Spirits

by Catlee

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.

“Heath watcha looking at?” asked Nick as he rode up behind his brother.

“Tracks, Indian ponies, about a dozen of them.”

“Indians on Barkley land? You must be joking.”

“Ain’t no joke Nick, I know Indian pony tracks when I see em.”

Nick looked around the woods they were traveling through uneasily. He had no intentions of getting scalped today or any day for that matter.

“Mount up Heath and let’s get outta here.”

Nick didn’t see or hear anything until he felt an excruciating pain in his right leg that threatened to topple him from his saddle. Looking down he saw the shaft of an arrow sticking out of his thigh its tip buried deep in the muscle.

“We’ve got company boy,” he roared setting spurs to his beloved horse. “Get outta here now.”

As Nick charged past him Heath leapt into the saddle and kicked his own horse into motion lying flat along its neck. Behind him he heard the sound of rapidly closing hooves and the twang of arrows as they harmlessly flew around him.

“Where a we headed Nick?” he called out noting his brother’s unsteady seat.

“Line shack about two miles up the track. We need to get under cover.”

Heath couldn’t hear Nick’s words through the fog in his head. He only felt the pain as the arrow bit deep into left shoulder. Gasping in pain he made a frantic grab for the reins with his right hand as his left arm fell limply at his side. Trusting Charger to follow his pal Coco he closed his eyes and held on.

Thankfully the two stallions were in better condition than the Indian ponies and they started putting a bit of distance between themselves and their pursuers. The track they were following was also helping. It was narrow and windy which meant that the following band of Indians was strung out in a ragged line.

“Line shacks just ahead Heath,” Nick called over his shoulder slowing slightly. His leg was throbbing badly.

Heath opened his eyes as he felt his horses gait slow.

“Take the horses in with us. We’re gonna need them if we want ta get outta here alive,” he shouted over the drumming hooves fighting to stay upright in the saddle.

Nick half jumped half fell from the saddle as he reached the shack door and flung it open dragging a protesting Coco behind him. Using the door to keep from falling he turned to watch his brother racing towards him. His eyes narrowed in concern as he saw Heath swaying slightly in his saddle.

Even laying as low as Heath could possible get over Charger’s neck the top of shaft still knocked against edge of the doorframe making him cry out in pain. Charger came to sliding halt inside the small shack knocking over the table and chair in the process. Through blurry eyes Heath saw Nick limping towards him.

“Nick, shut the damn door,” he ground out just as the Indians appeared in the small clearing and took aim with their bows.

Nick slammed the door shut and dropped the bolt just as the first arrows thudded into the wood. Leaping forward as best he could on one leg he just managed to reach Chargers side as Heath slipped from the saddle.

“I’ve got ya Heath, take it easy.”

“Boy Nick, do I have ta tell ya everything? Go see what the damn Indians are doing will ya?”

Nick lowered his disgruntled brother to the floor, leaving him lying on his right side and limped over to the window.

“They’ve stopped firing.”

“I know that Nick, what else are they doin? You ain’t fought Indians before have ya Nick?” Heath was struggling to keep focused now but for both their sakes he knew he must.

“It looks like they’re making camp.”

“Good, means we’ve got a few hours, maybe all night.”

“Before what?”

“Before we die. They’ll set up camp, light a big fire, do some dances and then ask their medicine man if the spirits will smile on them tomorrow. Depending on what the spirits say they’ll either leave us alone or come storming in here looking for scalps.” The effort to speak was getting more difficult and Heath closed his eyes.

“Why don’t they just rush us now? Not like we’re in any shape to fight back.”

“They don’t know that Nick. Besides they didn’t kill us right off and we’ve got some cover now. Probably think we’ve got some powerful medicine of our own. No, they’ll wait for an answer from the spirits before doin anything.”

Taking one more look out the window to assure himself that they were indeed making camp Nick hobbled back to his brother, grabbing his canteen from his saddle in passing and gingerly lowered himself to the floor. Removing Heath’s knife from its sheath he cut through his shirt exposing his left shoulder. Blood was running freely from around the shaft of the arrow and the head was hidden from sight.

“Heath I need to get ya on the bed. Think you can make it that far?”

Heath opened his eyes blinking several times in an effort to make them focus on his brother’s face that he knew was floating somewhere above him. Not trusting himself to speak just yet he nodded.

Nick pulled his brother into a sitting position gritting his teeth at the pain the movement caused in his rapidly stiffening leg as Heath groaned. Forcing himself to his feet again and bending down Nick lifted his brother’s right arm over his shoulder and half pulled half dragged the unresponsive blond towards the single bed in the shack.

“Boy are you a dead weight or what?”

“Ain’t dead yet Nick,” came the slurred reply.

“Glad to hear it.”

“How’s the leg Nick?”

“Leg’s fine Heath, don’t worry.”

“Funny, thought that was my line!”

Heath closed his eyes as the room started spinning around him. He knew he was quickly losing the battle to stay conscious. Nick fussing beside him forced him to open his blood shot eyes again.

“Nick watcha doing now?”

“Pulling this damn arrow outta my leg.”

Heath tried to sit up and yell a warning at the same time. All he managed to do was speak in a strangled whisper.

“Don’t Nick, you’ll start bleeding like a stuck pig. Saw a man do that once. Bled to death before help arrived.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Now ya tell me. Too late its out and I ain’t bleeding to death,” he retorted weakly. The pain from the arrow’s removal almost causing him to pass out.

“Better wrap it good Nick. Wake me when the shootin starts.” This time the blond slipped into the beckoning darkness.

Nick watched his brother sleeping. While he was willing to pull the arrow from his leg he wasn’t willing to try removing the one in his brother’s shoulder. While Heath slept Nick gently cleaned away as much of the blood from the wound and then packed around the shaft with strips of clean cloth from his saddlebag, hoping to steam some of the blood still oozing from the wound. Struggling to his feet Nick limped over to the two frightened horses that were taking comfort in each other’s company and offered both a drink from his hat.

“Sorry boy’s but I’d better leave you both saddled incase we need to get away from here fast come morning.”

Giving each a pat on the neck he hobbled back to the bed to check his brother. Frowning at the slightly elevated temperature he lowered himself into the chair and wiped down Heath’s face and chest.

“Don’t you go getting a fever boy, do ya hear me?” he pleaded quietly patting the injured arm gently.

Lifting his injured leg up onto the edge of the bed and knowing the horses would alert him to any movement from outside he closed his eyes to rest for a few minutes.

Both brothers jerked awake at the sound of shooting coming from outside and the nervous milling of the horses inside the shake.

“Thought I told ya to wake me when the shootin started Nick, and here I find ya sleeping. Great guard you make!”

“Stay put boy.”

Nick drew his gun and hobbled to one of the front windows and carefully looked out. What he saw brought a smile to his face. “It’s Jarrod, Duke, some of the hands and the army, Heath.” Expecting to see his brother still lying on the bed he was shocked to find him peering out the other window, swaying unsteadily, face as white as a ghost. He watched horrified as his brother’s legs buckled under him and he started to fall forwards.

“Jarrod” Nick roared as he leapt forward to catch his falling brother.

Outside the shack Jarrod heard his brother’s bellow and dashed for door only to find it bolted from the inside.

“Nick, Heath open the door,” he yelled pounding desperately on its unyielding wood.

Nick lowered Heath to floor then scrambled over to the door lifting the drop bolt, only just moving out of the way as the door flew open.

‘Jarrod is their a doctor out there? We need one now.”

Jarrod needed only seconds to register what his eyes were seeing and what his nose was smelling. Heath was lying on his side an arrow shaft protruding from his back and Nick was sitting beside him trying to stop the fresh blood oozing from his own leg wound. While there two horses pawed at the dirt floor looking for all world as though they were trying to dig their way to China. Turning he yelled to the men outside for the doctor and then hurried to his brother’s sides.

Duke followed wrinkling his nose at the smell.

“Duke get those horses out of here and have somebody clean up the mess,” ordered Jarrod worriedly watching his two brothers.

Duke called for several of the hands to look after the horses and then helped Jarrod lift Heath back onto the bed just as the army doctor entered. With the doctor tending to Heath, Jarrod and Duke returned to Nick’s side.

“Let me see Nick,” Jarrod demanded pulling Nick’s hands away from the wound in his leg.

“How’s Heath?”

“Doc’s with him now.”

“Good.”

Jarrod watched Duke catch his brother as he slid sideways to the floor.

“Ow, dammit,” growled Nick as he tried unsuccessfully to pull himself into a sitting position.

He felt a pair of strong hands lifting him from behind and then he heard his brother’s voice.

“Easy Nick, Doc say’s you’ve got to stay off that leg for a few day’s. He was also curious to know which of you two was fool enough to pull the arrowhead out. Said you were lucky not to bleed to death.”

“That fool as you so kindly put it Jarrod, would be me, afore the boy over there told me not ta do it,” Nick growled back, turning worried eyes to his brother before gazing back to the bed and Duke who was sitting with Heath.

“How is he Jarrod?”

“He’ll be fine Nick, Doc said the head tore the muscle but there’s no permanent damage. He should be fighting fit in a few weeks. He was just glad YOU didn’t try to pull it out as well.”

Nick chose to ignore the pointed you.

“Just what were you and the army doing out here Jarrod and who the hell were those damn Indians anyway?”

“The army arrived a couple of hours after the two of you rode out, to let us know some young bucks had left the reservation and were making trouble. They’d been trailing them for a couple of days. We left the bulk of the crew back at the ranch and the rest of us came with the army seeing as you and them were all headed in the same direction. Thought you could use a bit of brotherly help.”

“Well I’m mighty glad ta see ya big brother.”

“Ah Nick, just whose idea was it to bring the horses in here?” asked Duke wrinkling his nose at the smell that still permeated through the shack.

“That was his idea,” retorted Nick pointing a finger at his sleeping brother. “I ain’t takin the blame for that one.” Then Nick continued in a more subdued voice, “you know if he hadn’t ridden Charger through the door he’d probably be dead now,” he finished quietly.

Jarrod patted Nick’s arm. “Get some rest brother Nick, we’ll head back to the ranch as soon as the wagon arrives in the morning. The army has already moved out with their captives.”

Nick nodded and closed his eyes. Ranch, morning, alive. His little brother was right. They did possess powerful medicine of their own as the spirits had smiled on the two Barkley brothers this night.

THE END