Phenomenon

by Christy

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

Part 1

 

Heath worked the fence line alone.  It was his way to deal with the isolation he felt.  Sometimes he’d take a breather from mending the posts.  Looking up at the hot sun, he’d brush the sweat off his brow.  Opening his canteen, he’d take a swig of water so he would be refreshed and return to work.  The blond would mumble sometimes, words only he could hear, words that may have given him some inspiration to carry on, not that he’d ever needed them before.  Towards the end of the day, as the sun started to dip lower in the sky and it got cooler, he pulled his gear together and took it to the nearest line shack, about a mile away.  Leaving his shirt in his satchel, he mounted Charger to begin the ride home.  With his bare chest, and well muscled body, the blond cowboy felt more free, a little happier than he had been over the last year.  A mile from home, he took a turn off the beaten path, ambling with Charger towards the small cemetery under the tree where his father had been buried almost ten years before. 

 

“Be just a minute, Charger.  Iffn we don’t get home soon, Mother will send out the light brigade,” Heath whispered into Charger’s ear.  As if understanding his master, the red colored stallion whinnied, nodding his head up and down.  Heath patted the slender neck.  Walking over to the grave, he knelt down.  For a minute he paid respects to his father until his gaze went to the second stone so recently placed there that the wound remained as raw as the day it had been incurred.  His calloused fingers touched the words as they had almost every day in the past eight months while his heart bled anew. 

 

“Nicholas Jonathon Barkley

  1846 – 1879

  Beloved Son, Brother and Friend

  His voice will be missed.

 

Heath had to chuckle at the last line.  Even in their grief over Nick’s passing, they knew he would appreciate that line.  His loud bellow was part of Nick, announcing the big dark haired cowboy wherever he went, but especially to the mother who adored him and the brothers and sister who teased him unmercifully about going deaf if he didn’t bring his tone down several notches.    Talking to his brother brought Heath’s broken heart peace sometimes.  Other times he could swear he had heard Nick calling to him.  In despair, he would figure he was just imagining what he wished, that Nick would appear behind him and slap him on the shoulder again.

 

“Ya can’t get rid of me that easy, Brother,” Nick would holler.  “No fire is mean enough to take out a Barkley.”  Tears fell down Heath’s rugged face.  A fire had taken his beloved brother in San Francisco, almost eight months ago now.  Nick had died saving two children.  He had gone back in to make sure everyone was out safe.  He never came out of the burning building.  Heath had wanted to go in to get the older brother he loved, but his brother, Jarrod wouldn’t let him.  No matter how he tried, Heath couldn’t get the image of the building caving in with Nick still inside, couldn’t reconcile the fact that his best friend was truly gone.  Heath wiped away his tears. 

 

“Hey, Nick,” he said.  “Just thought I’d come on by.  It’s a fine day you know, kinda hot and all, but not bad.  Got most of the fencing done up on the North Pasture.  Don’t figure how those fences break down all the time.  Seems like me or one of the hands spends all our days fixing them fences.  The round up is done, but I reckon ya know that.  Told ya yesterday.”  Heath touched the flowers his little sister had planted on Nick’s grave.  She grieved in her own way, honoring Nick and showing him her love the only way she knew how. Heath got up to leave.

 

“Reckon I ought ta go.  Mother gets a little jumpy if we’re not home when we plan ta be.  Can’t say as I blame her.  Jarrod is home from San Francisco.  He said something about a posthumous medal the mayor wants ta give ya.  Audra about cried when Jarrod started telling us.  I know just what she was thinking.  Family doesn’t want a medal, Nick.  You know what we’d rather have.  Nothing is the same without ya, Nick.  Sometimes I just can’t handle it.  Then I figure we’d get into one helluva fight iffn I just gave up.  Ya changed my life, Brother, and I won’t never forget it.”  Tears falling again, Heath walked over to Charger.  Taking strength by leaning on the slender neck of his friend, he heard the split second report of a rifle firing.  Before he could move, a bullet slammed into his lower back throwing him against Charger.  Frightened, the horse backed off and ran away.  Heath collapsed to the ground in agony, his back on fire.  Footsteps alerted him to the intruder who wasn’t finished with the blond yet.  Keeping his blue eyes closed, Heath waited as silently as he could despite the torment of his injury.

 

“Damn horse,” a man muttered.  “Had to run off.  Bet there was some money in them saddle bags.”  Heath could have told the thief different.  He didn’t have a penny on him.  Ya didn’t need money to fix fences.  Moving just a little, Heath took his knife out of his front pocket.  Holding it under his stomach he positioned it to be ready for use.  He could figure what the thief would do once he found Heath’s back pockets empty.  The blond wasn’t disappointed.  The man shoved him over.  Heath didn’t react to the fact his legs didn’t move until the man pushed them.  Instead he held up the knife aiming it at the man’s heart.  Shock came across the assailant’s face as the tables were turned on him.  He fell first to his knees, then to the ground in slow motion.  Heath watched the man die, and then dropped his weapon.  He tried to move his legs, tried to get up, but it was no use.  Nothing moved.  His mind was consumed with pain until a fog seemed to come over him.  He turned his head to the right, his hand reaching out towards the spirit of his lost brother. 

 

“Nick,” the young man begged. “Nick! Help me, Nick!! Help me!”  The fog grew harder to see through becoming a dark velvet blanket that surrounded Heath with warmth until he gave into his pain and let the darkness take him away.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

Monterey, California

 

“John your work is perfect,” Father Bernard told the young man who had just finished repairing a pew in the missionary church.  “It looks like it was never broken.”  The young man smiled in appreciation.  He ran his hand over the smooth texture of the wood.

 

“Reckon I always did like to work with wood, Father. Never had time for it before.”

 

“Well, if you do ranching as well as you work with wood, you’re probably a natural.”

 

“I miss ranching.  Miss my family too,” John admitted. 

 

“I imagine they miss you as well, my son.  Maybe it’s time you went home.”  The dark haired man shook his head. 

 

“Leave it alone, Father.  I spose I’ve made my choice.  Going back now would only be cruel and senseless.” 

 

“Why, my son?  They couldn’t have known the facts.  They would never have let you suffer alone if they had known.  You have told me that yourself.”  Troubled as he often had been in the last three months, John sat down in the pew he had just fixed.  He seemed to look down at his work worn hand, then back to the priest.

 

“Heath is the one who told me about this place, you know,” he confessed. “I asked Dr. Lowe to come here because I thought I could still do some good even now. You’ve been very patient.”

 

“You have been a gift to us, John.  You help with the children, repair anything we ask of you, and even groom the horses.  But tell me, who is this Heath?” Father Bernard sat down in a pew.  John sat in the one in front of him. 

 

“Heath is part of my past, Father.”

 

“I knew a man named Heath once.  He was a boy then, fifteen or sixteen.  He stayed with us for a year, recovering from wounds he received in the war.  He was a great deal like you, proud, determined, and not quite so loud.”  John laughed.

 

“No, I suppose not.”

 

“So you think they are one and the same?”

 

“I know they are, Father,” was all John would say.  He stood and worked to gather his tools with Father Bernard helping him.  He put his hand on the pews and walked towards the back of the church where he kept the tools.  His mind was totally on Heath when the dark haired man gave a strangled cry.  Falling to his knees, he grabbed at his back. Father Bernard rushed forward, kneeling in front of the anguished man.

 

“John! John, what is it?  What’s wrong?” he demanded.  John’s rugged face was taut with pain.  Sweat glistened on his brow. 

 

“Deep breaths, John.  Take deep breaths.”  John tried to do as the Father urged.  The gut wrenching pain was familiar to him.  It was as if someone had plugged a bullet into his back.  All he could see was a blond cowboy, calling out to him.  Dear God, this couldn’t be happening, John told himself.  As the pain abated, he stood slowly, using a pew to hold himself steady. 

 

“John?”

 

“I’m all right, Father.  I…it’s Heath. I have to get to him.  He needs me.  He’s been shot!”

 

“Heath? Do you know where he is?” Father Bernard asked. 

 

“He’s home, Father.  I have to go, tonight.  I don’t know how I’ll explain this to my family, but I have to go.”

 

“You’re in no condition to go by yourself, Son,” Father Bernard said.  Nick slammed his hand down on the pew in response, knowing the priest was right.  “I will go with you, if you like.”  Nick’s hazel eyes lifted towards the man in his priestly robes.

 

“You’ll go with me?  But you’re needed here.  No I can’t ask you to do that.” John refused.  “I’ll manage.”

 

“My son, I may be a lowly priest, but even I know, as loud and cantankerous as you are, you’ll offend the first person who tries to help you.  Let me go with you. Heath was once very important to the mission.  If he is close enough to you that you can feel his pain, then you must go to him.  But tell me, how do you know him?  If I recall he had only a mother.  He was a rather angry and lonely young man.  I have often wondered what became of him.”  John’s hazel eyes took on a distant appearance as they gazed into an emptiness that had been with him for eight months.  Father Bernard waited patiently. 

 

“Heath came to our family almost four years ago, Father.  You’re right.  He was angry.  In fact, we fought so often, you’d of thought we were going to kill each other.”  Father Bernard smiled.

 

“I can imagine the two of you fighting.  I don’t know which one of you is more stubborn.”

 

“Oh, my mother has said Heath gets that prize, Father,” John grinned.  “But he comes by it naturally.  You see, Heath and I share the same blood, the same heritage and the same father.  Heath is my brother and my best friend.” 

 

“Heath?” Father Bernard wondered in amazement. 

 

“Heath.  He is part of my soul, Father.  He needs me.  I have to go home.  I have to go home as soon as possible.”  Father Bernard put his hand on John’s shoulder.  John put his hand on the priest’s.

 

“We’ll leave on the morning train,” Father Bernard promised. “We must hurry if we are going to be ready.” 

 

“You are certain, Father?  I can manage on my own.”  Father Bernard shook his head.

 

“You are my friend, John.  I will go with you.  When you are home safe, I will come back.  It is simple.”  John agreed.  He made one more confession before he and Father Bernard went back to the mission.

 

“Father, you know most of my past.  I’ve told ya about it enough, but I never told ya my real name.  Reckon it’s about time I did.”

 

“You do not have to, John.”

 

“Yes, I do,” John said. “You’d be hard pressed to figure anything out unless I did.  My real name is Nick Barkley.” 

 

“Nick Barkley? But…” Father Bernard’s voice trailed off.  He patted Nick’s shoulder. “Well, Nick, I’m happy to know you.  Let’s get going back to the mission.  The sooner we get packed, the better.”  Nick took the Father’s arm and walked with him back to the mission house where they lived.  Nervous, anxious and excited, all at the same time, Nick put his hand on his back again.  The phenomenon that had given him this message, the message that Heath needed him was something the big hearted man did not understand.  What he did know was that he had to get home.  He had to help his brother, even if it brought more grief and sorrow to the family he loved.  He fervently hoped he was making the right decision.

 

 

 

Part 2

 

Jarrod Barkley paced the foyer while his blond haired sister sat on the stairway.  Hours had passed since Charger had come home without his master.  Jarrod and the hands had all gone out looking.  The lawyer went immediately to his brother’s grave, knowing that Heath went there almost every day after he finished his work.  Like all the family, Heath was having a devil of a time accepting Nick’s death.  When the oldest Barkley son found his youngest brother, lying on his back, his chest bare, and his hand outstretched towards Nick’s grave, he cried. 

 

“Heath! My God, Heath, what happened?” Jarrod asked before he could think.  He ignored the dead body lying near Heath.  Firing off three shots, he knew help would arrive quickly.  There wasn’t a mark on Heath to be seen, until Jarrod gently lifted the blond brother to check his back.  Red blood covered the tanned skin.

 

“Nick,” Heath moaned. “Help me.”  Jarrod’s stomach lurched.  He spoke soothingly to Heath, but was never sure if he heard him.  In a very short period of time, Heath was loaded onto a wagon and taken home.  One of the hands went to town for the doctor.  Jarrod held his brother’s head in his lap till they arrived home.  Everytime Heath wakened he called for Nick.  Jarrod didn’t discourage him.  As they pulled on to the road leading to the house, Heath opened his blue eyes, speaking lucidly.

 

“Pappy?” he asked.

 

“I’m here Brother Heath.  I’m here.”

 

“Thanks, Pappy.  It was getting kinda cold.”  Heath coughed, a bit of blood appearing on his lips.  Jarrod wanted to clutch his brother to him.  Instead he swiped some blond hair away from the forehead.

 

“You hang on, Heath.  Don’t you go getting any ideas.  You hear me, Brother Heath.  You fight!”  Heath gave Jarrod that beloved lop sided grin until he lost consciousness again.  Jarrod let the hands take him into the house and to his room.  Victoria and Audra came to the foyer as the men went upstairs.

 

“Jarrod? Heath?”  Victoria’s face was white.  Audra held her mother’s hand trying to give her courage.  When her son died, some of the light in Victoria Barkley died as well.  Jarrod put his hand on his mother’s shoulders, hoping and praying her spirit was up to the challenge that he knew lay ahead of them.

 

“Mother, Heath has been shot.  He got the man who shot him.  I can only think it was a bushwhacker.  Dave has gone for Dr. Merar.”

 

“How bad, Jarrod?” Audra asked.  Jarrod’s silent answer was enough.  Silas was standing nearby, having heard the commotion.

 

“Silas, get us some hot water, towels and bandages,” Audra ordered. “Mother?”  Victoria’s gaze was anywhere but in the present.  Audra and Jarrod exchanged glances.  Jarrod shook Victoria slightly.

 

“Mother! Heath needs you.  Mother!”  The iron spirit of Victoria Barkley returned in an instant.  She touched Jarrod’s cheek, nodding.

 

“Of course he does.  Audra, you come and help me with your brother.  Jarrod, we may need you too.  Silas, we’ll be waiting for the water and towels.”  The trio hurried upstairs to Heath’s room.  Together they cleaned him up and got him as comfortable as possible.  Thankfully, he was only slightly conscious, moaning when moved, but otherwise not calling for Nick.  Jarrod didn’t know what his mother would have done if Heath had continued calling for their lost brother.  When Dr. Merar came, Jarrod and Audra were ushered from the room.  Victoria refused to leave.  Dr. Merar did not argue with her.

 

Three hours later, an exhausted Victoria and Dr. Merar came down the stairs together.  Victoria asked Silas to go up and sit with Heath.  Dr. Merar joined the family in the living room.  Jarrod poured himself a much needed drink.  He offered one to Dr. Merar who took the brandy gratefully.

 

“Mother?” he asked as Victoria sat down on the settee with Audra.  She looked up, her face still pale, nodding.

 

“A brandy, Jarrod, please.  Pour Audra a sherry.”  Audra put her arm around her mother.  Victoria returned the gesture.  Jarrod had always been grateful for the bond between his mother and sister.  Sometimes they communicated without talking.  But then the entire family was close. They all lived for each other.

 

“Howard? What is the story? How is Heath?” Jarrod asked sitting down in a chair next to his mother and sister.  Dr. Merar sat across from the family sipping on his brandy.  He glanced at Victoria.  Her slight dignified nod gave the physician permission to speak.

 

“Well, Jarrod, Audra, I’ve explained Heath’s condition to your mother.  The bullet was lodged in the back, but close to the spinal cord.”  Audra gasped.  Victoria put her drink on the table and put her arm around her daughter whispering something to her.  Audra gathered her courage and waited.  Jarrod swallowed his own fear.

 

“Heath is strong.  He has that in his favor.  We got the bullet out, Victoria and I.  That was no small achievement.  I tested Heath’s reflexes before we did surgery.  He was paralyzed from the waist down.  I didn’t see any damage to the spinal cord.  It is possible he will recover completely or somewhere in between or this may be a permanent condition.”  The doctor let the words hang in the air.  No one spoke.  It seemed as if no one was even breathing.  Dr. Merar took a deep breath to continue.

 

“He was outside for a while. He’s always been prone to chest colds.  He’s been coughing, so we’ll have to watch for pneumonia. The bullet nicked the lung which explains the blood he coughed up. My concern is if there is more bleeding inside, I can’t stop it.  But this is Heath we’re talking about.  He’s been through worse and recovered nicely.  We’re just going to have to wait and see.  Now I have to get back to town.  Don’t move him any more than necessary and don’t leave him alone for any reason.” 

 

“We won’t, Howard,” Victoria assured him, standing up, every inch the indomitable woman she was.  Jarrod observed her actually fighting to maintain control.  It was too soon, too soon since Nick, Jarrod thought.  They couldn’t go through this again.  They couldn’t.  Victoria saw Dr. Merar out.  He promised he’d be back in the morning.  The family knew what to do for Heath.  They knew it was going to be a long night.  None of them would sleep.  Together the three of them stood in the foyer.

 

“Well, Mother.  How do you want to do this?” Jarrod asked in a gentle manner.  Victoria looked from her son to her daughter.

 

“Audra, if you and Jarrod can eat something, I wish you would.  Then you should both try and get some rest.”

 

“Mother, we can’t,” Audra objected. “What if…Heath calls for us?”  She didn’t say what she was really thinking.  Jarrod took his sister’s hand.

 

“We’ll get something to eat, Mother and bring some soup and bread up for you when we’re finished.  I think this is one night when we all need to be with Heath.  If something should happen…well we need to be with him.”  Wearily Victoria nodded.  She leaned against her strong son, weeping in dread.  Drying her tears, the Matriarch went upstairs.  Jarrod and Audra watched her.

 

“She’s so brave,” Audra admired.  Jarrod drew his sister into a hug.

 

“As brave as she has to be, Honey, just like you.” 

 

“I’m not,” Audra objected.  Tears formed in her pretty blue eyes. “I’m scared Jarrod.  I’m so scared.  I keep thinking of Nick.  Why, Jarrod?  Why is this happening?” 

 

“I don’t know Honey.  Maybe God knows something we don’t.” Jarrod’s answer was simplistic but it was the only one he could come up with.  He took his sister to the kitchen where Silas joined them to make some dinner and make sure they ate as their mother had instructed.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

Heath passed a very silent night.  He never moved.  Victoria watched his breathing, sometimes noticing that her own soft breaths echoed his.  Jarrod kept changing the water basin so that she could keep cool cloths on his forehead.  Audra laid down next to her brother, taking his hand in hers and holding it close until she fell asleep.  Her big brother placed a blanket over her, relieved she could sleep.  In the hours before dawn, Heath’s breathing grew labored.  Still he did not wake.

 

“Mother, his fever seems to be about the same,” Jarrod told his mother several hours after Audra fell asleep.  “Why don’t you go lay down?”

 

“No!” Victoria returned with a sharpness she hadn’t intended.  Jarrod sighed. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’m just worried about you.”  Victoria wiped Heath’s hot face, and chest.  She spoke while her eyes remained transfixed on her youngest son.

 

“I can’t leave him, Jarrod, not for a minute.  If I leave him I’ll lose him.”

 

“Mother…”

 

“I wasn’t with Nick.  He died alone.  He died without his mother to comfort him.  I can’t do that to Heath.”  Jarrod sat down behind his mother, planning to hug her.  She wiggled away.

 

“No, Jarrod. I can’t give in now.  I have to be strong for your brother, for you and Audra.  I won’t give up on another child, not ever.”

 

“Mother, you didn’t give up on Nick. You were here in Stockton.  Nick was in San Francisco.  There’s nothing you could have done.” 

 

“He was my son,” Victoria cried with a ragged edge.  “He was my son.”  Her voice was lost in the grief that still hounded her.  Jarrod hugged her anyway, holding her stiff body until she relaxed.  The dawn came and Heath still breathed.   But he didn’t wake and the fear in Victoria, Jarrod and Audra came to stay as Heath lay unconscious and his fever started to rise again.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

Nick had never been a man to sit still for long.  The train left Monterey at 7 in the morning.  The ten hour trip was enough to drive him insane.  He paced up and down the aisle of the train, gaining more than a few looks from the surprised passengers.  Like Father Bernard, Nick wore a priest’s clothing.  They had decided this would be the most effective disguise so that Nick wasn’t bombarded by friends and locals when he got off the train in Stockton.  He wasn’t up to questions.  All he wanted was to get to his little brother.  Time was wasting.  Nick knew every minute they delayed might mean they would be too late. 

 

“Stockton, next stop,” the conductor finally called out.  Nick made his way back to Father Bernard.  He tripped over someone’s foot.

 

“Hey, watch where yer going,” a male voice cried out.  Nick would normally have told the man to mind his own business.  Instead he muttered an apology, and continued on.  Father Bernard’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

 

“Good job holding the temper, Nick,” he complimented.  Nick grinned, though his hood almost effectively hid his face.

 

“Didn’t figure a priest should start a fight,” he chuckled.  “We’ll need to go to the livery and rent a buggy.  It’s about an hour to the ranch.”

 

“That’s just fine, Nick,” Father Bernard answered.  Together the men got off the train.  Father Bernard retrieved their luggage, each of them carrying a small case with their clothes and necessary items.  Priests weren’t a common sight in Stockton, except for Father Tom who ran the orphanage and the Catholic Church.  Nick could almost feel the stares.  He didn’t care, he told himself.  As long as no one recognized him, he didn’t care.  He held his case close while waiting for Father Bernard to rent the buggy.  When the owner of the livery came out, talking to Father Bernard, Nick turned away.  He was relieved when he could climb into the buggy.  His heart was pounding.  Time was of the essence.  He knew it. 

 

“Father, you couldn’t hurry it up a bit, could ya?” Nick asked as they left the outskirts of town.  The wind blew a little more around them, the air still warm from the hot day.  The sun was starting to set.  Nick was very nervous, but he was accustomed to holding his emotions inside. 

 

“Well, Nick, we can go fast, but if we don’t end up at your place in one piece, that might be a problem, don’t you think?”  Father Bernard never seemed to lose his sense of humor.  How did he do that, Nick wondered.

 

“I spose you’re right.  Eight months, Father, eight months of not seeing them.  My mother is going to take her wooden spoon to me but good.”  Father Bernard’s chuckle filled the air.

 

“Well maybe she can do more with you than I could,” he laughed.

 

“You? What did you do?” Nick barked. 

 

“Since the day you came to the mission, I’ve been trying to get you to go home, Nick.  It’s as clear as day that you missed your family.  Now you’re racing across the state because you think Heath is hurt.  Seems to me it shouldn’t have taken a message like that to bring you home.”  Nick groaned.

 

“You sound like my brother, Jarrod.”

 

“Smart man.”  The two continued on in silence.  Nick’s thoughts were completely on his mother and siblings.  When Father Bernard pulled the horses up in front of the house, Nick clenched his fists, took a deep breath and said a silent prayer.  Prayers he had learned over the last several months could bring more comfort and courage than he had thought imaginable.

 

“We’re here, Nick,” Father Bernard told him.  Nodding, Nick got out of the buggy.  He stood for a second, taking in the scents of his home, the horses, the trees, the sounds of men still working in the corral.  He was home.  Dear God, he was home at last. 

 

 

 

Part 3

 

It seemed like forever before Silas answered the door when Nick knocked on it.  Nick heard the door open, and the light aroma of flowers reminded him how his mother loved her garden. 

 

“Gentlemens, can I helps ya?” Silas asked.  Nick wondered what Silas thought of two frocked priests standing in the door way.  The black man’s voice was as cool as a cucumber, unfailingly polite.

 

“I’m Father Bernard.  My friend and I came to see Jarrod Barkley.  Is he home?” Father Bernard inquired.  This was the plan the two of them had come up with.  Nick didn’t want to upset the family any more than he had to…Approaching Jarrod would be easiest.

 

“Well I don’t know.  Mr. Barkley, he awful busy.”

 

“It’s urgent,” Nick huffed.  Maybe his voice gave him away.  Maybe his tone caught Silas’ attention.  Nick didn’t know, but his friend backed into the house.  Father Bernard went in with Nick behind him.

 

“Mr. Barkley, he in the study.  Would you like me to get him for you?” Nick shook his head.  Father Bernard spoke for him. 

 

“If you’ll lead the way, perhaps a private room would be more suitable.” 

 

“Yes, Sir,” Silas answered.  The black house servant who was more family than servant to the Barkley’s led Father Bernard and Nick to the study.  He opened the door letting them into the room.  Jarrod who was taking a breather from nursing Heath was having a drink and staring into the fireplace.  He turned around in surprise as Silas entered.

 

“Mr. Jarrod, these mens say theys come to see you.  I hopes it be okay I let them in?”

 

“Certainly, Silas.  Has Dr. Merar been down yet?”

 

“No, Sir.  He’s still up there with Mr. Heath and Miz Barkley, and Miss Audra.  Do you wants I should have him see you before he leaves?”

 

“Yes, Silas.  Thank-you,” Jarrod answered dismissing the man.  Nick’s feet tapped a little impatiently getting Jarrod’s attention.  Father Bernard stepped forward.  Nick didn’t move.  His legs were on fire to   run upstairs.  Heath was hurt.  He wanted to throw off the hood that hid his face and hug Jarrod.  Knowing his brother was close made his heart ache.  Why, why had he stayed away?

 

“Mr. Barkley, forgive our intrusion.  I’m Father Bernard.  I work at St. Catherine’s Mission in Monterey.  I have a matter of great delicacy to talk with you about.”  Jarrod shook the priest’s hand. Nick heard Jarrod’s sigh.  He almost chuckled waiting for the barrage of questions that was sure to come.

 

“I must admit, you pique my interest, Father. Have we met before?”

 

“We have not.”

 

“I see.  I’m afraid I’m out of guesses.  Would you care to enlighten me as to why you are here?  If not, my brother is very ill and I need to attend to him.”

 

“How ill is he?” Nick demanded in a short tone.  Jarrod looked from Father Bernard to the man who was completely covered from head to foot in a tan robe.  The voice was muffled.  Jarrod stared, not believing what he was hearing.  Shaking his head a little, the logical lawyer decided he must have only imagined that voice.

 

“Heath, my brother, was shot yesterday.  He has a high fever. I should be going back upstairs.  It’s very serious.  May I ask what your concern with Heath is?”

 

“Your brother’s injury is why we came” Father Bernard started to explain. 

 

“Now I am very curious,” Jarrod admitted, his tone sternly protective.  Nick’s patience was at an end.  He threw off his hood.

 

“We don’t have time for this,” he thundered. “Jarrod, please.”   Jarrod Barkley stumbled backward, staring at the tall black haired brother he thought he had lost.  Gripping a chair to hold himself up he was speechless.  Silence filled the room.  Neither brother knew what to say.  Wisely Father Bernard remained quiet.  In a few seconds, Jarrod had crossed back to Nick.  His hands cupped Nick’s face.

 

“Nick.  Oh, God, Brother Nick. I never…Nick!” Jarrod started to cry, hugging Nick close.  The dark haired rancher choked, trying to swallow his emotion, but it was hopeless. Tears threatened him.  He returned his brother’s embrace.

 

“I’m sorry, Jarrod. I’m so sorry,” he replied trying to reassure him. “Don’t cry or I will and I hate that.  I love you, Pappy.  I love you.”  Jarrod only cried harder at the words.  The brothers held tightly to each other, their devotion clear, their relief to be together again evident.  When Jarrod stepped back, Nick didn’t see his brother’s face, but he could imagine his gentler brother’s expression of joy.

 

“Why, Nick, why?” Jarrod asked, his emotion still choking him.  Nick didn’t reply.  “Nick?”

 

“Can’t you see, Jarrod? Can’t you see why I couldn’t come home?  I couldn’t hurt you any more than you had been.  Jarrod look!”  Stepping forward Jarrod took Nick’s hand in his.  He placed it over his heart as the truth of Nick’s plight stabbed him as sharp as any knife.  His search of Nick’s empty hazel eyes brought empathetic sorrow. 

 

“I see, Brother Nick, and you know I understand.  You know I do.  But there’s nothing, nothing that would ever make up for you not being here. Don’t you know how we grieved for you?  You should have come home.  You should have come home.”  The brothers hugged again, their reunion cut short as a knock came on the door again.  Nick was about to put his hood up.

 

“None of that,” Jarrod ordered.  “Stay here for a minute.  I’ll get Mother and Audra.”

 

“I have to see Heath, Jarrod,” Nick almost shouted.

 

“I know, Nick, I know.”  Jarrod patted his brother on the shoulder.  Nick grabbed Jarrod’s hand.

 

“I felt the pain when he got shot, Pappy.  I knew he needed me.  That’s what brought me home, Heath and Father Bernard.”  Jarrod shook his head.

 

“God moves in mysterious ways,” he intoned as he left the room, leaving the other two men behind.  Silas was at the door.  The servant told him his mother and Dr. Merar were in the foyer.  Jarrod asked Silas to get Audra for him, and then stay with Heath.  Joining Dr. Merar and his mother, he couldn’t help his heart sinking at the grim looks on both of their faces.  Victoria saw Jarrod and hurried to him, hugging him to her.

 

“He’s dying, Jarrod,” she wept.  “We have to do something.  We have to do it now!” Jarrod looked with alarm at Dr. Merar.  The old family physician shook his head.

 

“He’s not fighting, Jarrod.  He’s called for Nick a few times, but other than that, he still hasn’t come around. His breathing is worse and he’s coughing up more blood.  It was a miracle he survived last night.  I think it’s a matter of hours.  It’s as if he wants to die.”

 

“Maybe he does,” Jarrod answered simply. “He wants Nick.” 

 

“Oh, God,” Victoria sobbed.  Jarrod took her by the arms just as Audra came down the stairs.

 

“Mother, there is hope, I promise,” he reassured her.  “If he wants Nick, well, maybe wishes do come true.”  Victoria’s gray eyes snapped to attention as Audra stopped next to her mother.  Her angelic face was puzzled and anxious. 

 

“Jarrod, what did you want. I can’t leave Heath.” The young woman objected.

 

“Just for a few minutes, Honey.  Dr. Merar would you come with us or do you need to leave?”  Dr. Merar looked a little askance.  He smiled a little, his wonder getting the better of him.

 

“I can stay a while longer.  If it helps Heath, you’ve got my attention, Counselor.”

 

“It definitely will help Heath,” Jarrod informed them.  “This involves all of us.  Mother, Audra, do come with me.” Jarrod had thought of telling his mother and Audra that Nick was in the next room, but he couldn’t resist surprising them.  With his mother and sister on either arm and Dr. Merar following him, he went into the study where Victoria and Audra froze.

 

“Nick, we’re here,” Jarrod announced. Audra was the first to move, but Jarrod held her back.  He put his arm around her.  She buried her face in his chest, weeping in her shock.  Victoria stepped forward. 

 

“Mother? Audra,” Nick had to ask.  Victoria’s voice was barely above a whisper, but her son heard her speak his name with all the love he had craved in the past months.  He tried again not to cry, cursing his stupid emotions.  He would not cry, not in front of his mother. The tears came anyway only to be wiped away by a dainty handkerchief.  The fine hand touched his face in a soft caress.

 

“Nicholas,” Victoria said. “My baby. My son.  Dear God in heaven.”  His hands moved hesitantly until they grabbed the slender waist and lifted her into the air, swinging her around in a circle.  Laughter filled the room.

 

“Nicholas, put me down immediately,” Victoria chastised.  In a second, Nick had set her safely on the floor, kissing her forehead.  Her tired body rested against her middle son while he held her close. She stepped back. Nick could sense his mother’s emotions, hear her soft breathing, smell her scent and he knew she was looking directly at him.

 

“Nick,” Still Victoria couldn’t stop staring at the young man.   “Oh, Nick, where have you been?”  Before he could answer, the diminutive mother went on. “All the days and nights…Who took care of you? Why didn’t you come home.  I have so many questions, but all I can do is be happy you are home.  My son.”  She leaned up and kissed him again.  Nick leaned over and returned the kiss on her cheek.

 

“I’m sorry, Mother,” he apologized.  “Father Bernard here took me in.  He has a mission in Monterey.” Victoria’s tears continued to fall as her daughter threw herself at her brother and scolded him as well.  Nick wasn’t sure how much more he could take.  Fortunately Jarrod came to rescue him by pulling their sister back.

 

“Honey, give him a chance to breathe,” he teased.

 

“I’ve waited eight months to give him a hug, Jarrod,” Audra protested.  “You were right about Heath.  God does know things we don’t.”  Jarrod smiled.  Nick cocked his head in confusion.  Victoria’s mind returned to her dying son.  She took Nick’s hand.

 

“Nick…” she implored. “Heath needs you.  Howard says he’s given up.  Heath has gone to visit the grave…every day…he’s never gotten over…he loves you so much.”  Victoria was clearly finding it hard to express her youngest son’s grief over Nick’s apparent death.  The second son bit his lip, his stomach churning with guilt.  He couldn’t know, his mother was doing the same thing while her voice cracked with the intensity of her maternal concern, love and protectiveness.

 

“Take me to him, Mother,” Nick returned.  “Please.” Victoria took her son by the arm.  They walked past the stunned Dr. Merar.  Father Bernard followed.  Nick knew the house, but he was too anxious to try and find his own way upstairs.  Everything was so dark inside him these days, heck all these months, but his family, his family was giving him some of the light he needed and that light included his younger brother, his best friend.  If there was any way to save his brother, he would. He’d give his life for Heath’s.  He’d do anything.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

Upstairs, Silas was sitting with Heath.  The young man hadn’t awakened in the last twenty-four hours except for an occasional moan of pain and to call for Nick.  Placing a cool cloth on the hot forehead, the man  stood when the bedroom door opened.  Nick didn’t see the black man’s face register Nick’s presence, nor his comprehension of his affliction. 

 

“Mr. Nick?” he finally cried.

 

“Silas!” Nick cried.  “Sorry I didn’t greet ya downstairs.  Didn’t want to give myself away.  Thanks for taking care of the family while I was gone.” 

 

“Oh, Mr. Nick,” Silas replied.  He took Nick’s hand in his. “It’s a sight ta see you, Mr. Nick. It shorely is.  Welcome home, Mr. Nick.  Welcome home.”

 

“Thank-you, Silas.  It’s good to be home,” Nick returned.  Victoria helped Nick to sit on the bed. 

She turned to the group gathered behind her.

 

“Everyone out.  Nick and I will take care of Heath for now.  Jarrod, Audra, get something to eat and make sure Father Bernard and Howard get something too.  Silas, you can help them.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am, Miz Barkley,” Silas nodded.

 

“Mother!” Audra objected.  Again Jarrod played peacemaker.

 

“Come on, Little Sister.  You know when we’ve been banished.”

 

“But Heath…”

 

“I’ll call you, Sweetheart, I promise, if anything…I promise.”  Audra nodded.  The contrast between happiness at Nick’s being home, and anguish over Heath’s condition was taking a toll on all of them.  The door shut behind everyone.  Victoria pulled up a chair and sat down, giving Nick his own time with his ailing brother, the two sons whose hearts beat as one to the point where Heath was willing to give up his life to join his lost brother for eternity.  Nick fumbled till he found Heath’s hand.  It was so warm.  He could almost feel the heat radiating off the man.

 

“Hey there, Little Brother,” he started, stroking the hand that he couldn’t see.  How he cursed his helplessness until he focused his attention on the man who lay in front of him.  He knew Heath Barkley better than any man alive, inside and out.  He knew Heath’s soft side, his stubborn pride, his humor and compassion.  He had to reach him somehow.  He didn’t need to see to try.

 

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Heath.  I’m real sorry I didn’t come home sooner.  There’s no excuse for what I done, and you can punch me out if ya ever get out of this infernal bed.  Doc says ya aren’t fighting, Little Brother.  I don’t wanta hear that.  You’re a Barkley, Boy and Barkley’s always fight.  You got a ranch to run, Boy, and I’m here to run it with ya, iffn ya will give me a chance.  Course, I might need some help, but I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”  Heath moaned again.  Victoria’s voice reached Nick’s ear.  Her hand touched his knee.

 

“Nick, he’s trying to wake up.  I can see his eyes moving.  Keep on talking, Sweetheart.  Please.”

 

“Ya hear that, Heath?  I only been home an hour or so and Mother’s already telling me what to do.  For crying out loud, if you back out now, who’s going to help me handle her?  She’ll be after me with her wooden spoon just to make up for the fact you gave up.  Heath, please!” Nick tried.  Suddenly Nick had an idea.  He slapped Heath’s hand.

 

“HEATH BARKLEY, THIS IS A WORKING RANCH.  THERE’S NO ROOM FOR SLUG A BEDS.  TIME TO GET MOVING BOY!  TIMES A WASTING”  Heath’s blue eyes shot open.

 

“Boy howdy, Nick,” the blond said before he realized.  “Don’t hafta shout.”  Victoria would always remember Heath’s face as it dawned on him that he wasn’t dreaming and that he really was seeing his brother.  Heath stared in complete disbelief, his eyes going from Nick to his mother and back again.

 

“Nick?”

 

“In the flesh, Little Brother.  Wanta pinch me?”

 

Heath closed his eyes, coughing up a large amount of phlegm and not the dreaded blood.  Victoria raced to get a cloth and gave it to her son. Exhausted, the young man tried to relax on the pillows.  He was staring at Nick.  His gaze went to his mother who nodded at him, her wonder as apparent as his own. 

 

“Heath?” Nick asked. “You gonna be all right?”  The blond couldn’t speak.  Whether it was shock or pain, even he didn’t know.  The sapphire eyes were sprinkled with a happiness that Nick would have been so relieved to see.  Instead he was afraid, afraid his brother had slipped back into unconsciousness. 

 

“Heath! Answer me,” Nick demanded.

 

“Reckon so.”  Heath’s hand encircled Nick’s. Nick sighed.

 

“Don’t scare me like that,” he scolded.  Heath didn’t reply. 

 

“Nick, I think he’s sleeping,” Victoria told her son. “There’s a basin with cold water, and some cloths next to it by the bed.  Can you keep him cool if I go and tell the others?”

 

“Yes, Mother, I can.”

 

“Don’t go far,” She whispered giving him a kiss on the cheek.  “You and I need to have a talk.” 

 

“I love you too, Mother,” Nick replied trying to ease her frustration and anger towards him.  Nick Barkley was no fool.  Even the darkness that surrounded him couldn’t keep him from feeling his mother’s trembling hands or hearing the edge of hurt in her voice when she spoke.  He had fences to mend with her and the family.  He was ready, ready to fight for his place in the family again.  He was home and he had no intention of leaving again.

 

“And I love you Nicholas Jonathon Barkley.  That does not let you off the hook,” Victoria went on.  “I’ll be back in a little while with something for you to eat.”  Leaving her sons alone, Victoria walked downstairs to the dining room where her son and daughter were picking at sandwiches and coffee while Father Bernard and Dr. Merar ate with gratitude.  The nervous chatter ended when Victoria stepped into the room.

 

“He’s awake,” she told them.  Jarrod and Audra hugged each other.  “Nick yelled at him to get him to wake up.  He’s still got the fever, but I believe that Nick will help him turn the corner.  When Heath is better, I’m going to talk to those two about the sanctity of life.  I think they’re going to be the death of me.”

 

“Mother, if they haven’t done it yet, they probably won’t,” Jarrod smiled, his relief evident in his haggard face.  Victoria sank down in a chair. 

 

“Don’t count on it,” she answered as if she were a hundred years old.  Audra knelt in front of her mother.

 

“You’ve got that sparkle in your eye, Mother.  I missed it,” the girl observed.  Victoria kissed her daughter’s cheek.

 

“Thank you, Sweetheart.  You children are my life.  I can’t explain how I felt about the fire, and your brother.” The mother turned her attention to Father Bernard.

 

“Father, how can we thank-you for bringing my son home?”

 

“Wasn’t me,” Father Bernard demurred.  He pointed upward.  “It was Him.” 

 

“Amen,” everyone chorused.

 

“Father Bernard, I have a question,” Audra asked.

 

“Of course, Miss Barkley.”

 

“Nick’s blindness.  Is it…is it permanent?”

Father Bernard took the girl’s hands in his.

 

“Well, Miss Barkley, nothing is for certain.  I’m sure Nick never gives up hope he’ll see again.  Will you?”  Audra’s beautiful smile was angelic.

 

“No, I won’t.  Thank-you, Father.”

 

“You’re more than welcome.  I have to confess Nick has been a real asset to the mission in Monterey.  We’re going to miss him, but he belongs here.”

 

“Yes, he does,” Victoria stated.  “Father, how long can you stay?”

 

“Only a few days.  I wanted to make sure Nick got home safe.  He wanted to come home by himself.  Said he wouldn’t have a problem.  I begged to differ.  You must realize he has had a while to become adjusted to his condition.  While he was in the hospital, they taught him how to care for himself.  He has been doing our repairs at the mission.”

 

“Repairs?” Jarrod gulped.  “He puts me to shame. All I had to do when I was blind was shoot a man.” 

 

“Jarrod!” Victoria scolded while Audra giggled. 

 

“Sorry, Mother,” Jarrod answered gallantly. 

 

“Father, Audra can show you to the guest room.  I’m going to sit with Nick and Heath for awhile.”

 

“Thank-you, Mrs. Barkley.  I would like to see Heath before I leave.”

 

“Certainly,” Victoria acquiesced.  “You came all this way.”

 

“Well, apparently Heath inadvertently sent Nick to us at the mission.  When Heath was discharged from the army hospital after the war, one of his friends brought him to the mission.  He stayed with us for a year.  Apparently he told Nick and that’s how Nick came to us.”  Jarrod, Victoria and Audra all exchanged glances in amazement.  They all wondered where Nick would have ended up if Heath had never come to them.

 

“Unbelievable,” Jarrod muttered. Victoria shook her head. 

 

“All right.  We’re all tired. Jarrod, could you have Silas bring up some soup and toast for me and some sandwiches and coffee for Nick.  I’d like some tea.”

 

“Of course, Mother.”  Father Bernard and Dr. Merar were impressed by Victoria’s command of her family, and her children’s instant response.  The spirit between the trio was a connection that many families never felt.  It was impressive.

 

“With that, I will bid you all goodnight,” the lovely lady said.  The men stood nodding their own good nights while Audra sat down, and put her head on the table and wept until Jarrod came over to sit down and comfort her.   

 

Upstairs, Victoria went to the bathroom, then stood outside Heath’s bedroom door.  Her head was buzzing, her thoughts overwhelming.  Nick.  Her son, Nick was home.  The idea was difficult to grasp, but oh so joyful. The question as to why he hadn’t let them know he was alive nagged at her.  So did his blindness.  Was he as angry with his affliction as Jarrod had been when he was blind.  She didn’t think so.  Nick seemed adjusted, able to move fairly independently, just as Jarrod learned to.  She hoped they would help him adjust to being home and somehow working on the ranch again.  As for her youngest son, Victoria tried to still her heart.  Heath  wasn’t out of the woods yet.  They could still lose him.  She wondered in her fatigued mind if she was going to exchange one son for the other.  Quickly, Victoria drove that thought away.  Heath was going to fight.  He was going to recover completely.  This family was not going to give into the tragedies that could have destroyed them.  They would survive and they would flourish as they had in the past.  Resolute, Victoria Barkley walked into her son’s room and once again shut the door behind her

 

 

 

Part 4

 

Heath’s clasp on Nick hadn’t lessened in the last half hour, even as he slept.  Nick found and brushed back the blond hair with tender fingers.

 

“Little Brother, you scared me,” he intoned. “I guess I didn’t realize how much I missed you till I saw you.  Mother, she makes me cringe and feel loved at the same time.  I wish you were awake.  I really need to talk to you about all this.  I’m not sure how I’ll be able to help on the ranch.  Guess that kept me coming home too.  I’m not the same man, Heath.”

 

“Why aren’t you the same man, Nicholas?” Victoria’s voice asked.  Nick heard the rustling of the fine skirts as his mother stood beside him.  He tried to turn to face her, but Heath’s hand held firm.

 

“Heath’s deluded,” the young man tried to joke. “Won’t let me go.” 

 

“Nicholas,” Victoria chided.  She sounded angry and hurt.  Nick knew at once, his welcome home had been all too easy. Nick thought of those days when he felt so all alone, but was unwilling to notify his family that he had survived the fire.  He felt defensive at his mother’s tone. How could he explain how he felt.

 

“Mother, I’ve changed,” he started.  “The fire changed me.”

 

“Because you are blind?” Victoria gasped.  “For heavens sake, Nicholas, that is ridiculous.  You promised when you came back after the episode with the wolf that you would never keep a secret like this again.  But you did.  You made us think you had perished in that fire.”  Victoria Barkley stood firm, her heart beating hard inside, her grief and anger of the past several months being released.  Nick had never heard his mother so incensed.

 

“I didn’t make you think it.  You already did by the time I knew what was going on.”

 

“Do you decided to let us suffer?  Why? How could you?”

 

“I’d like to know the answer to that one too, Brother Nick,” Jarrod added coming into the room.  Nick closed his eyes, not that that solved his dilemma.  To his surprise, Heath’s hand squeezed his giving him a little fortification. 

 

“Mother, Heath’s trying to sleep.  Can’t we have this discussion later?”

 

“Heath is awake, Nick,” Jarrod said.

 

“Oh.” Nick said, not that he didn’t know it, but he didn’t realize the others did.  Victoria pulled up a chair.  She sat down and took Nick’s other hand in hers.  Jarrod stood behind her.  Nick felt backed into a corner.  Only Heath’s strength kept him from bolting.

 

“Nick, I pray you never understand what it is to lose a child.  No matter how old your son or daughter gets, when you believe they are dead a part of you dies with them.”  Again Victoria’s voice choked.  Nick’s stomach felt queasy.  He remained quiet.

 

“Granted it wasn’t your fault that we believed you had died in the fire.  But there was a body, and your gun was nearby.  What else were we to think?  No one ever hinted you might have survived.  Maybe we all made mistakes.”  Nick knew his mother.  She was searching for reasons to take the blame off him until she would come back to the truth.  He had let her down.  He wasn’t surprised when she came to her conclusion, only disheartened.

 

“In the end, Nick, it was up to you to notify us, to let us come and help you, to ease your suffering and ours.  I won’t speak for your brothers or sister.  I’m certain they have their own words to speak to you. But I trusted you, Nick to allow your family to share the good and the bad in your life.  I gave you a second chance.  I think it might be a while before I trust you again not to break my heart.”  If Nick Barkley had expected his mother to tread softly with him because of his compromised situation, he was rudely awakened.  He didn’t cry, but felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his world, far more devastated than he had been when he woke up in a black world.  The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt his mother so deeply.

 

“Jarrod?” he asked. “You want to have at me too?” 

 

“No, Brother Nick.  I think Mother put it eloquently.”

 

“I don’t know what to say, except I’m sorry.  When I woke up in the hospital, I couldn’t move at all.  I had two broken legs, a fractured skull and I had been in and out for three weeks.  Another three weeks went by before I could talk.  I don’t know what possessed me to deny having a family when I was asked or giving a false name, but I did.  When it finally came time to leave the hospital, the only place I could think of going was the mission in Monterey that Heath had told me about.  I didn’t think I could go home after three months.  I was too ashamed.”

 

“Ashamed? Of what?” Victoria demanded. 

 

“Of not contacting you in the first place,” Nick admitted. “I told Father Bernard you would have helped me, but I had let you believe the worst for so long, I thought you’d never want to see me again, especially as angry as you were after the episode with the wolf.”  Heath squeezed Nick’s hand again.  Nick knew Heath understood him far better than even Jarrod.  They were too of a kind.  Silence fell on the room. 

 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Victoria sighed.  She came to sit behind him, hugging him about the thin waist, placing her head on his back.

 

“I don’t have to stay…” Nick started.

 

“Hush,” the mother ordered. “You are not going anywhere.” Her hug reminded Nick of the safety and security of family, of people who loved him despite his faults, of people who depended on him for caring and love, of people who wanted and needed him. 

 

“You mean you want me to stay?” Nick asked. “You just said…”

 

“I said you were going to have to prove to me that you will allow us to help you, Nick, that you trust us enough to confide when you are hurt or hurting in any way.  You need to love us enough to trust us.” 

 

“I thought I did,” Nick replied.  “Maybe I still have some issues of trust like Little Brother Heath did.”

 

“Not trust, Nick,” Jarrod said wisely. “Faith, faith in us and faith in yourself to know that you are fallible and you need us as much as we need you.”  Nick nodded. Victoria hugged Nick again.  He took her hand, raising it to his lips and kissing it.

 

“I love you, Mother,” he repeated as he had earlier. 

 

“I love you, Sweetheart,” she answered.

 

“If you’re done picking on Nick, can I sleep?” Heath asked.  Victoria’s head shot up.  She got up and put her hand on Heath’s forehead. 

 

“My goodness,” she exclaimed.

 

“What, Mother?” Jarrod and Nick both asked in concern.

 

“His fever’s broken.  He’s cool.  Heath, how do you feel?”

 

“Sleepy.  My back hurts like the devil, and my legs are restless.” 

 

“Restless?” Jarrod wondered in confusion.  He lifted up the covers at the end of the bed.  He lightly slapped Heath’s leg.

 

“Ow…what are ya doing, Jarrod?” Heath gasped. 

 

“You felt that?”

 

“Yeah.  Trying to bust my leg or something.”  Jarrod smiled pulling the covers back over his brother’s lower body.  Victoria and Jarrod exchanged glances.  Jarrod came over to stand by Nick.  He put his hand on his shoulder.

 

“I’d say we had three miracles here today.  With this many, maybe there’ll be another one, Nick,” he told his brother.  Nick’s smile lit up the room as his eyes filled with tears again. 

 

“Aw, Nick, You’re getting all wet,” Heath teased. 

 

“Stuff it, Little Brother. I’m just tired,” Nick denied.  Victoria turned to the tray Jarrod had brought in. 

 

“Jarrod, will you help me give Heath some water. I’m sure he’s thirsty.” 

 

“A little,” Heath admitted, his sapphire eyes sleepy, his hand still in Nick’s.  Nick removed the appendage not knowing his brother watched his every move. 

 

“Nick, stay.”

 

“I promise, Little Brother, but do ya mind if I change clothes? This priest get up is getting old.” 

 

“Nick, I’ll help you after Mother and I finish with Heath.  You can take a bath and get some fresh clothes.”

 

“Okay, Pappy.”  Nick’s quick acquiescence showed Jarrod, Victoria and Heath that the man had learned to accept help at least for now.  Victoria breathed a silent sigh of relief.  Heath’s attention was still on Nick as Jarrod lifted him.  His eyes widened as his world exploded in pain. 

 

“Nick!” he cried.  Nick moved on the bed, behind Victoria.  He let Heath grab his hand again.  Heath squeezed it hard as he tried to drink.  After getting down a few swallows, he pushed the glass that Victoria had been giving him away.

 

“No more,” he begged. “Please, let me lay down.”  Heath’s face had turned white when he was moved.  The color gradually came back.  His hand releasing Nick’s let him know the pain was easing.

 

“Boy howdy,” the blond breathed. “Reckon I’m gonna need Nick’s strong back to help me out for awhile.”

 

“Do you want some laudanum for the pain, Sweetheart?” Victoria asked. “It will help you sleep.” 

 

“For once, Heath, listen to your mother,” Nick urged.  “Else I lose my hand next time you move.” 

 

“I don’t like it,” Heath complained. “Makes me feel dopey.”

 

“There’s a new name for ya,” Nick teased.

 

“Jarrod, take him out,” Victoria ordered.  Jarrod and Heath snickered.  Nick let Jarrod lead him away to get cleaned up and laughed as Heath called after him.

 

“Bout time you had a bath, Nick.”  Victoria shook her head at her son. 

 

“Heath Barkley,” she scolded.  She used a teaspoon and gave the young man some laudanum.  “Between you and your brother…”

 

“And you love every minute of it,” Heath returned.  “Don’t be too angry with him, Mother.  We need him.”   Victoria sat on the edge of the bed where Nick had been.  She brushed back the blond hair, rubbing the furrow on Heath’s brow.  His forehead was cool and he hadn’t coughed, she thought.  He could feel his legs.  She dared to hope that soon her family would be back to normal…but she knew their lives were forever changed.

 

“Yes, we do need him, Heath, but we were all hurt terribly while he was gone.  You can’t deny that.”

 

“No,” Heath mused trying to find a comfortable spot in bed without success.  He grimaced.  His mother continued to rub his brow.  “That feels good.”

 

“I’m glad.”

 

“Mother, what if he never came back? What if we never knew?” Heath pointed out.  Victoria visibly shuddered.  “When it was most important…he came.  He couldn’t deny he was connected to us, even from a far distance.”  Heath’s voice grew sleepy again as the laudanum took effect. 

 

“How can I argue with you when you’re hurt?” Victoria teased while Heath closed his eyes.  “What would we have done if you never came to us?  This family is twice blessed tonight.”  Heath opened the blue eyes once more before he fell asleep. 

 

“You’re the blessing, Mother,” he told her, his body relaxing a bit as he gave in to slumber.  Tears filled Victoria Barkley’s eyes again.  Her family had come through the worst of times.  She knew there was a long road of recovery left for all of them, including herself.  But the connection, the phenomenon that made them family would see them through.  No matter what, they would preserver because they were family.

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

Heath’s recovery was slow.  When Father Bernard came in to see him, the blond thanked him for bringing his brother home and knocking some sense into him.  He also asked his old friend many questions about the time Nick had spent at the mission.  Father Bernard was only too happy to share Nick’s time with Heath.  He invited both the young men to come to the mission when Heath was better.  He told Nick he would continue to pray for him and Heath.  Nick thanked Father Bernard, but figured he had received the best answer to his own prayers.  He was home, and that was where he needed to be to feel like the person he was, like Nick Barkley.

 

Almost two weeks later, Heath was up and walking on crutches, his back still painful.  He was enjoying being outside.  The sun was bright overhead and it was warm.  He watched Nick talking with Duke McCall on the porch, not far from him.  Nick had quickly resumed his job of running the ranch.  As long as someone was with him, he showed no fear in undertaking almost any task, from mending fences to riding.  He had talked with Heath, knowing some of the jobs he used to do were out of the question, such as riding the broncs, going on a cattle drive or branding, but there was plenty to do on the ranch and Nick Barkley wasn’t backing off from any of it.  Heath was proud of his brother, and impatient to be able to get back to work as well.  He walked carefully down to the dining room where the hands were having lunch. 

 

“Hey, Heath,” one of the hands called out. “Look who’s up and around.  Got orders for us, Boss.”

 

“Not today, Rich, but not too long, not too long,” Heath said.  “Mind if I join you fellas?  My mother’s fussing is getting on my nerves.”  A general laugh went up from the men. 

 

“Sure, Heath.  Women can be pretty persnickety when ya ain't able to fight back.  I’ll get ya plate of stew and bread,” Dan answered. He brought Heath a plate of food as promised.  Heath listened to the general joshing of the men.  His ears picked up at a conversation from the table next to him.  One of the hands, a new man named Andy Hall and an older hand, Randy Quaid were talking about Nick.

 

“I ain't taking no orders from a blind man,” Andy was complaining. 

 

“Nick’s a good man, Andy. I’d watch your mouth if I was you.  Nick might be blind but he can pound you into the ground easy,” Randy warned.

 

“A blind man? I doubt that.  Don’t know which will be worse, taking orders from a crippled bastard or a blind cowboy.”  Heath stood, fire burning in his eyes and ears.  He used his crutch and pulled Andy’s chair out from under him.  Andy fell to the floor amid a general roar of laughter.

 

“Everyone out,” Heath ordered.  “Unless you plan to apologize for yer foul mouth, Hall.”  Andy Hall got to his feet.  He looked around at the men watching him.  If he apologized to a cripple, he reasoned the men would lose all respect for him.  He shook his head.

 

“Not on your life.  I meant what I said.” 

 

“Out,” Heath yelled.  The men hurried.  Heath was known to be the gentler of the two Barkley brothers, but when he got his dander up, it was best to get out of the way, fast.  The dining room emptied quickly.

 

“Well, Hall, the way I see it, you can apologize or this is gonna get nasty,” the blond boss said.

 

“What is the problem?  Can’t a man say what he thinks around here?” Hall shot back.

 

“Not when you insult my brother or me.  You don’t know us that well, and we’ve done nothing to earn your disrespect.”

 

“Ain't done nothing to earn it either, Bastard Boy.” The Barkley temper exploded.  Despite his condition,  Heath launched himself at Hall.  The two men fell to the floor rolling over pummeling each other.  Heath wasn’t anywhere near as strong as he needed to be.  Hall was tall, over six feet and he had about fifty pounds on Heath.  In this instance, the blond cowboy didn’t have a chance.  Hall took a few hits in the face and stomach from Heath, but he quickly recovered as Heath stood on unsteady feet.  He threw out a leg and pulled Heath’s feet out from under him.  Next the hand kicked Heath in the ribs.  Heath groaned in pain, trying to roll away from the assault.  Hall kicked Heath in the head, stunning him for a few minutes.  Figuring he had already lost his job, the irate man went over to one of the tables and picked up a kerosene lamp.  He crashed the lamp on the floor, and struck a match.  Heath had struggled to his feet again. 

 

“Hall, don’t,” he yelled.  “Fire!” Hall turned around, picked up a chair and aimed it at Heath as the flames took hold.  Heath grabbed the chair, and Hall pulled him off his feet again.  Then he took the chair and crashed it over Heath’s head.  Writhing in pain on the floor, barely conscious, Heath didn’t see Hall run out of the dining room.  The fire was close, the smoke smarting his eyes and getting into his lungs.  The smoke quickly blinded the blond cowboy as he used the wall to try and get up.  No one came to help until he fell to the ground unable to keep standing due to the pain in his head and the renewed pain in his back.  He closed his eyes, but crawled along the floor.  He had to get out.

 

“Heath!” Nick’s bellow reached Heath’s ears.  “Heath, where are you?  Heath, answer me!”

 

“Here, Nick!” came the desperate plea.  “Help.”  Heath never thought about his brother’s blindness.  All he thought about was how Nick was always there for him.  “Nick!”  With a final gasp, Heath lost consciousness. 

 

“Nick, we found him,” Duke McCall cried out.  “Nick?”

 

“Here,” Nick said, rubbing his eyes, cursing the smoke and coughing while he tried to reach his little brother. 

 

“Nick, we have to get him out of here.  The whole place is going to come down.” 

 

“I’m here,” Nick cried.  In a second, Nick and Duke had grabbed Heath’s arms.  They dragged him out of the burning building just as an explosion from the kerosene kept in a corner of the dining room blew the two men forward onto the ground.  Nick was up quickly, ignoring his throbbing head, and the men around him.  He turned to find Heath lying very still next to him.  Turning his brother over, he checked him for injuries.  Duke appeared on the other side.

 

“Nick! Heath!” Victoria Barkley cried arriving from the big house with Jarrod and Audra behind her.  She knelt next to her youngest son.  “Oh, Heath.  Nick are you all right?” 

 

“Yes, Mother,” Nick returned. “I think he’s all right too.  His pulse is good and he might have taken in some smoke.  He’s got some busted ribs, but he’s breathing.” 

 

“Let’s get him into the house,” Victoria ordered. “Duke, send one of the men for Dr. Merar.”  Jarrod stepped forward.

 

“Someone help me with my brother,” he ordered. Many of the men were fighting the fire. Nick stepped forward. 

 

“I’ll help ya, Pappy,” he offered.  Jarrod, Audra, Victoria stared at the dark cowboy with his black pants and shirt and tousled hair.  The empty hazel eyes had been replaced by intense love and care. 

 

“Nick, what happened?” Audra wondered. 

 

“I don’t know, Sis.”

 

“You can see,” Victoria breathed.  “Dear God in Heaven.”  The tiny matriarch hugged her son to her. 

 

“Mother, we have to help, Heath,” Nick reminded her.  Stepping back, crying again, Victoria allowed her two sons to take Heath into the house.  She hugged her daughter, then put her arm around her while they followed the men into the house.  While Duke and most of the hands worked at controlling the fire, a man was dispatched to get Dr. Merar.  When he arrived, Heath was awake and protesting being in bed again Dr. Merar examined him.

 

“Heath, you are one ornery patient,” Dr. Merar scolded. “Only a fool would take on a fight twelve days after getting shot in the back.  If you don’t stay in this bed for at least three days, I’ll tie you down myself.”

 

“And I’ll help him,” Nick growled. 

 

“Nick, you’re a fine one to talk.  A blind man running into a fire isn’t that much smarter than an injured beat up cowboy.”  Heath and Jarrod chuckled, Heath holding his ribs, while Victoria and Audra smiled, holding back their own amusement. 

 

“Heath, you’ve got some busted ribs and a nasty bump on the head.  You promise to let the sheriff take care of the man who did this to you and I’ll bind up your ribs.”

 

“He’s nothing more than a coward,” Heath countered still angry. 

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Nick said grimly. 

 

“Nick!” Victoria snapped.  “Jarrod can go into town and talk to the sheriff.  As for you, you are going to take it easy for the rest of the day.”  Nick didn’t dare argue.  Heath gave Dr. Merar his word not to go after Hall.  Dr. Merar finished with Heath and then turned his attention to Nick.  Nick sat in a chair while the doctor examined his eyes and lungs.

 

“Nick, you Barkley’s either have an angel watching over you or are the most lucky people I’ve ever met.  First Jarrod gets his sight back and now you.  That’s got to be a first.”

 

“What brought it back, Doc?” Heath asked for Nick.

 

“It’s possible going back into a similar situation where he lost his sight in the first place would explain the return of his sight.  Don’t suppose we’ll ever know more than we did about Jarrod.  You’ll have some blurry vision for a few days, Nick, but I’m guessing you’ll be back out on the range in no time.”

 

“Thanks, Doc,” Nick grinned. “Just what I wanted to hear.  Heath, soon as you’re ready, we’re going on round up.”  Heath pulled his covers over him.

 

“Uh, not just now, Big Brother.  Reckon I ought to get me some sleep before you get a chance to work me into the ground again rebuilding the dining room or something.”

 

“Oh, we’ll just blindfold Nick and he can show us how handy he really is in the dark,” Jarrod finished. 

 

“Counselor, if you want to try me…” Nick growled. 

Jarrod looked at the relieved and happy faces of his family.  His blue eyes met his brother’s hazel gaze, seeing the laughter behind the words.  He looked down at Heath who gave him a lopsided grin.  He slapped Nick on the back.

 

“Any time, Brother Nick, any time,” he returned. 

 

“Might as well go out there and see what the damage is,” Nick offered.  Heath groaned pulling the pillow over his face and then putting it back.  His mother had taken Nick by the arm.

 

“Nicholas, if you leave this house again today without taking a bath and a nap, I’ll take my wooden spoon to you,” she threatened.  “Good night, Heath.”

 

“Good night, Mother,” Heath returned, his body shaking in silent laughter.  He held his ribs with the pillow as he hollered out.  “Be a good boy, Nicky.”  Nick’s loud bellow echoed through the house as his mother led him away.

 

“You’ll regret that Dopey!”  Jarrod and Audra fell into each other’s arms laughing as well.  Heath simply put his hands under his blankets, enjoying the warm comfort on his sore back and ribs.  Nick was home.  His big brother was home at last…and the phenomenon called love would never let them be separated again.

 

 

 

THE END