The Hand of Destiny

Chapters 1-17

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 1

Fate. Kismet. Coincidence.

Three words of explanation, three words to describe why some events may occur, the order they may occur in. Three small words with the ability to cause life changing events.

Fate. Kismet. Coincidence.

It wasn’t fate, kismet or coincidence which rained down on the solitary rider, it was the glorious California sunshine. The streams of light bathing the traveler with the warmth of the early morning. He’d been on the trail since before sun-up and would not be leaving the trail til he reached his destination.

The string of mares he lead followed along as if the group of animals were stepping in tune. Their coats shimmering under the rays of sunshine, their hooves pounding on the hard packed trail. The animals didn’t know where they were going but put their trust in the man before them.

His strong callused hands and soft voice, his cooing more familiar to them than their own animal language. The grooming of their coats, a delightful necessity the animals relished in. They welcomed a grooming as much as eating. It was made to be a part of them, a part of their routine, a part of the life the man was carving out for himself, his future was in his talent with horses.

His life consisted of simple pleasures. A watching of sunrises and sunsets. A small section of land at the base of the Sierra mountain range. A small cabin which appeared to be a shed compared to the barn and corral where he spent his time doing his work. The ranch far enough away from the town he grew up in but close enough to check up on the elder members of his family on a regular basis.

Some would call him a hermit, a man who kept the world around him at arm’s length, not needing human company. Some could call him eccentric in his desire to find solitude in a place where many would feel isolated and abandoned.

He called it home. He called it a haven from the cruelties of the human race. He called it his castle.

A place of quiet and serenity. A place which had calmed his raging soul, soothed his inner demons. It was his sanctuary.

Lonely? Yes, it could be lonely. A man was still a man with physical needs. He was a man who if necessary knew where to have his physical needs taken care of, when he needed to feel the release only a female body could give.

Love? No, that wasn’t love. That was a need. That was a quenching of a thirst. No, love was something more beautiful, more precious, more solid. He’d known it once, a long time ago in another place, another time.

Having grown up without any siblings and very few friends, he’d sometimes have to shove down the longing which would arise in him when he sat alone in his small home at night. Sometimes the desire for a family would almost rise up and choke him. If there was one thing he’d yearned for, asked for ever since he could remember…it was for the warmth of a family.

One day he knew he would have it. One day he would find the person who’d help him fill the empty space in his heart and soul. One day it would happen but until then, he spent his time training his horses, working with them, building up his reputation through word of mouth, through repeat customers.

For now, he could handle filling the requests for his well-trained animals. For now, he could keep building his revenue, allowing interest to grow on his deposited earnings while it sat in the bank at Pine Crest. For now, he was a one-man operation.

Stopping at a small stream, Heath Thomson climbed off his modoc and allowed the horses a respite from the trail. Bending down, the young blond man cupped his hands and brought water to his mouth, drinking his fill and dousing his head before he put his hat back on and lead his animals over.

Pulling the horses away from the water, he took his time and spoke with each one before working his way back to his mount.

“Well, Gal. You and me may have to expand quicker than we wanted if this ranch likes what they see. The foreman says they need quite a few horses.” drawled Heath, smiling at the shaking of the modoc’s head, before climbing back in the saddle.

Riding down the main street of Stockton, the blue eyes spotted the office of the local lawman and saw the badge on the man who exited the office.

“Sheriff, I was wondering if ya’ can give me directions to the Barkley ranch?” inquired Heath looking down at the man from his place on his horse, nodding his thanks before leisurely walking his horses through the town.

It wasn’t fate, kismet or coincidence which lead Heath Thomson down the trail to Stockton, California.

Perhaps, it was destiny.

Chapter 2

Gray eyes allowed the tears to spill from their corners before a small hand reached up to wipe them away. Today was the anniversary of the day responsible for darkening the lives of all who resided in the white pillared mansion.

It was a year, three hundred sixty five days since the hired guns of the railroad stolen him from his family, from her. A year and the wound in her heart was raw, still slowly oozing with loss.

Turning onto her side, she reached out with her right hand, pulling the pillow and hugging it against her. Wishing for the return of the warmth in the man she’d married at sixteen. Wishing he was there to smile and wink at her across the dining room table, hold her in his arms in their bedroom enjoying their entwined lives, their happiness and their love.

Some days, the pain threatened to overwhelm her in her moments of privacy, the moments away from the watchful eyes of her children, the eyes of the community. She knew she was late in rising, late in dressing and meeting this day. She knew her responsibilities as the head of the family. She knew her strength helped her children through a dark time, a time she put her own grieving to the side to help them find a light in their shattered souls.

Victoria Barkley knew behind the closed door of her bedroom was the place for her tears to show, away from those who needed her guidance, her strength. Today, she would breakfast with her family before seeking solitude with her memories, memories as fresh in her mind as the day they were created.

Throwing back the covers and sitting on the edge of the bed, the tiny silver haired lady ran her fingers over his picture on the bedside table, his smiling blue eyes welcomed her every morning and bid her adieu every night. Taking a deep breath, she wiped the last of her emotions away and walked to her closet, scanning the dresses hanging neatly in a row.

Jarrod finished buttoning his shirt, his eyes closed for a moment at the angry male voice he heard through his open window before the front door of the mansion slammed.

“DAMMIT, BARRETT! I TOLD YOU NO ONE GOES NEAR THAT STALLION!”

Taking a deep breath, Jarrod wondered if the crew knew what day it was, would they understand the volatility in their boss, his anger was a release of the pain in his heart. A pain all in the family felt and dealt with in ways they knew was right for them.

Tucking his shirt in his pants, the son who’d spent more years than his younger siblings by the man whose presence, values and morals reflected in all his children, the eldest son prayed the day would pass quickly. Jarrod Barkley, talented with a razor sharp mind for details, a man of eloquent speech in the court of law, prayed for the sunset which was hours away.

Audra wiped her tears from her eyes and ran a brush through her hair once more and took several breaths. The light blue eyes staring back at her were filled with sadness and yet determined. Determined to do whatever she could to help her mother and brothers through this day. Determined to be there as they were for her when she was drowning in despair after the vicious act of a year ago.

The only daughter of the family. She was a Barkley through and through. The blond possessed the same fiery spirit of the generations of Barkleys before her, a long line of people fighting, leading and building an existence in a world which was not civilized. She was comprised of the Barkley strength, the Barkley compassion, the Barkley caring. These were her gifts to those around her. These were the traits which lead the only daughter to use her name, her status for the good of the community, for the good of the children and the elderly.

Today was a day which would test her strength, stretching it to see how far it would go before it broke. Today was a day which would be forever seared in her memory, simply because of one small piece of lead ejected from a hollowed barrel faster than the eye could see. Today, she would be strong for those who needed her strength. Her family.

Nick glared at Barrett, hazel eyes pinning the man in his place before he turned and strode to the mansion, the slamming of the door sending a clear message to all those within earshot. Today was not a day to be on the wrong side of the boss’ wrath. Today was a day each man on the crew hoped they’d find themselves working anywhere but by his side.

Climbing the staircase and entering the water closet, Nick Barkley, the man who ran the Barkley ranch, who oversaw the orchards and the horse operations leaned on the counter of the wash basin and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

Sleep had been long in coming last night, his reluctance to wake up on this day and remember the sight of a year ago left him trembling with dread. Not that he didn’t see it everyday in his mind at one time or another…but somehow the knowledge it was the anniversary of the heinous act…made the pain too real again.

The memories seemed to be heightened today. The distinctive scene replaying again of when he’d found his father’s lifeless body, cold and still, covered in blood from the single bullet to the chest. Never again to work the ranch with him, never again to ride the range and discuss the future of the Barkley empire. Never again be the first to sample one of the new wines, greet the returning harvesters or spend time together on the trail.

Somehow, he’d always thought of his father as invincible, larger than life, taller than the clouds. Somehow, the son who’d seen death in the war between brothers, never imagined the older Barkley would leave him alone. Would ever leave his family behind.

Today was not a day he wanted to face.

Already in a foul mood when he’d risen, his hackles raised even further by the over eagerness of Barrett. Too eager to prove what he was capable of and Nick wiped a hand over his face. Barrett had gotten it in his head he was in line for the job of foreman if Duke was to retire but the youngest son of Thomas Barkley scowled.

While Barrett’s skills at the necessary tasks of the ranch were first rate, his lack of respect for others always bothered the dark haired son. Without respect for others, why would the man feel he was ready to fill the shoes of any foreman? In order to get respect, you had to give it. Barrett wasn’t giving and the lack of that trait was his downfall.

Taking one last look, Nick shook his head and took a deep breath before heading downstairs for the morning ritual. Breakfast with his family this day would be like no other of the past year.

Not since the hand of destiny changed all their lives with one swipe.

Chapter 3

The blue eyes in the youthful face sparkled with admiration as he rode steadily down the trail after entering through the outer gate bearing the name of the Barkley Ranch. The well-known brand displayed on both ends of the large sign.

Young in years, however, old in life’s experiences, Heath Thomson could see the evidence of dedication to the land, foresight of planning in the visible spreader dams, the stock he’d seen was healthy and thriving. The miles of fencing strong and steadfast. The grass plentiful and he could detect a wisp of hay in the air from somewhere, perhaps from a nearby field.

No sign of overgrazing, no sign of a ramrod spread. No, this was a thriving operation. This was a ranch run with care and hard work.

Topping a small hill in the trail, he stopped for a moment and whistled, his eyes widening at the ranch which was spread out before him. The buildings from this distance spoke of the same care, the same dedication. The house was the largest he’d ever seen and he nudged his modoc, the man and his horses sensed this was a special place.

Duke saw the rider making his way to the ranch and he smiled, rushing into the barn to get his boss. Coming out, Nick’s eyes studied the rider leisurely making his way to the ranch yard, hazel eyes scrutinizing the horses spread out behind him and he felt excitement rise up in, overriding the sadness and foul mood he was in.

Heath stopped Gal and dismounted, ground trailing the leather reins and holding the lead rope in his left hand, nodding and extending his right, “Mornin’ Mr. McCall.”

“Mr. Thomson.” greeted Duke with a wide smile, before turning the blond’s attention to the larger man beside him. “This is Nick Barkley. Nick runs the ranch.”

Taking the gloved hand in his, Heath nodded, “Mr. Barkley, nice to meet ya’.”

“You too, Mr. Thomson.” acknowledged Nick, staring into the blue eyes and puzzling, “Have we met somewhere before, Mr. Thomson?”

“No, I don’t believe so, Mr. Barkley.” drawled Heath with a shake of his head. “I know I’m a day early, hope that’s not a problem for ya’.”

Shaken out of his scrutiny of the younger man, Nick waved off the other’s concerns, “Course not. Those are some fine lookin’ pieces of horseflesh. Mind if I take a closer gander? In the corral?”

“Sure, Mr. Barkley.” agreed Heath following the two men to the corral, leading the horses in and taking off the ropes, allowing the animals some freedom. Turning and walking over to the corral, Heath leaned against the rails, talking to the black coated mare who came over to nuzzle his shoulder.

“How long it take you to train these three? Six months?” questioned Nick, his eyes filled with admiration as he studied the horses.

“Three weeks.” informed Heath jumping slightly at the startled bellow.

“THREE WEEKS!” shouted Nick, his loudness scaring the man and his horses. “THAT’S ALL?”

Heath nodded while Duke smiled and clapped his boss on the back, “Told you, Nick. I heard this was the right man, the miracles he could work with horses and they weren’t wrong!”

Nick knew the astonishment must have shown on his face, the disbelief as he stared into the blue eyes of the man standing in the corral. Neither gaze wavering from the other and Heath released his eyes when he was once again nudged by one of the animals, taking the moment to let the rancher gather his thoughts from the unexpected time frame, turning his back and running a hand over the velvet coat, murmuring to the equine.

Nick watched as the other two horses stopped when the blond spoke quietly to the horse in front of him, amazed at the effect the younger man who appeared to be around twenty, had on the animals, the trust they showed him spoke volumes for the type of person he was.

Lowering himself into the corral, Nick ran his hand over the coat of the appaloosa, his trained eye looking for flaws and not seeing any. Taking off his hat, he ran a hand through his thick black hair and smiled.

“Three weeks, Duke. Boy, I wish we’d known about you sooner!” exclaimed Nick, puzzled at the cold look which came into the blue eyes for a brief moment before it was forced out and calm once again settled into the mirrors.

Duke saw the flash of emotion and suddenly felt his stomach turn over, he’d seen such an expression before and the foreman took a closer look at the stranger before them. Nick opened the gate and motioned to the wrangler, waiting til he left the corral before closing the gate.

“Name your price for these three, Mr. Thomson.” suggested Nick, not blinking at the price asked before extending his hand which was taken, the deal sealed.

“I’m glad you like the horses. You can just wire the funds to the Pine Crest bank, Mr. Barkley.” informed Heath quietly.

“Consider it done.” stated Nick firmly before smiling. “How about a drink and then we can discuss how many more horses we need and how many you can get for us?”

“Coffee would be fine, Mr. Barkley.” nodded Heath, whistling at Gal who trotted over, allowing her master to tie her to the corral rail. Nick shook his head, his eyes filled with wonder at the talent the man seemed to possess.

Walking beside the blond to the house, Nick looked when the man beside him stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide with appreciation at the stallion in the other corral. Nick glanced towards the corral and tilted his head, catching the brown eyes of Duke who nodded.

“That’s one mighty fine lookin’ horse, ya’ got there Mr. Barkley.” whispered Heath tearing his eyes away after a moment. “First rate, I’d venture to say.”

“Yeah, he is but we haven’t been able to break him yet. He sure is ornery.” snorted Nick turning and walking to the corral, the blond in step beside him. Nick hid a smile at the excitement oozing off the younger man who climbed up on the top rail and slid into the corral before the gloved hand could stop him.

“Thomson, he’s already tried to stomp three of my men!” warned Nick nervously, his words stopped by a quiet reply. “Broke the arm of another by throwing him out of the corral.”

“I’ve no doubt about that, Mr. Barkley.” whispered Heath, his eyes not leaving the red muscled animal, the horse’s edginess and nervousness making the animal skittish.

Taking three steps into the corral, the blond’s attention was focused on the animal across the clearing, his voice low, his words soothing. All sounds were drowned out, the concentration and focus of the man in the corral mesmerizing the humans watching, even stopping the skittish movements of the seventeen hands high horse.

All eyes were on the pair in the corral, the calm demeanor, the steady nerves of the man who’d spent a half hour in the same area with the red devil. Suddenly, the young man smiled and turned on his heel, stopping just inside the corrals seeing the widening in the eyes of the rancher and foreman at the charging horse coming up behind him.

Nick’s eyes widened with fear then blinked in disbelief at the calmness in the blue eyes staring at him, the blue eyes which winked and a lop sided grin appeared on the man’s face. The horse stopped its charge at the last second, turning and running around the corral. Blue eyes never left hazel eyes and Nick Barkley again felt in his gut he’d met this man before, somewhere, someplace.

“Are you crazy?” retorted Nick when he’d gotten over the tense moment.

Smirking, Heath shrugged, “Ya’ wouldn’t be the first to ask, Mr. Barkley.”

Turning to look back at the stallion, Heath glanced over into the hazel eyes, “This one is special, Mr. Barkley. If you break his spirit, he’ll be no good. He can be trained but it’ll be a challenge. He doesn’t like to be manhandled. This one won’t be broken through normal means. If he is, you may as well put a bullet in him, now cause you’ll lose what makes him special.”

Frowning, Nick studied the stallion, the animal was of the finest quality but if he couldn’t be broken, he was of no use to the ranch. The two men headed into the house, entering the kitchen where Silas greeted the stranger and poured coffee for both men. Eating bear signs and drinking coffee, the deal was sealed with a handshake.

Heath politely declined the offer to stay for lunch, anxious to be miles down the road before night fell. Nodding and promising to be back within two months, the young wrangler left the ranch behind, a smile on his face and his mind filled with plans of the upcoming work.

Halfway between the ranch yard and the gate marking the boundary of the Barkley lands, he reined in Gal, his eyes bulging at the sight of the runaway horse and the woman holding on for dear life.

Letting out a yell, Gal flattened her neck, her legs quickly eating up the space between them and the horse in a full out run. The small black horse suddenly jumped a deadfall, the rider falling to the ground and rolling before lying still.

Jumping off Gal, Heath rushed over running his hands over the arms and legs of the lady dressed in black riding gear, her silver hair falling out of its comb from the unexpected fall. Turning her gently onto her back, the blond took off his bandanna and dabbed at the cut over her eye which was quickly turning into a large bruise.

Stirring under the pressure to the painful area, Heath saw her eyelids flutter and he assured the older woman, while he held the cloth to her head, trying to stop the bleeding. “Just lie still, now. You’ll be fine.”

“Tom…Tom?” whispered the woman, her lids half open.

“No, ma’am. My name’s Heath.” corrected the blond not liking the paleness of her skin.

Dazed gray eyes filled with confusion before the lids closed, her whisper puzzling him.

“Stay…Tom…please.”

Chapter 4

Heath frowned at the weak whisper from the tiny woman, her body collapsing limp on the ground.

“Ma’am? Ma’am?” called Heath his words not waking her into consciousness.

Her face had paled from the loss of blood, the blow to her head sending a quiver of fear through the blond. Jumping to his feet, he retrieved his canteen and a cloth from his saddlebag, kneeling by her side he washed the blood away from the gash, showing the three inch opening. Her breathing wasn’t steady and rhythmic, it was shaky and uneven.

Working quickly, he cut the cloth and folded it into a pad, placing it on the still bleeding wound and tore a long strip of cloth from the bottom of his shirt which he yanked out from his pants. Binding the padded compress tightly in place, he gently wiped the remaining red off her cheek. Reaching down with a shaky hand, he undid the top two buttons of her shirt, releasing the tight collar from its place while murmuring an apology for the ungentlemanly act.

The petite body started trembling and he undid his bedroll from behind his saddle, gently covering the small woman and running his hand lightly over her hair.

“Ya’ll be fine, ma’am.” soothed Heath, unsure if the words were reaching her. “I’m take ya’ to the Barkleys, ma’am. I imagine that must be where ya’ came from.”

Hearing the whistled command, Gal moved to her master, reins trailing on the ground. Putting his arm under the small shoulders, he raised her upper body, the blanket falling down to her lap and he put his right arm under her knees. The sound of horses reached him and he stopped, laying her back on the ground. The arrival of two men on horses bearing the Barkley brand was a relief and the blond stood beside his unconscious ward.

“Hey, mister, this lady..” stated Heath gesturing and looking down towards his patient was blindsided by the attack.

“That’s Mrs. Barkley.” snarled Barrett, lashing out when the stranger’s eyes were downcast, his right sending the blond flying backwards and he followed his punch with a kick to the side of the fallen, stunned stranger. “You bastard! What are you a pervert?”

Heath’s jaw exploded in pain and he was catapulted backwards, his eyes seeing only stars and his mind was thrust into a fog. Rolling and pushing himself to his knees, the blond shook his head and gasped from the boot caving in his side, his stomach lurched into his throat and he felt the pain in his ribs.

Dazed and shocked the younger man was unable to protect himself from the steel hard hands and he was pushed into oblivion from the viciousness of the attack, laying still on the ground while Barrett stood over him, sneering.

“That’ll teach you to touch our boss’ mother. Lucky for you, it was me and not one of her sons.”

Recently hired onto the Barkley ranch, Tim Jenkins, age eighteen was sick at the beating the loud mouth braggart of the crew doled out. He was sickened by the blood on the man’s face from the attack which was over in minutes. He’d never seen such a display of brutality and he stumbled over to where the mother of the Barkley family lay.

“Mr. Barrett, we’d best get Mrs. Barkley to the ranch.” stammered Tim, his eyes wide in his pale face.

Tearing his eyes away from the stranger, Barrett nodded, “I’ll hand her up to you. You take her and I’ll tie this mongrel into his saddle. We don’t want him escaping before we get him to the sheriff.”

Tim nodded, the lump in his throat wouldn’t leave. The young man had seen the bandage on the head of the older woman and he wondered if Barrett had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Not liking his riding partner, Tim Jenkins knew deep inside he was afraid of the man who appeared to have no shred of decency, no compassion for human life and a streak of viciousness wider than the crevice in Arizona.

Carefully holding the unconscious woman in his arms, the young hand nudged his horse and started for the mansion, glancing backwards and seeing Barrett following, leading the stranger who was tied to the other horse.

Nick and Duke were talking in front of the mansion, their eyes looking over to the stallion in the corral.

“Let’s leave him for now and when Thomson brings the horses, maybe he’ll consider taking the time to work with the stallion.” suggested Nick.

“MR. BARKLEY!” shouted Tim, his calls turning both men towards him.

Running over to the horse, Nick gasped at the sight of his mother in the hand’s arms, “MOTHER! WHAT HAPPENED?”

Duke took one look and shouted for someone to fetch the doctor.

“I don’t know. This stranger was standing beside her when we found them.” informed Tim handing the tiny woman down to the hands of her son. “Barrett beat the crap outta him. He’s bringing him tied to his horse.”

“WHAT!” shouted Nick and Duke, their faces turning furious then turning pale at the sight of the beaten wrangler tied to his modoc.

“THAT’S THE WRANGLER FROM STRAWBERRY!” exclaimed Nick, looking down at his mother in his arms and back at the unconscious blond.

Duke and Nick both saw the bandage tied around her head of silver hair, the binding matching the blue of the shirt on the young man. Duke cut the rope off, gently pulling the blond off his horse, his eyes burning with anger at the beating the man endured, the moan of pain coming from him. Holding up the end of his shirt, Duke snarled.

“BARRETT, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!”

“I’ll deal with you later!” growled Nick, hazel eyes filled with contempt for the hand who was unsure of why he seemed to be the bearer of bad news instead of a hero. “Jenkins, help Duke bring Thomson into the house.”

Nodding, Tim gladly helped the foreman carry the blond upstairs and placed him on a bed in the guest room indicated by Nick. Duke sent the hand for water and towels knowing Nick and Silas, the houseman would care for the Barkley matriarch.

Nick tenderly laid his mother on the bed, Silas placed extra pillows on the bed and covered her with a blanket. Her face was pale and still, a stark contrast to the red they saw which had soaked into the compress when they removed the binding, the two men sighing in relief at the bleeding which had stopped.

“Missus Barkley needs da doctor.” stated Silas wringing a cloth and softly wiping the face of his employer, the small strong dark hands wrinkled with time cleaned the area of the wound with a feather like touch.

“One of the men went for him.” said Nick, his words unusually quiet, the fear could clearly be seen in his eyes.

Silas reached over and placed a hand on the large shoulder of the child he’d helped to raise. “Mr. Nick’s good ta bleedin’ stopped. Yes’m real good.”

Holding one of his mother’s hands, Nick nodded and glanced over to the keeper of the family. “Silas, could you see if Duke needs help with Mr. Thomson? Then let me know how he is. He’s the one who stopped the bleeding of mother’s wound. All he got was a beating for his help.”

“Yes’m, Mr. Nick.” said Silas, shaking his head at the guilt ridden voice of the youngest son before leaving the room.

Chapter 5

Self preservation was slowly waking in the unconscious man, a sense of danger rose through the fog of pain, through the dark curtain hovering in his mind. He’d endured through impossible odds in his past, sometimes his life saved when his inner voice spoke, shivering his soul and sending red warning flags up.

The inner voice had saved him from a deadly cave in as a child working to help his mama put food on the table. It saved him during the dreadful experience of war where he utilized his uncanny skill with a rifle to eliminate leaders on the side of the enemy, by sending a shiver up his spine saving him twice from deadly ambushes. His inner voice had served him well over the years and it was screaming inside of him now.

It happened in a blink of an eye and caught both the foreman and hand offguard as they tended to the wounds on the battered blond. Duke would have never thought it possible the injured man could move with such strength and agility.

The previously still blond moved from a prone position on the bed to become a knife wielding wild-eyed cornered mountain lion. The long bladed knife appeared from nowhere slicing through the sleeve of Duke’s shirt drawing pain and blood from the non-lethal cut. Only Tim Jenkins’ startled backwards yank on his boss’ vest at the flash of steel saved the foreman’s life that day.

Nick pulled Silas back into the room when the shouts were heard coming from down the hallway and he hurried to the guest room, stopping and staring at the picture before him.

“Easy now, son.” said Duke calmly, the blond weaving on his feet shook his head and kept his eyes on the two men in the room, the knife held firm in his right hand. “Put the knife down, Thomson. Let us get you cleaned up.”

Nick held his breath, afraid to move from his spot in the doorway, afraid a wrong move would set the cornered man off. His eyes not moving from the bruised face, the blue eyes glazed with pain and confused. Duke quietly urged the blond to sheath the knife. The wrangled seemed to be moving further into the corner of the room, his hand reaching up and wiping the trickle of blood off his cheek.

“Son, put the knife down.” stated Duke firmly.

“I..ain’t..nobody’s..son.” hissed Heath, his jaw clenched against the throbbing, pulsating pain, his eyes blinking rapidly and he put his left hand up on the wall to steady himself.

Three sets of eyes watched as the confusion lifted and the blond looked at the knife he had in his hand, as if seeing it for the first time. Looking up, the blue eyes filled with regret and he raised his arm, the knife finding itself back in its rightful home under his vest.

Shaking his head, the blond sank to his knees on the floor, his hands clenched into fists, his arm coddling his side, the tormented whisper tearing into Nick’s heart. “My…horse…need…to…go.”

“Thomson, you can’t leave.” protested Nick moving into the room and kneeling in front of the blond. “You’re hurt! You helped my mother and you’re not going anywhere! The doc will be here soon.”

Terrified blue eyes stared into the hazel eyes and he fought the shakiness in his whole body from the trauma, stammering against the pain, his breaths starting to come in gasps. “Can’t…coulda…killed..’em...not…safe.”

Nick caught the blond as he slid sideways losing the fight he was in. Reaching under the tan blood-stained vest, Nick handed the knife to Duke and together the blond was placed back on the bed. Patting the unconscious man down, Nick looked over at the white faced hand and sighed, “Jenkins, what you saw in this room stays in this room. Got it?”

Nodding, the young hand swallowed and met his boss’ eyes. “Yes, Mr. Barkley.”

“Duke, do what you can for him.” requested Nick, running his hand through his hair as he studied the man lying on the bed, sending the hand downstairs for some more water.

Waiting til Jenkins left the room, Nick asked quietly, “What the hell was that?”

Shaking his head, Duke frowned, “Don’t know, Nick, but it sure scared the hell outta him when he realized what he’d done. Not to mention taking bout twenty years off my life. How’s Mrs. Barkley?”

Fighting the helplessness he felt, Nick sighed, “She hasn’t woken yet. Her wound isn’t bleeding anymore. I sure like to know what happened.”

“Me, too.” agreed Duke, his hands finishing the doctoring he could before he stood and stated, “Two cracked ribs, too many bruises and a cut on his cheek. Looks like Barrett tied to kick him into next week.”

Lifting the blond’s shirt, Nick scowled at the dark bruises already formed on each side of the slim body. Pulling the blanket back up, the rancher sighed.

“When Jenkins gets back, Duke, find out exactly what happened.” ordered Nick, the foreman nodding before turning his attention back to the younger man, studying his face and wondering, leaving the room to return to his mother’s side.

Chapter 6

Jarrod and Audra rushed into the mansion with Dr. Merar following their flight up the grand staircase after the foreman directed them to the bedroom of their mother. Howard nodded to Nick, the youngest son’s face full of worry and concern as he stepped away from the bedside of his mother, placing the tiny hand on the bed.

“Nick, what happened?” asked Howard lifting the compress and eyeing the wound before lifting each of her eyelids.

“Not sure, Dr. Merar. She was brought in this way and hasn’t woken up.” stated Nick quietly, his reduced volume letting those in the room know how upset he was. Jarrod frowned at the lack of information.

“Who brought Mother in, Nick? Didn’t you ask?” questioned Jarrod firmly, the disbelief in his words snapping the hazel eyes upward.

“How could I ask? Barrett beat him!” snapped Nick. “He’s unconscious in one of the guest rooms!”

Holding up a hand to ward off the angry glare of his brother, the attorney took a deep breath and calmly replied, “Nick, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m only wanting to know what happened.”

Audra sat on the side of the bed, her eyes moving between the three men, two locked in a confrontation and the other busily performing his profession.

“Start from the beginning, little brother.” suggested Jarrod, placing a hand on the broad shoulder and squeezing it. “First, who’s he?”

Running a hand through his hair, Nick sighed, “Heath Thomson, the wrangler from Strawberry. He was a day early and brought three horses with him. We made a deal and then he left. Bout an hour later, Jenkins comes in with Mother and Barrett’s got Thomson tied to his horse. Both Mother and Thomson were unconscious.”

“So, this Thomson did this to Mother?” exclaimed Audra, her hand flying to her mouth, the tears spilling out onto her cheeks.

“No, Audra. Jenkins said Thomson was standing beside Mother when they rode up. While he was looking down at Mother, Barrett attacked and beat him. Thomson didn’t have a chance cause he wasn’t looking.” informed Nick, his hazel eyes darkening with anger, the sucker punching of this man and the subsequent beating was the last act the hand would perform on Barkley range.

“Jenkins said he didn’t even give Thomson a chance to defend himself. When Barrett handed her up, Jenkins saw the bandage wrapped around Mother’s head and she had a blanket on her.”

Howard shook his head as he listened while he readied his thread and needle.

“So until Thomson or Mother wake up, we won’t know how she came to be like this.” stated Jarrod with a deep breath. “What was Barrett thinking?”

“I don’t know, Jarrod.” growled Nick. “Whatever it was, it’s no excuse! I’ve had enough of that man. I should’ve fired him long ago. There’s no human decency in him. Jenkins was scared to death from the viciousness in Barrett. I kicked him off the ranch, sent him packing.”

Jarrod nodded in agreement and patted the strong back of his brother, leaving his hand on the black vest. Howard looked up into the eyes of the children gathered around the bedside.

“Your Mother has a mild concussion and this deep laceration. As you know, head wounds can bleed substantially. It’s a good thing for Victoria, this Thomson fellow was there to put on this compress. Your mother is not a young woman and could have bled to death if she hadn’t been found quickly.” explained Howard, the idea paling the faces of the three children, the idea of such a thing happening on this particular day was especially sickening.

“Will she be alright?” asked Audra, wiping her tears from her eyes.

“I believe she’ll be fine, Audra.” reassured Howard with a smile. “I’m going to stitch up the wound and cover it while she’s unconscious. If she were awake, I wouldn’t be able to give her any pain medicine cause of the concussion.”

In unison, the three children swallowed the lumps in their throats, the fear in their eyes matching each others. Howard calmly suggested the three leave and send in Silas, not sure how they would react to witnessing the stitches being put into the forehead of their mother, the woman who held her family together, the foundation to their base.

“Why don’t you see if Mr. Thomson’s awake? I’ll see him after I’m done with your mother.” stated Howard firmly, watching as the three hesitantly left the room and Silas entered after a few minutes from the guest room where he’d been staying with the unsung hero of the day.

Standing in the hallway, Audra shivered and hugged her arms across her chest, her bottom lip trembling. Pulling her into his arms, Nick let her cry into his shirt, her tears seemed never ending and at last the sobs stopped.

“Mother’ll be fine, honey.” whispered Nick, wiping the tears off his sister’s face. “She’s tough or didn’t you know that?”

Giggling, Audra nodded, “Tougher than nails.”

“That’s right, little sister!” agreed Jarrod pushing a stray blond hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you go to the water closet and get yourself pulled together? Mother would be very upset if she saw you had red puffy eyes and been crying. Okay?”

“Okay.” sighed Audra, placing a kiss on both their cheeks. “I’ll be right back.”

Waiting til she entered the water closet and closed the door, Nick stopped Jarrod before he entered the guest room.

“Pappy, don’t do anything to startle him.” warned Nick quietly. “I got a feeling that boy’s been through some rough times.”

Puzzled, Jarrod studied the face of his brother before nodding, then adding with a smirk, “You’re the loud one in the family, Nick. Are you planning on toning it down too?”

Rolling his eyes, Nick snorted, “Believe me when I tell you, I don’t want to yank this tiger’s tail. I’ve seen what’s on the end of it already.”

The hazel eyes seemed to be a mix of emotion before they pulled away from his and Nick opened the door, standing in shock.

“THOMSON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING BOY?”

Heath’s head snapped up from where he was standing against the dresser, the short four steps having sapped his strength. Blue eyes met hazel eyes, the fury in them lashing outward.

“I…ain’t…your…boy!” snarled Heath, turning towards Barkley and the man who stood by his side. “Don’t…call...me…that!”

Nick stared in wonder at the battered man, the shaking in his body evident from the lack of power in his legs, the blond standing only by sheer grit and determination. Hazel eyes filled with admiration and he nodded.

“I’m sorry, Thomson.” apologized Nick sincerely. “Dr. Merar is here and he’ll be in shortly to patch you up.”

Shaking his head, Heath knew his mistake when the room started to spin, he was powerless to hold himself up and two strong hands caught his arms. Jarrod stepped to Nick’s side and helped him lay the blond back on the bed. Heath’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his jaw clenched against the pain, taking shallow breaths the pain of expanding his lungs to full capacity overwhelming.

Sitting on the bed, Nick watched Jarrod take a seat on the other side before inquiring, “Mr. Thomson, do you know what happened to our Mother?”

“Runaway..horse.” whispered Heath. “Small…black…she..fell..off.”

The lids of the young man opened slightly and Nick patted the arm closest to him. “Thank you for taking care of our Mother. I’m sorry for what our hand did to you. That shouldn’t have happened.”

The eyes closed, the pain ridden voice replied, “Not…your…fault...Barkley.”

Chapter 7

“Your…mother?” whispered Heath suddenly.

“Doc says she has a concussion and is alive thanks to you.” informed Jarrod who found himself being scrutinized by puzzled half opened blue eyes and he smiled, holding out his hand, “Jarrod Barkley, attorney at law mostly, sometimes a rancher, but always an all around good guy.”

Nick rolled his eyes while Heath shook the extended hand and offered a lop-sided grin which faded when his breathing shot pains through his side. Closing his eyes, he clenched his jaw, not seeing the concerned look pass between the two dark haired brothers.

Nick opened his mouth, the words never leaving when the physician appeared in the doorway and walked to the bed.

“Afternoon, young man.” smiled Howard taking hold of the nearest wrist. “Dr. Howard Merar.”

“Heath…Thomson.” offered the blond, blue eyes watching the man of medicine with suspicion before shifting to the hazel eyes at the end of the bed, not sure why he felt the rancher would ensure all was fine.

The look in the blue eyes reminded Nick of a mouse cornered by a cat and he felt a sudden urge to reassure the injured younger man. “Dr. Merar is the best doctor in Stockton. Right, Jarrod?”

Jarrod looked at Nick and teased, “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of our only physician, little brother.”

“He should be with all the fixing I’ve done on Nick. Especially his hard head.” replied Howard winking at his patient before running his hands down the slim body of the blond and frowning at the stark look of pain which flew into the blue eyes. “Two fractured ribs, Mr. Thomson.”

The fist clenched the bedsheet and he fought to control his breathing, keeping it shallow. Howard’s gentle, knowledgeable fingers probed over the rest of his chest and stomach, satisfied he didn’t feel anything else injured. Opening the eyelids fully, he scrutinized the light blue eyes.

“Dizzy?” asked Howard, receiving a slight nod. “Mild concussion, I’d say along with a wide variety of bruises which will make you very colorful and the cut on your cheek. It shouldn’t need stitching though.”

“Bind..the..ribs..I..gotta..ride.” said Heath through clenched teeth.

Shaking his head, Howard sighed while Nick slapped his hand on the footboard. “Listen bo…uh, Thomson. You can’t ride in your condition.”

“He’s right, Mr. Thomson.” agreed Howard keeping the blue eyes locked onto his and his words firm. “You could become dizzy and fall off your horse or you could push one of those fractured ribs through your lung. Either way, young man, you’d be worse off than you are now.”

Frustration and confusion were abound in the blue pools, the tightening of the jaw this time was from determination not pain and Jarrod tilted his head slightly.

“Mr. Thomson, are you expected somewhere?” questioned Jarrod, then offering. “We could send a wire to notify your family, if you’d like. They wouldn’t be worried then. Or wherever you need to send word.”

“No...wire…in…Strawberry.” replied Heath reaching up to rub his eye, afraid to stay and yet afraid to ride, not wanting to injure himself further but afraid of again waking in a confused state of mind.

Nick moved to the side of the bed and offered, “Why don’t you let doc bind your ribs and give you some pain medicine? Tomorrow, if he gives the okay, I’ll take you back to Strawberry in the surrey.”

“Too..much..trouble.” protested Heath.

“FOR PETE’S SAKE!” snapped Nick flinging his hands in the air, his sudden movement startling Heath who jumped and held onto his ribs, gasping in pain.

“NICK!” shouted Jarrod and Dr. Merar in unison, glaring at the rancher.

“Gees, I’m sorry Thomson.” apologized Nick, his eyes filled with worry.

Laying back onto the pillows, Heath waved off his apology and offered in his pain, “’m..jumpy..like..old…woman.”

Chuckling, Nick shook his head and took a deep breath before trying again. “Listen, you lent our mother a helping hand. Let us give you one now. We’d like to repay you for saving her. Okay?”

Jarrod watched the ponderance in the blue eyes and he felt a moment of deja vue

from the expressive orbs, as if he’d seen them somewhere before. Heath sighed and nodded, rolling his eyes at the physician who was mumbling about stubborn cowboys.

Nick winked at the young man, his smile wide and full of relief. Howard poured a dose of laudanum and handed it to his scowling patient who reluctantly drank it down. Jarrod hid a smile behind his hand, the blond’s scowl reminded him of Nick when he was a patient.

Howard smiled his approval at the taking of the pain medicine and then glanced over to the brothers. “I can bind his ribs myself. You’d best check on your mother, boys.”

Jarrod nodded while Nick hesitated, unsure til he looked into the blue eyes and a slight nod sent him out of the room. Howard walked over and shut the door, returning to the bed.

“I’ll need to take your shirt off completely, Mr. Thomson.” stated Howard quietly, his sensitive fingers having already felt the scars on the young man’s back. “I didn’t think you’d want an audience.”

The pain medicine was working quickly and Heath sighed, his words slightly tinged with drowsiness, “’preciate..it..doc.”

The vest and knife sling removed before the blood stained shirt. The scarring on the back of the younger man shaking the physician who thought he’d seen almost all of the cruelties one person could inflect on another. Working quickly, Howard bound the injured ribs and taped the binding in place.

“Do you have another shirt?” inquired Howard.

“Saddlebag.” whispered Heath, gesturing to the leather bags the Barkley foreman had set on the dresser and finding it harder to keep his eyes open from the strong medicine. Taking out another blue shirt, the physician helped the blond into it before buttoning it and propping his patient up against more pillows.

Drowsy blue eyes filled with thanks and Heath grasped the older man’s hand, “Thanks.”

Howard patted the hand and smiled, “You rest now, young man. I’ll be back to check on you later. No riding, no leaving this bed without help.”

The words and instructions not heard as the medicine pulled the blond down into sleep, his head rolling to the side as his body relaxed. Howard checked his pulse once more before closing his bag and opening the door, almost walking into Nick who appeared in the doorway.

“He should sleep til later on tonight. Keep him in bed, Nick, if you can.” instructed Howard. “I’ll be in your mother’s room if you need anything.”

“Okay, doc.” stated the rancher, entering and stopping beside the bed, pulling the blanket up further on the sleeping form, wondering at the urge of protectiveness and wondering how this boyish looking young man could have been the knife wielding haunted being of a couple hours ago.

Chapter 8

Jarrod sat in the victorian chair, a compliment to the rest of the furniture in the room, his eyes never leaving the pale face of the tiny woman, her complexion drawn dramatically from the lamp light. Gone was the piece of blue shirt which held the compress in place against her now black and blue forehead. In its place was a headband of white covering the ten small stitches laying just below the silver hairline.

It’d taken his smooth and persuasive way with words to get his youngest siblings and their faithful family friend to rest only two hours before. The time was slowly approaching the witching hour and the eldest son’s eyes were filled with dread.

Despair griped him from the inside and the man who’d stand in a courtroom armed with only his convictions and his love of the law, condemning the actions of the dregs of society as he stared into the evilness of their souls, wiped the tears from his eyes with a shaky hand.

The waiting, the constant checking for movement from the woman lying on the bed was tightening the band around his chest, his arms hugged himself against the pain there, the invisible pain caused by love. A pain you couldn’t see but the feel of it was worse than being trampled by a hundred horses. It was a pain which left you shuddering from the torment, weak from its grip.

Jarrod Barkley, eldest son of Thomas and Victoria Barkley, was scared to death.

What would they do if the woman who’d always been strong never woke up? How could they go on knowing her eyes may be closed forever on the anniversary of her husband’s death? Was this the future they were to live with? Was this the future for their small family? Was this the legacy, the destiny they would be saddled with?

His body shivered from the fear which caressed his spine and darkened his eyes. He leaned forward picking up the small hand in his own. Holding it to his cheek, he closed his eyes and again sent his prayer upwards, requesting strength to help his mother, his family.

Keeping hold of her hand, the man who’d emerged at the top of his graduating class, the man who rubbed elbows with the richest man of society, the politicians and movers shaping the country around them, this man was not to be found in the feminine bedroom. In his place was the first born son, the baby who emerged first from her womb, the inner child in the man rose up and replaced the spirit of the man, leaving a child whose blue eyes cried tears for the parent he was desperately afraid of losing.

It was a subtle change, a small movement that reached through his fear and lifted his head. Through the drops in his eyes, through his reduced vision he saw it and felt it. A small movement in the tiny hand proceeding the slight rippling under her eyelids.

Standing and wiping his eyes, Jarrod leaned over his mother, his strong fingers soft as a rose petal caressed her cheek, his voice low and soothing.

“Open your eyes, Mother.” urged the child, his pleading reaching into her hazy world and pushing the curtain aside.

She’d never known such pain, not even in childbirth had she experienced such an overwhelming and weak state. The cracking of the voice calling her made her find the strength from deep inside, the strength of a mother when she knew her child needed her above all else. It was the love, the need to place her children above all else which opened her eyes, revealing the pained and confused gray corneas which sluggishly moved around the room, searching in vain.

“Tom?” whispered Victoria through her pain, searching for the man of her dreams. “Tom?”

“Shhh. Mother, you’re going to be fine.” assured Jarrod, sighing in relief and holding onto her hand.

“Where’s…father?” whispered Victoria, moving her eyes to glimpse the shocked blue eyes of her son. “I..saw..him.”

Jarrod swallowed the new lump of fear, wondering if the town physician’s statement about damage to her brain was causing this delusion.

“Mother, father’s gone.” said Jarrod quietly. “Remember?”

Staring at her son, Victoria felt the loss again which seemed to be forever inside her since that day and she felt a tear escape her eye, trickle down her cheek. “He..found..me…looked…same..we..first..met.”

“I’m sorry, Mother.” choked Jarrod, his eyes filling with tears along with hers. “That was Heath Thomson from Strawberry. He saved you, Mother.”

Jarrod wiped the tears from his mother’s cheeks, his hand stopping when she whispered before closing her eyes again, “Same…eyes.”

Blue eyes focused in thought, bringing forth the nagging memory in his consciousness, the nagging sense of connection he’d felt with a stranger. He saw nothing except the man who lay asleep down the hall, the face of the young man and his mind focused on the blue eyes.

The gasp in the room from the eldest son went unheard by his parent and the attorney fell heavily into the chair, his stunned mind taking away the strength in his legs.

“My god!” whispered the man with the steel trap mind. “It can’t be!”

Chapter 9

The memories whirled in the mind of the first born, memories of so long ago, a time of darkness in the mansion, a time when he’d been afraid of the words, the coldness between the two people he revered as a child.

Jarrod looked down and realized his hands were trembling, he clasped them together and closed his eyes, putting his elbows on his knees and holding his entwined hands to his forehead.

Almost twenty years ago and he could still remember the frightening battles between his mother and father, the bitterly cold words and the final ultimatum his young ears heard behind their closed bedroom door.

“You will sell our interest in the mine.”

“Victoria, that mine is generating a lot of profit for us. Profit for our future and the future of our boys.”

“There will be no future if you don’t do as I say.”

“What are you saying, Vic? I told you it was a mistake, I didn’t know who I was cause of the injuries! Check with the doctor in Strawberry, he’ll tell you.”

“I don’t want you to set foot in that town again!”

“Victoria, I love you not her! Be reasonable!”

“You choose, Thomas. The mine in Strawberry or your family.”

Taking several deep breaths to calm himself, Jarrod shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. Even at the tender age of seven, he knew which commandment his father had broken. Whether his father acted, knowingly or unknowingly, the knowledge had terrified him as a young boy, the tears in his mother’s eyes saddened him deeply and angered him.

It had taken a long time before their family was back to living in an environment filled with love and trust. A long time in which he’d experienced the fear of losing all he knew because of some unseen person in another town. A woman who as a child tormented his dreams, taking his father away from him and leaving his mother heartbroken. The dreams not fading until after Audra was born and the love between his parents shone in their eyes as they looked at each other, the daughter a symbol of the refound love and trust between them.

A weak moan from the bed thrust the first born back to his adulthood and he leaned over the bed, “I’m going to get Dr. Merar, Mother. I’ll be right back.”

Rushing out of the room, he knocked on the door to a second guestroom and the door opened within seconds. Howard saw the distressed look on Jarrod’s face and pushed past him, entering the room of the petite woman. Finding her eyes slightly opened, Howard glanced over towards the attorney who seemed to be in shock and then turned his attention back downwards.

Nick appeared in the doorway having heard the rushing of feet in the hallway and stumbled to the bed after his eyes fixed on the pale face of his brother. He let out a deep sigh of relief at the open eyes looking up at the physician.

“Rest now, Victoria.” instructed Howard after giving her a drink of water to moisten her dry throat and mouth. “Sleep is the best thing for you.”

Unable to keep her eyes open, Victoria feel back into a healing sleep, the picture of blue eyes in a young face appearing in her dreams. Nick placed a kiss on his mother’s cheek as she lay sleeping, hazel eyes spilling tears of happiness which he wiped away. His smile wide at the doctor’s assurance of a full recovery, the head injury leaving no lasting aftereffects from his examination.

Turning to speak with Jarrod, Nick frowned finding the spot where Jarrod stood was empty and he turned to go but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Nick, I think he’s badly shook up from today. Why don’t you give him some time?” suggested Howard. “How’s our other patient?”

“Stubborn doc.” replied Nick with a shake of his head. “Thought I was gonna have to lash him into that bed to get him to stay still.”

Chuckling softly, Howard winked, “I do believe I’ve had the same experience with you before. Now you know how I felt.”

Turning crimson, Nick looked down sheepishly, “I definitely have a new appreciation for what you go through. That’s the honest truth, doc.”

Studying the tanned face, Howard inquired hesitantly, “Will you try to remember that for the next time you need my services? It’s a lot easier when the patient cooperates, Nick.”

Laughing and clapping the healer on the back, Nick smirked, “What fun would that be, Dr. Merar! I know how much you love a good challenge.”

Wincing slightly at the strong clap on his back, Howard shoved the rancher out of the room while stating he’d be spending the remainder of the shift by Victoria’s side.

“Get some sleep, Nick. You’ll need it for tomorrow when you tell Mr. Thomson, he can’t leave just yet and needs another day of rest.” stated Howard with an evil smile as he closed the door on the shocked face.

Standing outside the door, Nick raised his hand to knock loudly and stopped his fist before it met with the dark wood not wanting to disturb his mother and elected to whisper loudly instead, “You’re an evil man, Dr. Merar. Truly evil!”

A snicker could be heard from behind the closed door before he turned and walked down to the other guestroom, opening the door and checking on the young man who was sleeping, the blond head turning slightly on the pillow, the moonlight filtering in through the window bathing his battered face in a soft glow.

Staring at the face in sleep, Nick was startled by the firm hand placed on his shoulder, whispering harshly after he saw the owner of the hand. “Dammit, Pappy! Don’t sneak up on me!”

“Go to bed, Nick. I’ll sit with him.” offered Jarrod. “I’m not tired and you got a ranch to run.”

Hazel eyes narrowed as they checked the pale face before him and he reached up to touch Jarrod’s forehead, “You feeling alright? You don’t look so good.”

Smiling slightly, Jarrod nodded, “I’m fine, Nick. Go on. You and Duke have a lot of work to do in the morning.”

Hesitating for just a moment, Nick nodded and squeezed a shoulder before he left the room. Lying in his bed, the youngest son puzzled for a moment over the look on his brother’s face before sleep beckoned, taking the questions out of his mind.

Sitting beside the bed of the young blond, Jarrod studied the relaxed face for several minutes, then leaned back in the chair, his eyes looking outside into the night sky, his mind wandering, unsure of the next step to take, unsure of what to do.

Was he a brother or wasn’t he? If he was a brother, was it coincidence he showed up today of all days?

Or did the hand of destiny have something to do with it?

Chapter 10

The warmth on his face woke the sleeping man from his slumber, the pain in his body reminded him of what happened and he reached up, tenderly wiping the medicine based remnants of sleep from his bruised face.

Opening his eyes, he glanced around the room, catching sight of the full day beaming outside and scowled. It was at least five hours past the rising of the sun and he was lying in bed. Pushing down the covers, Heath pushed himself to a sitting position, taking several shallow breaths and clenching his jaw against the protest in his side.

It took several minutes before he could swing his legs to the side of the bed, thankful he had his clothes on after he realized he’d more than likely lacked the power to tackle the simple chore.

Sitting on the bed, he closed his eyes and steadied himself for a moment, his left arm held to his side. The quiet of the house was somehow comforting and he let the lack of sound wash over him like the soft gentle breeze of summer. It was the quiet moments where he’d gather strength from, the quiet which helped calm his soul and befriended him in the past.

“Mr. Thomson, you shouldn’t be up!” stated the feminine voice, startling him in his moment of solitude, causing him to jump to his feet and then fall to his knees in pain, his face turning white from the jarring of his injured body.

Calling for assistance, Audra rushed over to the gasping man’s side, reaching out and placing a hand on his back, puzzled at his movement away from her. The shaking of his battered form was the only evidence of the trauma he was in.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Thomson.” apologized Audra, kneeling beside him. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Nick rushed into the room with Jarrod on his heels, moving Audra from the blond’s side, exclaiming brusquely, “What the hell! Dammit, get back in that bed!”

Jarrod and Audra gaped at their brother’s tone, the angry tone they knew was used as a cover up for worry, but to others who didn’t know the large heart of the big man it would seem like an attack on their person. Heath heard the bellow and looked up from his hunched position, the ire inside him rising quickly, shooting out like a geyser yet mindful of the presence of the fairer sex.

“Watch your words!” growled Heath through clenched teeth, blue eyes darkening in

anger. “There’s a lady present!”

Jarrod smiled at the emotions which spread rapidly across Nick’s face at the growled statement from the younger man, the blond bruised and battered, ignoring his plight to champion for the gentlemanly way in front of their sister.

‘Their sister’ repeated Jarrod in his head before he shook it clear of the thoughts and returned to the two men, the two brothers on the floor.

“You’re right.” admitted Nick turning red, glancing up at his sibling. “Sorry, Audra for what I said.”

Nodding, Audra smiled and gazed into her big brother’s eyes. “Thank you, Nick.”

Jarrod smiled widely, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement and received a glare from his younger brother before the rancher turned his eyes back to the man who had moved to sit against the wall, watching the other three in the room.

“What in the blazes do you think you’re doing, Mr. Thomson?” asked Nick calmly and firmly, rolling his eyes at the snickering of his two siblings.

“Mr. Barkley, how is Mrs. Barkley?” inquired Heath quietly, pointedly ignoring the question.

“She woke up last night.” sighed Nick, hazel eyes filled with relief at the thought of what could have been. “Doc says it’ll be at least a week before she’ll be up and about.”

Nodding slightly, Heath replied, “I’m glad she’s alright, Mr. Barkley. Mighty glad.”

“Thanks to you, Mr. Thomson.” asserted Audra, her words turning his eyes towards her. “I’m Audra Barkley, sister to these two lugheads.”

Flashing a lop-sided grin at the protests from her two brothers, Heath took the hand she held down, “Nice ta meet ya’, Miss Barkley.”

“It’s Audra.” insisted the blond girl. “Please call me Audra. Miss Barkley is too formal.”

“Sorry, Miss Barkley.” apologized the suddenly uncomfortable man in a low whisper. “It wouldn’t be, uh, right for someone like me to do such a thing.”

Puzzled, Nick studied the downcast face and glanced up at Jarrod quickly, moving his eyes back to the look of understanding which appeared to be on the eldest son’s face. Jarrod caught Nick’s look and moved his eyes away first.

“We all can see you’re a gentleman Mr. Thomson,” offered Jarrod quietly, catching the lighter blue eyes and smiled warmly. “But you’re among friends and it’s going to be awful confusing if you keep calling us Miss and Mister. I’d prefer you call me by my given name, Jarrod.”

Nodding, Nick smiled, “Besides, we’re business associates and no one is above anyone else here. Deal?”

Heath couldn’t explain the sudden warmth and camaraderie which rose up within him from the presence of the three siblings. Their hopeful faces looked at him with such expectation and the young man found himself agreeing, not wanting to be the cause of sadness or disappointment.

Nick held out his hand and helped the smaller man to his feet, sitting him on the side of the bed and nodding. “You’re lucky the doc just left a half hour ago. Otherwise he’d probably tie you down to keep you in bed after this little stunt.”

A smile spread across Heath’s face at the news of the doctor’s departure and the three Barkley children laughed. Heath chuckled slightly, wincing at the pain caused by his expanding lungs, waving off their apologies.

“It’s okay.” assured Heath after he’d shove the pain aside. “Ain’t nothing I haven’t felt before.”

Shaking his head, Nick offered, “How about some food, Heath?”

“Here or downstairs?” asked Heath suspiciously, causing Nick to laugh loudly.

Snickering, Audra covered her mouth with a small hand and felt Jarrod squeeze her other hand, his eyes twinkling at the two males before him. The eldest son suddenly felt in his heart and confirmed with all of his soul…this young man was part of them and he belonged here with his family.

How to make sure he was part of their future destiny? How to explain to his family this man was part of them, born of their father with another woman?

Jarrod watched as Nick walked beside the slow moving man, his bruised body stiff and painful. Audra followed the two out of the room, then turned and entered the room of their mother. Suddenly, Jarrod felt his stomach lurch and he leaned heavily against the doorframe, staring at the door Audra closed behind her.

Their Mother.

Would their Mother want this man as part of their family? This child who was a reminder of the breaking of marriage vows? The blight on the sanctity of marriage? Would she want to see the reminders every time she gazed upon the face of Heath Thomson?

Would their Mother want him as part of their destiny, their future? Would she?

Chapter 11

Blue eyes filled with a desire to spend more time with the blond wrangler from Strawberry and Jarrod moved from the guest room doorway, taking the backstairs down to the lower level. Hearing the voice of Nick, the attorney entered the kitchen and smiled at the two men sitting at the small table.

“Well gentlemen, I see you have raided Silas’ pantry.” sighed Jarrod pulling out a chair and reaching for a cold drumstick of chicken, his mouth already watering in anticipation. “Silas makes the best fried chicken.”

Nick smirked at the blond man across from him, the wink not seen by his eldest brother. Waiting til the older man’s teeth had sunk into the golden skin of the leg, Nick stated, “Audra made it.”

The statement caused the attorney to gasp, spit out the meat in his mouth and drop the chicken onto the table as if it scalded his fingers. Nick burst with laughter and Heath chuckled, holding his tender side at the lawyer’s response. Blue eyes sparkling with puzzled amusement at the two brothers.

“Nick, that’s not funny” protested Jarrod loudly. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“I enjoyed it.” snickered Nick wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, looking at the man across from them. “Little sister is, shall we say, not the best cook.”

Nodding in agreement, Jarrod sighed, “It’s a sad truth, Heath, I’m afraid.”

“It can’t be that bad.” suggested Heath quietly before taking a drink of his water, raising an eyebrow at the grimace on the two brothers’ faces. “Nah, you’re joshing!”

Nick leaned forward, motioning for the blond to listen and whispered loudly, “Her biscuits are the worse. Hard as a rock, even the strays around town won’t eat them.”

Jarrod leaned towards the blond, “Nick and I took some out to the lake.”

Intent on the loud whispers, Heath leaned over slightly, keeping his attention on the older man’s low voice, “Yeah?”

“Yeah and we could skip them across the water.” whispered Jarrod, shivering. “Hard as rocks, Heath. Very frightening.”

Heath glanced over to Nick, the hazel eyes serious as they looked at him and stated firmly, “If she ever offers to make you anything, starve instead.”

“Ya’ serious?” inquired the blond, receiving two definite nods and then grinning, “Too bad for ya’ fellows, having to live here and all. Bet there’s sometimes ya’ can’t avoid it.”

Curling up his lip, Nick growled, “You don’t have to rub it in!”

Heath chuckled, surprised at the comfortable feeling the two men invoked in him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced much in his young life. Pushing his plate away, the blond let out a content sigh.

“I feel better, Nick.” stated Heath hesitating for a moment. “Do ya’ think the doc’ll give the okay today for me to leave and head home?”

“No!” blurted Jarrod, turning red at the shocked faces of the other two men at the table. “Sorry, I just meant to say you can’t ride yet. You heard what Dr. Merar said about the possibility of injuring yourself further. Certainly another day or so of healing wouldn’t hurt anything.”

“Jarrod, I already told Heath I’d take him to town so doc can check him out.” informed Nick, studying his agitated older brother in confusion. “If he’s okay, then we’ll continue on to Strawberry. It’ll take just a couple days.”

Heath studied the face of the lawyer, suddenly feeling apprehensive and uncomfortable, unsure of where the feeling of camaraderie disappeared to, not wanting to be the reason for dissension between the siblings.

“Nick doesn’t have to take me to Strawberry.” suggested Heath, shifting in his seat and playing with the button on his cuff. “Maybe he should stay here til Mrs. Barkley is better. I can ride and take it slow.”

Nick shook his head and glared at Jarrod for a moment, before looking at the young wrangler, “Mother will understand. Besides, I told you I would and I’m not going back on my offer, Heath. You wouldn’t want me to go back on my word, would you, Jarrod?”

Blushing, Jarrod stammered, “Course not, Nick. I’m just concerned about this young man’s welfare.”

“That’s awful nice of ya’ but.” paused Heath for a moment, then stating, “I’m a grown man and can take care of myself. Sides, I need to get back and start on fulfilling my end of our deal.”

Nick smiled and stood, motioning for Heath to stand also. “Jarrod, I’ll make sure nothing happens. I’ll take care of him like he was my little brother.”

“I know you will, Nick.” assured Jarrod with a slight smile, shaking the blond’s hand and waited til the two left the kitchen before rubbing his face and scowling at himself. “That wasn’t very smooth, Jarrod. Get a hold of yourself.”

The eldest son took a deep breath and pushed back his chair, leaving the kitchen and entering the study. Sitting at the oak desk which was his father’s, Jarrod leaned back in the chair and studied the oil portrait above the fireplace. His hands entwined across his stomach, his blue eyes deep in thought.

The legal mind in the attorney turning, the gears shifting, stacking the laws of the country up against the sense of family, the sense of obligation. The sense of what it meant to be a member of this family, a member of the Barkley clan.

Legally, the family had no obligations. Heath Thomson had no legal claim to their wealth, their future. Jarrod knew he had no solid proof this man was their brother. The eldest son could see the Barkley eyes in the blond and was sure his mother would confirm it when she was able. She would confirm it, Jarrod decided without a doubt. After all, Mother already unconsciously confirmed it in her first moment of awareness. Unable to gain a moment alone with his mother since that time, the eldest son was left in limbo, left in waiting. Heath Thomson would leave the ranch soon and return to his own life.

Remembering the conversation with Duke who revealed the confused blond waking in the guestroom and pulling a blade in defense, Jarrod wondered why the injured man reacted in such a manner.

What happened in his past to cause such a reaction? What events occurred which made the man barely out of his teens to subconsciously defend himself that way?

A feeling of sickness rose up in Jarrod’s stomach and he looked up at the portrait of his father, his whisper loud in the quiet room.

“Have you any idea how society treats children who are born out of wedlock? Their innocence doesn’t matter, they’re held to task for the sins of the parents. Those poor children are treated lower than dirt.”

Blue eyes filled with tears and Jarrod leaned forward, banging his fists on the oak desk, his eyes burning with emotion, his heart filled with pain.

“My god, Father, what have you done?”

Chapter 12

“Jarrod?”

Startled from his anger filled reflections, Jarrod jumped to his feet, wiping the wetness from his face and slowly raising his eyes to meet his brothers. Nick stood in the doorway of the study, his face showing he’d heard the whispered question.

“What is it?” demanded Nick taking long strides over to his brother and stopping in front of the desk, leaning over the wooden structure, hazel eyes wide with concern.

Taking a shaky breath, Jarrod opened his mouth and then closed it, unsure of what to say, what to reveal and what not to. Moving from behind the desk, Jarrod walked to the french doors looking out over the garden, not surprised at the strong hand which clasped onto his shoulder.

“I’m not positive, Nick.” started Jarrod, shaking his head in denial. “No, that’s not right. I’m positive but can’t prove it.”

“Prove what?” questioned Nick. “Just spit it out!”

“This isn’t the kind of thing you spit out, Nick!” snapped Jarrod, pushing his brother’s hand down. “This is life changing. It’ll change everything about our family. Everything!”

Never one to embrace riddles or mind bending puzzles, Nick Barkley was a man who liked to meet challenges head on, a man who reveled in the challenge of life, a man who excelled in the here and now.

“Jarrod, what are you talking about?” growled the man clad in only black. “You know I hate it when you talk around subjects! It makes my head hurt!”

“When Mother woke up she was asking for Father.” informed Jarrod, watching Nick sigh and cross his arms across his chest, fighting for patience. “Mother thinks she saw Father. She thinks he rescued her.”

“For pete’s sake, Pappy! Mother got a concussion on the anniversary of Father’s death. He was on her mind. That explains why she’d think he was there.” exclaimed Nick in relief, cutting off any further words of his brother’s. “Don’t worry, she’s not losing her mind or anything like that. You had me scared there for a minute, counselor!”

Jarrod nodded at the explanation his brother handed out while inwardly hoping Nick would forgive him later when he found out he didn’t reveal the probable familial connection of Heath Thomson right away. Nick smiled with relief and Jarrod ran his hand over his face after the larger man left his back stinging from a strong clap. Taking a deep breath, the eldest son watched as the gun cabinet was unlocked and a gunbelt taken out along with a knife.

“What are you doing, Nick?” puzzled Jarrod.

“Oh, these are Heath’s. I put them here after, well, after what happened with Duke and Jenkins last night.” sighed Nick with a frown. “Figured it was safer for him and whoever was in the room.”

“So, what are you gonna do with them?”

“I’m gonna give them back to him.” said Nick calmly relocking the cabinet. “We’re heading into town, you need anything?”

“No, thanks.” replied Jarrod, walking over and stopping Nick before he left the room. “Nick, I am worried about him riding though. I think it’s too soon.”

Shrugging, Nick offered, “If Dr. Merar says even riding in the surrey wouldn’t be advised, he’s agreed to stay here at the ranch for a couple more days. It’s up to him, Jarrod. We can’t keep him here against his will.”

“I know.” agreed Jarrod reluctantly, a frown gracing his face.

Sensing there was more behind the worry of his brother, Nick waited for a moment and when no other words were forthcoming, replied, “If we go on through to Strawberry, I’ll send word back to the ranch. Okay?”

Nodding, Jarrod offered a slight smile and walked with his brother out to the foyer. “I’m going to give Audra a break. Hope to see you at dinner.”

Turning, the first born climbed the stairs while Nick stood watching from the bottom of the staircase, not knowing quite what to make of the vibes he was sensing from his brother. Close all their lives, though pursuing different dreams, this was the first time his Pappy was a puzzlement to him.

It was almost as if he were keeping some hidden agenda, hiding the truth from him and Nick scowled at his thoughts. They’d never lied to each other ever before and the rancher felt ashamed at himself for having such a thought.

Frowning, Nick wondered if he’d misheard the whisper when he entered the study. Why would Jarrod be mad at their Father? Nick nodded as he internally rationalized Jarrod was just concerned with their mother and the events of the past thirty-six hours. Add to the mix, their mother’s scrambled memories of seeing her dead husband, of course, he’d be overly worried and concerned.

It had frightened him too til the doc calmly settled his fears. Thinking of the early morning conversation, Nick realized Jarrod hadn’t been in the room when he’d spoken with Dr. Merar, therefore, he hadn’t heard the doc’s explanation. A sense of relief filtered through him and he felt sure of his reasoning.

Opening the front door, Nick smiled at the blond in the surrey with the modoc tied to the back. Climbing in, Nick handed the leather belt over and suggested. “Gee, it looks like you can’t wait to get off our ranch.”

Putting on his belt, Heath teased quietly, “Well, considering what happened when I tried to leave yesterday, I am a little anxious.”

“Yeah, sorry about Barrett.” apologized Nick starting the surrey with a flick of the reins.

Heath frowned, “I’m just kiddin’, Nick. Will ya’ stop apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault.”

Glancing over, Nick smirked, “Yeah, sorry about that too.”

Rolling his eyes at the laughing hazel orbs, Heath shook his head and grinned back, sparkling blue eyes met the hazel eyes under the California sun.

Chapter 13

Jarrod smiled at Audra, the teasing of the two men at the table a welcome sound in the early morning. Two different men, one blond the other dark haired, one large and muscular, the other slim and wiry whose muscles were still developing on the young man. Two sets of eyes, one blue the other hazel, both filled with amusement and deviltry.

The first born kept his thoughts of brotherhood to himself, the thoughts he was not ready to reveal until he had a chance to speak with his mother. Sighing, Jarrod took a drink of his coffee, running through the upcoming conversation in his mind. Their mother’s eyes were free of haziness for the first time in four days, her headache no longer lingered, sending jabs of pain through her and requiring the pain medicine which made her sleep.

“That sound okay with you, Jarrod?” asked Nick suddenly, frowning at the deep thinking of his brother. “JARROD!”

Jumping at the shout, Jarrod set his cup on the table and wiped his hands free of the splashed coffee with a napkin, “Nick, you don’t have to shout! I’m sitting right here!”

“I was just trying to get your attention, big brother.” replied Nick with a rolling of his eyes. “Are you coming with us this afternoon? Heath’s only going to be here one more day.”

“What are you planning on doing this afternoon?” puzzled Jarrod watching the tanned face darken with a scowl.

“Pappy! Remember, we planned on fishing.” snorted Nick leaning his arms on the table. “What’s with you this week? You working on a big case or something?”

Jarrod sighed, “I guess my mind has been elsewhere. Sorry about that.”

“Well, Jarrod, that’s to be expected since ya’ a lawyer and all. Thinking’s what ya’ get paid to do.” drawled Heath with a shrug before winking at the attorney. “Now your brother over there, he don’t get paid to think. Otherwise, he’d know he ain’t gonna outfish me like he can’t out play me in poker. If he was a thinkin’ man, he’d know he wasn’t the big bird on the walk again and just admit there’s a new rooster in town!”

Audra and Jarrod laughed at the protest which rang out through the room, the large fist shaking at the smirking younger man. Heath’s eyes twinkled with laughter, his face trying hard to remain inexpressive at the glaring rancher.

“What a funny man!” gruffed Nick before standing and placing a kiss on his sister’s upraised cheek. “Com’n Heath, let’s see how Charger’s doing today. Audra, tell Mother I’ll be up later.”

“Okay, Nick.” smiled Audra, waving at Heath as he followed Nick out of the room.

Jarrod shook his head at the laughter and wondered if the nearing revelation would break the bond of friendship formed between the two men. Dreadful feelings rose up again, his mind spun rapidly while he drummed his fingers on the table, stopping at the tiny hand which was placed over his.

“Are you okay, Jarrod?” questioned Audra, her concern showing in her eyes.

Squeezing her hand, Jarrod smiled and placed a kiss on her cheek. “I’m fine, honey. Don’t worry your pretty head about anything.”

Not really satisfied with the foggy answer, Audra nodded and sighed knowing her oldest brother wouldn’t divulge his inner thoughts or what was taking hold of his mind til he was ready.

“I’m going to help Silas and after that, I’ll sit with Mother.” smiled Audra standing and gathering the plates.

“Audra, I’ll go up and sit with Mother. Why don’t you go for a ride?” offered Jarrod. “You haven’t been out of the house since it happened.”

“I would like to watch Heath working with the stallion.” murmured Audra, looking up. “Are you sure?”

Smiling, Jarrod nodded, “Positive, little one. Why don’t you change and I’ll take care of bringing the dishes into the kitchen.”

“Thanks, Jarrod!” exclaimed Audra, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she rushed out of the room and up the stairs.

She’d been trying to be there to watch the wrangler work with the red horse but hadn’t been able to find time to go down to the corral. Entering her room, Audra quickly changed into her riding clothes and bounded out the house for the corral. Standing by Nick, she returned the smile of her brother before turning her eyes to watch the main attraction in the corral.

Jarrod carried the dishes into the kitchen, smiling slightly at the look on Silas’ face before he placed them in the sink. Silas informed the oldest son, his mother had eaten and was napping. Thanking the longtime caretaker of their family, Jarrod climbed the stairs to wait by his mother’s bedside, in his pocket, a photograph of Thomas and Victoria Barkley when they first married. She was sixteen, he was nineteen.

The father the first born remembered had not been a slim wiry man barely out of his teens. Jarrod surmised with the building of an empire, his father’s build and shape of his face had changed from the hard work, the elements of the weather and the gaining of weight.

The man the family laid to rest in a silk lined coffin was not the same face as the man who married their mother. The face of the man who married their mother was the same as the blond wrangler from Strawberry. The same age, the same face.

In his other pocket was a copy of the birth certificate he’d requested and had sent by train. The name listed as father was Thomas J. Barkley and the mother, Leah Thomson.

Three hours later, Heath and Nick entered the mansion to ready themselves for the lazy afternoon of fishing. “Heath, I’ll be a couple minutes. I have to put this receipt in the ledger.”

“I’m just gonna change shirts, Nick and be right down.” said Heath, climbing the staircase to his room, his boots quiet on the carpeted hallway, his smile wide on his face at the thought of spending a beautiful afternoon, fishing with the Barkley brothers for company. The past week of friendship with the men had surprised and warmed his soul immensely.

Nearing his room, he stopped and felt his heart lunge into his throat, the cracked door allowing the conversation to escape from the room.

“Jarrod, what has Nick said about Heath being your father’s son, his brother?”

“Nick says he thinks Heath’s had a hard life…”

No further words could get through the pounding in his chest, the rush of water in his ears, the anger rose up and threatened to shatter the calm he’d built up for the last three years. Entering his room, the blond sank back against the wall, his legs trembling with what he’d just heard, his hands clenched into fists and his eyes burned with anger, the questions assaulting his mind, nonstop, bombarding him like the artillery fire on a battlefield.

All this week they knew. They must have known all along he was a whelp of their father’s. Why didn’t they say anything? Were they only acting nice while secretly hoping the truth would never be revealed? Why didn’t Nick say anything? They didn’t tell me, they hid the truth. They lied.

Nick lied. He knew and he looked me in the eye, smiling and offering me a hand in friendship.

“I’ll take care of him like he was my little brother.”

He could feel it…the rage which sent him to live like a hermit…it was rising and the blond knew he had to escape. He couldn’t stay here. Not in a house overflowing with lies and betrayal.

Pushing away from the wall, the young man who’d unknowingly spent the last five days in the presence of his siblings grabbed his saddlebags and thrust his clothes into them. Short work was made of the deed, his gunbelt strapped on and he clenched his jaw against the rage building, the inner demon he’d struggled with for the past three years.

Nick walked into the foyer as the blond’s foot hit the oak flooring, the puzzlement on his face at the saddlebags over the younger man’s shoulder did not register in the boiling mind of the man who’d felt betrayed and cut to the very core.

“Heath, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“I ain’t the only bastard in this fine house!” hissed Heath, the rage in his eyes stunning Nick for a moment before the blond’s fist connected and propelled the larger man backwards, the surge of power from his anger knocking out the bigger man and he slid across the oak flooring before laying still.

Opening the door, the blond climbed up on his modoc and galloped out of the yard, the tears from the pain started without him knowing as he made good his escape from the house of deceit and betrayal.

Chapter 14

“MR. NICK!” screamed Silas, rushing to the side of the still man, looking up at the sound of running feet from the upper level of the mansion. Jarrod heard the cry from the small man and rushed from his Mother’s room, gasping at the sight of his brother crumpled onto the oak flooring.

“Silas, what happened?” stammered Jarrod relieved when he found no broken bones and his ears picked up the steady breathing before he carefully turned his brother onto his back, a bruise already forming on his jaw.

“I’s don’t know, Mr. Jarrod.” replied Silas. “I’s just found ‘em like tis.”

The oak door to the mansion flew open and Audra rushed inside, her intended statement departing at the sight of her brother laying on the floor “NICK!”

Silas gave up his place beside the prone man, the girl ran her fingers through the unruly black hair. “Jarrod, what happened? Did Nick fall or something?”

“I don’t know, Audra. Silas found him like this.” mumbled Jarrod, leaning over and tapping the tanned face. “Nick? Nick!”

A moan precipitated a moving of his head and Nick groaned, reaching up and holding his jaw. Hazel eyes slowly crept open and he rolled onto his side, the pain in his face the only thing he felt.

“Nick, what happened?” questioned the first born, his hands holding the broad shoulders of the now kneeling man and taking in the fuzzy eyes.

The memory of the words came back to the large man and he pushed Jarrod away, half walking and half stumbling to the oak door, his hand fumbled with the handle and he flung it open, staring at the empty space beside Coco.

Jarrod and Audra followed their crazed brother who was intent on reaching the door, the attorney catching the flung open door, preventing it from closing on the man who leaned heavily against the door jamb with a sigh.

“Nick, what is it? What’s happened!” demanded Jarrod.

“Heath did it. His eyes…they were so full of rage.” stammered Nick in disbelief, the loss and confusion fighting for space within him.

“Why would he hit you?” puzzled Audra. “He likes and respects you, Nick. That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know, Audra. I thought we were friends.” retorted Nick, banging his hand on the wooden plank before turning and looking past his siblings to the foyer. “He came downstairs with his saddlebags. He was furious and I asked him what was wrong.”

Jarrod closed his eyes briefly, his stomach twisting in knots and he knew instantly what must have happened for he had seen the door of his mother’s room partially opened after he rushed to it when he heard Silas’ shout.

“He said ‘I ain’t the only bastard in this fine house’ and then all I remember next is waking up.” whispered Nick, shaking his head trying to find what he’d missed, the reason for the blond’s attack and anger. “I don’t get it. I don’t get what he was mad at me for.”

Victoria sat on the top steps of the grand staircase, the short walk from her room to the landing, exhausting her but the scene at the bottom of the stair case frightening her more.

“Heath left. I saw him riding out of the yard, he was riding fast, too fast.” gasped Audra, her eyes wide with fear and concern. “Why would he leave like that?”

Closing the oak door after Nick moved away, Jarrod took a deep breath and caught his mother’s eye, her nod of agreement signified her permission, the movement not missed by the younger children in the room.

“Heath may have overheard something he wasn’t meant to hear, at least not at this time. I wanted to speak with Mother first before saying anything.”

Nick and Audra glanced at each other, the sick look on their older brother’s face and the shine of perspiration on his forehead, moving the two closer.

“What are you talking about?” demanded Nick in a raspy voice, suddenly unsure of why he felt the cold hand of dread grab at his throat, his hands clenched into fists.

“When I was seven and you were four, Nick. Father had a liaison with another woman.”

Audra gasped and her hand went to her neck, her suddenly trembling body was encased in a strong arm of her protector, the man who felt the wind rush out of his lungs with the statement from his brother, the denial sprang immediately to his lips.

“He wouldn’t!”

“Nicholas, please listen.” urged Victoria firmly and quietly, her words stopping any more words from leaving. “It is true. I knew about it. Your father had amnesia from a concussion and wasn’t aware he was married. He didn’t consciously commit the act but it happened. Don’t hate him for not knowing he had a family back in his hometown.”

Nick’s face paled with the news, his hands shook and he released his sister’s waist to cross his arms over his chest, narrowed hazel eyes picked out a knot of wood in the flooring, his whisper barely heard. “Oh god, father.”

“A child was born out of the…acquaintance.” informed Jarrod quietly. “Heath is our brother.”

“My god!” exclaimed Audra, unaware her tears were falling down her face, her hands grabbing onto the nearby round table offering her shaky legs some support. “It can’t be!”

Jarrod studied the down turned face of his brother, the man whose world had evolved around their father, the man who worked by their father each day and who learned from their parent, the art of ranching and life in general.

Silas helped the tiny head of the family carefully down the staircase, his ebony hands supporting her, his sympathetic eyes giving her a measure of comfort in this time of revelation as he lead her to the nearest chair to the foyer. The chair offering her a place of softness where she could be part of the discussion, be there for her children.

Jarrod pulled out the picture and certificate from his pocket, his unsteady hand offering them to his sister, his words telling his siblings what he’d known from almost the first day of the destined meeting between the wrangler and their family.

Any further explanations or revelations were stopped when two large, powerful hands grabbed his shirt, the hazel eyes flashing with fire and he was yanked forward, the lawyer’s face almost touching the rancher’s.

“You lied to me.” accused Nick, his voice thick with anger. “You said you were worried about Mother. You lied to me and now, he….he…thinks I’ve betrayed him. He thinks I knew!”

“Nick, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.” said Jarrod calmly in the face of the anger exuding from his brother. “I’d never want to hurt Heath like that. Never. I’m sorry, Nick.”

Disgust sprang into the hazel eyes and Nick pushed his attorney brother back away from him, running his hand through his hair, pacing the foyer before he stopped and jabbed a large finger to emphasize his shouted declaration into the white shirt before him.

“So help me, Jarrod. If I don’t get a chance to right this with Heath, I’ll never speak to you again!”

Chapter 15

“Nick, please let be calm.” requested Victoria firmly, pushing herself up from the chair and smiling at her daughter who rushed to her side, holding onto her arm.

“Mother, you didn’t see Heath’s eyes. I just, uh, he….” countered Nick, his face falling in despair and he grabbed his hat from the table. “I’m going after him!”

“Nick, wait.” replied Jarrod reaching out to touch the dark sleeve, lowering his hand at the glare from his younger brother. “You’re right, I should’ve told you what I found out. I should’ve told you about our brother. Let me come with you so I can explain to Heath you didn’t know. Let me help you find our brother, Nick.”

The pleading in his older brother’s eyes stopped any discouraging words and Nick nodded. “Okay, Jarrod.”

Jarrod rushed up the staircase to change into jeans and Nick walked over to stand in front of his mother, placing a kiss on her cheek. “It’s wonderful to see you moving around, Mother.”

Gray eyes filled with love and she wrapped her son into a hug, patting his back with her small hands. The trembling in his large body the only sign of the emotional turmoil of the day.

“Mother, do you want us to go after Heath?” asked Nick quietly in her ear. “What do you want?”

Pulling back, Victoria studied the questioning hazel eyes and nodded. “He’s your father’s son and your brother. What else is there to say?”

“This past week, I felt like I’d known Heath all my life, Mother.” whispered Nick. “Being beside him feels right. Do you think he’ll understand? Do you think he’s gone forever?”

Closing her eyes briefly, Victoria took a shaky breath. “I wish I could say Heath’ll understand but his parentage is just as much a shock to him as it was to us. I hope you’ll be able to convince him to come back and talk to us. We can’t force him to stay here, Nick if he doesn’t want to.”

“I know, Mother.” sighed Nick, walking her back to the chair. “All we can do is try.”

Audra nodded and reached up to place a kiss on the tanned cheek, her fingers squeezing his large hand. “When you find Heath, tell him I want to see my brother again.”

Smiling, Nick nodded and cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, “I’ll deliver your message personally, little sister.”

Jarrod entered the foyer and after saying goodbye, followed Nick out of the house, within minutes the two brothers were riding out of the ranchyard in the direction of Stockton. Their eyes watching for any sign of a blond wrangler on a modoc horse.

The lather spraying up from Gal’s dark coat woke the rider from his fury driven flight, the large hand pulled up on the reins, slowly bringing the animal to a stop. Climbing down from the saddle, Heath leaned against the hot leather, his head resting on his forearm. Looking around, the blue eyes saw he was past Stockton and he lead his friend into a grove of trees, walking the equine to cool her down, wishing the walk would cool down his anger and raging mind.

Common sense returned to the man whose world been turned upside down. Without his horse, it was a long walk back to Strawberry and his small ranch. Moving Gal further into the trees, he came upon a small clearing and took the saddle off her back, leading her to the small stream and letting her drink. Pulling her to a grassy patch, he set the picket and watched the munching of grass for a few minutes before moving to sit under a tree.

Carefully lowering himself to the ground, the blond winced at the pain he’d reawakened in his side before he leaned his head back, his hands reaching up to wipe his face clear of the lingering salt drops from his eyes.

Taking a shaky breath, he ran through his mind the words he’d heard and felt the bitterness of the past climb in his throat, the bile rising with each reminder of the life he’d been born into compared to the life of the other children of the man who planted the seed in his mother’s womb.

His mind couldn’t bring forth the memory of his mother, mostly it only would bring it to him when he was fevered and ill. He could remember as a child the soft voice which caressed his ears and the small hand which would run through his hair as she sang him to sleep. Closing his eyes for a moment, he relaxed and tried to bring her face before him.

“You no good lousy, bastard! GET UP, BOY!”

The face of evil lured from above as the large hands picked him up and backhanded him, the blow sending the small boy across the room to impact with the wall. Not moving fast enough for the man who took over raising him when his mother died from the fever, a hand would jerk him up and the small child would pray for his death at the hands of his uncle.

Jumping upwards to his feet, the blond’s face perspired and his gun was in his hand, his eyes wild and confused, spinning around and raking the forest with his eyes. Falling to his knees, the gun fell into the dirt and he reached up to cover his face with two shaking hands.

The man would never be free of the tormented boy who’d been forced to live in an environment of hell. An environment of no escape until he’d one day pushed his Aunt down and fled, away from the town and his abusive relatives, away from the gates of hell into the depths of hell. A war between brothers and the confederate prison which became his home for eight months.

The man would never be free of the boy who came out of the prison, his soul consumed with rage, consumed with the pains locked away, shoved way down into their depths. The inner demons were scratching at the door, wanting to be released from the act of betrayal they sensed would be their freedom.

No, the man would never be free of the demons and he couldn’t take the chance of having the demons get their foot in the door. He couldn’t let loose the rage for fear it would consume and swallow him whole.

Nighttime had fallen, the stars were shining brightly when the door to the mansion opened. Two women looked up with expectation before their faces fell at the looks of the two men.

“We couldn’t find Heath.” informed Jarrod quietly, his eyes haunted with the pain he’d unwittingly caused the man they’d all grown to like immensely over the past week, their brother.

“Tomorrow we’ll head to Strawberry, Mother.” said Nick, placing a kiss on her cheek and slowly shuffling up the grand staircase, his shoulders slumped from defeat.

Chapter 16

It was a dark shape smothered by the velvet of the night. A small two room building, the only haven for a small boy from the brutality of his two relatives he’d known as a child. The guardians appointed to him legally after the death of his mama.

As a five year old, his mind didn’t understand the turnings of the wheels of the legal system. He didn’t understand about guardians, death, wills and such things. He only knew one day his life changed.

As a child he learned early in life why he was treated less than favorably by the god fearing people of the town. He’d learned the definition of the word he was called before he could put his name down to paper, before he could read his first word. The hurtful words, the despicable treatment didn’t seem so bad as long as he had his mama with him, singing to him at night and surrounding him with her love.

To a child of five, it all changed the day she left this world, left her body behind and ventured into the world where the streets were paved with gold, where no harsh words were flung at a person for the sheer joy the cruelty would bring. She’d gone to a better place, of this place he was aware, for each night his mama would read from the bible to him. He knew she had stepped into the kingdom above and in that instant, he was thrust into hell on earth.

His adopted Aunt Rachel fought to keep the son of her friend with her, to raise him as her own. She’d fought against the man who was his biological uncle, the brother to his mama. Rachel’s fight was in vain, the law saw the blood bond and turned the youngster over to the childless couple who ran the hotel in town.

As a child who was intuitive and curious, Heath knew his life would forever be changed. He’d known the ugliness in his aunt and uncle, he’d already experienced it and there was nothing he could do to stay out of their clutches. He was only a child and save for Rachel, no one would step forward and speak for him.

Rachel’s protests went unheard and the middle aged woman knew fear for the boy she loved immensely. She’d been forced to watch from afar as the child changed during the time he’d spent in the hotel, the place he’d been forced to call home. His relatives sent the boy to work in the mine as a charge boy, a deadly profession, a risky business. They sent him there and collected the dollar he made each week, hoarding the additional money and barely giving the boy a roof over his head and food in his stomach.

After he was sentenced to live with his aunt and uncle, it only took a few times of disobedience, a few times of rebellion and the swift punishment which followed to squelch the laughter and joy in his young soul.

He was only a child but he knew he was only kept as an indentured servant, a means of making money, a scapegoat for the couple’s failures. He tried to run away but the attempt was unsuccessful and the punishment doled out was painful and startling, shaming and damming. It had started the anger deep down inside him, the anger which exploded one day when his uncle was out of town. The wrinkled hand which slapped his face and left a red mark sent the fury in him to the surface, his teenage hands responded and shoving with all his might, pushed his aunt down, her head hitting the floor and she lay stunned as he stood above her.

Fear had driven him at the sight of her laying on the floor, fear of punishment sent him from his hometown to the line of men enlisting for the war. The war which was far away on the other coast of the country, far enough away to escape the punishment which awaited him back at the place he barely survived in.

The enlistment, the assigning to a company, the impressive skills with a rifle. All these things surrounded him with men who were like no other. They didn’t treat him like everyone else had in his young life, they treated him as if he were one of them. They sheltered him because of his youth and yet, shook their heads at the deadly ability he possessed. They shook their heads in wonder at his tender age and yet, they admired his skill.

He was protected by the men who surrounded him, protected as well as they could in an environment where death was all around, where men lay crying while their blood seeped out or their screams could be heard as the doctors worked over their injured bodies without the benefit of anesthesia. He was protected for the first time in almost ten years and he could feel deep within him, his soul allowing some light in.

He was protected for the first time in years and had startled in surprise the first time he laughed with them, the first time he shared in a moment of joy among the sadness and darkness of war. The sound of his own laughter was foreign to his ears and with time, he could feel the blackness of his soul lighten, little by little.

The lightening stopped on the fateful day they’d been captured and sent to the confederate prison. The filth, the starvation, the beatings, the degradation, the lack of humanity surrounded them daily. The will to survive has always been strong in him and he used the anger inside to keep him alive, keep him going against the impossible odds.

He had all but given up hope of being free or setting foot on the ground outside the camp. He was sure he was destined to die in the enemy prison and he welcomed death, but it never came and he’d been forced to dwell in a place where it was hell on earth.

When he woke up in the army hospital, he’d given Rachel Caulfield’s name as his relative, not knowing if she was still alive or would even be wanting to hear from the boy who’d always loved her. He only knew he’d rather crawl all the way back to the ends of the earth rather than contact the two guardians the courts had deemed would be suitable to raise a small boy.

Rachel left as soon as she received the letter and the next time he was aware after his body almost gave out on him, she was there holding his hand and running her fingers through his hair.

It had taken almost a year for him to fully recover and find a way to restore the essence of peace in his soul. Nightmares threatened him though not on a daily basis, the childhood he’d survived was evident in his lack of comfort with strangers. Loud people would often send a shiver through him, the brashness reminded him of his uncle, the man whose hands he’d feared as a child.

Standing and looking at the cabin of Rachel, Heath’s blue eyes wandered past the dwelling to the street further down, the hotel where he knew his other relatives lived, the place he hadn’t stepped foot in since that last day.

The young man knew the dangers of the town but Rachel was old and wouldn’t move. Her own health was failing and she wanted to be buried beside her dear friends, Leah and Hannah. It was her one wish and the blond knew it was only a matter of time before it was granted.

Aunt Rachel had taken care of him and Heath would return the favor tenfold. The love they had for each other was no less than a mother had for a child, no less than a child had for a parent. It was unconditional and it was strong, unbending and unfailing.

Knocking on the door of the cabin, he whispered and she unlocked the door, ushering him in and wrapping her nephew in a hug. No lights were light, their voices never raised over whispers in the darkness of the small home.

“I heard him, Aunt Rachel. Saying I was their brother. They’d knowed it all along, this whole time.” whispered Heath, torn between anger and desire, sadness and longing. “I want to hate them. I should hate them.”

“But you don’t, do you?” asked Rachel, rubbing his back in the darkness as she sat beside him on the small couch, his head held in his hands, his body hunched forward.

“No.” admitted Heath with a shaky breath. “I’m so confused…I don’t know what to do...what to think. I’m afraid of being angry all the time again. So afraid of feeling the rage.”

Rachel remembered vividly the rage her nephew had fought long and hard against, his gentle nature had slowly returned, his shattered being carefully put back together. Reaching over, she pulled one of his hands away and held in between hers.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Heath. You have to make your own decision.” stated Rachel quietly. “If you don’t ask those questions that are repeating themselves in your mind, you’ll never have peace. You’ll always wonder and it’ll slowly eat away at you. Can you live with questions? Can you afford to?”

Chapter 17

The windows of the building were thickened with dust, the wood dreary and forsaken, the sign weathered and difficult to read. Of all the buildings on the main street, it was the only one which showed a hint of life in the empty street.

Stopping their horses, the two men ran their eyes up and down the desolate town, the signs of few inhabitants stood everywhere for them to see. From tumbleweeds piled up against fences and buildings, to little vermin scuttering around, unconcerned with the human population since they owned this place they dwelled in. The humans were the minority and they, the majority.

It had been a dry and long ride for Nick and Jarrod, brothers since birth, companions and confidants to each other over the years. Yes, it’d been a long ride made essentially longer by the underlying anger of one brother against another. Over the past years, the brothers had no secrets between each other, the bond between them was strong as iron and their trust in each other solid as rock, until now.

It wasn’t so much words spoken, it was the unspoken language which hurt more, the walls erected, the moat dug with no drawbridge to cross. He’d hurt his little brother by not sharing the information in regards to Heath. No matter if the reasons were valid to the mind of the eldest, to the youngest, he felt as if he wasn’t trusted enough to be taken into confidence with an event which would forever change the lives of all in the family and in the community.

Nick was unarmed to deal with the fury from their wild-eyed half-brother, because he hadn’t known of the blood line by way of their mutual father and thus, his lack of knowledge left him ill prepared when he was placed in harm’s way.

Of all things, Nick Barkley was a man with a large heart, with a strong back and hands whose world evolved around simple rules though his mind was complex. Regardless of the circumstances of the blond’s birth, he was their brother and a person, all three siblings mutually agreed to be a man they wanted to know from this day forth. A man they wanted in their family, a man they needed to find to right a wrong.

It was this mission which brought them to the remnant of a world once showered with gold and glitz, where men made and lost millions, where the gamblers, conmen and cheats profited by plying their trades. Those heydays were long gone and all that was left was a town falling into ruins, the mines closed up, the business dried up as quick as the veins of ore. The people who had flocked to the town of riches, stampeded just as quickly from the town of poverty, off to bilk another town of its valuable natural resources.

Nick caught Jarrod’s eyes and shook his head at the town before them. He’d seen bad off people and towns before but the rancher knew he’d never seen anything like this. Jarrod stood beside his brother and sighed.

“Looks like only this hotel is open, Nick.”

“Good as place as any to start.” stated Nick, his spurs jingling as he climbed the three steps, grabbing onto the railing when the loose board gave way and his leg dropped several inches when it splintered in two from his weight.

“You okay?” questioned Jarrod, reaching up and holding his brother by the back with two hands, til he regained his balance and climbed up onto the rickety porch.

“Yeah, here grab my hand.” offered Nick, pulling his older brother up over the broken step, scowling at the rotted wood. “Somebody could break their neck on those steps.”

“I don’t think the proprietors have to worry about any customers hurting themselves, Nick.” retorted Jarrod, clapping his brother on the back. “Thanks for the hand up.”

“I still ain’t talking to you.” snarled Nick, moving to the door, leaving his eye rolling brother on the porch as he stepped inside and stopped. Jarrod moved to stand beside him and both men stared at the lobby, filth and debris mixed in with the gaudy crushed red velvet furniture. The dust lay thick on everything and the smell was less than appealing.

A man with dark hair, lined with gray looked up from the corner table where he was nursing a drink, a half-empty bottle of no name rotgut before him. As the men neared, his black harsh eyes studied the two strangers, narrowing at their approach which sent dust flying in the air, the particles dancing in the beams of sunlight which managed to find a way through the panes of dirt.

“What do ya’ want? We ain’t got nothing to offer.” snorted the man, lifting and tossing back his shot of drink.

“We’re looking for someone who lives here.” said Jarrod, suddenly glancing at Nick, the two brothers both feeling a sense of discomfort, a sense of uneasiness at the man before them.

“Who is it ya’ lookin’ fer? Ain’t many here no more.” slurred the man, his words filled with bitterness, his hand was unsteady as the dark drink poured into the dirty glass. “I ain’t got all damn day!”

Nick fought down his irritation at the man’s manner, his need for information overtaking his anger at the man’s tone and he hooked his thumb into his belt before stating. “Heath Thomson. You know him?”

Jumping up to his feet suddenly, the man sneered, his eyes laden with contempt and hate. “What do ya’ want him for? He rob you, steal from you or something. He ain’t nothing but a no good lousy bastard. He break the law? Hangings too good for his kind.”

Sending a warning look to Nick, Jarrod shook his head and smiled, “We contracted with Mr. Thomson to train some horses for us. We were in the area and it’s a good opportunity to see how he was coming along with them.”

Dark eyes studied the two men before him, his hands on the table steadied his weaving body and he sat back in his chair, picking up his glass and downing it, his eyes becoming glossier by the second.

“Don’t know and don’t’ care where my bastard nephew is.” slurred the man before banging his fist on the table. “He’s the reason we’re stuck here. Him and his whore mother.”

“You’re his uncle?” hissed Nick, his stomach churning in disgust, his body trembling.

“I ain’t proud of it. Ain’t nothing but bad seed. Bastard. His kind should have their heads smashed at birth.”

Lunging forward, Nick grabbed the older man by the front of his shirt, pulling him across the table, the bottle and glass crashing to the floor. Stunned at the quick movement and the curses from the other man, Matt Simmons was startled and couldn’t move for a second, before the fury darkened his already black eyes and his hands tore at the steel arms which shook him like he were a doll.

“GIT OFF ME!”

Jarrod grabbed onto Nick’s arm to break the hold he clamped on the man, both brothers standing stark still at the sound of a gunshot making their ears ring.

“Let him go.” ordered a voice devoid of all kindness, devoid of all compassion from behind them. “Do as I say or the next ones in your back.”

Loosening his hold slowly, Nick clenched his jaw and dropped the older man into the filth on the floor. Black eyes burned with anger and his hand enclosed on the bottle, springing to his feet, he smashed it against the side of Nick’s head, sending the dark vested man staggering into Jarrod who caught him in his arms.

“NICK!” shouted Jarrod, turning his brother’s face to get a look at the wound opened in the side of his head, the blood running down the unconscious man’s face and dripping onto the floor.

Looking up, blue eyes were caught in the hateful matching gazes standing above him, his hands holding onto his injured brother, his heart full of fear for their safety and his mind full of revulsion for these people related to their newest brother. The venomous words no doubt had been lashed out at Heath as a child, an innocent child who didn’t have a choice to who or what circumstances he’d been born in.

Continued…