UNSETTLED

Chapters 1-27

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

Loneliness is an emotion that he had experienced a lot in his young life. Loneliness caused by the stigma attached to him because of a liaison his mother had with a man.

Loneliness caused by his lack of friends as a child.

Loneliness because of the harshness of reality his aunt and uncle forced him to deal with.

Loneliness created by himself as an adult.

He had craved for the simple pleasure of playing with no worries as a boy. That was not possible since he had to assist his mother and help earn his keep.

He had craved for the simple pleasure of walking home with friends after school. That was not possible since the parents of the other school children frowned upon such an act of friendship with him.

He had craved for toys on his birthday or at Christmas. That was not possible since they were so poor, money was scarce and those things were not a necessity.

What did he have that kept him going as a boy in that horrible town? He had love. Love from his mother. Her voice as soft as the gentle breezes that tickled your face. Her eyes, a deep brown would shine with love and pride when she looked at him. Her hands, small and strong, could sting his bottom when necessary or caress the hurts away.

His beautiful mother was gone from this world. Her voice, he now heard in his head only. If he closed his eyes, he could see her eyes looking at him with love and pride. If he held his hands palm up, he could feel her taking his hands in hers and gently rubbing them as she spoke.

He was a full grown man, but still a boy in so many ways. He was a man who had made a decision to seek out his father’s family and claim what was rightfully his. He was a man who carried a large chip on his shoulder which masked all the inner turmoil of his emotions inside.

He was a man who stated he wanted what he was entitled to as far as money, prestige and a name. However, when he watched the family from afar after he first arrived in the valley, he felt a stirring deep within him. A stirring he didn’t understand, a stirring that created a longing for human companionship and comfort, a stirring to belong in a family that would surround him with love.

He didn’t understand it any better today than when he lived in the big house.

He didn’t understand how they could affect him as they did in such a short period of time.

He didn’t understand why he cried on the trail after he left the ranch.

He didn’t understand why he could not keep his emotions in check as he had before he came to the valley.

He didn’t understand it and wondered if there was something wrong in his head.

Why else would he be so upset at having left the place where so much anger and hurt had been brought to the surface when he arrived. He had arrived and upset their view of all that they held near and dear to their hearts. He had arrived and been forced to reveal who he was before he was ready. He had arrived and they had invited him to stay. He had arrived and he was working on the ranch which he had grown to love in a short time.

He had arrived, but then left after another argument with his dark haired brother, Nick. It was such a trivial thing that started it. But between him and Nick, that was all that it took to cause a rift as large as the Grand Canyon. Fists would be flying, bodies would be hitting the ground, eyes would see red as soon as the other spoke.

He had always prided himself on being able to work with anybody under any conditions, until he met his half brother, Nick. In all fairness, perhaps he could have been a little more tolerant with Nick. After all, he did shake the man’s confidence in all that he knew before his father’s unknown son had arrived. He tried as long as he could, it was not feasible to try any longer. It was not right to subject the others in the family to the tension that continued to climb in the house.

So, he had left and now was on his way to New Mexico. He had always liked it there. He knew of a couple ranches that would greet him with open arms for his talents in gentling horses and for the person he was. They treated him as an equal, not as a lower person in society. He had been happy there at one time in his life.

With the money he had earned and saved in the short time he was at the ranch, perhaps he could eventually have his own spread. He always wanted that. His goal was to be a successful rancher.

Ranching was the life he wanted and loved. The open air, the feel of a horse under you, the sun shining in your eyes. That was the life for him.

Sitting by the stream and enjoying the morning sunrise, Heath Thomson shook his head at his thoughts. Putting water in his coffeepot, he walked back and built up the fire. Taking some jerky out of his saddlebags, he methodically chewed on it while he waited for the coffee to boil.

Accustomed to traveling alone and aware of the dangers that could he found on any trail, he quickly stepped behind a tree when he heard a horse approaching.

Surprise and shock reflected openly on his face when the rider rode up and dismounted.

Chapter 2

“Aunt Rachel!” exclaimed Heath rushing over to the dark haired woman. “What are you doing here? How’d you? Where?”

Rachel grabbed her confused Heath and hugged him tightly. “Heath, I’m so glad we were able to find you.”

Questions were flying through his foggy mind as he walked her over to sit on a log. Heath poured her a cup of coffee and scolded his aunt. “Aunt Rachel, it’s dangerous for a woman to ride by herself. You could’ve been hurt or worse!”

Blowing softly on the coffee to cool it, Rachel nodded, “I know, Heath. I didn’t ride alone.”

Looking at her in surprise, he asked suspiciously, “Who else is with you? Uncle Matt?”

“Goodness, no.” replied Rachel. “One of your brothers brought me.”

“WHAT?” shouted Heath jumping to his feet. “ONE OF THE BARKLEYS? WHICH ONE?”

“I brought your aunt, Heath.” stated Nick walking Coco up to the camp and standing with reins in hand, the unshaded windows to Heath’s soul clearly revealing his shock at the sight of his half brother. Somehow he was not the one Heath would have expected.

“Aunt Rachel, I, uh, you better explain to me why you’re here with him, uh, Nick.” said Heath quietly rubbing his temples, feeling the granddaddy of all headaches coming on. “Nick, guess you better sit down.”

“Coffee ready?” inquired Nick receiving a nod from Heath. Grabbing two cups from his saddlebags, he handed one to Heath and poured coffee for both of them.

“Thanks.” replied Heath looking at his aunt with a raised eyebrow, signifying his desire for explanation to the shocks he received this morning.

“I would have wired, but the telegraph lines are down. I came to Stockton looking for you and Sheriff Maden brought me out to the Barkley ranch. He didn’t know you had left and since you didn’t write, I thought you were still there.”

“Sorry, Aunt Rachel. I wrote a letter, it’s in my saddlebags but I forgot to mail it.” apologized Heath. “I didn’t mean to worry you. Why were you looking for me?”

Squeezing his hand, Rachel sighed, “Hannah’s very sick, Heath. She’s at Pine Crest.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Heath’s voice shook, “What’s wrong with her? Is she gonna be all right?”

“She hadn’t been feeling well. I thought she had a flu virus. When she got worse, I took her over to Dr. Martin. She has typhoid fever.”

“Typhoid?” whispered Heath grabbing his aunt’s hand.

Taking a shaky breath, Rachel nodded, “Her fever became so high, she had a stroke and has been unconscious for several days. Dr. Martin’s prognosis is not promising, Heath. I knew you’d want to be there, so I went to Stockton to find you. ”

Nodding with agreement, not trusting himself to speak from the emotions choking him, Heath’s hand shook when he put the cup on the ground and walked over to his modoc. Grabbing the blanket and saddle, he made short work of saddling his mount.

Nick emptied and rinsed out the coffeepot and mugs. Dowsing the fire, he kicked dirt over it to ensure it wouldn’t re-ignite, receiving a nod of thanks from Heath who was helping Rachel onto her horse.

“Aunt Rachel, let me know when you get tired and we’ll stop. Pine Crest is a full day’s ride by the crow’s path from here.”

Cupping the cheek of her handsome nephew, Rachel smiled slightly, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I can rest after we get back to Hannah.”

Squeezing her hand, Heath nodded and mounted. The three riders headed to Pine Crest with Heath leading the way. His thoughts on the petite black woman who lay in a bed, her life draining out of her. Fearing he wouldn’t get there in time to say goodbye or to let her know how much she is loved, how much she meant to him.

Chapter 3

The sun was sweltering and unforgiving as the trio made their way towards Pine Crest. Stopping briefly for a quick lunch, Heath worried over the pace of riding. His aunt, while still an active woman, was not used to riding in the saddle for this duration of time. Rachel, however, would not be swayed from their journey knowing time was of the essence. She wanted to ensure Heath was there in time and did not want to be the reason for a delay.

Rachel had not wanted to leave Hannah, however, had no choice since she could not reach Heath by telegraph and a letter would be too slow. Dr. Martin had assured her he would take very good care of Hannah in her absence. Grateful to the doctor, Rachel hired the Pine Crest’s store owner’s nephew to take her to Stockton. The young man was pleased to earn the extra money and glad to be of assistance.

When his mother passed on, Heath was guilt ridden and angry for not arriving until just before her end on this earth. He had always taken things to heart. Not one to divulge what he was thinking, she had learned long ago how to read her nephew by his actions or inaction. Her instincts screamed out Heath would need to see Hannah and express his feelings in case of her death or he’d end up with more guilt to keep in his inner bottle.

His inner bottle, Leah had called it. The inner bottle inside her little boy housed all his hurts. When Heath was nine, Leah and Rachel could almost see the transformation taking place within him. This was the time he had come to understand if you hid your emotions, no one would know you were hurting and they couldn’t take as much pleasure in it.

Using his new found knowledge, he had learned to bottle everything up inside, keeping the lid tightly on it and never letting anything escape. Rachel silently wondered how long it would be before the bottle burst from all he had stored away over the years.

When Heath had taken off for Stockton, she and Hannah hoped he would find a place in his father’s family and settle down. For too many years, he had been unsettled in his life. For too many years, he wandered looking for whatever it was he needed to make himself whole.

Leah, in her estimation, was wrong in not telling Heath’s father about his existence. Rachel never fully understood but accepted her friend’s decision. Often when Heath was growing up, Rachel had pleaded with Leah to change her mind. Her pleadings fell upon deaf ears, Leah would never alter her decision.

Perhaps Leah was afraid his father would take him away and she would never see him again.

Perhaps Leah was doing it to spite his father for not returning to that god forsaken Strawberry.

Perhaps Leah was doing it because she was selfish and didn’t want to share her golden boy with anyone else.

Perhaps Leah was afraid Heath would love his father more than her.

Leah loved her son more than life itself - anyone with eyes could see that to be the gospel truth. The problem was Heath would never know or understand why. Just another hurt to put in his inner bottle. His departure from the Barkley ranch was another hurt he would’ve buried. Rachel wondered if Hannah’s possible death would create a crack in the inner bottle.

She knew the love that was inside Heath, yearning to be released and bestowed upon someone. She knew what family meant to him. She knew how deeply he cared for those around him and how he would do whatever it took to keep them safe from harm.

He could keep others safe but when it came to himself, he would take it all on himself, not letting anyone share his troubles. Bottling it up in his inner bottle. Some would think he let pain and strives roll off his back, Rachel knew better.

How much pain can one person keep hidden inside before an explosion would occur?

How much?

Chapter 4

Bringing up the rear of the group, Nick wondered why he was on his way to Pine Crest with Heath and his aunt.

When Rachel Caulfield had shown up at the house with the sheriff the day after Heath had left, the family was stunned. They weren’t aware Heath had relatives left in Strawberry. They knew his mother was dead, but no member of the Barkley family had thought to ask if there was anyone else left in Strawberry for him nor had Heath volunteered the information.

Miss Caulfield explained she was not an aunt by blood or marriage, but by friendship with Heath’s mother. Though her love for him was as deep as a mother’s for her child.

Miss Caulfield told the family, the only living relatives left of Heath’s were his aunt and uncle who owned the hotel in Strawberry. Heath did not claim them as family due to how they treated him and, more importantly, his mother in the past. To them, Heath was nothing more than a reminder of the shame brought onto the couple by his mother’s past actions.

Miss Caulfield was visibly upset when Heath was not at the Barkley ranch, the worry shining out of her brown eyes. Explaining the need for her urgency in finding Heath, the family was stunned again when Nick stated he had headed south.

Pushed to explain how he knew Heath’s direction, Nick admitted he had watched him riding out from Lookout Peak. His mother had explained Lookout Peak was the highest point around the ranch. From this point, you could see a good deal of the ranch and the surrounding valley.

Victoria persuaded Miss Caulfield to have lunch before going on the trail to catch up with Heath. It was discussed and decided Nick was the one most likely to catch up to Heath. He had more experience on trails than Jarrod or Eugene. The other members of the family were stunned again by Nick’s compliant agreement to the decision.

After Miss Caulfield expressed her gratitude to his mother, he had headed out with her on the trail of the man who was his half-brother and who had willingly given up all that it meant to be a Barkley.

This action alone by Heath caused Nick to question what he originally thought Heath was after when he had forced him to reveal who he was. No one in their right mind would give up all that came with being a Barkley to work for someone else or wander the countryside working from odd job to odd job.

He could tell Heath did not have much money from his clothes and the outfit he had brought with him to the ranch. The only things of real quality he had were his guns and horse. The boy certainly didn’t have a lot of money to waste on frivolous items.

Why go back to a life barely above poverty level? Why if the wealth of the Barkley family was within his grasp? Why would he do that? He had pondered the questions all day and night after Heath’s departure, unable to reach a conclusive answer.

Recalling the look in the blue eyes when Heath learned of Hannah’s condition, Nick’s gut twisted from the pain and anguish which had briefly flared there. The slight quiver in his voice caused a shiver to run down Nick’s back when he asked if Hannah would be all right.

Nick knew what the quiver in his voice was saying. Heath was afraid of losing someone else he loved. Someone who meant a great deal to him. Someone who was important to him. Someone who had been there for him as a child when his father wasn’t.

Nick shook his head, unsure of what he was feeling or why the little voice in his head told him he should ride along. He knew he could rely on his foreman to keep the ranch going in his absence and the other members of the family were there to assist.

The daylight was quickly fading and night was falling when Heath pulled to the side of the road. Rachel and Nick stopped beside him, Heath took in the lines of exhaustion on his aunt’s face.

“It’s another three hours to Pine Crest. How about if we camp here?” suggested Heath with a side glance at Nick.

“Heath, don’t stop on my account.” stated Rachel sitting up straighter. “I can make it.”

Catching the look in Heath’s eye when he glanced over, Nick rolled his shoulders and sighed, “It’s been a long day, Miss Caulfield. I, for one, could use a break. I’m not too sure I want to travel these trails at night.”

Nodding, Heath agreed, “Nick’s right, Aunt Rachel. I don’t cotton to riding these trails at night either. I’m not that familiar with them. A rest will do us good and we can start out before daybreak in the morning.”

Dismounting, Heath helped his aunt down and held onto her as she swayed slightly. Smiling gratefully, Rachel let him walk her over to lean against a tree stating she was to rest and he would put together a fire and then dinner.

Nick unsaddled the horses and led them to the stream for a drink. Picketing them on some grass, he gathered an armful of wood and brought it back to the campsite.

Kneeling down, he stacked the wood close by and barely caught the words whispered by Heath while he started the fire, “Thanks.”

Nick whispered back, startled by his own words, “That’s what brothers do for each other.”

Looking sharply at the dark haired man, Heath grunted and walked over to his saddlebags to retrieve the fixings for dinner.

Nick watched the retreating back wondering why those words slipped out. What exactly had he meant by them? What was Heath’s response to those spoken words meant to convey?

Chapter 5

Heath spread the sheet, folded his coat and smiled when he handed his aunt the blanket.

“Thank you and good night, Heath.” smiled Rachel placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Night, Aunt Rachel.” drawled Heath heading to the stream with the plates and silverware.

“Good night, Mr. Barkley.”

“Good night, Miss Caulfield.” replied Nick quietly turning slightly, watching Heath til he couldn’t see him in the darkness. Nick’s thoughts took him over the earlier whispered words, he lay down and stared up at the stars, looking for answers that could only be found in his own heart.

The darkness of the night surrounded Heath as he walked to the stream, the moon lit the way. Reaching the bank of the stream, he washed the plates and silverware, rinsing and piling them on a small rock. The rays of the moon cut a path across the water, it was beautiful and tranquil. Soaking in the sounds of the night, he let the still night air work it’s magic on him.

Pulling out his tobacco pouch and rolling a cigarette, he lit a match. He cupped it in his hand almost as if he were afraid a sudden flare of brash light in the darkness would somehow diminish the scenery before him. Blowing it out, he inhaled deeply on the cigarette letting the smoke even out his nerves while he thought of Hannah.

The tiny woman with hands half the size of his. The tiny woman that could create shame in him as a boy with one look of disappointment. The tiny woman who loved him without conditions, without reservation. The tiny woman whose voice was quiet but could bring down the rafters when she sang a gospel song for her maker.

Closing his eyes, he saw his Hannah. The image, his mind conjured up of Hannah was as clear as the last time he saw her on the stoop, before leaving for Stockton. When he saw her, Heath didn’t see color, he saw love.

The tiny woman he would be taking back to Strawberry from Pine Crest, one way or another with Aunt Rachel by his side. Typhoid could be a killer to someone Hannah’s age, her body had become frail with old age and hard living.

Grinning, Heath realized he didn’t know exactly how old Hannah was. He estimated she must be over fifty, maybe even sixty. If he had ever asked, she would’ve shook her finger and scolded him for asking such improper questions.

Hannah and Rachel were the only family he had left. When Hannah got better he would take her back to the little cabin and then look for a place for all three of them. A place far away from Strawberry, Aunt Martha and Uncle Matt.

Staring at the red fire on the end of his cigarette, he wondered why Nick Barkley was on the trail with them. Nick’s responsibility ended when he had brought Aunt Rachel to Heath safely. Why did he stay with them?

‘That’s what brothers do for each other.’ Why did he say that? Why would someone with so much outright hostility for me say something like that?

Thinking back on his time at the ranch, Heath grudgingly had to admit the rest of the Barkley family had extended kindness to him. Victoria Barkley had been the first and the others followed, except for Nick.

He had known from the very start where he stood with Nick. Nick, was after all, not a quiet person. He let his opinion be known and boy howdy, it was quite clear. No hemming or hawing with him. No straddling the fence with him. No skirting of issues or receiving lip service from that man.

The disagreements between them were sometimes no more than words, other times, the men would be pulling them off each other as they fought tooth and nail. Neither of them could be in the same room without rubbing the other wrong. Why was he still here?

Nick had admitted when his mother showed them a picture Heath was a spitting image of his uncle at a younger age. Even that admission from Nick had caused an argument between the two.

The last straw had been when Heath had not stacked the piles of feed to Nick’s specifications. In the area of the loft where it was normally stored, Heath found some rotting boards. He moved the feed to the other side and caused the bull of the family to see red, when he returned later in the afternoon. Not waiting for an explanation, Nick flew off the handle with Heath following shortly afterwards.

After cooling down, he realized no good would ever come of their association. Heath packed his saddlebags and left the Barkley family behind. He took his time on the trail, planning what he would do next.

Stopping that night, he slept soundly. Waking in the morning, he was surprised he did not have a repeat of the nightmares.

Nightmares of Carterson prison which he thought had been buried long ago. Nightmares which were fueled by the tension he had undergone each day.

Nightmares which could reduce him to cowering in a corner of his bedroom.

Nightmares which made him feel as if he were that terrified boy again.

Nightmares which had only started again after it was revealed he was the bastard son, was asked to move into the mansion where eggshells lined the floors and his steps were tentative, unsure and faltered.

Heath thought seeking out his father’s family had been the right choice, now he knew he had been wrong. Old feelings of unworthiness, shame, distrust of others and old fears long forgotten, returned with a vengeance to slap him in the face, causing him to see the reality of the situation.

Stealing his confidence, stealing his breath and stealing the peace he had slowly formed within himself over the years.

He was only twenty four years old and he had lived more than most fifty year olds. He had killed more men, seen more blood shed and violence than most people. He had never outwardly looked for violence, but it seemed always to be dogging his heels.

His first feel of violence had come from his aunt and uncle. His last over a man’s treatment of a young woman serving drinks in a saloon on the Klamath, just before he headed back to Strawberry to be with his mother when she passed on. His natural prowess with a gun saved his life on many occasions and even gotten him jobs as a deputy in a couple of towns.

How was it he had come to this place in his life? This impasse, this place where he wasn’t exactly sure where to go next.

Where do you go with a past like his? Where do you go to find peace? Where do you go to find some meaning in your life?

Looking up at the stars, Heath Thomson knew it wasn’t in Stockton.

He knew he’d never go back there.

Chapter 6

The three riders reached the outskirts of Pine Crest at seven the next morning. Rachel led them directly to the office of Dr. Martin. Knocking at the door, they were greeted by his nurse and daughter, Hope. Leading the three into the waiting area, she returned with her father.

“Miss Caulfield. I was worried about you.” said Dr. Martin, his gray eyes lighting up with relief. “Miss James is alive but still unconscious. I’m afraid it won’t be much longer.”

Heath’s deep sigh echoed throughout the room. His prayers had been answered, he had arrived in time.

“Dr. Martin, this is my nephew Heath Thomson. This is Nick Barkley.” informed Rachel.

Both men shook the hand of the doctor, nodding their greeting.

Heath inquired, “Dr. Martin, can we see Hannah?”

“Certainly. This way.”

Heath and Rachel followed the physician towards the inner door. Stopping, Rachel turned to look at Nick, standing alone and twirling his hat.

“Mr. Barkley, thank you for your assistance.” smiled Rachel, nodding to Heath’s words in her ear. Patting his arm, she followed Dr. Martin through the open door.

Walking back to his half-brother, Heath slowly held out his hand and Nick took it in his.

“Thanks for bringing Aunt Rachel. You can head back to Stockton now.” stated Heath releasing the hand and heading back to the door.

Finding his voice, Nick stammered, “Heath, I, uh, well we need to talk.”

Staring at the dark haired man, Heath shook his head. “Go back to your family and I’ll stay with mine.”

Strong, confident, forthright Nick Barkley stood watching the tan vested back disappear through the open door. The wind taken out of his sails by Heath’s simple statement, the clear dissection and splitting of the family units.

He thought over his actions last night and came to realize that whether he liked it or not, he had another brother. One that was a man, but his brother nonetheless.

A man who was entitled to what came with being a Barkley. A man whose quiet words just spoke volumes, dismissing him and the Barkley family from his life. That man would walk away from it all and Nick knew he shouldn’t, no, he couldn’t let that happen.

Sitting down on the couch in the waiting area, Nick ran his fingers through his hair. Nick was a man who took the bull by the horns, running full steam ahead driven by his inner sense of right and wrong, respected by those who worked for him, capable of leaving a lasting impression on all he met, leader of the biggest ranch in the valley.

He was a rancher and a man’s man. The feel of a horse, the calluses on his hands and the daily strain on his muscles were things he knew about, things he could feel, things he could understand.

He was a man who knew his path in life but now, was unsure of what to do, how to proceed. This situation was out of his league. Talking about feelings, striving to be persuasive – Nick had no idea how to do that or what words to use.

How does one talk to a brother who came to their family with twenty four years of living under his belt?

How does one talk to a brother who came to their family with twenty four years of anger and hurt at their father who was responsible for his birth?

How does one get his new brother to accept what the family had to offer?

How does one do that?

Chapter 7

Hope led Heath to a door, stopped from opening it by a large hand on hers and a soft drawl, “I need just a minute, Miss Martin.”

Hope smiled and whispered, “Go in when you’re ready, Mr. Thomson.”

Nodding, he watched her disappear down the hallway and through another door. Taking a deep breath, he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes tightly. Forcing the pounding of his heart to slow, preparing himself for what he was about to see. Heath opened the door and gently closed it behind him.

Rachel stood at the side of the bed quietly speaking with Dr. Martin when Heath entered the room. She clearly saw the shock in the pale blue eyes of her nephew. His eyes matched the face which turned pale at the impending death he could feel hovering around Hannah.

His legs seemed too heavy for him to lift, his steps slow and shaky to the bedside. A shaky hand reached out tentatively for the small dark one laying on the white sheet. Holding the small hand as if he were afraid he’d crush it. He leaned over and placed a tender kiss on Hannah’s forehead.

He ran his eyes over every feature in the small face while gently caressing her hand. Hannah was a small woman, but lying on the white sheets in the bed, she appeared to have shrank in size. Her black hair lined heavily with gray had always been styled in a bun, now spread across the pillow on which she lay.

Lifting a hand, he stroked the shiny hair and whispered in her ear. Tears fell out of his eyes, his voice became thick with emotion. The words of endearment leaving his lips, hoping they would find their way to wherever she was.

Sitting on the bed, his voice trembled as he quietly sang her favorite gospel song, holding her hand, keeping a physical link with the tiny woman while she undertook the journey to another place.

Rachel and Dr. Martin wiped the tears from their eyes and left the room. Rachel sat in the chair the physician brought for her, allowing her nephew private time with the woman who loved and helped to raise him.

Heath was a strong and a stubborn man in a lot of ways. In one way, he was a weak man. It was not weakness of character, but weakness created by love and his depth of caring.

A good weakness and a crippling weakness.

A weakness from the emotions that ran deep for those he cared about.

A weakness which could lift him higher than the mountain tops.

A weakness which could bring him down as low as the depths of a deep well.

A weakness with the potential to drive him to his knees.

Arriving in time to say good-bye to Hannah would help him deal with his loss. To get through Hannah’s death, such a short time after his mother’s, would require all the strength of will and stubbornness he possessed.

Rachel found her thoughts turning to Heath’s inner bottle. Is there space in it for another hurt? Will this cause it to shatter?

Chapter 8

Vacant blue eyes met concerned hazel eyes across the waiting room.

Nick Barkley was still here. Unable to comprehend the reason and uncaring at the moment, Heath stumbled past him to the night outside.

Holding onto the rail of the porch, Heath took deep breaths of the cool air. Shame flared through him when he felt the air enter his lungs, the knowledge Hannah had breathed her last air on this earth was overwhelming his senses.

Why did I leave? If I hadn’t gone to Stockton or if only she had gotten here sooner. Dr. Martin would’ve been able to give her the Calomel sooner, the fever wouldn’t have caused a stroke and maybe her life would have been saved.

He had let Hannah down by traipsing off looking for…for…God only knew what he had been looking for! He should’ve been satisfied with what he had, he hadn’t been and it cost Hannah her life.

Wiping at his eyes, he shuddered as he fought to control the turmoil within himself. Hearing the door open, he inhaled a shaky breath at the heavy footsteps sounding on the porch.

“Go back to Stockton.” stated Heath, his hands holding a white knuckled grip on the wood rail.

Ignoring the coldness in Heath’s voice, Nick sat on the top of the porch railing. His voice, quiet and soothing in the darkness, “I’m sorry about Miss James, Heath.”

Heath felt as though his innards were going to burst from the inside out. His body shook, his jaw clenched tightly, his hands ached from the grip on the rail. His vision fixed on a spot on the ground while he sought for the control he needed.

Nick Barkley was the last person he needed to deal with now.

Nick Barkley was the last person he wanted around.

Nick Barkley was the last person he wanted to see the sobbing, he knew would start shortly, if he couldn’t get himself under control.

“Just go away, Nick.” Heath’s choked words were forced out from his clenched teeth.

Nick watched Heath straining and fighting for self-control. He felt the need to protect and comfort him welling up. He had a sudden urge to squeeze his shoulder and tell him he understood how it was to lose someone you loved.

He stopped his arm from reaching out. Heath wouldn’t be accepting of the brotherly gesture and it’d be another source of anger and pain. He didn’t want to be another source of pain for Heath now.

“LEAVE!” shouted Heath angrily, his body rigid and yet, coiled intensely, like a cobra’s before striking out.

Standing, Nick took a deep breath, “I’m going, Heath. I rented some rooms for you and Miss Caulfield at the hotel. I’ve taken care of the horses, they’re at the livery. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Nick turned to leave and was propelled backwards by the hand that grabbed his shoulder. His breath pushed out of his lungs when he was thrown up against the wall of the building by the hands holding the front of his shirt. Startled, he looked into the flashing blue eyes.

“Listen to me, Nick Barkley! I will NOT see you in the morning! I do NOT want or need your help!” snapped Heath. “LEAVE!”

“HEATH THOMSON!” shouted Rachel. “LET YOUR BROTHER GO!”

Glaring into the hazel eyes, Heath loosened his grip on Nick’s shirt and stepped back. Rachel walked over and held onto Heath’s arm with a firm grasp.

“It was considerate of Mr. Barkley to procure us rooms at the hotel. May I suggest we use them, Heath?”

If Nick hadn’t been so startled by the unbridled rage in the blue eyes, he would have laughed at the look on his brother’s face. It reflected disbelief, outrage and shock, mixed with the look of an errant schoolboy.

Through his rage, Heath heard his aunt’s words and more importantly, her tone of voice. Biting down on the words wanting to be released from the tip of his tongue, he took a shaky breath.

“Yes, Aunt Rachel.”

“Good. Will you accompany us, Mr. Barkley?” asked Rachel.

Surprised, Nick glanced quickly at Heath’s downcast face. “Ah, sure. Miss Caulfield, I’m terribly sorry about Miss James.”

“Thank you.” murmured Rachel pulling firmly on Heath’s arm, leading him off the porch.

The three walked to the hotel and retrieved the keys to the rooms. Seeing Rachel to her room, Heath kissed her cheek and waited until he heard the locking of the door before heading to his room down the hall. Glancing at Nick, he shook his head when Nick opened his mouth.

“Go back to your ranch.” growled Heath, opening his door and slamming it shut.

Staring at the closed door, Nick sighed and entered his room.

Laying on his bed later that evening, Heath’s eyes flashed before him. Nick had never seen such rage in his eyes before. He had seen anger and pain, but never anything like that seething rage. It was almost as if he were about to explode.

‘I’m the match and he’s the dynamite.’ A dark scowl formed on Nick’s face. He shook his head to clear it of the destructive thoughts.

Chapter 9

Rachel locked the door behind her and sat heavily on the bed, her body quivering with grief and fear.

Quivering with grief over the loss of her good friend. A friend who through the years gave joy, companionship and love to her. A friend who never asked for anything from anyone but who would give all she had if it was requested.

Quivering with fear over the look in her nephew’s eyes. The light from the inside had shone across his face on the porch, the look in his eyes turned her stomach.

Those eyes could be so expressive when he wasn’t smothering his emotions.

Those eyes could turn icy cold when facing an enemy.

Those eyes could sparkle and overflow with love.

Those eyes could shine with mischief.

Those eyes tonight carried a look she had never seen before.

She had seen Heath angry in the past, but tonight it was different and it frightened her. When she ordered Heath to release his brother, the thought flashed briefly through her mind, ‘What if he doesn’t let go? What will you do?’

She’d been greatly relieved when he obeyed and stepped back. When she put her hand on his arm, she had been alarmed at the shaking in his body.

Closing her eyes, she fought the fear she felt rising in her. Heath would never knowingly hurt her, but a man with that kind of rage inside of him, may not be aware of what he’s doing, should it take over.

When she had gone to their ranch, she could see the concern they held for Heath, well, all except Nick. Nick’s attitude towards Heath had changed or so it seemed. Could they be what Heath needed to calm him, to help him see his way through?

Sighing, Rachel knew Heath was not planning on returning to Stockton. She didn’t know what had happened, but understood the conflicts between he and Nick were the reason for his early departure.

It seemed the inner bottle inside her nephew had cracked, leaving him teetering on the edge of a precipice. His balance thrown off, his arms flapping wildly while he tried to regain his footing to keep from falling over the edge.

Looking out the window, Rachel wondered if the Barkley family was the key to soothing the rage, the cracked inner bottle was releasing, inside Heath Thomson, human volcano.

How do you calm the raging fire within a volcano?

How do you stop a volcano from exploding?

Chapter 10

The full moon shone down from the sky cast its glow on the world below. The world lay tranquil and peaceful, no sounds could be heard.

Sitting on the balcony of his hotel room, Heath Thomson wasn’t aware of the glory of the circular object in the sky, he wasn’t aware of the sound of the piano playing in the saloon down the street, he wasn’t aware his brother was in the next room awake like he was and he wasn’t aware of the man who watched the hotel from the shadows.

He was only aware of his sense of loss.

Another loved one gone, never to return except in his dreams.

Another loved one gone, a spot of sunshine in his dismissal years in Strawberry.

Another loved one gone, there was only one left – Aunt Rachel.

‘What about the Barkleys? They’re family.’

The thought flashed through his mind, quick as a lightning bolt streaking across the sky. Pouring another shot, he let the smooth liquor slide down his throat, shaking his head at the forbidden thought. Leaning his head back against the wall, he inhaled deeply on his cigarette.

It had been two days since Hannah’s death. Arrangements had been made, a wagon rented and tomorrow they were taking Hannah back to Strawberry.

Nick Barkley was still in Pine Crest.

Despite repeated angry orders to leave, Nick stood his ground, not budging an inch, withstanding the anger from the younger man. Heath finally stopped ordering, not cause he wanted Nick around, but because of the tears in Aunt Rachel’s eyes during the last confrontation.

Almost coming to blows with Nick, Rachel was terrified at the rage exuding from her nephew. She had burst into tears from the additional emotional trauma and the fear inside. Heath was guilt ridden from the pain he was causing her, so soon after Hannah’s death. Conceding to her wishes of no more confrontations, he agreed, Nick could stay until they returned to Strawberry.

Nick joined them at mealtimes. Nick accompanied them to make the arrangements. Nick spent his time with them and Heath chose to keep silent, openly conversing with his aunt while ignoring his brother who stood next to his side.

Nick would wink at Rachel and grin widely at Heath. Nick was not about to let Heath get under his skin or drive him away. Nick and Heath were in a battle of wills, one Rachel watched with interest.

Which one would win? Both were stubborn. Both were pigheaded. Both were ready to stay their course, no matter what. Yep, they’re brothers.

Since leaving the Barkley ranch, Heath found himself thinking of his future. A future with Aunt Rachel and a new place to call home. A ranch that was his own, with horses and cattle. A ranch that was small, yet with potential to expand over the years. He knew of the perfect location for his ranch.

He needed more money to make that dream come true.

In the mountains around Strawberry were wild horse herds. These horses could be caught, broken and sold. He had watched the herds before heading to Stockton and knew the quality of horseflesh that could be found.

It would be a lot of work, but would expand his savings faster than working as a ranch hand. He had done it alone before and could do it again.

Satisfied with the plans he had conceived, Heath entered his room and lay on his bed.

Tomorrow, Hannah will lay beside mama. Tomorrow night, Nick Barkley will be laying in his own bed in Stockton.

Chapter 11

Strawberry, California.

In its heyday, Strawberry was a thriving, pulsating town. The money was free flowing, the men loud and gregarious, the woman in the saloons painted and wildly dressed. It was a place where fortunes were made and men left penniless.

In its heyday, every shyster, con man, gambler, hired gun, fortune teller and snake oil peddling medicine man would seek out Strawberry. A place where the easy score was to be made. A place where the law was virtually non-existent. A place where the gold from the mines was the major source of income to its residents.

In its heyday, the town smelled of baked goods, horses and smoke. People walked on the boardwalks and in the street. The traffic was fast, wagons rumbling down the street, horses held to a walk by the hands on their reins, children and dogs running between the moving objects, chasing each other or a wooden ring.

This was the den of inequity. This was the place into which Heath Thomson was born and raised. This was his hometown.

Now, Strawberry was a place covered in dust, dirt and grime. Degenerated buildings, windows broken, shutters hanging down with tumbleweeds snuggling against the doors.

Roofs with holes in them, missing shingles, exposed trestles, birds and bats residences of the buildings, boardwalks with missing boards and water troughs dry as the desert. Hitching rails lay on the ground or leaning, waiting for a strong wind to send them to their final resting spot in the dust.

Ruts and potholes lined the streets. Only tumbleweeds, stray cats, mice and other varmints ran down the byways now.

The town smelled of neglect, rotting and death. No fortunes to be made here anymore. No easy scores to be made. No sounds of laughter, shouting, shots or jiggling of the ivory keys on a piano were heard now. No one ever came here except if they were lost or visiting one of the few people that still dwelled in this desolate place.

In the early morning light, Nick Barkley rode Coco, his eyes taking in the place where his Father met Heath’s mother. Trying to envision the town as it was over twenty five years ago, unable to make that visualization in his head with what lay before his eyes while he followed the wagon carrying the simple pine box into the graveyard.

Jumping down from the wagon, Heath reached up and lifted his aunt down. Nick dismounted and tied Coco to the haphazard fence. Rachel headed away from the cemetery towards a small cabin lined with a collapsing picket fence, flowers in the window boxes and two chairs on the front porch.

Meeting Heath at the back of the wagon, he was startled when words broke the silence.

“Stay away from the hotel.” warned Heath grabbing the pick and heading into the cemetery.

Nick took the shovel out of the wagon and stood patiently waiting for Heath to pay his respects to his mother, walking over after his brother drove the pick into the ground.

Working steadily in the chill of the early morning, the brothers did not converse, their thoughts kept to themselves as they methodically dug into the earth. The morning passed quickly, the only break taken when Rachel brought fresh water to satisfy their thirst and replenish much needed fluids in the rapidly rising temperatures.

Their bodies and clothes became covered with dust and grime, the hole becoming deeper until they reached the standard depth and width. Climbing out, they wiped the sweat off their foreheads and returned to the wagon.

Carrying the casket between them and grunting from exertion, they slowly made their way to the grave, carefully placing the pine box in its resting place. Rachel arrived from her home with a bible. Standing hatless and heads bowed, the brothers listened to the simple, love filled ceremony celebrating the life of Hannah James.

Nick and Heath completed the sad task of piling dirt on the pine box, encasing it in a blanket of brown, shutting out the sunshine and the rest of the world to its occupant.

Taking the shovel from Nick, Heath threw it in the back of the wagon. Climbing up, he mounted and backed the wagon out of the cemetery.

“There’s a stream about 100 yards that way. You can clean up there.” stated Heath jumping down and gesturing towards the trees which bordered the cemetery.

“Aren’t you coming?” asked Nick.

Heath retorted, “Boy Howdy, you need me to hold your hand?”

Biting back the angry reply, Nick shook his head, “No thanks.”

Grabbing a clean shirt from his saddlebags, Nick headed to the stream. Heath knelt before the two graves, lost deep in his thoughts, the approaching footsteps unheard in the grass.

Chapter 12

“So, the bastard returns.”

Standing, Heath put on his hat and turned to face his uncle, Matt Simmons. The man responsible for nothing but misery, pain and anguish in his life as a boy. The man who should have been a role model for a growing boy, instead the subject of nightmares. Beatings, insults and whippings were handed to a young Heath by this pathetic excuse for a human being standing in front of him.

Coldly staring into the eyes of the older man, Heath growled, “What do ya’ want?”

Disgust and contempt flashed across his uncle’s face. Walking around Heath and looking at the simple marker on the new grave, Matt snorted, “A whore and a crazy old woman.”

Heath clenched his fists, his words fraught with fury as he snarled. “You better leave while you’re able!”

Matt watched the body of his good for nothing nephew shaking with anger. Matt Simmons had been drinking, his days spent imbibing in alcohol to drown out the life he had carved for himself. Blaming his failures on everything and everyone except where the blame actually lay.

Heath and his mother, Leah, were treated as if they were lower than scum by he and his wife in the past. No family loyalty could ever be found in Matt towards his sister. He always felt Heath should have been put in an orphanage or killed at birth.

Blaming an innocent baby for the shame brought upon he and his wife.

Blaming a an innocent baby for misfortunes befalling them.

Blaming an innocent baby because it was easier than admitting one’s own shortfalls of character.

Matt Simmons could be a dangerous man when sober. Killing someone to obtain what he wanted was not a foreign idea to him. In fact, his past actions were the reason he no longer used the surname, Thomson.

Alcohol created in him a false sense of importance, a false sense of security, a false sense that this was the same scared boy in front of him.

Gesturing at the graves, Matt smirked, “Now, your whore mother has a friend with her.”

The bellow of rage reached Nick’s ears when he was putting on his shirt. Grabbing his gun belt, he ran towards the sound coming from his little brother.

Matt Simmons’ alcohol dulled mind knew his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.

Heath let out an unworldly howl of rage and dove into his uncle. Pushing him backwards into the dust, his fists pummeling the man. Scrambling away, Matt sprang up and kicked Heath in the stomach. Doubling over, Heath gasped for air, pain exploding in the side of his face when a boot kissed his jaw.

Shaking his head, Heath brought him down by grabbing and sharply twisting the boot coming towards him again. Cursing loudly at his uncle, Heath sat on top of him hitting his head against the ground. Matt’s fists found his nephew’s face and body.

Ignoring the blows, Heath was unaware his hands were wrapped around his uncle’s throat, squeezing the life slowly out of him, the rage taking over blocking out all sense of reason.

Nick ran over, shocked at the sight of the man under Heath whose face was slowly turning blue from the shortage of oxygen. Grabbing at Heath’s arms and hands, Nick pulled at them trying to break the herculean hold.

Screaming at Heath to let him go, Nick panicked from the wild look in the blue eyes.

“LET HIM GO!” screamed Nick.

The frantic movement of the man’s hands and legs were slowing, his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

“HEATH BARKLEY, YOU’RE KILLING HIM!”

Blinking in shock, Heath stared at Nick and then down at his uncle laying underneath him. Releasing his hold, Heath fell over onto the ground, his breath coming in gasps. Shudders running through his body, tears mixing with blood, pain etched in his face.

Nick knelt beside Heath, the man coughing and taking deep breaths of precious air. Anger flared in the man’s eyes, his hand went back for his gun, only stopping at the pistol pointed at him.

“You better get outta here or I’ll let my brother finish what he started.” replied Nick, cocking his pistol to drive the point home.

Struggling to his feet, Matt staggered back to the hotel, his hands shaking with anger and fear, aware his life had only been spared by mere seconds.

Chapter 13

Waiting until the man entered the dilapidated hotel down the street, Nick looked down at Heath. Bruises forming on the face of his brother, blood running down from a cut on his forehead, the shuddering in his body had ceased.

“Heath?” asked Nick quietly seeing his eyes closed.

Opening his eyes, Heath pushed himself up, biting his lip to hold in the moans from the bruises that were making themselves known. Wiping the blood out of his eye, he climbed slowly to his feet, the burst of frenzied energy leaving him drained.

“Is that why you said to stay away from the hotel?”

“My loving relatives.” replied Heath bending over to retrieve his hat, brushing at the dirt on his clothes.

“Heath, are you all right?” asked Rachel, breathing heavily from running over to the brothers.

“I’m fine, Aunt Rachel. I’m gonna clean up for lunch.” stated Heath walking to the stream Nick had just left, leaving the others behind.

Nick walked with Rachel back to the cabin leading the team. Tying the horses to the fence, Nick waited outside for Heath to return. Thirty minutes had passed and still no sign of his brother.

Concern moved his feet to the stream hidden by the trees. Retracing his earlier steps, Nick approached the freshly bathed blonde leaning against a tree, a bloody cloth held up to his forehead.

“You okay?” inquired Nick eyeing the material.

“I would’ve killed him, Nick. Not that he don’t deserve it, but it’d upset Aunt Rachel.” said Heath his eyes looking forward. “Thanks for stopping me.”

Shrugging, Nick grinned slightly, “You woulda done the same for me.”

“You sound mighty sure of that.” stated Heath checking the cloth satisfied the blood had stopped flowing, standing on his feet. “Nice to be sure.”

Frowning, Nick let Heath’s words roll around in his head. Wondering exactly what they were meant to convey. Deciding to forego asking him at this moment, he filed it away with all the other questions he wanted to ask.

“I was thinking maybe I should stay a couple more days in case your uncle tries something else.” suggested Nick hazel eyes lighting up with hope.

“He won’t try anything.” snorted Heath buttoning up his shirt. “It’s a lot different than hitting a boy who can’t hit back.”

The repercussions of Heath’s words resonated in Nick’s head. Heath glanced sideways at Nick, stopping at the shock appearing on the dark haired one’s face.

“What’s the matter?” asked Heath puzzled by the look.

“Your uncle beat you?” blurted Nick angrily. “A boy?”

“Aunt Rachel’s waiting on us for lunch.” stated Heath walking past Nick, ignoring the outburst and question his offhand remark caused.

Heath looked down at the hand that grabbed his arm, halting his progress back to the cabin. Lifting his blue eyes up, he said quietly, “I’d remove that if I was you.”

“Why didn’t anyone do something about it?” asked Nick. “You were just a boy!”

“Nobody cares what happens to a bastard born in a mining camp. Nobody would get involved for fear they’d get the same. I didn’t have no high and mighty daddy to take care of me!.” retorted Heath angrily shaking the hand off his arm. “Welcome to my world, Nick Barkley!”

“I’m your brother and I’m here now, Heath.” stated Nick firmly. “Give me, US, a chance to be brothers.”

“It’s too late for that, Nick. Go back where you belong.”

“You expect me to leave and never return?” shouted Nick, anger reddening his face. “I can’t do that! You’re part of the Barkley family. WE STICK TOGETHER!”

“My name is Thomson, not Barkley.” snapped Heath walking away, leaving a frustrated and dejected Nick standing by the stream.

Chapter 14

From her bedroom window, Victoria watched Nick heading out on Coco early Friday morning. For the past three weeks, he occupied his weekends with the same routine. Riding to Strawberry on Fridays and returning on Monday. Many lovely maidens in Stockton wondered about the disappearance of the handsome Barkley son from the weekend socials.

Smiling, Victoria headed down the stairs. If one thing could be said about all her children - it was the grit and staying power they had when they set a goal in their minds. All were tenacious like a bulldog worrying a bone, stubborn as a mule refusing to take a step.

Nick’s goal was one they all held near to their hearts. Bringing Heath back into the Barkley family.

The first Monday he returned sporting new bruises, declining to divulge exactly what happened to earn the bruises to his siblings. Later Nick confessed to his mother, Heath’s anger at his sudden appearance in Strawberry, the heated words and the fight that ensued. Rachel Caulfield patched them up afterwards, both men earning a serious tongue lashing from the normally quiet and calm woman.

The second Monday he returned with new bruises and limping after dismounting from Coco, having fallen from the roof of Rachel Caulfield’s cabin. He decided to repair some shingles on her cabin while he waited for his brother to return from his trip into the mountains. Heath’s sudden angry shout caused him to loose his balance and fall to the ground below. His spirits dampened from the uncaring response of Heath to his fall.

“If you stayed where you belonged, you wouldn’t have fallen.” snorted Heath callously turning his back on his brother. Heath’s actions earned him another severe tongue lashing from his aunt.

The third Monday he returned to the ranch leading a horse. The wide smile never leaving his face while he showed the horse off. The gentleness of the newly broken horse surprising everyone. Nick had mentioned casually Audra’s birthday was approaching and Heath had surprised him with the gift of the mare for his new little sister before he left Strawberry. Audra’s eyes filled with tears of happiness and sadness at the gift Heath bestowed upon her.

Later that evening, Nick’s smile disappeared when Jarrod wondered why Heath was capturing and breaking wild horses. Nick’s thoughts were broadcast to his family members by the dark scowl appearing on his face. The question remaining in his mind all week, torturing his sleep with the unknown answer, the answer he knew he wasn’t going to like, if his little brother would even respond.

Riding into Strawberry late Friday, Nick dismounted in front of the small cabin. Walking up, he knocked on the door. Receiving no response, he turned to go and caught sight of the paper wedged in the door. Taking it out, he saw it was addressed to him.

Nick Barkley.

If you show up uninvited.

Go back where you belong.

We won’t be back til Sunday.

Heath Thomson

Sighing deeply, Nick reread the note and crumpled it in his fist. Nick placed Audra’s letter to Heath in the door. Frustration and anger had him stalking to Coco, heading back to Stockton. Frustration and anger eventually gave way to a shaking of his head and a smirk to curl his lip.

“At least he left a note, Coco. We could’ve been waiting there all weekend.”

Coco twirled his ears in response. Leaning forward to pet his mount’s neck, Nick fell off his horse from the bullet entering his side, the ground rising as darkness slid down.

Chapter 15

Over the years, Heath worked at different occupations, one job was being a deputy for Frank Sawyer. Spanish Camp was a haven for criminals at the time Frank Sawyer was hired to be the sheriff.

After pinning on the badge, Frank hired Heath in the next breath. Recognizing the quick reflexes and steady nerves of the youngster, knowing this was a man who wouldn’t cut and run during battle. Recognizing inside Heath Thomson, his strong inner sense of justice, right and wrong.

Between the two of them, Spanish Camp had been cleaned up within six long and grueling months. The criminal element seeking better climates for their health after seeing the two in action.

During the six months, both had killed men in gun battles. Heath whose prowess with a knife matched his skill with a gun, killed a man in a knife fight. Dave Matson, gambler and cheat, had used riverboat tricks on the unsuspecting.

A few of the unsuspecting decent citizens of Spanish Camp complained to Frank Sawyer. Frank in turn sent Heath into the saloon to force a game between Matson and himself. Heath entered into the poker game against the gambler. His years of handling cards serving him well in the contest.

Spectators watched the game throughout the night, both men winning and losing pots to each other. As the night weaned on, Dave Matson grew desperate when the pile of money in front of him started to disappear. Believing his skill was greater than any man’s, he used his bag of tricks against the quiet deputy. Heath’s amusement grew as he countered each of the riverboat tricks.

At last, growing tired of the game, Heath revealed to all in the saloon, the cheat. Grabbing the arm of Matson, Heath pulled two aces out of his sleeve. Matson grabbed for his gun, Heath punched him and sent him flying to the floor. Heath took his gun away and was cut on the arm by the knife Matson took out of his boot. A vicious fight occurred between the two and Heath emerged the victor.

Dave Matson had an older brother, Jake Matson, who adored his younger brother. He knew of his brother’s line of business, his pension for cheating.

Jake Matson had taught his brother those skills, had raised him when their parents were killed and swore revenge when he learned of his brother’s death. He traveled to Spanish Camp but was too late. The deputy who brought him down had moved on.

Over the past two years, he would arrive a day or two behind the unknowing former deputy in his search. Seeing the prey’s name on the hotel register in Pine Crest, Jake watched his movements from afar, taking great interest in the brother by the different name.

Trailing the three to Strawberry, Matson watched through his binoculars as the two men dug the grave, saw the fight between Heath Thomson and the man from the hotel.

Jake Matson was watching when Nick Barkley mounted and rode off to the west. He was watching when Heath Thomson mounted and rode into the mountains. For three weeks, Matson watched the comings and goings of Thomson and Barkley. For three weeks, he gained information from a drinking Matt Simmons who readily volunteered information.

Jake was careful to avoid the woman married to Simmons. Looking into her eyes only once, he could see the insanity that lay behind them. He had no interest in any woman, just Heath Thomson and how he would pay.

He had been watching when Thomson stuck a paper in the door before he and his aunt left. Waiting until they were out of the area, he made his way to the cabin, read the note and smiled. Years of searching and thirsting for revenge were about to pay off.

Heading to the spot he had staked out on the trail heading west, he waited for the unsuspecting bait to arrive. Slowly squeezing the trigger, his bullet found it’s mark. Galloping over, he turned the unconscious man over, removed his gun and shoved a piece of cloth over the entrance of the wound.

“Don’t want you to die just yet.” Matson informed Nick, who lay unaware of the man or his words.

Walking over to Coco, Matson spoke quietly to the jittery horse. Taking a hold of the reins, he lead him over to his horse. Looping a rope over his neck, he snubbed the end to his saddle horn. Bending, he lifted Nick up onto Coco’s saddle and tied his hands to the saddle horn. Mounting, he left the trail continuing through the trees until he reached the abandoned mine.

Chapter 16

Saturday morning, Heath stood waiting for Aunt Rachel in the mercantile. Pine Crest was the closest town where they could purchase supplies, thus, once every two months, the trip would be made for items they could not make or grow themselves.

The night before his sleep had been plagued by nightmares. Finally, realizing the futility of sleeping, Heath lay in bed struggling to think of the ranch he would be buying shortly, but thoughts of the Barkleys kept popping into his mind. Frowning, he wondered why he was thinking of them.

Heading to the dining room earlier than usual in the morning, his appetite was nonexistent, he ordered coffee and toast only. The coffee in his veins had given him a jump-start of energy from his lack of sleep.

A nagging feeling kept tugging at him, a feeling that something wasn’t right. The nagging feeling persisted, growing as the sun slowly rose above the horizon.

Rachel joined him and agreed to heading back to Strawberry as soon as they purchased their supplies. Unable to explain the anxiety that was grabbing at him, Heath waited impatiently.

Helping his aunt up into the wagon, he threw the supplies in the back and took off for Strawberry at a fast clip. Reaching the dismal town before noon, he helped her down. Reaching the door, Rachel called him over at the note in her hand.

On an envelope with Audra’s handwriting that was addressed to him was a second note.

Heath Thomson, I have Nick Barkley. If you want your brother back, meet me at your corral. Jake Matson.

“Heath, who’s Jake Matson and why would he take Nick?” asked Rachel.

Puzzled, Heath shook his head, “I’m not sure. I knew a Dave Matson once, down in Spanish Camp. Might be a relative of his.”

Unlocking the door, Rachel chewed on her lower lip, “Are you, um, going after Nick?”

Startled, Heath snapped, “Of course I am, he’s my brother!”

The harsh words left Heath’s mouth, automatically at the insinuation in his aunt’s question and his face turned crimson. “Sorry, Aunt Rachel.”

Smiling slightly, Rachel said quietly, “Yes, you are his brother.”

“I’m gonna leave my modoc here. If I’m not back by nightfall with Nick, you’d better hightail it to Pine Crest for the sheriff.” stated Heath unhitching the horse from the wagon, grabbing a hunk of mane and swinging onto its back.

“I will.” replied Rachel.

“Wire the Barkleys, if we don’t show up.”

Receiving a nod from his aunt, Heath turned the mare and started towards the corral he had built in the mountains, questions running through his mind.

Was Nick alive?

Who was Jake Matson?

If Nick died, how would he explain that to the Barkleys?

Heath’s gut wrenched at the thought of Nick’s death and how much he’d actually miss his brother.

HOW HAD THAT HAPPENED?

Chapter 17

Reaching the corral which housed the remainder of the down payment on his ranch, Heath slid off his horse and looked around.

“Nice to finally meet you, Deputy Thomson.”

Turning slowly, Heath looked at the man. Jake Matson smiled, his tanned face showing off his white teeth. Heath watched as the man who was at least two inches taller and thirty pounds heavier than him walked closer.

“Do I know you, mister?” inquired Heath quietly.

“No, you knew my brother, Dave.” replied Matson stopping a few yards away, caution and recognition flared in the blue eyes that were regarding him.

“Where’s Nick Barkley?” asked Heath sizing up the man, watching him closely.

Chuckling, Matson said, “Don’t you mean your brother? Maybe I killed him like you killed Dave? Maybe he’s alive and ten yards, fifty yards or fifty miles from here.”

“Your brother pulled a knife on me. I was just doing my job.” stated Heath calmly. “Nick hasn’t done anything to you or your family.”

“That’s true, Thomson. I have to give you that, but I needed some bait to make sure you’d come willingly.” smiled Matson.

“Well, I’m here, Matson.” snapped Heath. “Now, let Barkley go!”

“You know something? My brother was very handy with his knife. I’m going to give you the another chance to prove how good you really are. You and I, now with knives. If I win, you and your brother are dead.”

“What if I win?” asked Heath, his chilling blue eyes piercing Matson’s dark ones. “After all I beat your brother, I might beat you.”

“You might, but I doubt it. I taught my brother what he knew. However, if you should win...” sneered Matson pulling a paper from his pocket. “You can take this off my dead body and find your brother. Last time I checked, he was still alive. Barely."

The word, barely, clutched at Heath’s heart. Nick’s life was being laid in his hands.

“All right, Matson.” agreed Heath grimly, saying a silent prayer that he would be the better man.

Both hands reached for the knife each carried. Holding them, the combatants circled warily, crouching on the balls of their feet. Springing suddenly, Matson leapt towards Heath who stepped aside, the metallic blades clanging as they met.

Gauging the style of each other, their eyes concentrated, their focus narrowed to the enemy across. Testing the waters between each other, quick jabbing movements of their knives creating a delicate dance being played out between the two.

Heath, the smaller man, was at a disadvantage. His arm reach not as long as Matson’s. Blood flowed from a slice on his forearm and cheek, the last thrusts from the larger man finding their mark. Heath fought to keep his anger in check, knowing the way to win was through cool, calculated moves. Watching his opponent’s eyes widen slightly, Heath saw the rush before it started.

Grabbing onto Matson’s outstretched arm, he flew him up and over to land hard on the ground behind him. Turning quickly, Heath met the big man coming up from the ground, his blade leaving a long deep cut across the broad chest before Matson jumped out of the way.

Blood flowed from the cut onto Matson’s shirt. By no means a fatal cut, however much deeper than the cuts Matson had inflected onto Heath. Caution gave way to anger and Matson rushed again. His thrusts with the knife blocked, but his left fist found the ribs of the blonde, taking Heath’s breath away.

Pushing Heath backwards from the size of him and his fury, the men fought like two lions would over a den of lionesses. Heath receiving blows from the left fist, striving to block the knife thrusts from Matson’s right hand. His efforts, mostly successful were driven by the paper in Matson’s shirt and the life he held in his hands.

Driving a fist into the solar plexus of Matson, the man’s face grayed from the blow and the knife that was plunged into his stomach. Holding onto Matson’s right wrist, Heath twisted the knife watching the light diminish from the stunned dark eyes staring down upon him.

Stepping back and letting Matson fall to the meadow grasses, Heath stood bent over at the waist gasping for air. Sweat mixed with blood on his face, his ribs tender and bruised, the cuts on his body stung. Taking the paper out of Matson’s shirt, Heath read the words, and climbed up on his horse.

Chapter 18

The entrance of the mine beckoned Heath as he tied up the horse. The thought that Nick may not be in that black hole gnawed at him on the frantic ride over.

Standing and staring at the entrance, he swallowed the lump of terror lodged in his throat from the realization of the upcoming trip into the darkness and slowly made his way inside. Letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer conditions, Heath squinted making out the shape of a man on the ground by the wall.

Rushing over, he grabbed Nick under the arms and pulled him out into the sunshine. A sheen of sweat matched the terrified face, his nauseous stomach revolted. His body shaking as the contents of his stomach left him from the rising terror and panic, he was trying to control.

Hearing a soft moan, Heath wiped the sweat from his face and knelt by Nick.

Gently pulling his shirt open, Heath was surprised at the cloth over the wound. Pulling Nick towards him and checking his back, Heath sat back on his heels and frowned at the lack of an exit wound. The heat radiating off Nick, a testament to the poisonous bullet that was still inside him. Untying Nick’s hands, Heath drug him over to the side of horse.

Tapping gently on the sweaty cheek, Heath spoke loudly, “Nick! Wake up! Come on!”

The buzzing in his ear persisted and Nick turned his head to get away from the sound. The tapping on his face irritating him and he tried to lift his hand to make it stop. The fire he was laying close to was burning him through his clothes, his hand made it’s way to his shirt to open it.

Grabbing onto the hand that was pulling at the shirt, Heath held onto it and called again, “Nick! Open your eyes!”

Watching the eyes move under the lids, Heath kept urging Nick back to consciousness. His calls finally earning him a small glimpse of the hazel orbs. “Nick, you gotta help me get you on the horse. OKAY?”

The faint words sounded like they were reaching his ears through the roaring of a waterfall. Nick nodded slightly and Heath tugged on him, taking most of Nick’s weight while Nick fought to make his weakening body obey when he was on his feet. Moaning loudly from the pain he was forced to endure.

“Sorry, Nick.” whispered Heath at the pain he was causing.

Leaning Nick with his belly against the horse, he clenched Nick’s left fist in the mane and pushed upwards. Pulling as much as he could, Nick struggled to help. The efforts of the men being paid off when Nick was on the horse’s back laying forward onto his neck.

Jumping up behind him, Heath pulled Nick to lean against him, his arms around him tight and started back to Strawberry. The taller man’s head laying on top of Heath’s shoulder.

The fever raging in Nick causing Heath to sweat from the temperature increase. Moans of pain and mumbles were the pieces of conversation Nick was sharing in his pain-filled world as they made their way back.

Hearing the horse, Rachel ran outside, her hand covering her gasp at the sight of the two bloody brothers astride the horse.

“Aunt Rachel, the bullet’s still in him. Put some bedding in the back of the wagon and I’ll slide him off the horse.” said Heath. “We gotta get him to Dr. Martin.”

Rushing back inside, Rachel grabbed the bedding and quickly arranged it in the back. Rachel held onto Nick as Heath pulled him from the side of the horse into the back of the wagon. Hitching up the horse, he jumped up on the seat waiting as his aunt settled in beside Nick, slapped the reins and started the wagon moving.

Chapter 19

A rush of adrenaline can keep a person running past their normal limits of endurance or until the adrenaline has expelled its energy level. An adrenaline rush was fueling Heath on the trip to Pine Crest.

Time stood still, no sounds other than the moans and words of reassurance from the back of the wagon, reached Heath’s ears. His mind blocked out everything his body was telling him.

The only thoughts in his mind were reaching the sanctity of the doctor’s office and how to tell the Barkley family, Nick could die because of his past.

The past of the man they’d known only a short time.

The past of the man who only sought peace within himself.

The past of the man who had lived in a more violent world than they realized.

The past of the man who had turned his back on them over a month ago with no intention of going back.

Now, one of the Barkley family could die.

His brother, Nicholas Jonathan Barkley, age twenty-eight. Brother, son and rancher.

The man whose temper and inner principles matched his own.

The man whose voice could be heard over a rushing locomotive.

The man who could outwork any of the men under his employment.

The man who insisted he wasn’t going to let his little brother turn and walk away out of his life.

The man who had shown up the previous weekends to spend time with his new brother, ignoring the reception he had received.

The man who had unknowingly worked his way into his little brother’s fragile heart.

This was his brother.

The man who lay with a bullet in his fever infected body courtesy of some part of his past. Seeing the buildings of Pine Crest on the horizon, Heath felt a sense of relief, sanctity was within their grasp.

Pulling up hard on the reins, Heath looped them around the brakes and jumped down, stumbling slightly. Rachel rushed into the office, returning with Dr. Martin. The two men carried Nick between them and lay him on a bed. Hope pushed Rachel and Heath out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Heath leaned against the wall and stared at the closed door. He felt strange, almost as if the connection to his brother had been severed with that simple ordinary movement.

Heath stood unresponsive to his aunt’s voice, his eyes firmly locked on the door.

The adrenaline left his body in a rush, taking away the masking capabilities, it had brought with it.

Looking at his aunt, unable to catch his breath, Heath’s vision wavered and he slid to the floor unaware of her screaming his name.

Chapter 20

“Heath!” called Dr. Martin tapping the pale face.

Moaning softly, Heath slowly moved his head to the side and then back, his awareness heightening with each small movement. The pain throughout, making itself known, along with other twinges of greetings.

“Come on, open your eyes!” ordered the physician as Rachel ran her hand through the blonde hair.

Mustering his strength, Heath forced his eyelids open and gazed upon the physician’s face. Understanding flew into the pale blue eyes and he tried to push himself up with his arm.

Prepared for the burst of energy from the young man, Dr. Martin grabbed his shoulders and pushed him firmly back onto the bed.

“Nick!” gasped Heath his arm holding his battered ribs.

“The bullet’s out, Heath.” said Rachel quickly, seeing relief on her nephew’s face. “Nick’s gonna be okay.”

“What happened?” puzzled Heath feeling the bindings on his ribs. Looking down, he pulled the sheet up further and demanded. “Where’s my clothes?”

“I had to cut them off, Heath.” explained Dr. Martin calmly. “You have two cracked ribs, numerous abrasions and twelve knife cuts. Several of them bled quite heavily and required stitches. I had to cut your clothes off since they were sticking to your wounds. You passed out from the blood loss.”

“Oh. Thanks doc.” said Heath quietly.

“You need to rest to get your strength back and replenish the blood you lost. You’re lucky one of those ribs didn’t fracture and puncture your lung, young man.” lectured Dr. Martin

Nodding automatically to the physician’s word, Heath questioned hesitantly, “Aunt Rachel, did you wire the Barkleys?”

“Yes and they wired back. They’ll be here tomorrow.” stated Rachel.

Looking at the physician, Heath sighed, “I wanna see Nick.”

“Nick has a fever and in unconscious. He..”

“I thought you said he was okay!” shouted Heath angrily pushing himself up to a sitting position, his arm pressed against his side.

“He’ll be fine, Heath.” assured Dr. Martin and Rachel.

“Either give me some clothes or I’ll use this sheet.” growled Heath swinging his legs to the side of the bed.

Shaking her head, Rachel handed him a bag and chuckled, “I told you he wouldn’t stay in bed.”

Smiling, Dr. Martin nodded as he left the room with Rachel. The door closed and Heath pulled the sheet away. Opening the bag, he dressed carefully and opened the door. His face sporting a new sheen of sweat by the time he finished. Hope Martin smiled and led him to the room where Nick was.

Heath walked over to the bed, his eyes taking in the large bandage, moving up the torso and stopping at the pale complexion. Holding his hand to Nick’s forehead, he frowned at the fever. “He’s awful hot, Miss Martin.”

“Yes, he is Mr. Thomson. We’re using cool cloths to bring his fever down.”

Nodding his understanding, Heath took the cloth she handed him and dunked it in the water filled basin. Wringing it out, he placed it on Nick’s forehead, making another wet, he wiped his brother’s face.

“Miss Martin, can you leave us alone for a while?” asked Heath quietly.

“For a few minutes only. Call me if you need anything.” said Hope and then adding, softly. “Mr. Thomson, remember you are not in top condition either.”

Flashing her a lop-sided grin, Heath nodded and turned his attention back to the man in his care. Repeating the routine of wetting, placing and wiping. His soft voice speaking to the man in the bed.

“Sorry bout this Nick. I didn’t know Matson’s brother was lookin’ for me. If I’d known, I’d have found him first. I killed his brother in a knife fight at Spanish Camp. He was a gambler and a cheat.”

Pausing, Heath shook his head.

“Just so you know, I was a deputy when that happened. Don’t want ya to think I go around killing people. I’ve been a deputy couple times. Here and there. It’s dangerous work and you don’t get paid enough. I was good at it, though.”

Waving his hand to the side, Heath smirked, “Matson’s brother thought he was better than everyone too. Boy Howdy, was he wrong! Course if he’d won, you and I wouldn’t have cared at that point.”

“I must like you having you around a little bit. Probably cause you’re too hard headed to go away like I told ya to. I swore to never go in a mine again. God, how I hate those places! Makes me sweat and wanna puke just thinking about ‘em.”

Shivering, Heath sighed deeply, turning to get the cloth wet.

“Your family should be here tomorrow. Aunt Rachel wired them.”

Pulling a chair over, Heath lowered himself into it. Feeling weak from his blood loss and paining ribs, he leaned his elbow on the chair and rested his head in his hand.

“Sorry, Nick I gotta rest a minute.”

The comforting humming in his ears ceased. Opening his eyes, Nick stared at the face of the man in the chair, taking in the pale complexion, the bandages on his face and back of one hand. Moving slightly in the bed, he was startled when Heath jumped up and looked around in confusion.

“Okay…Heath?” whispered Nick, his voice weak and raspy coming out from his scarlet flushed face.

Grimacing from the pain caused by his sudden jump, Heath nodded. Pouring a glass of water, he lifted Nick’s head giving the parched man a drink.

“I’m fine.” gruffed Heath softly. “You’re the one in bed.”

“You...need…bed...too.”

Wiping Nick’s face of the sweat, Heath smirked, “I’m tougher.”

“Listen...older...brother.” gasped Nick.

Heath sighed, “We’ll talk later, Nick. I’m gonna get Dr. Martin.”

Nick held onto his hand and weakly squeezed it.

“Brothers?”

“Nick, I, we’ll talk later.” stammered Heath concerned by the darkened face contorted in pain, the precious strength Nick was losing from the exertion of talking, wanting to delay the conversation until Nick would able to fully understand what Heath was saying.

“No…Heath…now…brothers?” groaned Nick, the pain making his voice weak, stealing it of its natural loudness.

Looking into the questioning, pained hazel eyes, Heath took a deep breath and let it out slowly, unable to keep his feelings bottled inside.

“Yes. Brothers.”

Happiness surged through Nick’s weakened body and he closed his eyes grateful for the two words he had been waiting to hear.

Chapter 21

Rachel Caulfield met the Barkley family at the train station late the next morning. Leading them to the office of Dr. Martin, she explained the condition of Nick and the events which occurred.

Entering the office, Dr. Martin lead them to the room where Nick lay sleeping. His fever reduced by several degrees overnight, his deep sleep now one of healing. Jarrod and Audra stayed in Nick’s room while Victoria motioned Rachel into the hallway.

“Miss Caulfield, is Heath all right?” asked Victoria concerned when she didn’t see him.

Smiling, Rachel nodded, “Yes, Mrs. Barkley. Dr. Martin made him take some laudanum an hour ago. He wouldn’t leave Nick’s side until the fever had gone down and he’s asleep in the other room. Dr. Martin believes he will sleep until tomorrow, Heath’s very exhausted.”

Sighing in relief, Victoria asked, “Can I see him?”

Rachel hesitated slightly. Looking into the gray eyes of Heath’s stepmother, reading the concern for her nephew there. Nodding, Rachel lead the way to another door and put her hand on the knob, stopping and looking at the older woman.

“Mrs. Barkley, Heath’s very special to me. I want you to know that I won’t stand in the way if he decides to go back to Stockton. I’d like to know should he decide not to return, you won’t hold it against him.” stated Rachel quietly.

“Whether Heath realizes it or not, Miss Caulfield, he has become very special to me, too. I will respect whatever decision he makes. But, I would like you to know I hope Heath will return to Stockton and be part of our family.” replied Victoria softly. “I know his brothers and sister are hoping he will.”

Rachel smiled, opened the door allowing Victoria to enter and closed the door after her.

Walking over to the bed, Victoria smiled as she gazed upon the handsome face, relaxed in sleep. Running her eyes over the bruises she could see, her fingers brushed through his hair. Leaning forward, she kissed his forehead gently and sat on the side of the bed.

“Thank you for keeping Nick alive, Heath. I’m sorry you had to go through so much to do it. Your brothers and sister miss you, Heath.” whispered Victoria picking up his hand and holding it in her own.

“I miss you, too. As much as I would a son born to me. I consider it an honor to have you in our family.”

Squeezing his hand, Victoria set it back on the bed and kissed his forehead again. “I’m going to check on your brother, but I’ll be back to help your aunt watch over you.”

Her skirts swishing as she walked to the door and opened it. Smiling at Rachel, she turned and headed back to Nick’s room.

Entering the room, Rachel sat in the chair by Heath’s bed, letting her thoughts roam while he was in the drug induced sleep.

Nephew, what will you do now?

Chapter 22

The next morning, grunting and opening his eyes, Heath nodded at the smiling face sitting in the chair beside the bed.

“Howdy, Jarrod.”

“Heath, how are you feeling?”

“A little worse for wear.” groaned Heath pushing himself to a sitting position. “How’s Nick?”

“Sleeping like a baby.” smiled Jarrod gratefully.

“That’s good.” replied Heath swinging his legs to the side of the bed. “I need some coffee.”

Nodding, Jarrod walked with Heath to the kitchen where Hope poured them coffee and handed Heath a sandwich.

“Thank you, Miss Martin.” smiled Heath.

“You need to keep your strength up and replenish your blood.” stated Hope. “Father said to remind you, no riding for three days, Mr. Thomson.”

Jarrod chuckled as the smile on Heath’s face disappeared and was replaced with a scowl at the doctor’s instructions. Taking a bite of the sandwich, Heath shook his head.

“Doctors!” smirked Heath enjoying his meal and coffee, feeling stronger than he had yesterday morning.

“Heath, Sheriff Moreland was looking for you.” stated Jarrod. “Do you want me to come with you when you see him?”

Puzzled, Heath looked at Jarrod, “Why would I need you to come with me?”

Shrugging, Jarrod smiled, “Legal representation.”

Sitting back in his chair, Heath stated quietly, ”I won’t need legal representation, but if you wanna tag along, fine with me. I wanna check on Nick first.”

Entering the room where Nick lay sleeping, Audra and Victoria rushed over to greet the injured cowboy. Blushing from the attention and soft kisses they showered on him, Heath shuffled his feet, staring at the floor listening to Jarrod’s soft chuckle.

“Heath, did you get my letter?” smiled Audra.

“Letter?” thought Heath for a few seconds and then nodded. “Yeah, but I didn’t have time to read it Audra, sorry. I, uh, Aunt Rachel must have it. I know it was in my pocket when I got Nick here. Now, I’m not sure where it is since they cut my clothes off. I’ll find it, course the sheriff might want the envelope for evidence. I’m not sure, but…”

Weak laughter flowed from the bed at the nonstop, nervous prattling coming from his little brother. “Heath.”

Breaking free from the women’s hold, Heath walked to the bed and grabbed the outstretched hand. “Nick.”

“You okay?” whispered Nick, hazel eyes noting the return of color to the tanned cheeks.

“I told ya’ yesterday morning I was fine. Ya’ know how doctors are always fussing.” stated Heath sitting on the side of the bed. “Just a couple hurt ribs and some knife cuts.”

“That all?” teased Nick softly.

Snorting, Heath complained, “I think it’d be enough from saving you, don’t ya’.”

“I’d do the same for you.” whispered Nick, eyelids drooping over the hazel eyes.

“You sound mighty sure of that.” replied Heath softly recalling the conversation from before. “Nice to be sure.”

Grinning at his brother, Nick let sleep claim him feeling the squeeze on his hand before he fell back into the cushioned world of darkness.

Nick’s breathing evened out and Heath watched as relaxation replaced pain on his features in the deep sleep. A small hand lightly squeezed his shoulder and he stood up from the bed.

Victoria put her hand on his arm, gray eyes searching the blue eyes for any sign of pain, “Are you sure you’re okay, Heath?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Barkley.” replied Heath quietly.

“Perhaps, you and Miss Caulfield will join us for dinner later, Heath.” suggested Victoria. Her words more of a suggestion than an invitation.

“Yes, ma’am.” whispered Heath grateful when Jarrod stated they had an appointment to keep with the sheriff.

Sheriff Jonas Moreland looked up from his desk as the two men entered the office. Standing, he smiled widely and held out his hand to the young man.

“Heath, good to see ya walking around.” boomed Jonas.

Grinning, Heath returned the firm handshake and clapped his old friend on the shoulder. Jarrod’s blue eyes twinkled watching the two men before him, understanding why Heath knew he wouldn’t need legal representation.

“Jonas, it’s good to be walking.” stated Heath with a wink. “This is my attorney, Jarrod Barkley.”

“Attorney?” inquired Jonas shaking Jarrod’s hand. “Did you do something illegal, Heath?”

“I did kill a man, Jonas. Jarrod thought maybe I’d need some legal representation.”

“Yeah, guess I can understand why’d he think that, being a lawyer and all.” admitted Jonas. “You ready to ride, Heath?”

“Yep.” grinned Heath.

“Where are you going, Heath?” asked Jarrod concern showing in his eyes. “You know what Dr. Martin said.”

Putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder, Heath looked into the blue eyes seriously, “Lawyer, I can’t answer on the grounds I might incriminate myself. I’ll be back sometime this evening.”

“This evening? Heath! What am I supposed to tell Miss Caulfield and Mother?” blurted Jarrod.

Heath nodded in understanding and suggested, “If I was you, I’d plead the fifth.”

Clapping Jarrod on the back, Heath and Jonas left him standing in the small office, wondering what had just happened and how it came to be he was left behind to face the wrath of two certain women.

Frowning, he wondered if the train to San Francisco had departed yet.

Chapter 23

Night had long since fallen by the time Heath and Jonas returned to Pine Crest. The ride back to town long and exhausting, encumbered by the increase in Heath’s pain, his inability to ride his mount above more than a walking pace. Dismounting carefully at the livery, Heath leaned against a post, his face pale and sweaty from the pounding of the horse.

Jonas unsaddled both horses and helped his friend onto his wobbly feet. “Your aunt’s gonna kill us, Heath. You being a relative and me a lawman ain’t gonna matter to her. We’re both dead if she catches us.”

Wincing in pain, Heath grinned, “I know, Jonas. But I needed the horses there today to finish the deal. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Think nothing of it. When I get too old and stove up to be a lawman, I’ll be a rocking chair warmer at your ranch.” chuckled Jonas putting the smiling Heath’s arm over his shoulders. “Maybe I can get you to the jail without anyone seeing and then fetch the doc.”

Helping Heath along, Jonas shook his head at the small moan that escaped from his friend. “Stubborn, mule-headed, independent...”

“Heath Thomson!”

Stopping in his tracks, Jonas silently groaned at the two women standing before him, hands on their hips. Both wearing expressions of outrage and worry.

“Miss Caulfield, what a lovely surprise!” stammered Jonas. “Nice night, ain’t it?”

“You two shouldn’t be out in the street at night alone. It’s dangerous.” sighed Heath.

Shaking her finger at him, Rachel glared at her nephew, “You’re the one who is in danger right now, young man. Honestly, I don’t know what you were thinking. And you, Jonas Moreland, don’t even get me started.”

“Sheriff, I do hope you were escorting our wayward cowboy to the doctor’s office.” stated Victoria firmly to the crimson faced peace keeper.

“I’m fine.” exclaimed Heath. “I can take care of myself, but you should know better than to go out unescorted!”

“Heath, the ladies were escorted by me.” chuckled Jarrod walking towards his little brother.

His eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Nice try, brother Heath.”

Chuckling, Heath’s breaths turned to stifled gasps from the radiating pain. Putting Heath’s other arm over his shoulder, Jarrod looked at the concerned women.

“I suggest we table this discussion until Dr. Martin has a chance to examine Heath.”

Dragging the weakening man between them, they entered the doctor’s office and were shooed out of the room, the admonishing words from the doctor not reaching their ears. Their eyes not seeing the strained, pale, pained face while the binding was undone, the binding redone and laudanum administered.

Saying a quick goodbye, Sheriff Moreland beat a hasty retreat back to his office to confer with his deputy and escape the twin glares of the women.

Chapter 24

Have you ever been in a hurricane?

The rain pelts your body, the drops of liquid stinging you unmercifully. The wind howling and gusting to incredible speeds, taking everything that isn’t lashed down. The force of the wind on your face, strong enough to push back on your cheeks, make your eyes water and keep your lungs from sucking in air.

Immovable objects can become movable from the force directed at them…and then…the calm of the hurricane’s eye.

The sense of tranquility, stillness and serenity. The calmness of the eye in direct contrast to the raging storm that had just been sweeping over the land.

So different, it is almost comical. Your nerves haggard from the beating of the storm are given a chance to rejuvenate during the passing of the eye.

Standing outside the closed door of Nick’s room in the doctor’s office, Victoria and Rachel would have been surprised their thoughts were in sync, likening the past week to a hurricane.

The shooting of Nick by Matson, Heath’s freedom battle with Matson, Nick’s fight against the fever were all parts of the beginning of the hurricane.

The recovering of both brothers and the subsequent bonding between them were held during the eye of the hurricane.

Now, in all its fury, came the back end of the storm. Both immovable objects, both standing straight against the fierce winds.

The bond between them like a string waving in the wind. Both of them held an end tightly in their fingers, working their way to the middle of the string where they would meet on common ground. Now, the middle seemed too far away and unreachable.

The start of the backlash of the storm caused by one simple phrase from Nick. One simple phrase caused the fury to swell like the ocean between the two men and the waves to reach great heights.

One simple phrase.

“When we get back to the ranch…”

“I don’t lie!” snarled Heath standing by the window. The anger clearly flashing out of the sky blue eyes directed into the angry filled hazel eyes.

Sitting in a chair, the color of red spread across his face, Nick snarled, “Then you don’t tell the truth! You said brothers! I know what brothers mean to me! What the hell does it mean to you?”

Clenching his fists tighter, Heath’s raised voice could be heard outside the closed door, “It means we’re brothers! We share the same father! I don’t have to live on the ranch to be your brother!”

“That’s where you belong. Running the ranch with me!” shouted Nick.

“I’m not running the ranch with you. Get that through your thick skull, Barkley!” snapped Heath.

Staring at the blond man who had come so important to him in a small amount of time, Nick felt fear rising up and overtaking the anger within him. He wouldn’t lose his little brother now after finally accepting him into his heart. He wouldn’t let him walk away again.

“Heath, why can’t you just try it again? It’ll be different this time, you’ll see.” pleaded Nick, his hazel eyes beseeching the blue eyes. “We can be partners. You love being a rancher as much as me. We can do it together, little brother.”

Taking a shaky breath, Heath shook his head, fighting the tone of Nick’s voice, stopping it from reaching into his soul. Heath backed slowly to the door, the tremor in his voice piercing Nick’s heart, his movements one of a caged animal.

“I can’t live back there. I’m sorry, but I just can’t, Nick.”

“Heath!” called Nick, pushing himself out of the chair when Heath bolted through the door and outside. “HEATH!”

The panic in Heath’s eyes as he backed to the door had been easy for Nick to read. Those damn eyes were so expressive.

Why is he so scared?

Why would the thought of the ranch cause him to panic?

Why would he walk away after they fought so hard to get to this point?

Why?

Chapter 25

Victoria spotted Heath sitting on the banks of the stream, his head in his hands. Walking over, she lowered herself beside him. Unconsciously, Heath stiffened when he realized who it was. A small hand gently rubbed a circular pattern on his back while he fought to control himself.

His heart bursting with anger, pain and grief. Emotions spiraling out of control, confusion settling in, second thoughts grabbing hold of his mind.

Her voice soft and soothing, reached into his ears when his breathing was under control.

“Heath, a while back your aunt and I had a talk. I told her I would respect your wishes if you decided not to return to Stockton. I can’t pretend to understand, because I don’t. I can’t say that your brothers and sister will ever understand.”

“Mrs. Barkley..”

Pulling his hands from his face, she caressed them gently and looked into the tear filled eyes.

“Heath, Nick’s anger will fade in time. He’s just hurt and is lashing out. I gather he had built a dream up around your declaration of being brothers. Once Nick takes someone in his heart, he finds it difficult to let them go.”

“But I’m not going anywhere. I’ll still be around.” protested Heath.

“I know, but he’s afraid he’ll never see you again. He fought you long and hard when you came to us, remember? This time when you walk away, well, it’s different. Last time, he didn’t care.”

Nodding, Heath turned his eyes away from her watching a frog jumping in the grass.

“Your ranch is a fine place, none better, it’s just that…” paused Heath, his thoughts on the nightmares which appeared more vivid when he was at the ranch. The scenes of his past, he, himself had difficulty living and functioning with, in an environment where he felt safe, let alone an environment where he felt out of control. The scenes which the nightmares heightened dramatically, seeming intent on taking away his sanity, a small piece at a time. How do you explain these things to another person? How do you explain these terrors to someone?

Seeing the distant look in Heath’s eyes, Victoria touched his cheek and drew him back to the present.

“You don’t have to explain your reasons to me or anyone else. I can understand you wanting your own ranch. Building something from the ground up with your own hands. It’s a wonderful experience that I was able to share with your Father, Heath.”

“Just remember, you have brothers and a sister that want to spend time with you and care very much for you. You have so much to give them and would receive so much in return. You’re a part of our family. Promise me you won’t shut them out of your life.”

“I promise, Mrs. Barkley. I will make every effort. I, uh, like them too.” admitted Heath blushing under his tan.

Standing, Victoria playfully pulled Heath to his feet and caressed his cheek. “Heath, remember you are part Barkley and with that comes a lot of things. Prestige, responsibility, money. It also means you have a streak of stubbornness over five miles wide. Your siblings have this same streak and I’ve a feeling you’ll be experiencing it, from all of them, in the near future.”

Groaning, Heath rolled his eyes, “Oh, lord.”

Laughing, Victoria entwined her arm into his. Walking back to the doctor’s office, she squeezed his arm and teased, “My people are also very stubborn, Heath.”

Chapter 26

True to the honor his word held, Heath conscientiously made the effort to keep in contact with his siblings through letters each week. The first trip Heath made to Stockton coordinated around his selling of horses in Modesto.

When Nick learned from Heath’s letter he would be in the area, he wired his little brother asking him to stop at the ranch for two days on his way back to Strawberry. Heath missed the presence of his big brother, found himself hesitantly agreeing and wondering if he was making a huge mistake.

When he returned to Strawberry, the dark circles were prominent under his eyes. He didn’t have to say anything, Rachel knew the nightmares had returned while he was there. Unknowingly his little sister, Audra, had been the catalyst.

Audra, in her zeal to make her brother welcome, held a dinner party to introduce him to several of her friends. The uncomfortable situation in the already stomach twisting surroundings caused Heath’s nervousness and stress level to reach a crisis peak by the end of the evening.

Nick had been furious when Mother had agreed to the dinner party. Nick did not want to share any of Heath’s time with outsiders. He wanted his little brother to spend time with the family only.

Sensing something was awry, Nick kept a close eye on his little brother throughout the evening. He moved his brother’s things into a different room with the explanation that since Heath was going to get up early, there was no need to wake anyone else. He should stay in the room next to Nick’s, which was on the other side of the house, away from everyone else.

The shouts from his brother’s room had woken Nick from a sound sleep and in the next breath, he was rushing into Heath’s room. Later, Heath was embarrassed to find Nick in his room coaxing him out of the state of terror he had been trapped in.

His formidable brother was shaken by the look on the face of his little brother as he cowered in a corner of his room. Taking the bull by the horns, Nick led him downstairs and out on an early morning ride. Riding to Lookout Peak, Heath uneasily gave into Nick’s concerned questions and pleadings.

On Lookout Peak, as the sun was rising and painting soft colors across the sky, Heath Thomson handed to Nick Barkley, a small token of trust.

Revealing to his older brother the nightmares which plagued him when he was in emotional stressful conditions or fever ridden.

Revealing to his older brother, the nightmares his mind conjured up nightly after he’d been asked to move into the mansion.

Revealing to his older brother, the nightmares were the main reason he was reluctant to return to Stockton and the Barkley ranch.

When Nick strived to find what happened in the past to create the nightmares, Heath would say no more. He simply shook his head, closed his eyes and let the rising sun wash over his face while his older brother squeezed his shoulder, offering what support he could.

Nick knew the cost of what Heath revealed to him. Heath would not want to be considered less of a man by his older brother or anyone else. Nick had no intentions of letting go or tainting the trust the younger man was giving to him.

A missing piece of the puzzle was found that day. The piece that explained the scared, panicked look on Heath’s face when thinking of living at the ranch.

The second time, he had returned to Strawberry from Stockton, his eyes were clear and sparkling. Nick, Jarrod and Gene had taken Heath on a fishing trip to the Barkley lodge. Heath had further cemented his relationship with his brothers, laughter readily flowing from him while he told his aunt of their adventures.

The third time, he returned to Strawberry, his eyes were clear and hopeful. He stayed in the room next to Nick’s, worked the ranch with Nick and his sleep was peaceful.

Nick, unknowing to Heath, had laid down the law with his siblings and Mother regarding his little brother’s visits. No surprises, no outsiders and no excuses.

Nick hadn’t elaborated why it was to be this way and would not, not even to his Mother. He simply stated they needed to allow Heath as much time as he needed to be comfortable within the family unit. Victoria sensing this may be the key to drawing Heath back, readily agreed to the terms of Heath’s visits.

Missing his chance on the original ranch he’d his eye on, Heath rode around the state looking at other ranches. The last three months Rachel’s face held a knowing smile when each ranch he looked at, for one reason or another, was flawed.

His desire for his own ranch dwindling as he straddled the fence and his relationship with his brothers firmly took hold in his heart. He had the money, but something was stopping him from taking that final step while he spent his time capturing and training horses.

Rachel shook her head watching Heath from the window. His path retraced every ten minutes from the small cabin out to the street. The anxiety pouring off him, the excitement keeping him from sleeping the night before.

Jarrod and Nick were coming to visit their little brother for the weekend.

Grabbing a pail, Rachel opened the door and called out, “Heath, could you please get me some blueberries from that patch we found yesterday?”

“Aunt Rachel, they’re gonna be here soon.” complained Heath walking back to the porch.

“It won’t take long, Heath. I thought you and your brothers would enjoy a fresh pie.” smiled his aunt. “I’ll send them up the path when they get here.”

Smiling slightly, Heath kissed her cheek softly. “I’ll be right back, Aunt Rachel.”

Heath headed quickly up the path, his footsteps sure on the uneven ground. Reaching the patch of blueberries, he filled the pail keeping an eye out for his older brothers.

Walking back to the cabin, Heath’s steps became drunkenly, back and forth on the path as the earth shook.

A scream left his throat when the ground opened up and he disappeared from view.

Jarrod and Nick tried to keep their balance as the earth shook beneath their feet and hold tightly onto the reins of their frightened mounts. Rachel had run out of the cabin at the first side of trembling, stumbling and twisting her ankle.

When the shaking stopped, the brothers tied off their horses and rushed over to the woman on the ground.

“Miss Caulfield, you okay?” asked Jarrod.

Holding onto her ankle, Rachel grimaced, “I think I twisted my ankle. Otherwise, I’m fine.”

“Where’s Heath?” inquired Nick looking around.

Indicating the path behind the cabin, Rachel replied, “He went to get me some blueberries. The patch is about a half mile up the path.”

Glancing at Jarrod, Nick grinned, “I’ll go make sure our little brother didn’t eat all the blueberries.”

Laughing, Jarrod helped Rachel sit in a chair that he had grabbed off the porch and elevated her foot. “I’ll check to make sure the cabin is sound. Stay here.”

Nick walked up the path calling for Heath. Seeing the collapse of the path ahead of him, dread grabbed his heart at the sight of the pail of spilled blueberries in the grass.

Crawling to the edge of the hole, he peered over the edge and pushing backwards, climbed to his feet and quickly ran down the path.

“JARROD!!! JARROD!!!”

Chapter 27

Peering over the edge, the sunlight filtered down into the blackness, Jarrod’s heart froze at the still hand laying in the edge of the light at the bottom of the hole. Squinting his eyes, he struggled to make out Heath in the shadows of the darkness.

“HEATH? HEATH?” called Jarrod, his deep voice echoing in the hole. Listening carefully, his heart beat could be heard in the stillness but no sound from his little brother.

Pushing away from the edge carefully, he watched Nick finish tying off the rope and walk over to the hole. Holding the rope in his black gloved hands, Nick stepped back to the edge, preparing to descend, his hands shaking from what he feared would be waiting in the ominous darkness.

“Jarrod, it looks about fifteen feet down. I’ll holler then you can send the lantern and other stuff down.”

The quiver in Nick’s voice keeping his tone from being monotone. Squeezing his shoulder, Jarrod nodded, “He’s gonna be okay Nick.”

Looking into the blue concerned eyes, Nick took a deep breath and lowered himself into the hole, holding firmly onto the rope. Bracing his feet against the dirt wall, he made his way to the bottom slowly. His boots crumbling pieces of the wall, causing dust to rise when they hit the bottom.

Reaching the bottom, he called out and watched the rope being pulled up. Glancing at the hand, he fought the desire to rush over and drag his little brother out of the darkness and into the light.

Jarrod’s shout brought his eyes upward, the lantern and saddle bags with the first aid items were being lowered. Hearing noises behind him, he turned and stared, the hand was gone!

“HEATH! HEATH!” called Nick walking to the edge of the light, pain flaring in his left shoulder. Falling backwards onto the ground, his cry of surprise and pain reached Jarrod’s ears.

“NICK? NICK? WHAT’S WRONG?” yelled Jarrod seeing Nick on the ground, holding his arm. Movement from the edge of the light caught Jarrod’s eye, confusion rolled in his mind, the panicked shout leaving his lips without his realizing.

“NICK, WATCH OUT!”

Looking up, Nick rolled over as the board met the ground where his body lay. Startled, he jumped to his feet and backed away from the board wielding man, holding his numbed arm.

“HEATH! WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” screamed Nick. His hazel eyes locking upon the terror filled blue eyes in the bloody face of his little brother. His insides wilting from the familiar look of terror, the eyes indicating his brother was locked somewhere else in time.

Nick watched his brother advance and stumbled in the long forgotten mine tunnel, fighting to keep his path out of reach of the board. Calling their brother’s name, Nick and Jarrod’s voices couldn’t penetrate the hold the terror had on their brother.

Heath’s face was dripping blood, his right leg limping, his breaths coming in gasps out of his paling face. No words, just gasps and a steady progression towards Nick.

“Nick, you gotta take him down!” called Jarrod.

Shocked, Nick shook his head, “Jarrod, I can’t do that! He doesn’t know what he’s doing!”

His eyes leaving Heath’s for a second, he dived away as the board moved the air around his head. Survival instinct took over, Nick kicked out with his leg pushing Heath back into the darkness and a scream of horror split the air.

Continued…