys. 

 

‘Charlie?’ 

 

He must’ve been captured or got away.  The stealthy indian moved like a ghost in the woods, at home in his surroundings.  The dark haired Cheyenne was the boy’s constant companion, an odd pair the two of them, like an overly tall man and a real petite woman on a dance floor. 

 

The pairing of the two unlikely people had raised eyebrows.  Their unit commander’s gut instinct proved to be on the money, these two together were a deadly pair, their rate of successful missions high above other teams.

 

Lying on his stomach in the underbrush, Heath fought to keep himself still.  The fever raged in him, he was cold and his clothes were wet.  He didn’t know if he had crawled through water or if it was from his body. 

 

He could hear the sounds of the enemy all around him, scurrying through the landscape.  The knife was held tightly in his hand, the pistol in his holster gone.  The knife’s blade was solid and sharp.  In his hands, a most deadly piece of metal.

 

“DAMMIT, WHERE IS HE?” shouted Nick angrily, the voice reaching out and startling the injured man causing a slight moan to escape before he could stop it.  Heath was tired but knew he couldn’t stay here now.  He would not be captured.  He’d rather die in the brush than go to some prison.

 

Jarrod’s eye caught the small movement in the brush when Nick shouted in anger.  The fear in his brother coming out in the form of irritation and fury.  Nick knew Heath was close, he could feel it.

 

Grabbing Nick’s arm, Jarrod pointed to the underbrush.  Kneeling, both men saw the blood on the ground leading into the brush. 

 

“HEATH?” shouted Nick.  “HEATH, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE!”

 

The shouted words brought the others running over to the brothers’ side.  Duke had the men spread out and surround the brush. 

 

“Nick, he probably doesn’t know it’s you.  The ground’s wet where his body laid, I bet he’s got a good fever going.” suggested Duke.

 

Nick looked up at Jarrod, “How’re we gonna get him outta there?  If he’s armed, he may try to kill us.”

 

“I know, Nick.” admitted Jarrod.  “Why don’t we start pulling the brush away til we can see him or part of him.  Then we can tell if he’s got a weapon.”

 

Nodding, Nick replied, “Good thinking.”

 

Heath lay his face on the ground, he couldn’t move anymore, he was beyond exhausted, he was waiting for death to claim him.  He didn’t move when the sounds started.  He didn’t move when the snapping of the brush reached his ears.  His eyes were half open, but his body couldn’t respond anymore, fever and weakness was all he knew.

 

Laying on his stomach, Nick took the knife out of the clenched hand by prying the fingers away from the handle.  His hand shook as he brushed back the blonde sweat soaked hair.  The blue eyes were opened slightly, but not showing any awareness, Heath’s only movement was the shaking of his fevered chilled body, the only sound his faint breaths.

 

Nick drug Heath out and held him in his arms.  Tears spilled out of his eyes while he called into the blonde’s ear, “I heard you, boy.  I’m here, Heath.  I’m here.”

 

 

 

Chapter 34

 

Jarrod and Duke took Heath out of Nick’s arms and carried him back to the camp.  Opening the shirt, they unwrapped the bandage.  Nick pulled Heath up and they took off his shirt.

 

The stares of the crew turned into curses of anger at the whip scars on the back of their boss.  Nick and Jarrod exchanged looks of pain and understanding at the scars they hadn’t seen before.  The physical marks left over from Carterson.

 

“Bullet’s still in him, Duke.” stated Jarrod at the lack of an exit wound.  “We gotta get it out.”

 

“Maybe we should get him home first and let Dr. Merar do it.” suggested Nick.

 

Shaking his head, Duke replied, “He could be dead by then.  We have to take it out or the lead will poison all of him.  He’s already weak from the fever.”

 

The fire was built up and water boiled to sterilize the knife.  Nick sent a man back to Stockton to bring Dr. Merar and another to the ranch to return with a wagon. 

A blanket had been spread by the fire and Heath carefully laid onto it.  Jarrod cleaned the dirt and grime off his little brother’s body.  Cuts and scrapes from crawling were all over his arms and body. 

 

Taking the knife out of the water, Duke nodded.  Jarrod held onto Heath’s legs and Nick lay across his upper body.  The men stood by ready to help.  Duke said a quick prayer and cut the bullet wound.

 

The incision of the knife into the wound awakened the unaware man, the anguished screams tore into their hearts, his body tried to move away from the new source of tremendous pain.  Two more men knelt down to hold the blonde in place, the strong thrashing movements from the still man taking his brothers by surprise.

 

“Heath, don’t move.” called Nick into his brother’s ear.  “STOP MOVING, HEATH!”

 

Whether it was Nick’s command or Heath passing out, no one knew but all were grateful when the anguished screams of pain no longer filled the air.  Heath had gasped once before he stopped thrashing.  Nick sighed in relief when he heard the faint breath sounds.

 

Duke found the bullet and threw the piece of lead on the ground.  Taking soap and water, he cleaned around the wound.  Wiping the blood away, he reached up and was handed a bottle of whiskey.

 

Seeing the bottle, the men resumed their positions across Heath’s body and swallowed the lumps in their throats. 

 

Nick called into his ear, “I’m sorry, Heath but we gotta do the whiskey thing.  It’s gonna hurt, boy!”

 

Duke poured the whiskey into the wound and Heath’s body stiffened once before going completely still.  Taking more cloth, he bandaged the wounds and covered his boss with a blanket.  Nick knelt by his little brother, wiping his face and talking to him.  Stopping at the sound of Jarrod’s voice, he looked up.

 

“Nick, we need to get him off this mountain to the wagon.” whispered Jarrod, his face white from Heath’s pain.  “Let’s make a travois.”

 

 

 

The darkness gave way to a glorious light when Heath walked out of the cave.  Stopping, he looked across the clearing and smiled.

 

“Mama!” shouted Heath, happiness and love shining in his eyes.

 

“Heath, my son, my boy!” called Leah waving her hand in the air. 

 

Running, the two met in the grassy clearing.  Leah’s feet left the ground as Heath grabbed her in his strong arms and swung her in a circle.

 

Laughing, he put her down and kissed both her cheeks.  The sun was shining on her blonde hair, lighting it up in brilliant color, framing her delicate face.  Her blue eyes sparkled like diamonds and her hands held his handsome face.

 

“I love you, Heath.  We don’t have much time.” smiled Leah.

 

Puzzled, Heath looked around him and saw the darkness on the edges of the meadow closing in.  “What’s going on, mama?  Where are we?”

 

“Sweetheart, listen to me.  You have to go back.  Your family needs you.”

 

“No, I’ll stay with you.  I’ve missed you so much, mama.” whimpered Heath.

 

“Do as your mama says now.” replied Leah firmly holding his hand.  “Look at me, Heath.”

 

Raising his eyes, she smiled, “Remember I love you and the Barkleys love you.”

 

“I’ll remember, mama. I know they love me.”

 

The darkness was a short distance away and rapidly closing in. 

 

Kissing his cheek, she put her hands on his chest, “You’ve been betrayed Heath by one of your own.  You must uncover the truth.

 

“Who betrayed me, mama?” 

 

“You have to find out on your own.  Now go and keep your family close to you.  Keep them safe.”  Leah pushed with her hands.

 

“Who mama?  Who?”

 

“HEATH!” shouted Nick holding the thrashing, screaming man down in the bed. 

 

Ten days and not a sound out of his little brother.  Not even after the fever had broken five days ago.  Ten long days for the family, holding their breath, sitting by his side waiting to see if any damage had been done to his brain from the fever.

 

The blue eyes opened at the sound of Nick’s shouts, the thrashing and screaming stopped.  Looking frantically around the room, the family saw the confusion in Heath’s eyes. 

 

Grabbing Nick’s shirt with weak hands, Heath whispered with tears in his eyes, “See..her?  You..see..mama..Nick?”

 

“No, little brother.  Only you were there with your mama.” answered Nick his voice full of emotion, his heart slowly calming after the shock of being awaken from sleep by the one sided conversation Heath carried on with his mother and the screams. 

 

“I…was…betrayed.” mumbled Heath falling asleep in the safety of Nick’s arms. 

 

Looking up, the rest of the family was huddled together, tears streaming down their cheeks.  Victoria closed her eyes in prayer, thanking Leah for sending Heath back to them.

 

 

 

Chapter 35

 

Heath opened his eyes and looked around the darkened room.  Pushing himself up against the headboard, he frowned at the weakness still inhabiting his body.

His strength was returning everyday, however, he wouldn’t be wrestling any steers or men for a little while. 

 

Swinging his sleeping pant clad legs over the edge of the bed, he grabbed a shirt and his gun.  Quietly opening the door, he slowly made his way down to the lower level of the mansion and into the study.

 

A week had passed since he’d frighten the family with his awakening.  A week of healing sleep and unanswered questions when he was awake.  A week of having someone watching his every movement. 

 

Nick’s watchfulness was almost suffocating and gladly accepted by his recovering brother.  ‘A big old softy, a big soft grizzly’ thought Heath with a grin.  ‘Nick’d likely raise the timbers if I called him that out loud.’

 

The ranch crew was taking shifts posting guard on the mansion.  All had readily agreed to participate in keeping their blonde boss safe.  Heath worked hard over the months to earn their trust and respect.  Their protectiveness over him causing the proud man to sigh gratefully and breath easier.

 

Entering the study, he pulled the heavy curtains across the glass french doors, turned up a lamp and sat at the large desk with his pistol by his left hand.  Opening a drawer, he took out a pencil and paper.  ‘Nothing works better than the tried and true process of elimination.’ sighed Heath.

 

The words of his mama firmly in his mind.  Who betrayed him?  That was the question of each day.  He had gone through things in his mind and came up empty handed each time. 

 

In the quiet of the sleeping house, Heath Thomson took pencil in hand and wrote from the dark recesses of his mind.  Past cases, past criminals, past lawmen, past acquaintances, past endings to cases…from the beginning of his marshaling days to the beginning of his ranching days.  He began at the oldest and worked forward.

 

His writings continued fueled by his fear for those around him.  It was fueled by his own inner sense of values which decreed betrayal of a trust was one of the worst foul deeds. 

 

A man who’d betray someone close was the lowest form of humanity.  A man who’d look you in the eye and stab you in the back was the most dangerous form of an enemy.

 

Page after page was filled with the facts, people and places of a case.  Over the years, he’d handled and done a lot as a marshal.  Listing everything on paper was taking longer but it was the only way he could rely on to sort it out in his mind.  

 

Attention to details had always been an asset along with a sharp mind, these things would be how he uncovered the traitor.  The comparison of information and unveiling of a pattern would reveal the traitor.

 

For Heath Thomson had come to realize when he dwelled on everything in his mind, somewhere his cases must have overlapped.  Somewhere, unknown to him, the traitor had at that time taken his first step into the dark world of betrayal.  The traitor had something to lose from the former marshal’s presence and something to gain from his act of betrayal. 

 

Somewhere locked up in Heath’s own mind was the key.  He just had to find it.  His eyes grew heavy as the night continued and his writing continued. 

 

In the morning, Jarrod and Nick found their sleeping brother, pistol in his left hand, pencil in his right.  His head on his forearms asleep, papers scattered across the top of the large desk.

 

The tingling of Nick’s spurs alerted Heath to their presence.  Opening his eyes, he yawned and wiped his face.  “Morning.”

 

“Why aren’t you in bed?” demanded Nick taking the pistol from his scowling brother.

 

“Boy howdy, Nick.  I’m turning into a quilt laying up there all the time.” groaned Heath, wincing at the stitch in his side.

 

Picking up a couple papers, Jarrod read the words and looked at the blonde, “Heath, are these cases you’ve worked on?”

 

Nodding, Heath stood.  “Yeah.  When I was on a case sometimes if I wrote things down, I’d have a clearer vision of what was going on.  I just haven’t been able to see any pattern yet.”

 

“Makes sense to me.” admitted Nick.  Pulling on Heath’s sleeve, he growled  “Come on sleeping beauty, breakfast is waiting.”

 

“Just a minute, Nick.  I gotta clean this up.” mumbled Heath reaching for the papers, stopped by Jarrod’s hand and grin.

 

“I’ll do it Heath.  You’d better go clean up for breakfast.  You don’t wanna keep the boss waiting.” replied Jarrod with Nick agreeing he didn’t want to wait anymore cause he was starving.

 

Winking, Heath sighed, “Thanks Jarrod.  I know how much Mother likes the family to be at the table on time.”

 

“Come on!” growled Nick ignoring the chuckles and grinning as he pulled his little brother out of the room.

 

After breakfast, Heath joined Nick outside at the corral watching the men work with some unbroken horses.  Jarrod sat in the study reading the papers his brother had written.  The years of violence his brother's been subjected to in the name of justice stared back at him, causing him to frown deeply.

 

The morning quickly passed and the two brothers walked back to the house.  Opening the door, they were greeted by Jarrod, papers in hand.

 

“Brother Heath, it does appear the pen is mightier than the sword.”

 

 

 

Chapter 36

 

Spreading some of the papers across the desk, Jarrod cleared his throat and started speaking quietly, gesturing to papers as the words filled the room.  Jarrod watched the sapphire eyes change while he spoke.  Skepticism turned to disbelief, disbelief to pain, pain to anger.  The anger turned to a cold deadly look.

 

Heath started pacing, his fury spelled out clearly to his brothers. Nick’s hazel eyes wavered between anger and concern as Heath’s pacing continued.

 

“We need proof, Heath.” stated Jarrod quietly.  “With proof, we can put him where he belongs.”

 

Leaning over the desk, Heath growled, “Forget proof!  He’s dead!”

 

“You can’t kill him in cold blood!” stated Nick grabbing Heath on the arm.

 

Heath pushed Nick away and glared, “He’s dead, Nick.  You hear me?  DEAD!”

 

“Nick’s right, Heath.  You can’t take the law into your own hands!” explained Jarrod, hoping to meet the rage with calm and clear thinking.

 

“TAKE THE LAW INTO MY OWN HANDS?  HE DOESN’T DESERVE A FAIR TRIAL?” shouted Heath gesturing wildly resuming his pacing.  “HE’LL GET WHAT HE DESERVES!”

 

“Heath, calm down.  Listen to me.” urged Nick.  “Don’t go off half cocked!  Heath, don’t throw everything away on revenge!  Don’t do that to us!”

 

Heath stopped and stared at Nick, his beacon, his shadow.  The bond between them saved his life, the bond strange to both of them and yet, comforting to both of them.  The pleading and concern in Nick’s voice and eyes reached through his anger.

 

“Nick, do you know how many are dead cause of this traitor?  How many lives he’s ruined?” asked Heath, his voice trembling with emotion.  “My mama's be alive if it wasn’t for him.  You want me to calm down!”

 

Holding Heath by the shoulders with his strong hands, Nick shook his head, his voice urging.  “He’s gonna pay, Heath.  I promise he will.  We’ll all see that he does.  We need proof to put him in jail.”

 

“I got all the proof I need!” snapped Heath, not wanting to admit his brothers were right, wanting only to seek out the traitor, wanting to ignore his inner sense of justice, the right and wrong in him that kept him on the right side of the line.

 

Jarrod looked into the confused blue eyes and used Frank Sawyer’s words against his brother,  “Heath, are you up to the challenge of taking the right way?”

 

“That’s not fair, Jarrod!” shouted Heath jumping out of Nick’s hold, too many emotions flowing through him causing tears to spring into his eyes.  “That’s not fair!”

 

Jarrod walked over and pulled Heath into his arms, “I’m sorry, Heath.  You’re right, it wasn’t fair of me to use your friend’s words against you.  But, is it fair of you to sacrifice your place in our family, in our lives and in our hearts?”

 

“God, I wanna kill him.” sobbed Heath, his body shaking from the emotions flying out of him.  “I wanna rip out his black heart.”

 

“I know, Heath.” whispered Jarrod, holding tight and patting the shaking back.  “ I know you do.”

 

Nick wiped his eyes and wrapped his arms around Heath when Jarrod released him and growled,   “Come on, Marshal Boss.  Let’s nail this sonofabitch to the Barkley barn door!”

 

Chuckling at the endearment the crew bestowed upon him, Heath wiped his face and nodded.  “Okay, it’ll be the right way.  I’ll get the proof, you bring the nails.”

 

 

 

Chapter 37

 

A week later, the journey of proof started with a battle of wills.

 

“What do you mean we’re leaving?” inquired Victoria.  “I do not remember planning a trip.”

 

“Mother, it’s all arranged.” sighed Nick in exasperation. 

 

Audra looked at her brothers angrily, “I can’t leave.  I have to organize the bazaar for the orphanage.”

 

“Honey, Susie Watson can take care of that for you.” smiled Jarrod. 

 

Heath rolled his eyes as the protests from the women continued.  The brothers hadn’t wanted to frighten the women with the reason for their displacement.  Silas entered the parlor and spoke to Heath.

 

“Mr. Heath, ther’s a man at ta door for ya’.”

 

“Thanks, Silas.” stated Heath leaving the angry discussion behind.  Walking into the foyer, he smiled widely and grabbed the man in a hug. 

 

“Thanks for agreeing to help.”

 

Frank Sawyer grinned, “Anything for you, boy.  I always wanted to be a federal marshal.  Kinda like to see how the other half live.”

 

Chuckling, Heath led the way into the parlor.  The presence of the new man halted the heated conversation.  Victoria and Audra’s faces showed concern, their eyes bordered on tears, at the name of the man who introduced Heath into his past profession.

 

“Heath, are you leaving us?” stammered Victoria.

 

Heath replied, “ Mother, not in the way you’re thinking.”

 

“What do you mean, Heath?” asked Audra.  “What other way is there?”

 

Sighing, Heath answered quietly, “Mother, Frank is gonna help me get the proof on the man that betrayed me.”

 

“You’re not a marshal anymore can’t someone else take care of it.” stated Victoria even though she knew the answer.

 

“I was fully reinstated three days ago by Judge Gaffney.  Frank will get his badge tomorrow.  Frank’s the only other lawman I can trust to help with this.”

 

Victoria’s eyes moved to Frank’s and she received a nod of acknowledging the truth.  Tears trickled from her eyes.

 

Kneeling in front of Victoria, Heath clasped her hands.  “Mother, take Audra to Colorado to Uncle Jim’s ranch, you both’ll be safe there if something should go wrong.”

 

“Heath..”

 

Interrupting her words, Heath’s eyes filled with tears, his quivering voice pleading,  “I can’t take the chance of losing you like I lost my mama.  Please do this for me, Mother.  Please.”

 

That night Victoria and Audra boarded a train to Colorado and the next day, Frank and Heath left Stockton when night had fallen, bound for Carson City, Nevada.

 

 

 

Chapter 38

 

In the profession of the law, you need to be able to trust on your fellow lawman. Your lives are in each other’s hands.  In this lawless world, their profession is sometimes all which stands between a society of rules and a land of chaos.  In this world, citizens relied on the honesty and integrity of those in their profession. 

 

When a lawman went bad, chaos could rule and take over.  It was a blight on the profession, it was a brand of the worst kind, it left a stank odor on all those in the profession.

 

To Heath and Frank, their journey was one of utmost importance.  To these men who had lived and slept justice, Marshal Dan Nichols, was the most despicable type of human being. 

 

A man who sold out to the highest bidder.  A man who placed personal gain over honor.  A man who betrayed the trust of the badge and the people they had sworn to serve.

 

Three weeks later and the proof obtained in the form of a signed confession by Tom Freemont, bank deposits of money in several banks around Ely and the description of Nichols from the curator at the Sacramento museum.  The icing on the cake had been the signed confession from Tom Freemont, angry at his uncle, who seemed to have forgotten him.

 

Marshal Dan Nichols. 

 

The marshal who allowed the man who killed his mother to escape, who had assisted John Freemont escape throughout the years, who had handed Freemont the key to Heath’s hotel room and caused Marshal Fogarty’s death, who helped kidnap his little sister – this man was going down and Heath was gonna be there to hand out justice.

 

Staring at the stars, Heath smiled when his mind conjured up the faces of Nick and Jarrod.  His older brothers.  Each day, Heath realized how lucky he was in having the Barkley family standing by his side. 

 

Jarrod and Nick wanted to assist Heath in his mission.  While grateful for their enthusiasm and desire to help, Heath was hard pressed to convince his brothers to stay behind.

 

“Heath, I don’t know if I like the idea.” admitted Jarrod with a frown.

 

“How do you know you can trust Frank?” growled Nick.  “Maybe he’s bad too.”

 

“Nick, I can trust Frank.  Except for when I picked up Croker and Tom Freemont, he’s never been involved in my marshal work.  He’s steady and trustworthy.” drawled Heath.

 

“I’m steady and trustworthy!” snapped Nick turning and walking to stand in front of the french doors of the study.  Jarrod looked at Heath with an upraised eyebrow and shrugged before leaving the study.

 

Standing beside Nick, Heath squeezed the black vested shoulder.  “I know you’re steady and trustworthy, Nick.  That’s never crossed my mind.  This is gonna take someone, uh, well who knows the ropes.”

 

“Knows the ropes?” snorted Nick.  “Did you see how I lassoed that wild horse last week?  I know ropes.”

 

Heath rolled his eyes and put an arm over his brother’s shoulders.  His voice was soothing as one would talk to a child.  “That was the best throw I’ve ever seen, Nick.  Only my big brother could do that.  But Frank, well, he knows the dance we’re gonna have to do.  That’s all.”

 

Wiping his face, Nick said quietly, “Well hell, Heath.  You never said you wanted to dance.  Let’s go!”

 

Turning, Nick pulled his surprised little brother into his arms and started to waltz around the study. 

 

“Ouch!  That’s my foot, Nick.” laughed Heath, eyes running with tears.  “You’re more like a bull in a china shop.”

 

“Bull in a china shop?” asked Nick dipping Heath then dropping him on the floor.  “Can Frank do this dance?”

 

Laughing together, Nick pulled his little brother up and clapped him on the back.  Pouring a drink for them, he handed one to Heath and raised his glass.

 

Nick’s face changed as he spoke, “I’ll worry about you the whole time you’re gone, little brother.”

 

Saluting Nick, Heath smiled “I know Nick.  If I’m in trouble, you’ll be the first one I call on.”

 

Each man sipped his drink and then Nick groaned, “For pete’s sake Heath, if you get in trouble, call Frank first!  It’ll take me a week to get out there.”

 

“Nick, do you tango?” inquired Heath, an evil look in his eyes.

 

“Well..” replied Nick before running out of the study with Heath chasing after him.

 

Chuckling to himself, Heath walked back to camp and lay on his bedroll.  Tomorrow, retribution would be handed out in the form of an arrest.

 

 

 

Chapter 39

 

As the sun was rising, Heath and Frank dismounted their horses in small grove and crept towards the house on the edge of town.  Splitting up, Frank headed towards the back of the dwelling.  Heath jumped over the fence encasing the front yard and stepped onto the porch, testing the door and windows.  Hearing the call of the whippoorwill, he opened an unlocked window and stepped inside.

 

Scanning the lower level, he opened the backdoor and let Frank in.  No words were spoke between the two men, only gestures.  Climbing slowly up the stairs, Heath checked the rooms on the right and Frank the left.

 

Opening a door, Heath froze at the sight of John Freemont sleeping in a bed.  Motioning to Frank, he walked over and removed the gun from the holster hanging on the bed.  Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, he saw Frank motion in the room across from him.  Stepping out, he saw Nichols and nodded.

 

“U.S. MARSHALS!” shouted Heath.  “You’re both under arrest!”

 

Both men reached for guns that weren’t there.  Frank quickly handcuffed the stunned Nichols and walked into the hallway.

 

Freemont rolled to grab at the nightstand and Heath jumped on top of him.  The two rolled off the bed and onto the floor.  Knocking the pistol out of Heath’s hand, Freemont brought his knee up and took the wind out of Heath from the blow to the stomach. 

 

Jumping up, Freemont’s progress was stopped when Heath grabbed his legs and felled the big man on the hard floor.  Stepping back, Heath smiled when Freemont climbed to his feet. 

 

“This time it’s only you and me Freemont.”

 

Lunging, Freemont’s head was jolted back by a stiff right, his mouth left handing open by the left that followed to the body.  Staggering back against the wall, he rushed, pushed Heath back and landed on top of him.  Freemont landed two blows before his wrist was grabbed, pain shot up his arm and he cried out. 

 

Pushing the man to the side, Heath hauled him to his feet, ducking a left from the enraged Freemont.  Short, stiff blows bloodied the face of Freemont and a knee to his face knocked him to the floor where he lay still.

 

Heath wiped the blood off his face and looked at Frank.

 

Grinning, Frank replied, “Meet you outside.  Do you need help handcuffing him?”

 

“No, mother.” retorted Heath walking over and bending to retrieve his pistol. 

 

“HEATH!”

 

Turning quickly at the man rushing towards him, Heath grabbed Freemont when he lunged at him, propelling him out the window.  Frank rushed over and stood by his friend with Nichols in tow.

 

Freemont lay on the ground, his neck obviously broken. 

 

“Dammit!” growled Heath.  “Thanks, Frank.”

 

Frank clapped his back, “Let’s get this one over to Larkin and then head home.”

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

Two months later, Nick rode beside his brother to the place he’d been born.  Strawberry, California sure wasn’t much to look at.  Nothing was left in the town. 

 

Stopping in a field on the outside of town, the two brothers worked and cleaned up the small cemetery containing the three graves.  Weeds pulled, grass cut, flowers planted and headstones wiped of dirt.  Nick left his little brother there with a hug, giving him time to speak to the women who raised him.

 

An hour later, Nick was woken from his thoughts by the footsteps of his returning brother.

 

“All the prisoners have been taken care of.  Let’s head for home, Nick.”

 

 

 

The End