Careful What You Wish For

Chapters 15-20

by kashkow1

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 15

Heath sat on a small rock on the edge of a stream, listening to the sounds of the night. There were the regular night birds, the burble of the stream, and the sounds of the men back at the camp about 50 feet away in a small clearing near an old cut bank that kept the fire out of sight. Heath looked up at the stars. It was nearing ten o’clock, and the men were going to sleep now. He would be on watch for another two hours, and then he would be relieved by another man who would watch through to four, then another man would watch until they moved out the next morning. Heath had chosen this spot because anyone coming up on the camp would have to pass nearby, and there would be little chance of the guard being seen. Heath shifted his rifle on his lap and shifted to a more comfortable position. In another few minutes he would get up and do a patrol around the camp, making sure there was no movement.

Huckmeister had said they would reach the claim tomorrow, and after setting up the sluice boxes they would begin working it the following day. The teamsters would haul the dry gravel to the stream to be worked through the sluices. Huckmeister was figuring that with all the help they would only be there for a week or two. Heath would set up round the clock guards with his men. He had five men besides himself, and he planned to have two men on guard at all times for four hours at a shift. Any longer and he felt the boredom would make the men inattentive, and that could be trouble. When not on duty the guards would be sleeping or helping out around the camp with chores. Then, once Huckmeister was sure that the main lens of pay dirt had been worked, they would pack up and return to Redding to assay out. Heath had wondered at the number of mules, but Huckmeister had assured him that the lens was gold rich, and large. It would be a potent draw to the lawless element. Heath planned to roam the area around the camp on a regular basis looking for signs of watchers. He reckoned that anyone who DID find them would wait until the gold was mined before striking, and that the best time to hit them would be when they were on the move and not dug in and ready. It was going to make for a tense trip back to civilization.

For now Heath was content to go along with the old saw that Aunt Rachel used to say, “Sufficient unto the day are the troubles thereof.” He wasn’t going to borrow trouble, but neither was he going to let it sneak up on him either. If there was going to be an ambush, he would go into it wit his eyes open, and his hand on his gun. The men he had chosen were good men, good fighters, and they would back him in any fight. It was a puzzle to Heath why when he thought of the possible fight to come he wished he had Nick at his back. Nick was more likely to shoot it than protect it, but still he found himself longing to hear the booming voice, and feel the security of knowing that Nick Barkley was there. He had a feeling, again not knowing why, that with Nick at his side there was nothing that could not be accomplished. He would even feel more comfortable with Jarrod there. The lawyer might be in the city for a good portion of his time, but there was a whipcord toughness to the lawyer that was hidden beneath the smooth exterior. Jarrod would be a good man to have at your back in a pinch. There had been few times in Heath’s life when he had been around men that he could count on in a fight, and he had allowed himself to dream…to think that maybe at some time in the future, it didn’t have to be right away, he knew how hard this all was, he could be considered one of the family, and be entitled to backup he could count on whenever he needed it.

For too long he had been alone. He had come to realize that in the last few months. It had been a necessity after the war. He had been a teenager in the body of an old man. With the mind of a lunatic it seemed. He could not stand to be inside for any length of time, even standing in a corral for any time at all started to raise the hairs on the back of his neck and make his skin crawl. He hadn’t been fit for polite company, and so he had taken himself from it, from the towns, from the people, from his mother. He had retreated to the mountains where he could see for miles, and the sea where he could see forever. He had kept himself free of any encumbrances, except the need to send what money he could back to his mother, Finally he had gotten to the point where he could be with other men and not watch them suspiciously. Where he could spend some time with a woman, and enjoy the simple pleasures of the feminine company. But even with the renewed comfort with the company of others, he had still kept mostly to himself. When he traveled he traveled alone. Except for when he was playing poker he kept to himself in the bunkhouse or saloon. He preferred work that he could do alone rather than with others, riding fence, nighthawk, trailbreaker, etc.

But that had changed once he had gone to the Barkley ranch. He had fought his way in, and hadn’t realized what it would mean. Having others that cared for him, who noticed if he came in at night, or didn’t eat, or didn’t have but two shirts to his name. At first he had stayed at the edges, watching how the others interacted, leaning what was expected of him, and what wasn’t. He was surprised at how easy it had been to slowly become one of the group; to meld with the flow of their lives. He had allowed himself to believe that it was permanent, and that had been his downfall. He should have kept to himself. There, but not theirs. He could have done it. He had resisted before. He had been asked to stay on many ranches, offered a place that could have been his for life. Foreman, head of the breeding program, one man had even offered to make him his heir, if he would only stay and run the ranch for him until he died. He had refused them all, knowing without knowing how that it wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Then he had found where he was supposed to be, and it hadn’t worked out. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, take what he had come to want so badly at the cost of what Nick wanted. He had been surprised at that. He had recently come to think of himself as selfish. He had thought only of himself for the last seven years. He hadn’t thought about what his need for solitude had cost his mother, or the two women that he considered his aunts. He had sent money when all they really wanted was him. He now understood the value of family, the strength that the closeness could give you. Would his mother have fought harder to live if he had been there? Would it have been the difference? He would never know. But he would not think of himself first again, he would give the family a gift equal to what they had offered him, the freedom to live without shame. They had taken him in, offered him a name. The least he could do was give it back to them clean. He shook his head, tired of the thoughts that kept coming back to him. He had analyzed this until his head hurt. Thinking about it wouldn’t change anything, and it just brought the hurt back up, not that it had really gone. It was a burning fire in the back of his mind. He needed to let go. H had done it before, released his ties on those things he held dear, for their own good, or for his, and he needed to do it again now. His train of thought was brought to an end when he was relieved for the next guard shift.

The next day they arrived at the claim. Heath was not best pleased by the lay of the land. He left the others to set up the camp as he prowled the area, seeing where they would need to watch for possible thieves, or maybe more importantly, someone watching their progress. He did not intend to be caught unawares. A healthy dose of suspicion kept a man alive. Determining in his mind where he would put the sentries he returned to the camp and sent two men out. Huckmeister came up to him and watched as Heath surveyed the camp. The old man smiled.

“I can see you’re not pleased with something youngun. But you got to remember I wasn’t thinking about defending the claim, just mining it. I only can claim so much land.” He said.

Heath shrugged “Got to make do with what the Lord sees fit to give us. We’ll move some of that deadfall timber over so that we have cover if necessary. Where you figuring on setting up your sluice?”

The old man led him to the side of the creek, which at this time of the year was running high still with the snow runoff from the higher mountains around them. The water was muddy brown. The section of Huckmeister’s claim that edged the stream was in what amounted to an eddy behind a rocky outcrop. Huckmeister waved at the outcrop.

“I figure that we put the head of the sluice there on the end where the water is running. Feed it right in and set up a gate. I’ll run the sluice out over the eddy and let the runoff go on downstream. Get your feet wet taking out the black sand, but it’s better than toting bucket of water through the day to feed the sluice.”

Heath nodded in understanding. The sluice box, a method of washing the dirt and gravel to winnow out the lighter, non-gold parts would make this a lot quicker than trying to pan out everything by hand. They would be able to work nearly round the clock with some lanterns, and depending on the size of the lens, be out of here in a few weeks time. Of course the heavy materials, called black sand, would have to be worked off by hand in the gold pans, but Huckmeister was an expert at it, and said that several of the teamsters were also pat hands at it. It shouldn’t slow them down too much.

It being late in the day the designated cook had a pot of stew bubbling on the fire, and some biscuits cooking in a dutch oven. The smell of the food was enticing. They were using the last of their dried meat, and Heath knew that he would have to start hunting for some fresh meat for the camp tomorrow. It would give him something to do other than toting gravel or standing guard. The country was perfect for deer, lots of brush for browsing, and abundant water at this time of the year. The local deer should not be overly wary of hunters due to the remoteness. He would go early tomorrow morning and see what he could see. It would also give him a chance to survey the surrounding area. Later that night heath was once again on the guard duty. He had planned it so that the guards would walk the perimeter of the camp, passing each other as they would, making sure that no one fell asleep or stayed too long in one place. He had traded his riding boots for a pair of soft moccasins that he had acquired from a half-breed friend several years back. The man had needed money, and had nothing to give in exchange except the pair of moccasins made by his full-blooded wife. Too proud to take the money without returning like value, he had practically forced them on Heath. They had proven to be very well made, made of chewed buckskin. They were much more comfortable for waling than the riding boots, and they allowed him to move quietly through the forested area. He quickly learned to make just enough noise to let the other guard know when he was approaching after almost getting shot when he surprised the man. The other guard had been embarrassed, and Heath had gently teased him the next several times around. It felt good to laugh, he felt like he hadn’t been able to for a long time.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t laughed in the last several months. He had found that in Audra he had a sibling that enjoyed laughter. Once she had gotten used to him, had accepted him, she had started to tease him. She would kid him about his solemn face and about how his hair stood up in a cowlick sometimes in the morning. Heath had even gotten comfortable enough to let his own sense of humor come out with her. He had been the only one to come in for lunch one day when Mrs. Barkley and Silas were in town shopping. Audra had been in charge of lunch, and had decided that she needed to cook something, instead of simply making sandwiches. He had taken a bite, and had almost spit it back out. It was horrible. He had managed to force it down by eating quickly, but that had backfired when she offered him more. Evidently the look on his face had given him away because Audra had gotten red in the face and had stomped her foot at him like some angry filly.

“Heath Barkley, that is perfectly good stew! Don’t you tell me it isn’t. Just because Jarrod, Nick, and Eugene think I can’t cook doesn’t mean you have to get on the bandwagon, too. Why I enter my pickles every year at the fair.” She declared. Heath looked at her closely and could see that she wasn’t hurt at his not liking her food, and se he sat back in the chair, reaching out to snare a piece of Silas’ fresh baked bread that Audra had sliced.

“Have you ever won anything?” He inquired. He could see by the blush in her cheeks that she hadn’t.

“No. But there are a lot of people who enter. Everyone can’t win.”

“How long you been entering?” he said as he slid his bowl as far away from him as his arm would reach. He didn’t want her trying to sneak some in on him.

Another tide of color swept up her cheeks, and the proud little chin rose in the air in a way that reminded Heath of Nick. “Since I was eleven, but that is beside the point.” She pointed to the large pot of stew she had created. “I put exactly the same things in that stew that Silas puts in his, cook it the same amount of time, and you cannot tell me that it is not as good!”

Heath leaned further back in his chair, tilting it up on its back legs, and pretended to consider what she had said. His eyes fell on a picture that hung on the wall of the kitchen, and he felt a smile tugging at his lips, but suppressed it as he looked seriously at Audra. That picture was a bone of contention between Nick and Audra. Nick, had painted the picture at age 8, during an art class. The teacher, who Jarrod swore was trying to curry favor with the Barkley family, had declared it a work of art and made much of it. The young Nick had demanded that the picture be hung somewhere in the home where everyone could see it. After a good deal of hemming and hawing from his parents, who agreed the picture was hideous, Silas had suggested the wall in the kitchen. It had hung there since then. Heath suspected that Nick was not really all that fond of it, having grown out of the stage where he wanted the attention regardless of the source. He thought that his brother insisted on the picture remaining just to irritate his siblings. “Seems to me that painters all use the same paint, same brushes, same canvass, but some don’t produce as good a picture as others do. I reckon that might be the case with your cookin’” He looked pointedly at the picture. Audra followed his gaze, and gave a horrified gasp. She started around the table and Heath lowered the chair to the floor and moved quickly to keep the table between them. She dodged the other way trying to catch him. He went the other way. As he came even with the kitchen door he made a break and was out the door before she could get around the table. He heard her yelling a threat after him as he trotted toward the barn. It had made his day lighter, and had started a continuing string of teasing that they engaged in.

Aside from that he had found himself slowly regaining the sense of humor that had left him in Carterson, or maybe even earlier. He found himself joking with Duke, or one of the men that had accepted him. He laughed with Jarrod over something that the lawyer related about his day. He shared a smile with Mrs. Barkley as Nick came into the house with a bellow. Then there was Nick. As the months had gone along Heath had found himself having to stop himself from turning to Nick to share a thought, observation, or a laugh. He knew such familiarity would not be welcome, and had felt a surprisingly deep pain that it was so. For some reason that lack had been so much more significant than the abundance he had found elsewhere. Why it should be so he didn’t know, and he never would now.

The next two weeks went by quickly with all the men working hard. The lens proved to be just as large as Huckmeister had thought, and Heath was impressed with the amount of gold they were taking out, Huckmeister felt that it might be worth it to return after he had cashed in the results of this trip and work the rest of the claim. The lens might have the bulk of the gold, but the rest of the area might yield a fair amount of gold as well. At that point he could afford to pay for others to work it. He might even be able to expand the claim by taking on partners who could claim portions on either side. The whole area might prove to be rich. Huckmeister had little time for prospecting beyond his own boundaries however as he and the others spent their time panning out the black sand. Heath assigned another man to stand guard at the water’s edge near the sluice. The men were most vulnerable there, and he wanted them to have some hope of reaching cover in case of attack. Not that anything seemed to be happening. Aside from a crawly feeling between his shoulder blades starting five days after they had arrived, Heath had seen no signs of them being watched. He had learned to trust that feeling however, and he had been careful as he went out to hunt, and had made sure the other men kept on their toes. When Huckmeister had asked him if the guards were really necessary Heath had simply nodded. He wasn’t going to back down on it. It was his job, he had promised to do his best to make sure that the gold was safe, and all he had left was his word.

Finally, three weeks after they had set up camp, Huckmeister decided they had worked the lens out. He was satisfied that the bulk of the easily accessed gold was out. A remarkably large amount of gold dust and nuggets had been winnowed from the gravels, and the mules would be heavily laden on the trip out. Heath discussed his plans for the return trip with Huckmeister, and the old man agreed to follow the younger man’s suggestions. They would leave the tents and much of their gear here. That way, not only would they be able to spread the heavy gold load more evenly among the mules so that they could move faster, but anyone watching from a distance might not know that they were gone.

Heath planned to leave the camp as they had left Shasta, in the dark of night. He had made sure that the gold was put into the packs for the mules as it was bagged, thus they could quickly and quietly load the mules and go without to much ado. They planned it all out, and on the night they had decided as soon as the sunset they began to load the mules, working by the light of the campfire only. The horses were saddled also. Three to four men were always sitting around the fire, to keep up appearances, and the guards walked the perimeter. They then waited until it was about the time that everyone should have been asleep. The men moved into their bedrolls, and the fire slowly faded. Once it was gone and only the light of the half moon lit the area, they moved quickly to roll up the bedrolls and moved to their horses. They made good time once they had got out of the canyon they had been camped in. The water had dropped over the time they had been working, and they could follow the course of the creek toward the Trinity. Once they reached the larger river, it would be a few days ride before they would be able to make better time on the wagon road that ran along the river for the supply wagons going to the hydraulic mines. Heath would have preferred to avoid the roads, but moving across country in this kind of terrain was difficult even on unladed horses, with the mules it would have taken much longer, and the longer they were out, the more opportunities existed for ambush.

They reached the mouth of Frenchman’s Creek just before dawn. The horses, mules, and the men were tired, and only Elspeth, carrying the food and cooking supplies, seemed ready to go on. The burro seemed to bray with displeasure when they stopped to make camp in the same hollow that they had used the night before they had reached the claim. Heath once again set the guard, this time having two men out, moving constantly. The cut bank would offer them protection from the rear, and the guards would be able to cover the rest easily. Heath wished they could have as good a position on the following nights. He would be moving ahead of the rest, scouting the trail, hunting up possible campsites and watching for any sign of ambush. They kept moving at night, the moon lighting their way. It was slower this way, but Heath felt it was safer.

It was on the third night, as they were camped at the side of the stage road they had reached that morning, that what he had been planning against happened. Heath had been restless all day. He didn’t sleep well, but he put that off as being because of the heat. He had already done his guard duty, and someone else was taking care of the cooking, so he grabbed his rifle and slipped into the brush to make his own pass around the camp. He announced himself to one of the guards on his way out, and faded into the brush. He made his circuit, and found nothing that should have the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He stood for a while watching the river flow, and listening to the sounds of the water and the birds. Everything seemed all right, but his hackles refused to agree with his evaluation. He stayed there until the sun started to disappear behind the mountains to the west. They would be eating dinner and getting ready to move again soon. The traveling tonight should be a lot easier, and they would be back in Shasta the day after tomorrow.

He came up on the camp quietly, moving with his usual caution. He kept an eye out for the guard who should be in this area, but didn’t see him. Heath stood still and listened. He couldn’t hear anyone moving, or any sound from the camp. He had asked everyone to keep the noise to a minimum, and evidently they had taken it to heart. But the guard should have been nearby, Heath started forward again and cast around for some sign of the guard, He found where the guard had been standing when he passed before. He could see the path the man had made through the brush, and he started in the direction the tracks led. He came around a large rock, and found the guard. He instantly knew why he hadn’t been walking the perimeter. He was lying face down in the dust, a drying puddle of blood at his side. Heath turned him over, and saw the knife wound in his chest. He spared a moment of regret for the man that had come out to do a job and had found his death. Heath would make sure that the full money owned the man would go to his widow and children. Heath closed the staring eyes and rose to his feet. Griping his rifle tighter he continued on around the edge of the camp, looking for the other guard. He found him, like the first, lying dead in the brush. Heath stood from examining the body of the second man and looked toward the camp. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he did know one thing, whoever had killed these men, they had known. The killer had walked right up to them and stabbed them in the chest. Armed guards would not have allowed a stranger to approach.

Heath’s mind whirled. That could mean one of two things. Someone that both men knew had come from town while Heath was out near the river. He or they had killed the guards, and was now in camp. This seemed unlikely since the guards would have been suspicious of anyone that showed up out of the blue. The second possibility was that someone from the camp had come out to the guards, and had killed them. That seemed far more likely, and much more distasteful. If that was so, then Heath doubted that the killer would be working alone. One man could not hope to overpower or kill everyone, or handle the mules should he get away with the gold.

Heath was torn. He could stay out here, safe from the killers, but that wasn’t doing his job. If he went into the camp to warn the others, he would have no way of knowing which men were involved. He would have been willing to swear on the honesty of the men he had hired, but Huckmeister had felt the same about his teamsters. It seemed one of them had been wrong. As he was pondering how he was going to handle this, he noticed that there was a plume of smoke coming from the camp. In the last light of the day it was a beacon to anyone looking for the camp. The decision, which really hadn’t been much of a decision was taken out of his hands. He rushed forward into the camp. The men were getting ready to leave, and were looking at the man standing near the fire. He was looking shamefaced at the pile of bedding that had landed in the fire, making it smoke. Heath didn’t say a word as he grabbed a pail of water that was standing near the horses and dumped it on the fire. He cast a cold blue eye on the man standing nearby.

“Sorry.” The man said in a blatantly unrepentant tone, and retrieved the soggy soldering remains of his bedroll. It was one of the teamsters. Heath watched him head toward the mules where everyone was loading their things. He carefully watched who he spoke to, and who spoke to him. A small group of men formed around the one man, there seemed to be four of them. They cast looks in Heath’s direction. He stared back for a moment then turned away. He located Huckmeister and went to his side. The old man looked up at him, and was about to say something when he noticed the grim _expression on Heath’s face. His bushy eyebrows drew together.

“What is it son? Something’s got your tail feathers ruffled.” He asked. Heath took the old man’s arm and led him aside. He told the old man about the bodies of his guards, and the smoke signal he had just put out. He mentioned the names of the men he had noticed talking together. The old miner shook his head sadly. “Damn boy, it’s a shame when greed ruins a good man. I’ve known Ed Hastings for over ten years. I would have swore he was honest as the day is long. There were some rumors about him being a bit too free at the poker table, and owing money. I put them down as just rumors, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. The rest are all relatives of Ed, one brother, two cousins and a nephew. Anything Ed does they’ll back him. His brother, Tom, has him a knife that he’s real proud of, keeps talking about how he’s an expert with it. If I recall correctly he went into the bush to ‘take care of business’ about an hour ago. What you figure to do?”

“I think that since I just walked into camp and didn’t say nothin’ they think that I don’t know what’s happened with the guard. I think they may be planning to take us by surprise just as we are ready to leave. Probably gonna hold the rest of us at gunpoint while they make a get away with the mules and horses. They’ll be long gone before we get back to Shasta. I say we brace them now, and disarm them.”

“What do we do with them then?” The old man asked. “We’ll have a time keeping them under control and moving the mules shorthanded.”

“I think we should leave them here. With no horses they’ll not be catching up to us. If they were trying to signal someone out there, they’ll be expecting help from the inside when they attack, and we’ll be forewarned.” Huckmeister, unable to offer a second option agreed.

“Do you think we can trust the others? Do we warn them?” he asked. Heath shrugged.

“I would have said we could trust the lot this morning. But now I have to wonder. My three men will back me I think, no matter what I do. I don’t know about the other teamsters. I think it would be best to just brace them and get it over with. No use warning them by talking to the wrong man.”

The miner slapped Heath on the back in a hearty manner and went back to his gear. He casually picked up the shotgun that was his only weapon, holding it down by his leg. He picked up his bedroll with his left hand, and pulled the two hammers back on the gun. Heath went to his own gear and took it to where Gal stood. He slid the rifle into the sheath on his saddle. It wasn’t the best weapon for close work anyway. He also reached down and loosened the knife in his boot. He hoped that they would simply be able to take the men by surprise and leave them here, but he suspected that since they had already killed it was unlikely that they would be peaceable about it. He cast a glance at Huckmeister who was ostensibly checking the bindings on Elspeth’s load. The old man nodded. Heath stepped away from Gal, and moved to where he was within ten feet of the small group of men they suspected. Huckmeister, was on his left. Out of the corner of his eye Heath saw the older man bring the shotgun up and lay it across the bundle on the burro’s back.

“You boys just step back from the mules and very slowly take out your pistols.” Heath said to the five men who were in a small huddle. They looked around at him, surprised. The other men in the camp stopped what they were doing and stared in greater surprise.

“What’s this all about?!” Ed Hastings asked, stepping forward a little. He seemed to be the ringleader, though Heath didn’t stop watching the others also.

“I think you know what it’s about. It’s mostly about the two men you all killed out in the brush, and what you were plannin’ on doin’ with the rest of us. You care to tell us who you were signalin’ with that smoke?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. How about we just all calm down here and talk about this civilized like?” Hastings said. As he finished speaking he went for his gun. Heath’s hand dropped like lightening to his own pistol, and it was his own colt that fired first, the bullet taking Hastings in his right shoulder. The man spun around and fell to the ground. The rest of the men started to move, but Huckmeister spoke from where he stood. Drawing their attention to him and his shotgun, the double barrels yawning in their direction.

“The rest of you better just stay still.” They complied. Huckmeister nodded. “There you go. Seems you ain’t as dumb as your kin. Now, real slowly you all take your guns and put them on the ground.” He cast a look at the other men, who had been still until now. “The rest of you need to know that these men killed the two out on guard duty. They were probably planning on either killing us or leaving us out here with no horses or guns. Now if you feel that you want to throw in with them, you’re welcome to join them in staying here after we move on. Otherwise, you all just stay out of it, and we’ll take care of it.”

“You can’t leave us out here!” Said Tom Hastings. He had lowered his gun to the dust, and keeping a wary eye on Huckmeister, stepped forward toward Heath.

Heath turned his gun toward Hastings, and gave a small humorless smile. “Reckon this pistol, and that shotgun over there, say we can do about anything we want with you. Come to that, given what you did to those two boys out there, we could just hang you all from that there oak. Now step back from the guns, the lot of you, and don’t move too fast.” The men complied, grumbling. Heath stepped forward and picked up the pistols, staying out of Huckmeister’s line of fire. He put the guns well out of the men’s reach and then bent over Ed Hastings.

The man was unconscious, but the bleeding was already slowing from the wound in his shoulder. Heath took the knife out of his boot and started to cut the shirt away from the wound. As he did so he heard Huckmeister’s yell. He looked up to see Tom Hastings raising a knife to throwing position. Without thinking Heath flipped the knife in his hand over so that the blade was in his hand, and with a sideways flick of his wrist, flung the knife at Hastings. The other man staggered and looked at his chest in amazement, staring at the knife handle that seemed to grow from the center of his chest. He gave a gurgling gasp and fell to his side. He drew in a couple more labored breaths and then stopped moving all together. Heath got to his feet.

“Any of the rest of you want to try somethin’?” he asked. The remaining three men shook their heads. Heath looked at one of his remaining guards. “You think you can get their stuff off the horses and pile it over by the fire?” The man nodded and went to take the bedrolls off three horses. Heath had him take the saddles off the horses and leave those as well. Huckmeister kept his shotgun aimed at the men the whole time. Another of the guards stepped forward and offered to get them some food out of the supplies. Huckmeister agreed. Heath knelt back at Ed Hastings’ side and bandaged the wound. The bullet had gone through, so there wouldn’t be any lead poisoning, and the man would probably survive.

“You just gonna leave us here, with no guns or nothing to defend ourselves?” One of the other Hastings men asked. Heath quirked the humorless smile again.

“Reckon there can only be so many thieves and murderers out hereabouts. You shouldn’t have no trouble getting’ out. You might want to consider that we’ll be tellin’ the law about you, and not just that crooked sheriff in Shasta. Might want to think about that while you’re walkin’ out.”

Heath stood from beside Hastings and looked around. Things seemed to have worked out well for them, but the hair on the back of his neck was still standing on end. He started to turn to Huckmeister, when he heard the guard that had been stacking the things by the fire start to cry out. His cry was cut off by the sound of a shot, which echoed through the canyon. Heath started to turn toward the source of the shot, his pistol already in his hand and coming to bear when he felt a blow to his left side. IT felt like he had been run down by a stampede. He suddenly found himself on the ground, lying on his side. He vaguely heard a voice, a familiar voice, telling Huckmeister to throw down the shotgun. The sun seemed to have finished setting suddenly, as the darkness closed around him, and he knew no more.

Chapter 16

Jarrod felt a chill go through him as he watched helplessly as Nick reached out and grabbed the shoulder of the man they believed to be Heath. Even if this was Heath, Jarrod knew this wasn’t the thing to do. He had not been at the ranch much over the last few months due to a heavy caseload, but he had been there enough to know that Heath had hair-trigger reflexes. He had seen it himself one day when the family had been out for an early spring picnic at Audra’s instigation. They had gone to the small lake in the western pasture, feasting on Silas’ fried chicken and potato salad. Jarrod had opted to stretch out on the blanket in the sun, letting the early spring heat soak into him, and resting his tired body. His mother had settled beside him, a large sun hat shading her face, reading a book. Nick, unwilling to relax in Heath’s presence had gone off to fish on his own further down the shore. Heath and Audra, already on easy terms, had gone to sit on a rock at the edge of the lake, and were talking quietly about something. Audra had risen to her feet and started searching around for something on the ground. She found what she was looking for and proceeded to skip the stone she picked up across the lake. Heath shook his head and rose to his feet to do his own looking. There commenced a fierce battle until all the useable stones were at the bottom of the lake. Finally Heath had called a halt, but Audra refused to give up, claiming Heath only wanted to quit while he was ahead. She continued searching for stones, moving further afield. She leaned over to pick up a stone, and came face to face with a rattlesnake, newly out of his winter burrow and in a bad mood about being disturbed. The snake reared up, and would have no doubt struck her but Heath had moved like lightening.

One moment he had been teasing Audra about not being able to admit defeat, and the next his gun was in his hand and smoking. Jarrod had barely had time to sit up, reacting to Audra, gasp of terror, before the gunshot was echoing across the lake. Before he could rise Heath had sheathed his gun and ran to Audra’s side, making sure the snake had not struck her. She had fallen into his arms sobbing in relief. Nick had come charging back down the shore, gun in hand, bellowing questions. It had ended the day, but it had stuck in Jarrod’s mind. There was no doubt in his mind that Heath was not a man to startle. As it was, when Nick jerked the man around, Jarrod could instantly see that it wasn’t Heath. But this man was nearly as fast, as a small derringer appeared in his hand, and came up to point at Nick. At this range even the small caliber would be fatal. Jarrod raised his hands away form his sides in an effort to appear as unthreatening as possible.

“We’re sorry to have bothered you. My brother thought you were someone else..” he started, only to be interrupted by Nick. Jarrod threw him a frustrated look that his brother ignored.

“No, Jarrod I didn’t think he was Heath, at least not in the end, but I do think he’s wearing Heath’s shirt, and I want to know why.” Nick said in his bossiest tone, ignoring the fact that a gun was pointed at his head. The man holding the gun looked from Nick to Jarrod and back again the barrel of the small gun not wavering. Finally he lowered the pistol, and put it in his pocket.

“I don’t imagine either of you gentlemen have the last name of Howland?” The man inquired coolly with a raised eyebrow. The Barkley’s exchanged looks, and shook their heads. “Well, good. That makes things simpler. You have some questions?” he asked, looking Nick in the eye.

Nick was a little put off by the man’s coolness, but he just shrugged it off. He was too focused on his purpose to wonder about the man beyond how he was connected to Heath. He looked around. There didn’t seem to be too many private places they could talk. Jarrod, sensing what Nick was looking for waved a hand toward a cafe that was across the street.

“Perhaps some coffee?” He suggested smoothly. The tall blond man nodded. He tucked his ticket carefully into his wallet.

“I have to take the southbound train when it leaves in forty minutes. I hope you gentlemen don’t have too many questions.” He warned, leaning down to pick up the carpetbag at his feet.

“Not at all. We certainly do not wish to keep you from your train. In fact we are in something of a hurry ourselves.” Jarrod said. Nick led the way to the café where they got a table. The blond man ordered breakfast, while Nick and Jarrod asked only for coffee.

“Perhaps introductions would be in order.” Jarrod suggested. “My name is Jarrod Barkley, and this is my brother, Nick. We’re looking for our younger brother Heath, and have reason to believe that he is in the area. Your style of dress is very similar to his.”

Nick snorted. “I tell you Jarrod, he’s wearing Heath’s shirt! It’s not just similar.”

The blond man smiled gently, sipping at his coffee. He set the cup down. “Ely Whitaker. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He said. “I am afraid I don’t know anyone by the name of Barkley.” He said, not prepared to reveal anything to these men. The name Heath was rare enough that it seemed too much of a coincidence that the man that had gotten him out of Shasta and the man these two men were looking for was not the same. However, he was not going to repay the stranger’s kindness by setting the dogs on him if these men turned out to be someone other than who they claimed. The one dressed in black could be a cowhand, a bounty hunter, or even a lawman by virtue of his dress and manner. The other was no regular cowhand or even a lawman. His words and manner suggested some sort of professional man, maybe a doctor, banker, or lawyer.

“My brother left our home under a misapprehension…Jarrod started, only to have Nick interrupt.

“The hell with the fancy words Jarrod. Heath is probably calling himself Thompson, and we know that you know him since you are wearing his clothes. Now enough of this making nice. Where is my brother?” he demanded. Whitaker eyed him coolly and then turned to look at Jarrod who gave him a small smile.

“My brother is anxious to find our younger brother. You’ll have to forgive him. Our brother, Heath, left home thinking that he would not be returning, and we believe that he may be using an assumed name.” He didn’t wish to get into the story of why Heath had another name. “We, and the rest of our family, want him to come home. We know that he is in the area. We’ve been able to track him as far as Shasta, where I believe the stage you just got off of came from this morning. I understand that you do not know us, and that you have no reason to trust what we say, but I can assure you we mean Heath no harm.” He glanced in warning at Nick who was fuming silently at being dismissed.

“And since you’re wearing his shirt we aren’t going to believe that you don’t know him, so you might as well admit it.” Nick growled. He was becoming inpatient. This man knew where Heath was, and if he didn’t start giving them some information soon, Nick was going to take matters into his own hands, literally.

Whitaker turned his cool eyes back to Nick, and appeared to read his intent easily. He gave a small smile. “I can see that you are anxious indeed, but I don’t think I’m going to be much help.” Nick felt his heart drop at the man’s words, but managed to keep from making a further outburst as the stranger continued. “I met the man I believe might be your brother only yesterday, last night in fact, at a saloon in Shasta.” He felt no compunction at telling the men this information. He knew it would not give them any clue as to the current whereabouts of the young man, not that he could really help them on that in any event. He was still not sure that he believed the story these men were telling him, but there did seem to be sincerity in the one man’s eyes, and when he said he couldn’t help much he had seen a moment of despair in the hazel eyes of the other, an almost gut-wrenching look of loss.

“Anything you can tell us would be helpful.” Jarrod assured Whitaker. He too had felt the let down when the man had said that he couldn’t really help, but he tried to remain optimistic. It was more than they had at this time, and it might just give them the information they needed to find Heath.

“Your brother, if he was your brother, did me a good turn. I had the good fortune to win a rather profitable game of poker last night. Unfortunately the gentleman who I won the most from is a member of a local family that is not known for its tolerance of losing. Your brother suggested that for my health I might wish to leave town, and in fact the area, before they took steps to regain what the young man had lost.” Whitaker went on to tell them the rest of the story, including how when he had boarded the stage that morning the young man in question had been there with two other men. They had been watching the hotel entrance down the block. No doubt watching for a mustachioed man in a black broadcloth suit and black hat. Whitaker had left the hotel by the back door, and had approached the stage as soon as it had been drawn up in front of the station. He had thrown his bag up to the driver and climbed in where he was hidden for the most part by the side of the stage. The rest of the customers had loaded quickly and they were away, with Whitaker breathing a sigh of relief. The young man had been proven right, and it had only enforced the gambler’s plan. He was not going to another town down the line. He had a destination. He was going home. As he watched the emotions play over the faces of his audience, it pleased him to think that perhaps he could help the young man that had helped him in more ways than he knew, get home also. When he finished his story they sat in silence for a few minutes, absorbing what they had heard. Then Nick got to his feet and left the table abruptly, slamming the door as he went out of the café.

“Well.” Jarrod finally said. His eyes followed his brother out the door and then, through the window, down the street. He knew that Nick was frustrated, and moving was the only way he had to express that frustration without destruction. He sighed. The information gave them a little more help, but if what Heath had told the gambler was true, he was already gone from Shasta, on his way to some unknown place to the west. Jarrod and Nick had looked at a crude map of the mountains to the west, and had not been cheered. They were for the most part unmapped, and rough. There were hundreds of canyons and small streams. The claim could be on any one of them. He sighed again and looked at the gambler who was finishing his breakfast, one eye on the clock. “We appreciate your help, Mr. Whitaker.” He said as he pushed back his chair and stood.

Whitaker offered a hand, and they shook. “Not at all Mr. Barkley. Your brother did me a good turn out of no better reason then he would not see another man hurt if he could help it. It was a very….illuminating experience for a man like me to run into such a person under such circumstances. You can understand that I tend to see the worst that a man can be in my profession. It was a reminder that there is more to life than money and the accumulation of it. It is a gift that I cannot repay. I hope you find him. He wiped his lips with a napkin and stood. He started to reach for his wallet, but Jarrod forestalled him with a wave, and dropped several bills on the table.

“Thank you Mr. Barkley. I have to go, or I’ll miss my train. I find that I suddenly have business back east, and I am anxious to get there as soon as possible. As I said, I hope you find your brother. On short acquaintance, he’s a good man.”

“And on longer acquaintance as well, Mr. Whitaker. Have a good trip.” The two men separated outside the café, Whitaker heading toward the train station, and Jarrod standing, watching him go. He then looked down the street hoping for a hint of where Nick had gone. He did not see his black clad brother. He started back toward the hotel, thinking that in the end Nick would think to go there. He would use the time to get their things packed, and pay their room charges. They could rent horses again from the livery, and be on their way this morning. They should be able to get well past Shasta by dark, and so their search would begin.

It seemed that he and his brother were on something of the same track, as when he arrived back at the hotel he found Nick in the lobby, their bags at his feet, paying the clerk. As he entered the building Nick bent to pick up the bags, and with barely a glance at Jarrod pushed past on his way to two horses that stood at the tie rail in front of the hotel. They were both rangy, shaggy looking beasts with rough coats, but good lines. Jarrod took his saddlebags from Nick and tied them on the saddle of the horse he assumed to be his, as Nick was doing the same on the other.

“I must say you moved swiftly Brother Nick. Renting the horses, packing our things, and checking us out, all in a small amount of time. One could wish for this type of alacrity when I requested some sort of paperwork from you regarding the ranch.” Jarrod teased gently. Nick threw him a nasty look over his shoulder and untied the reins of his horse.

“I bought these jugheads, counselor, if you must know, and if you wanted something worthwhile that made sense, you’d get your papers with as much alacrity as you could want. Now, let’s get some supplies and shake the dust of this town off our feet. I’m getting mighty tired of it.” Nick growled as he started down the street toward a general store. Jarrod smiled and went after his brother.

Three weeks later things had gotten to the point where Jarrod had seriously considered splitting up, and arranging to meet somewhere in a certain amount of time, or simply retreating to Shasta and waiting for Heath to return with the miner and his gold. The arguments against the second course of action were numerous, and the first was out of the question. This wasn’t country that a man wanted to be riding alone. The fact was he was getting tired of Nick’s increasingly bad mood. Not that he really blamed his brother, but growling at everything was not going to make this any easier, or find heath any faster, if at all. They had been on the trail constantly since leaving Shasta, and were starting to run low on supplies. They would have to return to town soon in any event to replenish supplies and to send a telegram to the ranch to let their mother and Audra know that they had been unsuccessful so far. He had taken the time before they left Shasta to send one telling them that he and Nick would probably be out of touch for several weeks, possibly as long as a month. He had hoped when they left that some of the Barkley luck would make an appearance, and they would find Heath right off the bat, but it wasn’t to be.

They had seen some beautiful country, most of it untouched, and some of it ravaged by the hydraulic mines. Jarrod had never been at an actual hydraulic site, and he had been appalled at the destruction. His father would have never approved of the method of gold extraction, despite the ability to find deposits not open to regular placer mining. He made a mental note to refuse the several proposals that were on his desk seeking to gain Barkley participation in such ventures. In any event they had covered a lot of ground, and aside from the large mines, seen few people. Once the hydraulic mines had moved in closer to the headwaters the small placer claims down stream on the Trinity had disappeared, overwhelmed by the debris flowing down the river. There were however a few small ranchers, and a few small hard rock mines scattered among the hills. They had been met with pleasure at the former, and suspicion at the latter. The ranchers were happy to get information about what was happening out in the world, and the miners were suspicious of anyone who looked to be a possible threat. Nick and Jarrod had found out that it was commonly held that if you moved any gold, you did it quietly and with as many guards as possible. There was a gang operating in the area that seemed to be able to elude any effort to capture them. The unspoken part of that was that the local law seemed to be little inclined to catch them in any event, or even make token efforts to appear to be tracking them. Heath’s miner had obviously been aware of this.

It was on the 22 day of their search that they used the last of their coffee, and the food sack was becoming very thin. There was a chance that they could come upon a ranch and resupply, but there was a better chance that they would not. They were near one of the rough roads that led out to one of the hydraulic mines, and could follow it back into town with some ease. There would be no coffee, but the food should last the two days it would take them to get back to town. Jarrod could see that Nick didn’t want to go, but he was a practical man, and he knew they had to have supplies. They set out that morning headed east on the road, moving along faster than they had been in the last three weeks of working the canyons. Nick was quiet, unnaturally so. Jarrod wanted to say something to encourage his brother, but he found no words that didn’t sound hollow. What assurances could he give? They could come back out resupplied, but there was no guarantee that they would find Heath. For that matter the younger man could have already returned to Shasta and moved on. They would not know until they got there. What they would do in that event Jarrod didn’t know.

“How long would this go on?” Was the question that was going through Nick’s brain as they rode down the rough track. It had been three weeks since they left Shasta, and they had covered a lot of ground. As far as Nick was concerned, they just needed to resupply and get back to it. Of course he had to consider his brother, his family and the ranch, but his heart said he needed to find Heath. If Jarrod wanted to get back to his work, fine, Nick would search alone. His family would be fine. Their mother was more than capable of keeping herself and Audra safe and sound. As for the ranch, for the first time since his father had died, Nick almost didn’t care. He knew it was in good hands with Duke, and he knew that if there were decisions to be made outside the scope of Duke’s authority, their mother could take care of it. In times past Nick had been uncomfortable at the idea of leaving the ranch in the hands of another for any length of time, despite his trust in Duke but now he found that there was something more important. Or rather he had found what had always been important, family, was now applied to another. He simply had never had to deal with a part of his family leaving before, so it had never come down to them or the ranch. He had made his choice in his heart.

He had used the time as they rode to search his heart about Maria. He had come to a decision. He had gone too quickly into the engagement, drawn by the beauty and spirit of the young woman, and not considering other factors. He found it disturbing that she allowed her father so much say in her life, even in a decision as personal as marriage. It didn’t bode well for their future together if she was going to side with her father rather than Nick. He had been spoiled he guessed by his parents marriage. His mother had defied her parents to marry Tom Barkley, and had never wavered in her loyalty to him. Even the revelation of his infidelity with Heath’s mother had not broken her devotion to him. Right or wrong, she stood by him, and always would. Nick wanted that for himself, and he had come to realize that Maria could not give it to him. She was as she had been raised to be. Her father’s was the voice she heard above all others, and she would be guided by it, even at the expense of her fiancé’s wishes.

To be fair, Nick didn’t blame her. He knew that to a man raised in the same atmosphere as she, such things would be expected, maybe even applauded. Don Garcia was certainly being generous in his offering of his ranches for Nick to take over, but the gift came at a high price. Nick had seen himself as bringing his wife to the Barkley ranch, and living there. Raising a family. He certainly would have been happy to oversee the operations at the Garcia ranches, but not at the expense of the Barkley holdings. He had even started thinking that with Heath there on the ranch, he could afford to take some time away, maybe take his wife to see those places that Jarrod spoke of back east, or even in Europe, though he couldn’t see himself as some fancy tourist at some museum, or library, like Jarrod had done. It was ironic to him that it was Heath’s presence that he had seen as allowing him the freedom to offer his wife the opportunity to travel and Heath’s same presence that had been the breaking point for that marriage.

He had decided that he would insist on an answer from Maria about what her father demanded. If she would agree to marry him regardless of Heath’s presence then all would be well as far as he was concerned. If her father protested she could come to the Barkley home. His mother and sister would lend her presence countenance, and after a time that they could REALLY get to know one another, the marriage would go ahead as planned, without her father’s input. If she could not, would not, go against her father, then Nick would have to break the engagement. The thought didn’t cause as much pain as he thought it would.

He shook off his thoughts as his horse shied at something on the side of the track, and he was forced to rein hard to keep him from running. He had note the tendency before of the horse to shy at anything that was out of the ordinary, a blowing leaf, a bird taking flight, a shadow on the ground, anything could set him off. Nick had almost found himself on the ground the first time the horse had jumped sideways at a butterfly taking flight. Only his long experience as a horseman had allowed him to shift his weight to stay on the horse, though it was not a graceful move. Jarrod, whose horse seemed perfectly behaved, had had a good laugh at Nick’s expense. Nick had roundly cursed the beast, and had made a mental note to be ready. Now, he pulled the horse to a stop and looked to see what had startled him this time. It was a large leafed plant moving in the gentle breeze that moved here near the river. After the stifling heat of the canyons it felt good even though it was still warm. Jarrod pulled up along side him, and smiled.

“Another equine pirouette Brother Nick. I must admit both of your techniques are improving.” He kidded gently. Nick scowled at him.

“Yeah well, at least he has SOME sprit. That plug you’re riding can hardly get out of his own tracks at the end of the day.” Nick said.

“I remind you who picked out these fine examples of horse flesh brother.” Jarrod said.

“Yeah well, the tragedy is that these were the best of the lot.” Nick grumbled. He looked up at the sun. It would soon be setting behind the mountains to the west, and while there would be light for some time, they should think about finding a campsite soon. If they were lucky there would be a small stream somewhere ahead where they could have some clean water for themselves and the horses. The Trinity here was a muddy torrent. It would do in a pinch, but why use it if other water could be found. Later in the year, when the heat was truly on, there would be little option. He looked back at Jarrod. “We need to start looking for a camp. It’s your turn to cook tonight so…” He broke off as the sound of gunfire echoed around them. Both men were instantly off their horses and in cover, guns in hand, reins held in the other. They looked around as another gunshot rang out, then another. The canyon they were in made it difficult to tell where the sound was coming from, but it seemed to originate from in front of them, further up the canyon.

The silence of the canyon was now startling in comparison. Only the sound of the rushing water of the river could be heard. The two brothers looked at each other. The sound of gunfire in such an isolated place was ominous. The fact that the shots were made by a handgun, and not a rifle was even more so. A rifle could have been used for hunting, though three shots were excessive for any but the most inexperienced of hunters. Any such hunter would not be out here. That left other more dangerous reasons for gunfire. Jarrod shifted quietly until he was next to Nick in the brush.

“Didn’t sound too far ahead. Should we go take a look?” He asked. The wise move might be to remain where they were until they were sure that whatever was going on had reached it’s conclusion, but that was not the way they had been raised. If someone was in trouble you helped out. Tom Barkley had never stood aside when a fellow man needed his aide, and his sons were made of the same stuff.

Nick stood cautiously and after a quick look around tied his horse to a downed log. Jarrod followed suit. Nick took his rifle from its sheath, and they started toward the east, staying off the road and moving through the brush as quietly as possible. They had gone about 300 yards when Nick, who was in the lead suddenly stopped. Jarrod looked around his brother’s bulk to see what had made him pause, and saw what had caused his brother to stop. A pair of booted feet protruded from behind a rock. Feet in worn brown boots, attached to legs in tan pants. Jarrod felt the blood drain from his face. Tan pants like Heath wore. He looked at Nick. His brother was looking around, searching the brush for any sign of other people. Evidently satisfied they were alone Nick moved forward. They approached the rock, and Nick hesitated again before he took the final step that would take him around it, but this time Jarrod could see that he was steeling himself against what they might find. Finally Nick clenched his jaw and stepped forward. His sigh of relief told Jarrod the story before he followed. Whomever it was that was lying there wasn’t Heath. Nick started looking around as Jarrod crouched next to the dark haired middle-aged man that lay on the ground. The clothes were those of a cowhand as were the callused hands. Jarrod moved the vest that the man wore to reveal the bloody wound, but his hand stilled as he realized that what he was looking at wasn’t a gunshot wound. This was a knife wound.

“Nick!” He said sharply but quietly, aware that there might be hostile people in the vicinity. His brother turned quickly at the tone, gun coming up. “He wasn’t killed with a gun. This is a knife wound.” Nick looked at him in confusion, then came to look at the wound himself. He scowled. Something was going on, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. The man had been stabbed in the chest. That meant that someone had walked up to him and done it in cold blood, someone he knew. Before Nick could continue that train of thought they heard noise coming from the direction of the road. It sounded like a lot of horses moving, and men calling to each other. The brothers looked at each other. As one they rose and started forward, moving more cautiously.

They had gone about fifty yards when they could see the brush giving way to a clearing. Nick moved around the perimeter, keeping to the heavier brush until they could see clearly into the clearing. What they saw made both men draw a sharp breath. Two men were tied to a tree, an old man that both brothers recognized as the miner who had been in Stockton, and a younger man in the clothing of a cowhand, not unlike those of the man they had found murdered in the brush. They had been gagged. What made them both gasp were the three bodies lying in the clearing. One man, his eyes staring at them in death was only about five feet from where they stood, another lay near the smoldering remains of a fire. They could tell he was dead since one hand lay in the still glowing coals. The stench of burning flesh was beginning to fill the air. But it was the third body that had affected them both. This time there was no possible mistake in who it was. Tan pants, a blue shirt and tan vest. Blond hair, almost the same color as Audra’s over a pale face. Heath lay on his side facing them across the clearing from where they stood. His eyes were closed, and they could see no movement of breathing.

Jarrod made a grab for Nick’s arm just a moment too late. His brother was moving into the clearing with no thought of whoever had done this still being nearby. Jarrod looked quickly around, staying where he was in case he had to cover Nick. At least the men tied to the tree He could sympathize with Nick’s need to know if Heath was dead, but he wasn’t going to lose two brothers if he could help it. As Nick knelt at Heath’ side Jarrod stepped out into the clearing, satisfied that no one else was around. He had just turned his head back to look at Nick when it happened. Nick was reaching for Heath’s shoulder, to turn him on his back when the still form seemed to explode form the ground. Nick was knocked over onto his back, and the younger man was crouched over him with a knife to his throat, and rage burning in ice blue eyes.

Chapter 17

“Heath!” Jarrod yelled in desperation before the knife could strike. He didn’t move, not wanting to startle his brother. The blue eyes turned to him, staring at him as if with no recognition, then they seemed to clear. The blond brows knit together, and a frown of puzzlement came over the younger man’s face. He stared at Jarrod for a moment then slowly turned his head to look at the man he had pinned to the ground. Blue eyes met Hazel. Heath seemed to study Nick’s face for several long seconds before he pulled the knife back. Then he staggered to his feet, the knife still in his hand as he started toward the tree where the others were tied. He didn’t speak to his brothers. As he rose, Jarrod could see that his left side was drenched in blood from just below his rib cage. Nick rolled to his feet, and started after Heath, an angry growl growing in his throat, only to be brought up short by Jarrod’s hand on his arm.

“Nick!” Jarrod said urgently. “He’s hurt, and he didn’t know it was you. Whatever happened here, it wasn’t very nice, and he was just protecting himself. He didn’t even know we were in the area.” He added reasonably. He saw the anger drain out of his brother’s eyes, to be replaced by concern as he looked toward their younger brother. He pulled away from Jarrod and went slowly toward Heath, hands held at his side, and being as non-threatening as he was able. Jarrod started after him, but diverted to the fire where he removed the dead man’s hand from the coals. Heath had reached the tree and was cutting through the ropes that bound the two men to the tree. As their arms were freed both men reached to remove their gags.

“Son you better sit yourself down right now before you fall on your face.” The old miner said, looking up at the pale young man who was putting his knife back in his boot with some difficulty. Huckmeister looked beyond the blond to the dark haired man who had come to a halt a few feet behind Heath. “Can’t say I was expecting you boys, but I’m glad to see you. Think we could use some help. Those Howland bastards done killed, or almost killed, everybody that was worth a damn, and took off with my gold.”

“They ain’t gonna get far with it. You can count on that.” Heath said coldly, and started towards where the road was, staggering slightly as he turned. Nick put himself in his brother’s path, raising his hands in front of him to place them on the slightly smaller man’s shoulders. Heath jerked back, staggering so badly that Jarrod who had come to their side had to grab him to keep him on his feet. Heath jerked away form him to, and staggered back so that he was facing them both. For the first time since they had come he addressed them directly.

“Don’t know why you’re here, but I done told you before” he pointed at Nick, “to keep your hands to yourself. Now get out of my way. Any business you two think you have with me will have to wait. I got somethin’ to do.” He started forward again only to have Nick move into his path again. He stopped, the swaying more pronounced. He was starting to breath heavier, and though Jarrod hadn’t though it possible looked paler than he had when they first arrived. The old miner had moved up to Heath’s other side, a worried look in his eyes.

‘Son, you best let me and your brothers take care of your side before you go stormin’ off. Ain’t gonna do any good at all if you just pass out ten feet down the road” He said reasonably. Heath shook his head, looking from one to the other of the men that surrounded him.

“Ain’t no brother of mine, made that clear. Just trash that blowed up on their doorstep for awhile, and now a cleanin’ wind done carried me back off. Everybody is the better for it, just you wait and see.” Heath muttered disjointedly. Suddenly his eyes rolled up into his head and he started to fall forward. Nick sprung forward and clutched him to his chest. He wasn’t able to take the full weight without dropping to his own knees, but he managed to soften the impact of the fall on his brother. Jarrod was instantly at their side, pulling the blood soaked shirt away from the wound. The bullet had gone through Heath’s side, and come out his back, It seemed to be in a position where nothing vital would be involved, but Jarrod was not a doctor, and could not tell. The blood loss seemed to be sluggish, but he accepted cloths from Huckmeister to put over both the small entrance wound and the larger exit wound. Huckmeister was tearing a shirt from someone’s pack into long strips to use as wrapping, and Jarrod put them around the slim waist to hold the other cloths in place. Nick held his younger brother throughout the process, his focus moving from Jarrod’s hands to Heath’s face. As Jarrod finished Huckmeister appeared again with a bedroll that he lay out near by, and Nick with Jarrod’s help moved their brother to it, almost reluctantly laying him down and covering him with a blanket.

“I done sent Edwards to keep an eye out on the road, case those fellas decide they really wanted us dead. Don’t feel like being taken by surprise twice in the same day.” The old man said, peering over Jarrod’s shoulder at Heath. “You reckon he’s gonna be all right. I gotta say I’ve grown fond of the boy, don’t want to see him end up dead because I trusted the wrong men. Don’t rightly seem fair he should die when his kin has caught up to him.”

“He’s not gonna die!” Nick snapped in a bellow, and then lowered his voice. “He’s not going to die. It takes more than losing a little blood to kill a Barkley, and he’s as much Barkley as I am.” He said it with a confidence that brooked no argument, as if fate and destiny would just have to make up their minds to do it Nick’s way because that was the only choice.

Jarrod looked at the miner. “I take it you were ambushed, and they took the gold, killing these men and the one we found in the brush?” He asked.

Huckmeister nodded. “Ambushed and betrayed. There’s TWO men out there with knife wounds in ‘em from men they called friend. Heath done killed the one that killed those boys, and shot one of the others, but that left the rest of the no good skunks, and those that they signaled to do this.” He waved a hand at the two bodies. “They took all the mules o’course, horses too.” He paused with a frown. “Don’t know what happened to Elspeth. Know they didn’t have her, but she ain’t here now.”

“Elspeth?” Jarrod questioned. “You had a woman along?” It seemed strange, but she could have been the old man’s wife or daughter. It was not unheard of for womenfolk to travel with their men.

The old man laughed and shook his head. “My burro, boy. Elspeth is my burro. She wasn’t having no part of any of them. Gave one of them a good whack with a hoof and ran off. Fool burro is probably halfway back to Shasta by now and just hittin’ her stride.” As if in response to the man’s words a bray came from the bush to the south of them. The burro sounded indignant. Huckmeister let out a whistle, and another bray could be heard. This one sounding almost happy. Moments later the big head of a burro poked out of the bushes and surveyed the men there. She seemed satisfied that the men who had tried to manhandle her were gone, and ambled into the clearing. Huckmeister went and took up her lead rope, patting her on the neck. “There you are old girl. Was wondering where you got off to. You don’t be goin’ off on your own again, there’s mountain lions and bears around here that would see you as dinner on the hoof.” The burro brayed in answer, nodding her head in an almost human fashion. Huckmeister looked at the Barkley’s

“Well at least we got us some supplies and bedrolls. I was afraid she’d go scrapin’ at the pack against some rock or something. Got a temper she does.” He said and started rummaging in the pack. He pulled out another blanket and handed it to Jarrod who spread it over Heath. The old man tied the burro to a sturdy limb and then started putting together another fire, not looking at the man lying dead so close to the remains of the old one. “Might as well stay here for the night, I’ll get a fire going. You boys got horses, I assume, want me to fetch ‘em in?”

Jarrod told the old man where the horses were tied, as reluctant as Nick to leave Heath’s side. Huckmeister headed out in the direction they had come from. Jarrod rose to his feet and went to the side of the body near the fire. He grimaced at the staring eyes of the man. The bodies needed to be moved, if they were going to stay here for the night. He bent and grabbed the feet of the body, dragging it toward the brush. He did the same with the other. He could have wished to move them with more dignity, but he did what he could with the bodies stiffening. He would have asked Nick to help him, but he had seen his brother’s reluctance to leave Heath’s side, and he understood the need.

An hour later Jarrod had managed to pull Nick away from Heath’s side to have some beans and biscuits cooked by Huckmeister. They sat near the fire, and Huckmeister gave them the details of what had happened. He told them about Heath having found the guards in the brush, dead. He spoke of how Heath had told him quietly of the murders, and how they had braced Ed Hastings and his men. How they had thought they had won with the wounding of Hastings and the death of his brother Tom at Heath’s knife. But then the others had come, drawn in by the smoke from the fire. Huckmeister had recognized Wild Bill Howland, patriarch of the Howland clan, even with a kerchief over his face. There was no mistaking the eyes and voice of the man. The other men were probably some of his sons. It had turned out that every man of Huckmeister’s teamsters had been in on it. He had counted on Ed Hastings to choose men of character, not knowing that the man himself had become corrupted. He had been the son of one of Huckmeister’s closest friends, and he had trusted too easily, seeing in the son the character and morals of the father.

Both of the Barkley’s could tell that Huckmeister was deeply troubled by the betrayal of the man he had trusted, and at the deaths of the men that Heath had hired. He told them how Heath had found the men in Redding, cowhands all of them, let off from the local ranches and looking for work to take them through until the hiring season. He spoke of the camaraderie that had gown among the men, and how they had spoken of wives, children and girlfriends back near Redding. He swore that if they should get his money back, that the dependents would have their portion. Of course, given the circumstances, it didn’t seem like it was going to be possible to get the gold. Even when they returned to Shasta, they had no real proof who had taken the gold, or killed the men. You could be sure that none of the Teamsters would be around to be caught.

Huckmeister went out to allow the other man, Edwards to come in and have some food. He had proposed that he Barkley’s get some sleep, having been moving all day, and taking the later shifts at guard. They all agreed that it was unlikely that anyone would return, but it paid to be cautious. Jarrod and Nick rolled out their bedrolls on either side of their sleeping brother, and lay down to sleep. The day had been long and fraught with tension so it was difficult for both to get to sleep, but they slept heavily when they finally got to sleep, Jarrod was the first to be awakened for guard duty, and he spent his time walking to keep awake. When he went back to waken Nick he was surprised to see Heath awake and sitting by the fire, staring into it. He went to crouch at his younger brother’ side and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You should be resting. You lost a lot of blood.” He said quietly, not wanting to wake the others, as Heath had obviously not wanted to do when he rose.

Heath looked around at him, and Jarrod wished that he could see his face clearly in the low firelight. “Done rested all a body needs. Got me some planning to do, and do it best when it’s quiet.” He looked back at the fire.

“May I ask what the planning is for?” He asked, sitting down beside Heath. He didn’t want to wake Nick yet, fearing that Heath would not react well to Nick’s forcefulness. He had known only Nick’s anger, and it would be quite a change for the younger man to grasp that Nick actually wanted him to return home.

Heath looked back at him, and Jarrod again wished for better light as he could not make out his brother’s eyes, and he had learned that to really tell what Heath was feeling you needed to be able to look in his eyes, and even then, he had to allow the formidable shields to drop and reveal his inner thoughts. Heath seemed to study him for a long moment then he spoke. “Why are you here Jarrod? Why is HE,” he nodded back to where Nick lay sleeping, “here?”

“Heath. We want you to come back, to come home.” Jarrod said simply. Before he finished Heath was shaking his head, looking back at the fire.

“Don’t belong there. Never did.” Was all the reply he got.

“You did, you do belong there. You ARE Tom Barkley’s son. You have as much right to anything and everything that any of us have. To think that we would expect you to leave…” he stopped as the blond head shook.

“Don’t make no nevermind who’s son I am or ain’t. It’s just not right is all. My being there hurts everbody, so it don’t make no sense for me to stay. Ain’t no gain to it.”

“There is gain to it!” Jarrod said firmly. “We all gained family, and Heath in this world there is NOTHING that is more value than that. It is something that you hold onto with your last breath, and that you price above money or power. You gained a whole family and we gained another part of Tom Barkley to ride the land that he gave us, to carry his name proudly into the future. And Heath if you have learned nothing of us in the last few months you should have learned that when it comes to family we will fight tooth and nail to keep what is ours, and that includes you Brother Heath.” As Heath turned to look at him the fire flared on some pitch, and Jarrod could see the longing in the pale blue eyes.

“It don’t seem fair..” Heath started

“It wasn’t fair that you made a decision that effects the whole family without consulting us.” Jarrod interrupted. “Your reasons are admirable and I personally am moved at the depth of sacrifice that you are willing to make for this family, but that sacrifice will not be accepted.” He cast a meaningful look in the direction of the sleeping Nick. “By any of us.”

Heath eyes followed his glance, then turned back to Jarrod, searching his eyes. Jarrod, well versed in following a promising line of questioning while it was hot, continued to press his point. “You have to understand something about us Heath, about the Barkleys. We don’t bow to public pressure when we know something is right. Some of the townsmen practically begged father to let up on the railroad, men he had known for over twenty years, friends, but he knew that the railroad was wrong, and he stuck to his guns. There were people who wouldn’t talk to us, people who we had grown up with, whose fortunes were tied to the railroad, and who blamed us for father’s stand. This is no different now Heath. We asked you to stay because it was right. No matter what anyone says, or does, it was right then, and it’s right now, and we want you to be there with us. You talked about the cost being too high for you to stay Brother Heath, well I submit to you that the cost of your leaving is too high for US, and one we will not WILLINGLY pay.”

Heath, who had looked back at the fire as Jarrod spoke, dropped his head down and remained that way for long minutes, Jarrod could almost feel the young man arguing with himself. He was sure now that Heath WANTED to go back. WANTED to be a part of them. The question was could they persuade him that he SHOULD. To give up so much, to act so unselfishly, was the sign of an honorable man, a man like that would be reluctant to return to a situation that he felt would bring harm to those he loved, and Jarrod had no doubt that Heath loved them all. Loved them with a fierceness that was all the more since he had come late to their family. Heath raised his head and looked at Jarrod.

“The things people say, and not just to me. The people who won’t even talk to your mother or Audra because I’m there. Maria’s father. Those people aren’t gonna go away Jarrod, ever.” Heath said intensely. “They got long memories when it comes to somethin’ like this. Do you all really understand what it’s like? It wears on a body year after year. Hearing about it, livin’ with it. I know, and I don’t want it to be the same for you, for all of you.”

“No, they won’t forget, and that’s why you should make the choice to stay. Do you really think that your absence will make those people you speak of forget? They are petty, mean spirited people that we don’t need in our lives in the first place. This…change in all our lives has revealed to us those who are our real friends, and those who only pretended to gain favor. Those people won’t LET us forget this Heath because it makes them feel better about themselves; because if they do they will have no justification in their own minds for the loss of that favor. I can assure you Brother Heath, that even if you are gone those people that abandoned us out of some misplaced moral superiority will not be welcomed back.”

Heath sat looking at Jarrod, caught in his own argument for leaving. If his being gone would not make things better for his family, then ….dared he even consider it? Could he stay on the ranch, stay with the family? He searched Jarrod’s eyes in the firelight, trying to see if the lawyer truly believed the words he said. He wanted to believe it so badly, but could he take the chance?

Jarrod scooted toward Heath, and then reached out and put an arm around Heath’s shoulder. There was a moment of stiffness, as if Heath would shrug off the arm, then he relaxed, leaning into his brother’s side as Jarrod had intended. “Come home Brother Heath, you won’t be sorry and neither will we.” He whispered. He felt a shudder go through the form beside him, perhaps it was a suppressed sob, perhaps t was something else, but in any event it was the only response for a long moment. Finally the blond head nodded once. Jarrod closed his eyes and sent a brief prayer to heaven in thanks for the grace his family had been shown that day.

They sat that way for a long time. Giving and taking comfort in the closeness, then Jarrod stirred. “I have to wake Nick for his stint at guard duty. Do you want me to help you back to your bedroll?” he asked. He didn’t think that now was the time for the two to work out their differences, and he was also sure that Heath should be lying down.

Heath sighed and looked over at Nick. He wasn’t up to dealing with that brother at this time, he barely felt able to handle Jarrod. Then there was the thing that he was going to have to do. The thing that might just make Jarrod change his mind about him coming home. He finally nodded and let Jarrod help him up and to his feet. A steadying hand saw him to his bedroll, and tucked the blankets around him. He smiled briefly at his brother, and closed his eyes. He listened as Jarrod woke Nick, and to the sounds of Nick heading out to guard duty and Jarrod bedding down in his place. He waited, allowing time for Jarrod to fall asleep, and to make sure that Nick was in place. He very quietly threw off the blankets and with one hand on his side rolled to his knees. He had to stop there for several second, letting the tides of pain slowly diminish, but finally he felt he could stagger to his feet. Once there, and steady he moved quietly to the pack that lay near Elspeth, who opened one eye to look at him. Seeing who it was she opened the other eye and stretched her head toward him for a scratch, which he obliged her with. He found his holster and pistol, rolled up in a bundle in the pack, and put it on. He also took several boxes of ammunition. He checked his knives, glad to find that they were where he had left them. He then went to the two horses, and in the dim firelight looked them over. They weren’t the best of horseflesh, but they were serviceable. He ran a hand over their hocks, and went to the head of each. He was sure that the one walleyed one was a shier, dancing around at his own shadow, and the other looked to be a horse that didn’t put too much effort out if you didn’t demand it. he reckoned there were lazy horses just like there were lazy people. He hoped that his brothers hadn’t bought these two. If they had, the seller had seen them comin’ a long way off.

He managed through a series of starting and stopping to get the tired looking horse saddled. By the time he was finished he was covered in sweat, and his breath was coming in gasps that he had trouble keeping quiet. He was not pleased at the time this was taking. If he didn’t get a move on he would have to argue with the others. That just wasn’t part of his plan. He tied an extra bedroll that had been in the pack behind the saddle, and with a last glance around the clearing he led the horse into the brush paralleling the road. He found the body of one of the guards where he had remembered it to be, and picked up the man’s abandoned rifle. He was glad to see that he had remembered correctly and the rifle was the same caliber as his pistol. He moved slowly. Not just because of his wound, but also to keep the noise to a minimum. He emerged onto the rough track almost two hundred yards beyond where Nick would have been standing guard. He then tried to figure out how he was going to mount. His usual athletic leap was not going to work, and he wasn’t even sure if he could lift his left foot enough to get it in the stirrup. His problem was solved by the presence of an old snag that allowed him to climb up and simply step into the saddle like some fine lady mounting a sidesaddle. He smiled slightly at the thought, then with one more look back toward the camp he turned the horse to the east and dug in his heels.

For Nick the hours on guard duty had drug by almost unendingly. He really wasn’t tired, he had gotten enough sleep to keep that from being an issue, but he was bored. He didn’t figure there was really anything to guard against, but as Jarrod had pointed out to him the evening before they couldn’t take a chance with Heath wounded like he was. Now that was an issue, at least as far as Nick was concerned. How the boy had the strength to jump him, and to hold him down was a puzzle to the rancher. He had looked so bad once he had passed out, and Nick had a chance to look at him. His face was pale and the blood soaking his clothes seemed to be more than any man could loose and still be alive much less on the attack. He had seen the light of revenge in those cold blue eyes, and realized that for all the trouble that the two of them had had, for all the upset that had been between them, there had never been true anger and hate in Heath’s eyes when he looked at Nick.

Even though it hadn’t been aimed at him, the look in those eyes had frightened Nick. Not because of the existence of those emotions, he was well aware that he himself had more than enough to go around, but because of the intensity. That intensity was not something that would allow Heath to forgive and forget, even if it wasn’t his own gold. He was going to go after those men. The question was when and, at least for Nick, who would be going with him when he went. It went without saying that the boy was in no condition to do much of anything right now. Well, the boy was about to learn what being Nick Barkley’s brother meant. The first thing was that you didn’t have to do anything alone and the second was that what was done to one Barkley was done to all. When he was well enough the Barkley’s would go together.

Nick had something of a plan. They would find a way to get to one of the hydraulic mines, and buy some more horses. There might even be a doctor on hand at the mine who could take a gander at Heath. Then they would make their way back to Shasta City. Once there Heath could recuperate, then maybe the Barkley men would just see about this local gang of thieves that thought they ran things around there. Nick didn’t care who they were, or who they owned in the local law, there wasn’t anyone he had ever met who could stand up to a group of determined Barkley’s. And if that little scene this afternoon had proven nothing else, it had proven that Heath was all Barkley. Anyone who was willing to take on someone in that condition, and was likely to win at that, had to have Tom Barkley’s blood coursing through his veins full strength.

Nick squinted as the first spear of light from the rising sun found his eyes. He was just starting to turn when he heard someone coming through the brush from the direction of the camp. He drew his gun as a precaution, but put it up when he saw Jarrod come out and look around. As soon as Jarrod turned to approach him he saw the anxious look on his brother’s face. Nick stepped forward to meet him.

“What’s wrong? Is Heath worse?” He asked anxiously, that being the only reason that he could think of for Jarrod’s _expression. Perhaps the boy had gotten a fever, or was bleeding again.

Jarrod shook his head. “I don’t know how Heath is; that’s is the problem. He isn’t here, and one of the horses is gone along with his pistol and some ammunition.” He stated flatly. “He must have snuck out last night after I went to sleep.

Nick could only stare at Jarrod in shock for a moment, then he cursed. “He was unconscious!” He bellowed. “How the hell could he be gone?”

“He was conscious when I came off guard duty, before I woke you up.” Jarrod said. “He had made it to the fire and was sitting there just staring into the flames. He must have been planning this then.”

“He was awake!” Nick bellowed, throwing out his arms. “Well that’s just fine. Maybe someone could have said something about that when he woke me up.”

“I didn’t think that the middle of the night was a great time for you and Heath to settle your differences, Nick. I thought that there would be time for that today. You’ll forgive me if I didn’t know what he was planning.” Jarrod said defensively. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to argue with Nick, they needed to figure out what to do. He put up a hand to stop whatever Nick was going to say. “We can argue about it later Nick. For now we have to figure out what to do.”

Nick started pushing his way through the bush toward the camp. “I know exactly what to do Jarrod.” He said over his shoulder. “I have to go after him. Damn fool boy is gonna get himself killed trying to get those men. Even he ain’t tough enough to take all of them on alone.” Jarrod followed along, keeping well back to make sure he didn’t catch a branch across his face as his brother pushed ahead unmindfully.

“So, you go chasing off after Heath and we do what? Follow along at our leisure and hope for the best? I don’t think so.” He stated as they entered the clearing. Nick turned on him like a big bear. A finger poked him in the chest.

“I am not gonna come this far, find the fool boy, and then let him die for some bunch of gold. You do what you want, but I’m going after him, and I’ll go over the lot of you if I have to.” He said.

Jarrod knocked the hand aside and moved up until he was toe to toe with his brother. “I don’t think you want to try that Brother.” He said coldly. “Now if you would care to discuss this calmly. We can work something out. What we are NOT going to do is go off half-cocked. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” the last words he added with gritted teeth, and punctuated each word with a poke to Nick’s chest with his finger. Hazel eyes burned into his for a moment, then a small smile lifted one side of Nick’s mouth. He threw up his hands.

“All right Pappy. I won’t run off, but we have to get moving. He’s got over three hours on us probably, and he’ll be tracking them as soon as there’s enough light. I…we can’t let him do this alone.”

Jarrod looked into his brother’s eyes, and saw the worry there. He was about to speak when he realized Huckmeister and Edwards were standing nearby. Huckmeister was holding the reins of the one remaining horse. A bag was tied around the saddle horn, and two bedrolls were tied behind the saddle forming a seat. Nick, seeing Jarrod’s attention had been drawn away turned to look at what had done it, and frowned when at what he saw. Huckmeister chuckled.

“You should see your faces!” He said with a slap to his knee. “Never thought I’d see the day that a lawyer was at a loss for words.” He looked from one Barkley to another. “Well, are you boys just gonna stand there and let your little brother have all the fun? The both of you get on the horse and get moving.”

Jarrod blinked at him. “What about you two?” he asked.

Huckmeister shrugged. “We got food and good feet. We’ll head on to the mine. They got some horses we can borrow there. Me and Edwards here will be fine. We done talked it out. Seems best that you two go after that hotheaded brother of yours afore he gets himself into more trouble than he can get out of.”

Jarrod smiled at him, and Nick felt a huge grin forming on his face. He stepped forward and took the reins, No way was he riding behind the saddle. It was after all his horse. Leave it to Heath to choose the steadier of the two, even in the dark of the night. Nick swung up, and put his rifle into the sheath. Then he kicked his left foot out of the stirrup and offered his hand to Jarrod. His brother grabbed his hand and swung up behind him. He looked down at Huckmeister.

“If you get back to Shasta before we do, will you send my mother a telegram telling her what’s happened. I want her to know in case anything happens to us.”

“I’ll do it. You can count on it.” He said and stepped back as Nick reined the horse around and started him toward the road. As the horse and the two men disappeared into the bushes he gave a shake of his head. He hoped they could catch up with their brother before it was too late, but he had a feeling that the boy was gonna find those men first, and all hell was going to break loose. “Lord watch over ya, boys. Lord watch over us all.”

Chapter 18

Heath lay on the rock promontory overlooking the canyon where the group of men was camped. It was near the end of the day, and the rock was in the shade, but the heat of the day was coming out of the rock. It added to the heat of his own body, nearly equaling the heat of the fever that had developed through the day. He had done well enough the day before, and over the night, then again this morning. The riding was not comfortable by any measure, but he had ridden wounded before, when there had been no choice, and he could do it again.

He couldn’t really say why he felt he had to take care of this himself. He knew, without knowing how, that all he had to do was say the word, and his brothers would be at his side, helping him to do what needed to be done. But he hadn’t said that word, had not even consulted with them. He could think of few men that he had ever met that he would rather have with him, but he had not asked them to come. Indeed he had snuck off like some thief, leaving them behind. He felt surprisingly ashamed at that. It was as if he had done them a great wrong. While he was uneasy at that thought, he had not turned back.

For a full day he had tracked them, only stopping when the light became too dim for him to see the tracks. His job was easier since the men had not tried to hide their tracks. Of course seeing as how they had the mules and all of the horses with them, it would have been difficult for them to hide. It didn’t take an expert to follow the tracks. But they had a head start, and had evidently ridden hard on that first night. They had made good time. At first Heath had though that they might be headed straight into Shasta City, but then they had turned off the track, and headed to this canyon. From the old tracks that were around Heath surmised that the gang had used this place before, possible as a gathering point or dispersal point after a raid. He noted that the various tracks seemed to go off in multiple directions in groups of twos and threes, as if the men didn’t want to be seen to come from the same direction at the same time. He supposed that the gang was being discreet in a minor way. Even though they owned the law in Shasta, being excessively blatant about their doings was not in their best interest.

Heath had found the canyon this morning, and had, despite the added aches and misery of the fever, scouted the area. He had noted the possible entrances and exits from the canyon, and had found himself an elevation. One of the first tenets of sniper training, pounded into them from the start, was that you looked for the highest point with the best view of the target area. Often that had been a tree, or a building, or as in this case, a mountainside. The prominent, overhanging rock had been a bonus, the perfect platform for a sniper. The weapon was not what he would have chose, preferring his Mexican made rifle, but it would have to do. He had sighted in the rifle yesterday. He had paused in his tracking when he found himself near a box canyon. The sound would be contained within it, and he could fire the rifle with out anyone hearing the shots. He had taken the time to fire the rifle enough to find out its quirks and the allowances he would have to make.

The air here in the side canyon was still, he would not have to make allowances for windage. His shots would be true. He was confident in his ability to place the shots where he wanted them to be, but the question now was exactly where he wanted them. He could kill, and with the element of surprise he could probably kill several men before they had any hint as to from where he was firing. Of course by that time, he would have moved to his second stand, and would be able to take several more. It was standard practice. He could do it in his sleep. He had done it before. A lone sniper harassing a greater force was one of the most effective forms of breaking the moral of the enemy. It was a brutal, cold-blooded thing for a man to do, and Heath had hated every moment of it. The fact that he was so good at it made it all the worse.

He shook off the thoughts of what had gone before. While he wanted revenge for the men that had died, men who he had hired, it was not for him to make the decision of who lived and who died. He was here for justice, not vengeance. He would not kill if he didn’t have to. If nothing else, his skill allowed him that. The men below were sitting around three fires, eating their meal and passing several bottles of whiskey. They made perfect targets against the gray early twilight of the canyon. Heath drew in a breath, and as his body stilled he focused on his first target. As soon as he pulled the trigger he shifted his aim and pulled it again, and again. He didn’t even have to look, he knew where his bullets had gone, two shoulders, and a thigh. As he struggled to his feet to move to his next stand, he could hear the screaming of the third man, and suspected he had hit the thighbone. It was a horrific wound, and would probably cost the man his leg. He tried not to think of that as he made his way through the brush.

A few bullets had been fired, at random places he thought, and now he could hear the men below yelling back and forth. They had scattered as soon as the shock had passed, dragging the wounded with them, into the brush around the clearing. Heath settled into his next stand, and focused on his next objective. What he was doing would be useless if the men just saddled up and rode out. Therefore his next target was the man who was watching the horses and mules that were tied on a line strung between the trees. Heath had paid a visit to that line earlier, ghosting among the brush as he had learned, and making a few adjustments to how the line was tied off. The guard was inattentive, a young man, barely in his twenties it looked to Heath. He found himself wondering for a moment at the chasm of experience that separated him from that seemingly callow young man. They could have been no more than four years apart, and yet Heath felt as if he was an old man in comparison.

He had heard his mother once tell Aunt Rachel that she most bitterly regretted that he had never had the chance to be a child. He had gone from a toddler to being a breadwinner for the family, gone down into the mines to set charges. He had never really minded it then, liking the feeling of knowing that he helped to keep them all in food and the necessities of life. Not that he hadn’t found time to do the things that boys did, but his ‘play’ was always with a purpose. If he played at tracking an animal, it was to better his talents at hunting for food. If he went out into the woods to play at being a mountain man, it was to find the herbs and food plants that Aunt Hannah showed him how to recognize. If he pretended that he was a rich rancher, caring for his herd of fine saddle horses, he was learning to take care of, and understand, horses in the livery to earn more money for the family. Then he had gone to the army, and his childhood, such as it had been had ended, what innocence of mind that he had managed to retain had been torn to shreds on the battle field, and afterwards…..He couldn’t even think of that now, it made his hands tremble, ruining his aim.

He could see the young man, crouched behind a tree, frantically searching the sides of the canyon looking for where the bullets were coming from. He should have been watching the stock, making sure they were secure. The boy’s lack of experience was going to be in Heath’s favor. He didn’t even have to shoot another man, all he had to do was aim at the block of wood he had tied to the end of the rope, wedging it in the crook of the tree to keep it in place for the time he needed. He squeezed the trigger, and could see the branch shatter. As it did the rope dropped to the ground. He then fired two shots into the dirt at the feet of the horses, and was gratified to see them start to bolt. As they moved the tie rope became useless, and third shot encouraged them on. There were more yells as the horses and mules stampeded through the camp. Men came out of cover to try to stop the horses only to dive into the bush again as Heath placed two shots at the feet of the foremost. He moved again, one hand on his side, to try to still the ache there. His fever was not relenting. He was finding it hard to concentrate, and his body ached at the joints. Several bullets found his last position, and he knew the men had finally gotten to watching for the muzzle flash of his rifle. It would be harder now, but as night progressed, he was in the better position then they were since he could move at will, while they were pinned down. There would be a short time after the sun had set that it would be too dark for him to aim effectively, but the full moon would be rising not long after, and once again he would be in control. They would recognize that fact, and come out looking for him he knew, and so he needed to get to his hidey-hole and wait.

He had found the shallow old mine shaft by chance, as he was scouting the area. It was old, possibly left over from the first gold rush over twenty-five years ago. It was a short test shaft, obviously yielding nothing of interest. A large boulder shielded one side and the brush had grown up to cover the narrow opening. It was almost impossible to see in the full daylight. At night, with no moon, it might as not be there at all. Heath had made sure that there were no current homesteaders. He didn’t need some cougar eying him for dinner, or a rattlesnake taking exception to the company. Luckily there was nothing to deal with, though there were old signs that something, most likely a bear, had used it as a den. He had left his horse hobbled on the other side of the hill, in some grass near a small stream. The horse could reach the water or the feed, and would be fine until the next morning on it’s own. He had left his saddle there, but had brought his bedroll and the bag of supplies with him, stashing it here in the shaft.

He sat down on his blankets, leaning back against the wall of the shaft. The cold of the rock felt good on his heated body, and he leaned his head back too. Wishing he could spare the water to bathe his face. He couldn’t waste the water right now however. He could always go back to the stream where his horse was tied, but that would take time he didn’t want to use. He closed his eyes. He would have about an hour before the moon came up. If he figured right, the men would be scouring the canyon looking for him, that and chasing what horses or mules they could find. He didn’t figure that was going to work out well for them, since the horses had been skittish from the noise of the shots, and from the direct bullets fired at their hooves. They were well out of the canyon by now, and might not stop soon. Heath loved horses, but he would be the first to admit that they tended to get flighty when they were in a group. Of course the same could be said for most men too.

Once the moon rose he would go to the next step. He would make sure that the night would not be kind to the gang, not allowing them rest or comfort. He had taken time to sleep some this afternoon, though it hadn’t been easy in the heat, so he wasn’t tired, and he would be able to go through the night. Tomorrow, while the men below stewed in the heat he would see if they were willing to deal. He suspected that reasonableness was not in their makeup. That meant he was going to have to go to his back up plan. They would want to know what he wanted.

What he really wanted was to be able to take them all in to the law, and not their bought and paid for badge in Shasta. But he was one man, and there were at ten of them, though they had three wounded now, four if you counted Hastings. That still left six men to deal with, and he couldn’t have done that when he was well, much less feeling poorly like he was. Well, there was an argument for having asked his brothers along, he mused, though he suspected that they would not have allowed him to come along. They didn’t understand, possibly couldn’t, why it had to be him that did this. He had to get the gold back, and he had to make every effort to make sure that those that killed his men, men he had hired, paid for their crime. Tom Hastings had paid for his killings with his life. His brother was going to pay as well. Then there was the man or men who had shot the two men in the camp. He or they would also be brought to justice. As far as Heath was concerned, all were guilty by association, but he had to realistic about his abilities to handle the prisoners. Three or four was his limit, at least in this condition.

Then there was the gold. He would have to do something about that, since there was no way he was going to be able to take it with him along with the prisoners. That was where his hidey-hole came in again he figured. He would get the men he wanted, then drive off the rest. Once he was sure they were gone, he would secure the ones remaining and then move the gold into this small shaft. It would be miserable work; hot, and with his side paining him like it was, slow. He would have to be careful to leave no sign of what he had done, or it wouldn’t be there when he got back.

He moved a little, trying to ease his side. It was a constant, gnawing pain. When he last looked at it, this morning, it had showed no sign of infection on the side he could see, but he didn’t know what was with the back. He had cleaned it with some cool water, doing the best he could, then bound it back up. He settled back against the wall of the shaft and tried to keep his mind away from the pull of the fever. He didn’t want to end up sleeping the night through. As a way of staying awake he turned his mind to what his brother’s were doing right now.

He imagined they weren’t any too happy with him about now. Especially Nick. Heath wished he could have had a chance to talk to Nick, though usually they didn’t talk much when it came down to it. But somewhere in the fog of the day before yesterday, he somehow had an impression of being cradled against a firm chest, and cared for with rough but careful hands, and spoken to with concern. For some reason he thought that chest and those hands, that voice had been Nick’s. He smiled a little at the thought. He had waited so long for Nick to come around. All he had really wanted had been tolerance, he had never expected anything beyond that. The thought that there might be more….it made his heart pound with anticipation for his return to the ranch. He believed that Jarrod had been telling him the truth last night when he said that everyone wanted him to come back, including Nick.

Of course Jarrod himself might not be too happy with him if he was to tell him that it had been their talk at the fire that had set his mind on doing what he was doing. He had been planning since he had first come to after being shot and realized that two more of his men were dead, Huckmeister and Edwards were tied to a tree, and he himself was lying in the dirt bleeding. The last had been of no great nevermind, for himself he wanted nothing. If he wasn’t good enough to protect himself that was one thing, but there were others involved. As Jarrod had spoken to him of coming back to the ranch, of being a Barkley once again, he had realized that he couldn’t wait for others to help him. He had to be a Barkley. He had to do what was right in his own mind, and not let anyone tell him different, even his brothers. So, instead of arguing with them, he had chosen his course and set out. He hoped that Jarrod would understand that.

Thinking of his brothers and what it meant to be a family, his mind naturally turned to the woman that waited back at the ranch. Victoria Barkley was a puzzle to Heath, even after the months he had spent there. She was his father’s wife. The woman his father and his mother had betrayed with their actions, even if his mother hadn’t known that Tom Barkley was married. But even with this being so, she had been nothing but gracious to him. She had opened her home to him, had treated him as she had her own children, had worried about his clothes, and if he ate enough. It was beyond him that anyone could be so……he didn’t know the word for it. He had never known that such a person could be. Somehow though, he felt that SHE would understand what drove him, maybe better than his brothers would. She would not approve of him doing it wounded, and might have expected him to ask his brother’s for help, but she would understand why he did it.

He rolled his head toward the entrance to the small shaft, and could see the shadow of the bushes outside against the rock. The moon had risen. It was time to go back to his plan.

Chapter 19

Jarrod leaned back wearily against a tree trunk. They had stopped here just over an hour earlier, when it had become too dark for Nick to continue tracking the gang. Jarrod was sure that if the moon had risen immediately that Nick would have insisted that they keep going. Instead, with the lag between sunset and moonrise they had stopped and made their small camp. They had left the track earlier that day. For the last day and a half they had followed the wagon road, headed to the east. It was of no great surprise. Nick had managed to find some tracks of Heath’s horse, nearly lost among the tracks to the thieves and the pack mules. It seemed their brother was wary, and took precautions that his own passage would not be noticed if anyone should look. They had found no sign of where he had camped the night before, and only occasionally did Nick find any sign that he had passed before them. It had given both the older Barkley’s an interesting insight to their younger brother’s character.

For Jarrod the last day and a half had been long hours of riding, broken by all to few hours of sleep the evening before. Nick had been restless, and had shown no sign of settling down. They had traded off using the saddle, but it hadn’t been comfortable for either man. Jarrod, who was not used to extended time in the saddle, even after the three weeks searching, had the worst of it. He had come to miss Rufus, the lazy horse that Nick had bought. He had named it after an exceptionally lazy hound they had as children. Even a day of forcing the horse to work would have been easier than what they had gone through. That was one reason that once they had set up camp he had elected to stay here while Nick looked around. He understood Nick’s frustration and need to work it off. He just didn’t have the energy to do the same for himself.

He had not really expected it would take this long to find Heath. Jarrod had seen the wound in the younger man’s side. It had done relatively little damage, but he knew it had been painful, and he suspected that by now Heath would be even more miserable than when he had first been shot. The riding could not be helping the wound. He hoped his brother was taking care of himself. If the wound got infected, there was no doctor out here to help. Jarrod leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

They didn’t know why the gang had turned off the road. Another day at the pace they were moving and they would have been back Shasta City, but instead they had turned off. Nick had speculated that they had some sort of hide out somewhere out here where they could regroup or even keep fresh horses. It could be a ranch, or even something as simple as a place with good water and feed for the horses that was out of the way of the road and not likely to be found. They had decided to make a cold camp tonight in case the gang was close by, not wanting to tip them off with the light or smoke. That was one reason that Nick was out stalking the brush. He wanted to be sure that the gang was not close by. Jarrod was almost too tired to care. Jarrod was just nodding off when the silence of the night was shattered by his brother’s voice. He was surprised to see that the moon had risen while he mused.

“Jarrod! Come on Pappy get up off your butt. We got a brother to find.” He said. Jarrod opened his eyes to see Nick leading a horse into the small clearing they were using for a camp. Even without a fire he recognized Rufus. He could only stare in amazement as Nick tied the horse next to their one horse and threw a set of improvised hobbles on the ground. Nick gave him a huge grin. “The boy’s out there somewhere Jarrod. I can feel it. We just have to figure out where without getting in his way. I think his tracks are leading up the hill…” Just as Nick spoke a rifle shot could be heard faintly echoing through the canyon they were in.

Jarrod raised an eyebrow and gave Nick a small smile. “I believe that has just been made a little bit easier Brother Nick.” He said. Nick grinned back at him He went to the horse and pulled his rifle out of the sheath. He unslung Jarrod’s rifle from where it hung from the saddle horn, and handed it to his older brother as he stood and came to Nick’s side. Jarrod checked the load, and settled his holster on his thigh more comfortably. “Ready when you are.” He said. Nick nodded and started out toward where Jarrod assumed the tracks were.

It took them nearly forty minutes to get to the top of the hill. They heard three more rifle shots in that time, and a fusillade of pistol shots. Both Barkleys wondered exactly what was going on. From what Huckmeister had said there should have been ten or possibly even more men in the gang. Heath was alone, and it seemed ludicrous that one man could hold a group hostage. But there didn’t seem to be any other explanation though. If the gang was firing on Heath, they certainly had the firepower to root him out of almost any position. The brothers followed a game path down the hill, careful to stay to the shadows so as not to reveal themselves to the various gunmen. As they started down the path another rifle shot echoed through the canyon, the sharp crack almost deafening in the confined space. They couldn’t tell exactly where the shot had come from, but the answering shots from down below showed them that they were indeed witness to the seemingly impossible. Heath had virtually ‘treed’ the gang.

They came to a promontory of rock that hung out over the canyon, and crawled out to see what they could in the silver light of the moon. The rock gave them a commanding view of the canyon floor. They could see that there was another small stream here, and there was a good-sized clearing where what appeared to be the remains of several fires glowed faintly. As they watched several shadowy form moved from one place to another, and another rifle shot cracked. One of the shadows fell and a yell of pain could be heard. Jarrod had by mere chance been looking to the right and had seen the muzzle flash of a rifle. It appeared to be on the same level that they were on the canyon wall. He grabbed Nick’s arm and pointed in the direction. Nick looked, and nodded. Both men were forced to duck when what appeared to be a random pistol shot from below struck a rock near them and caromed into the night. Several other shots were also loosed, but as far as they could tell there was nothing that went near what they assumed to be Heath’s position. Obviously the men below had not seen the flash. They started making their way around the edge of the canyon, using the faint game paths that swerved up and down the hill. Obviously deer and other animals traveled the canyon, moving between the streams and browsing in the brush. They had moved about halfway to their target when they heard a voice call out from below.

“You men out there. We don’t know who you think you’re dealin’ with, but you made a bad mistake here. Now you done hit a few of us, reckon you know that, but we’re willin’ to let bygones be bygones, and call it all a mistake. If you leave now, we won’t be chasin’ you. You got my word on that.” There was a pause, and Nick and Jarrod assumed that Heath wasn’t going to answer, and then they heard his voice. They couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and knew that those below wouldn’t be able to either.

“Seems to me a man who’d shoot down two men in cold blood, and allow two others to be killed in the same way ain’t exactly one who’s word is worth much.” Was the reply. The older Barkley brothers exchanged looks at the sound of Heath’s voice. It didn’t seem to be as strong as they were used to and it seemed strained. Due to the acoustics of the canyon Heath didn’t really need to raise his voice much, maybe that was it. Jarrod and Nick kept moving toward where Jarrod had seen the muzzle flash. They didn’t want to startle Heath but they had to move quietly. Both hoped their brother was not in the shoot first and ask questions afterwards mood.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. We’re just a group of hunters. We was out for bear, and enjoyin’ ourselves when you come upon us and started shootin’ with no warning. That ain’t too neighborly.” Came the voice from below.

“And I reckon you boys always just happen to bring along pack mules loaded with gold along with you while you’re hunting.” Heath observed. It sounded as if they were getting nearer. His voice had a sense of direction to it now.

“Seems you got somethin’ on your mind partner” came the voice from below after a pause. No doubt they hadn’t counted on anyone knowing about the gold. “Why don’t you tell us what you want?” Jarrod noted that they didn’t bother to deny the presence of the gold.

“I want the men that did the killing. Ed Hastings and whoever killed the men at the camp. I want the gold left where it is, and I want the rest of you to start walking out of this canyon and don’t look back. So far the shots have been to wound, that can change real quick.”

“Seems you’re asking a whole lot, friend.” Said the voice below. “Looks like you get everything you want, and all we get is a long walk back to town. That ain’t the way I work.”

“First off, I ain’t your friend. I’m the man that’s gonna kill you if you don’t do what I say. As to what you want, I really don’t care. Maybe you should have thought on that before you started killin’ people that had done you no harm and stealin’ what ain’t yours.” There was a longer pause from below.

“Who are you?”

“You don’t need to know that. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Everyone will be the happier if we just keep it that way.” Jarrod and Nick could hear the faint sound of voices speaking down below, but could not make out the words. The gang was discussing the ultimatum.

“Seems to me that you’re all alone up there, bucko. There’s a lot of us, and you got to sleep sometime. We can just wait you out or we’ll find you when it gets light. We don’t got to deal.”

“You may be right about that..” Heath started to say, when Nick suddenly spoke up.

“Then again you may not be. You might want to be rethinking that deal.” He said. Jarrod rolled his eyes at Nick’s impulsiveness, but he might have done the same himself if Nick hadn’t done it first. It had the double benefit of making those men below aware that Heath was not alone, and let Heath know they were there. There was silence both from below and in front of them. Evidently, the men below were discussing this new development. They had assumed that Heath was alone, and were prepared to try to wait him out, but now that there was evidence of more than one person holding them hostage here in the canyon, they had something to think about. The response from their brother was more immediate.

From the bushes behind them came a low voice.

“I’ll thank you two to put down your rifles and pistols and step back from them. If you don’t want a hole in ya, I’d do it real careful.” They could clearly hear the click of a hammer being drawn back. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Jarrod a rifle barrel shining in the moonlight, but Heath was out.

“Heath, it’s us, Nick and Jarrod. We’ve come to help you.” He said in the same soft voice. He was sure that if the men below were to hear them, they would start firing.

“Jarrod?” the voice asked. The rifle barrel didn’t waver. “Step outta the shadow into the moonlight and let me see ya.” As Nick started to move the barrel shifted toward him. “JUST him.” The voice said and the barrel shifted back to cover the lawyer. He stepped forward into the full light of the moon. There was silence for a moment, the rifle barrel staying steady on his chest. Finally Heath spoke again.

“Well, you look sure enough like Jarrod, and I reckon that if the other one of ya was to step forward he’d look like Nick.” There was the sound of a humorless laugh. “Ain’t it strange what a man’s mind can come up with when he’s fevered.” The last was murmured almost to himself. The rifle barrel waved toward the path. “You all hallucinations can just be movin’ on. I ain’t got time for ya.” The barrel started to disappear into the bushes, but before it was gone Nick stepped forward and spoke.

“We aren’t no hallucinations! We’re really here. We came after you to help get those men down below and get the gold back.” He stopped his forward progress when the rifle barrel swung back to point at his chest. “Put down that damn rifle and come out here where we can see you and we’ll prove we’re real.” There was no answer, and the rifle stayed steady on Nick. He was getting mighty tired of having guns and knives pointed his way. The fact that on two instances it was his younger brother doing the pointing didn’t make it any better.

To Heath, standing in the shadowed brush, looking out at the two figures in the moonlight was like looking at two ghosts. Only he knew that Nick and Jarrod weren’t dead. At least he didn’t think they were. Things were getting a might fuzzy. He figured his fever was burning along right well now, and he really wasn’t all that sure exactly what was what. He had managed to stay focused enough to continue to keep the men below corralled, but it was only a matter of time, as they had pointed out until he was unable to continue. He could retreat to his hidey-hole, but that wouldn’t get the job done. When the sound of Nick’s voice had overridden his just a while ago, he had known that he had gone over the edge. Why would Nick be here, weighing in on his side? Nick hated him. He looked again at the specters that looked so much like his older brothers.

“Don’t reckon you need to see me, seeing as how I’m the one with the hallucinations. Sure wish you was real though. I could use the help. At least Jarrod would help. Don’t think Nick would.” He observed to them, seeing no harm in it, it was nice to have company. For so long in his life he had done everything alone. He didn’t really notice the two men exchanging glances.

“Why do you think that we’re hallucinations Brother Heath?” Jarrod asked. He was deeply worried, not only at Heath’s statement about his fever, but also the way he seemed to be rambling to himself. It was bad enough that they were in a tense situation. But if Heath was seriously ill that made it worse, and even more so still was the fact that they were on the business end of a rifle in the hands of a man that didn’t think they existed.

“Left you back at the camp, two days gone now. ‘Sides why would you come after me? It ain’t your job. Ain’t your responsibility. Ya two are just wishful thinking on my part ya see, from not wantin’ to be alone no more. You’ll go away soon enough.”

The speech did not make Jarrod feel better. “But we DID come after you Brother Heath. Because you are our brother and what’s important to you, is important to us. That is how family works. We followed the tracks like you did, and they led us here.” He hoped that Heath was not too far-gone to understand the logic of that statement, and the truth of it.

“See that’s how I know you’re not real. Jarrod might come, he’s that way, and you sure talk like him, but Nick, he hates me, wishes I was dead. The rest, they all forced me down his throat like bad tastin’ medicine. Wouldn’t lift a finger to put me out was I on fire. So ya see, you ain’t real.” Heath felt slightly silly arguing with a mirage, but the persistent ghosts would not leave. He rubbed his forehead off on his sleeve keeping the rifle steady. Though when he thought of it, why should he keep a rifle on hallucinations? Wasn’t as if they could do anything. He was shaken from his musings when the one that looked like Nick stepped forward until the rifle barrel seemed to be against his chest. He was even more startled when the hallucination grabbed the rifle barrel and pulled it so that it pointed directly at his heart.

“If you think that I hate you, that I want you dead, then you pull that trigger. I admit that I haven’t been welcoming, or even civil most of the time.” Nick’s voice was filled with self-disgust. “I may have wanted you gone, or that you never had come, but I never wanted you dead. I’ve had time to think, this last month, and I was wrong. Wrong about you, wrong about my..our father, wrong about my attitude. You’re family. If you’d give me another chance, I promise that it’ll be better. Maybe we……can be friends as well as brothers. But you have to make the decision. I’m here. Jarrod’s here. We aren’t just hallucinations. We’re here to help you. If you’ll just let us.”

Heath listened to the words with amazement. He had never even imagined that he would ever hear such words coming from Nick’s mouth. Not even in a fever would he even consider that there was the barest possibility. But here was a…..he didn’t know what it was, standing before him, feeling for all the world as if it were there, and talking in words that he had longed to hear. Evidently in his shock he waited too long to reply, because the hand holding the rifle simply jerked it out of his hands.

“Enough of this! Get out here, and let’s go down and get those sons of bitches, and get back to the ranch. We got work to do. The cattle ain’t takin’ care of themselves you know.” Nick growled. He was tired of pussyfooting around. He wanted to get this over with and get things back to normal. “Get out here boy, now!

For Heath it was like a sudden splash of cold water, clearing his blurry mind. This was not hallucination. This was Nick. Nick, saying he wanted another chance, to be friends, to be brothers. Who didn’t hate him, didn’t want him dead. Who wanted him to come home. Heath realized that both of what he had considered apparitions of his fever were really his brothers. He stepped forward out of the brush, coming face to face with Nick. His older brother reached out slowly and put a hand on the back of Heath’s neck, shaking him gently by the hold. A smile crossed the moonlit features.

“’Bout time you quit hiding in the bushes, boy. Now we got some work to do before you pass out.” The heat he could feel from Heath’s skin shocked Nick. The younger man was burning up from within. He looked over his shoulder at Jarrod. “Give me that canteen will you Jarrod. Little brother here is hot enough to catch the bushes on fire. Maybe some water will help.” Jarrod handed Nick the canteen, and Nick uncapped it and handed it to Heath who drank greedily. Once his thirst was slacked for now he recapped the canteen and handed it back to Nick. He looked from one brother to the other.

‘You all are really gonna help me bring them boys in?” he asked. At Nick’s nod he felt a smile lifting the corner of his mouth. They were really going to do this. “Reckon we better get to it then, won’t get done if we stand around jawin’” He bent and grabbed his rifle out of Nick’s hand and started down the path in the direction they had come from, not waiting to see if they would follow. Somehow, something inside said that they would, said that from now on they would always be there for him, watching his back. It was going to take some getting used to, but he figured he could do it if he put his mind to it. He found himself grinning as he led his brothers down the path.

Several hours later Jarrod was lying on the ground, just over forty feet from the clearing where the gang of men were holed up. His rifle was leveled over a small fallen tree, aimed toward where he had last seen a man moving. The moon had set behind the mountains, and it was much darker than it had been, but the Barkley brothers had used the last of the light to their advantage while they had it, and now were using the darkness to equal advantage. He knew that to his right about twenty feet Nick was in a similar position, just as Heath was to his left.

Heath had led them back to a small cave that he told them was a test shaft from a miner; probably back in the 1850’s. Both Nick and Jarrod had been surprised at the hidden place Heath had found and realized that their brother could have retreated here if he had to, and probably escaped any detection by the men below. Maybe he hadn’t needed as much help as they had thought. They had crawled inside, and Heath had allowed Jarrod to look at his wound in the light of a match held by Nick. The front looked all right, but the exit wound was showing signs of infection. It took both Jarrod and Nick to convince their brother to let them build a small smokeless fire and take care of the wound then and there. In the end he only agreed after convincing Nick to go out and send a few rounds into the clearing to make sure that the men below didn’t get any ideas about making forays out into the brush. Nick agreed and went out to collect some dry wood and survey the situation. Indeed, the men below were moving around, possibly in preparation to move up into the brush. A few shots had them diving back into the cover.

After Jarrod tended the wound, Heath agreed to stay lying down on his blanket, his head pillowed on his arms. They worked out a plan on how they would corral the men below, and take them all into the law. They talked through all the possibilities, trying to plan for any eventuality. Finally they had a plan set, and Jarrod reached out and touched Nick’s arm, as he was about to speak. He nodded his head at their younger brother. Nick looked at Heath and noticed that the sky blue eyes had closed, and that he was breathing slowly and evenly. He had fallen asleep. Nick jerked his head toward the opening of the shaft and they exited quietly.

“We got about two hours before the moon is down enough to make our move. I say we let him sleep. It might help with the fever, and he needs what rest he can get.” Nick said. Jarrod nodded in agreement. It made good sense. There was no reason for Heath to be awake, and Nick was right that he needed the rest.

“I’ll take the first watch, to make sure they don’t get any ideas down below. Why don’t you go in and stay with Heath. I think one of us should be with him when he wakes, so that he doesn’t get confused and mistake us for hallucinations again.” Nick agreed, and Jarrod took his rifle and went to a position that Heath had described that allowed a good view of the canyon floor. He had to fire twice to discourage movement from below. He stayed out for an hour, and then Nick came out and traded places with him. Heath continued to sleep. When it became time to enact their plans, Jarrod gently woke his brother. Heath blinked at him in puzzlement for a moment, but then Jarrod saw the memory fill his eyes.

“Boy Howdy. I was thinking that I had been dreaming the whole thing. Guess I ain’t as sick as I thought I was.” He observed.

Jarrod smiled at him, and gently patted his back, then helped him to his feet. “We are indeed real Brother Heath, and ready to help you bring the men below to justice. It’s about time to put our plan into action. Are you feeling up to it? Nick and I can take care of this if you want to stay here and rest/” Heath was shaking his head before Jarrod even finished.

“I started this, and I’m gonna finish it.” He declared. He picked up his rifle and started toward the opening then stopped and looked back at Jarrod who had knelt to put out the small fire. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me, Jarrod, you and Nick comin’ along to help. Can’t say that I ever had anyone who would take on my responsibilities like this afor.”

Jarrod finished snuffing the small flame and stepped up to his brother’s side as they moved out of the cave. He put his hand on Heath’ s shoulder. “As has been said before, what matters to you matters to us. That is something you can count on from here on out. That’s what family means.”

“So I’m getting to know/” Heath said, a small smile quirking his lips on one side. He looked at the moon, gauging the time of the night and how long they had. “We best get to it. We gotta be in position before the moon drops behind the mountain. We only got a bout a half hour. Where’s Nick?”

Jarrod pointed out the direction that Nick had taken, and followed Heath as they went to get their brother. Once they found Nick lying on the overhanging rock where they had first observed the canyon, they headed downward until they were near the clearing. They then split up and went their separate ways. Thus it was that Jarrod found himself laying in wait for the signal that would start the next part of the plan. He heard the sound of a night bird from his left, and prepared himself for what was to come.

“We’re tired of waitin’ on you to make up your minds. If you won’t give up- those that did the killin’, then you’re all goin’ to jail. You men just move into the clearing and put your weapons on the ground. One of you can relight one of the fires.”

There was a brief round of humorless laughter from the bushes on the other side of the clearing where the men were. “Do you think we’re stupid? We come out and put down out guns and light a fire so we’re backlit for ya. I say we just stay like we are until it’s light and then we see who puts down their guns. There can’t be that many of ya.”

“You got one chance and five minutes to make your choice.” Heath’s voice rang out again. Jarrod readied himself. He suspected, as did his brothers, that the men were not going to give up; the pull of the gold was too much for the likes of them. They would rather take the chance that they could shoot their way out rather than take a chance of loosing the money.

The five minutes went slowly. Just as the time expired there was a fusillade of shots from the bushes across the clearing, filling the night with the roaring of guns and intermittent light of the muzzle flashes. Bullets chewed up the leaves over Jarrod’s head, and thunked into the log in front of him. He knew they were raking the area, hoping to kill or injure. After several minutes the firing slowed then ceased all together. As was the plan, Jarrod remained where he was, as his brothers would be. He hoped they had been as well protected as he. They really didn’t need any more wounded Barkley’s. After several more minutes, Jarrod watched as several figures moved out of the bushes across the clearing. His eyes were acclimated to the darkness, and while he could not see details, he could see movement, and the bulk of the men moving. From the looks of it all of the able bodied men were moving. Heath had suspected this would be the response of the gang, and had suggested what he thought they should do. It had seemed a good plan, and both Nick and Jarrod had agreed. As such Jarrod held his fire, and the expected voice called out from his right.

“You men stand still and drop your weapons. NOW!” Nick voice roared through the canyon. Heath had smiled slightly as he suggested that Nick be the one to give the final warning, saying that he had the best voice for it. Nick had scowled at his younger brother and grumbled at Jarrod’s laughter. It had been a light moment in what had been a mostly grim night.

The men in the clearing turned toward Nick’s voice and started shooting. As they did, Jarrod popped up and started firing, knowing that Heath would be doing the same from his position, though he could not distinguish Heath’s shots from the rest of those echoing through the canyon. He saw two of the men fall. A third man fell to the ground screaming, and almost as soon as it began the firing stopped, the remaining men threw down their guns and raised their hands. Nick popped up from where he had been and moved forward, his pistol in his hand. Heath appeared out of the darkness and picked up the discarded weapons. Nick had the remaining men kneel down and cross their legs behind them. It would be difficult for them to rise quickly, and one man could watch them easily. As soon as he saw everything seemed under control Jarrod stepped out in to the clearing with his rifle. Heath slowly put together some dry wood and leaf litter and lit a fire in the remains of one of the campfires that had faded down to ashes. As the flames rose to light the clearing Jarrod followed Heath over to the other side of the clearing. Heath moved to stand behind a tree, leveling his rifle into the bushes.

“You all in there. If you got guns toss ‘em this way, and keep your hands where we can see ‘em. If you feel like dyin’ then make your move now.” He ordered the men who they knew where there in the shadows. After a few moments first one then two more guns were tossed out. Jarrod moved into the dim area, and under Heath’s study rifle helped the wounded men into the clearing with the others. There were only five men alive out of the original gang and teamsters, Howland, and three of his sons, was dead. Heath scowled at one of the wounded men as Jarrod helped him walk by, and the lawyer suspected that this was one of the Hastings teamsters, possibly the one that Heath had used his knife on back on the trail. The man did have a shoulder wound, though it was bound and he could not see if it was a knife or bullet wound. Finally all of their prisoners were in one place.

Nick continued to stand guard as Jarrod and Heath tied the hands and feet of each, including the wounded men, who protested. Heath simply suggested that maybe it would be easier to take them back if they were dead, and they quieted quickly. Once they had everyone secured the three brothers gathered near the fire. Heath sat tiredly down on the ground, leaning against one of the logs that had been drawn up to the side of the fire pit, and sighed heavily. It seemed as if it had been years since they had been at the ranch, sitting around the table, or in the parlor. He was so tired.

Jarrod and Nick sat down on the log itself, on either side of their brother. Rifles were kept at their sides, though the gang looked defeated. All three had nothing to say, the exhaustion of the full day and most of the night catching up with them now that the action was over. Jarrod scrubbed one hand over his face, frowning at the stubble that covered his cheeks. He looked over at Nick, and smiled at the picture his brother presented. Always with a heavy beard, and now covered with dirt, grass and leaves, his brother looked more like a criminal than those they had just captured. Nick caught sight of his smile and looked at him askance.

“Why are you sitting over there grinning? I feel like hell, and want to sleep for the next four or five days.” He growled.

“A good plan Brother Nick, and one that I heartily endorse as long as it includes a bath, but one I fear must be delayed until we return to civilization, such as it is. One of us has to watch our prisoners, and we’ll have to go and find the horses and mules as soon as it gets light enough.”

“They won’t have gone too far.” Heath muttered. “There’s a meadow of sorts down the canyon where they ran, lots of good grass and water. I figure we’ll find most if not all of them there. Them we don’t find we can probably do without. I don’t figure we need to tote the dead ones back. If anyone wants ‘em, we can tell where they are.”

Nick looked down at the blond head at his knee, and hesitantly put a hand on the broad shoulder that brushed his thigh. To his surprise, and secret enjoyment, Heath didn’t shrug it off. The fever seemed to be less than it had been. Obviously cleaning the wound and the short rest had helped. Of course that didn’t mean that it couldn’t come back if the younger man over did. Nick thought about what had to be done. “ I figure I’ll go after our horses first. Jarrod, you and Heath can stay here and watch the prisoners, and when I get back you can go after the horses while I rest up and Heath keeps watch.” He suggested. He wasn’t sure how Heath would take it, but his younger brother was nodding slightly as was his elder.

“I agree Nick. It sounds like the best plan. Can we make some sort of torch for you to make it easier to get back over the hill if you are going now? It will make it faster for you.” Nick nodded and he made up a torch using some cloths and coal oil that they found in the supplies. Heath stayed sitting by the fire, gazing into the flames. Nick was soon ready to go, and he nudged Jarrod and jerked his head toward the fire, where Heath’s head had fallen back against the log, obviously asleep. Jarrod nodded at his brother, content to do the guarding himself until Nick returned.

Four hours later the sun was lighting the eastern sky, and Jarrod was rounding up the horses and mules that he found where Heath had said they would be. Nick had returned quickly with the horses, and had taken over guard duty. Heath was still sleeping soundly when Nick returned. Jarrod had decided to get an early start so he could be at the meadow by the time the sun rose, and get the horses as soon as possible. He had little trouble collecting the contented animals.

Back at the camp, things were quiet. The prisoners were quiet, most of them sleeping or unconscious. Nick didn’t really care which. They had made their own beds, they could sleep in them. He went and sat down near his sleeping brother. He found himself staring at the sleeping man, Looking for, and finding, the similarities in the face of this brother that the others had seen from the beginning. The fine features were more like Audra’s than his or Jarrod’s, but Nick could see something of their father in him now that he allowed himself to do so. He looked away for a moment, at the fire that was dying down. As he looked back he found himself staring into the sky blue eyes that were open and watching him.

“Jarrod says you want me to come back, and I seem to recall you sayin’ somethin’ of the same. Course, I ain’t recallin’ anythin’ really clear. If it was all wishful thinkin’ I can just go now and save everbody the trouble. All you got to say is that I left and you couldn’t stop me. I can make sure ain’t no one gonna find me next time.”

Nick felt an almost panic as he thought of his younger brother disappearing again, and this time doing such a good job that they would never know where he had gone. He knew that the younger man could do it, he had seen his planning ability, and would not ever underestimate the boy again. He chose his words carefully, which for him was hard. He was used to just saying what he thought. Just putting it out there and letting people deal with it as they would, that was his style. But this was too important, to crucial to the happiness of not only himself, but also his whole family. He stared into the fire as he spoke.

“I was a fool.” He started, wanting to get it out of the way. Obviously Heath didn’t really remember much about what he had said before, other than the tone of it. “I let my anger at father, our father, get in the way. I blamed you for what he did, and that was wrong. I should have just taken you for the man that you are, and I would have seen that you are my brother, and that you disserve everything that we all have had since we were born. I would have seen what a good rancher you are, a good hand all around and ….a good man. One that you can trust to say what he means and mean what he says. You are as much a Barkley as I am, maybe more, since you considered me your brother even when I was being a……” Nick had to stop himself, as he almost said the word that had hung between them for months. He shook his head. He had never before considered how words could wound, as surely as a bullet, and he had thrown wounding words at his brother since the beginning. Looking at Heath for the first time since he had begun to speak he saw a small smile lifting one side of his brother’s mouth, a quirky smile that Nick found quite appealing. He found himself wanting to see that smile more often.

“You acted outta love for your family. I wracked it all up, made everything harder. I didn’t think about anyone but me when I came, and I was angry…angry at everbody. I should have thought it out, maybe done something different.”

“You wouldn’t have come, knowing what you could have?” Nick asked.

Heath shook his head. “At first it wasn’t about the havin’. It was about the gettin’. Gettin’ what was mine, the way I saw it. I didn’t know about the havin’. But it quit being about that when I talked to your mother that night in the house. I was gonna go, but she told me to be Tom Barkley’s son, and that meant bein’ with you all at Semples place, and later it meant workin’ the ranch, and bein’ there at the house. It meant eatin’ dinner with you all, and sittin’ in the parlor after and listen to you all talk. I come to realize that the money was nothin’, it was you, all of you, that I really wanted. But if it’s gonna cost you all too much, I can go.”

Nick shook his head, and met the sky blue eyes that were becoming more and more familiar. “Don’t. Don’t give up on me, on us. Family doesn’t count cost. Family just counts. You stay, work with me, grow with me. There isn’t anything out there that can stop the two of us working together.”

Heath listened to the words that were coming from Nick, and felt them going into his heart, where they would stay for a long time. As Nick finished, Heath heard a horse approaching and saw Jarrod riding into the clearing, leading a string of horses and mules. Heath looked back at Nick, and smiled. “Looks like you forgot big brother Jarrod. Think maybe you aught to make that the three of us. Seems all us Barkley’s is hard to stop.” Nick followed his gaze and smiled. He reached out and grabbed Heath by the back of the neck, giving him a shake.

“You go that right, little brother. We get what we want when we put our minds to it.” He stood and stretched. He hadn’t had enough sleep, and he was hungry for something that wasn’t cooked over a campfire, but he was feeling pretty good. They might not be back to town yet, but they would be soon, and once they were, and the remaining gang was handed over and the gold was somewhere safe, they could go home. Together. He looked from his older brother to his younger and took a deep breath. “Let’s get this on the road. I can just about taste that rare steak and cold beer that Jarrod is going to buy us.” He said grandly. Heath smiled as he listened to his brothers squabble back and forth as they gathered up the gold packs and loaded the horses.

Chapter 20

Victoria Barkley stepped down from the train in the railhead town of Redding, and turned to watch as Audra followed her down from the back of the Barkley train car. She had received a telegram from a man by the name of Huckmeister, saying that Jarrod and Nick had had gone after Heath who had gone after the men who had killed several of the guards on the gold that he had just mined. He couldn’t say where they had gone, but when he and the remaining guard had arrived in Shasta neither the Barkley brothers, nor the men they were sure had robbed them, where there or had been heard from. Victoria had read the telegram and called immediately for Duke McCall. She had ordered a carriage around, and had told Dike that she and Audra were going to Shasta. McCall had protested, but had bent before the force that was Victoria Barkley. She had sent the man that had brought the telegram back to town with two dollars and a message to the railroad station to hook the Barkley car to the next north bound train. She and Audra had packed quickly and had arrived in Stockton just before the train had left. After traveling overnight they had reached Redding early the next morning.

She made arrangements with the stationmaster to have the Barkley car sidelined and with Audra in her wake went to the Sheriff’s office. The Sheriff was happy to tell them what he knew, though there was little beyond the suspicions that he had about certain persons, including the Marshall in Shasta. He was able to tell them that Huckmeister had come down from Shasta the previous day and was even now in a hotel near the west end of town. He had offered to escort them there, and she had accepted his escort gladly. She had not expected the large numbers of men in town. There were workers of all races present, mostly idle, evidently waiting for the work to begin on the railroad north. She was well aware of how things could get out of hand when so many men were in one place, all anxious for work. Tensions could grow, fights could start: English against Irish, Irish against Chinese, Chinese against Polish, and on and on. She suspected the Sheriff was in town because of the crowds, and knew he would have a number of deputies patrolling the town.

They arrived unmolested at the hotel, and the Sheriff took his leave of them, after offering whatever help he could. He was anxious to clean out the corruption in the county seat, but was currently consumed with keeping the peace here. Victoria inquired after Huckmeister at the desk, and was told he was in. She sent a message up to his room, asking to meet him in the parlor of the hotel. If she had been alone she would have gone to his room, but she was not going to set a bad example to Audra. A gently bred woman did not enter the hotel room of an unrelated man at any time. They withdrew to the slightly shabby parlor, and waited. Huckmeister appeared in the doorway, taking in the simple elegance of the two women in their traveling clothes. Victoria rose to her feet when she became aware of his presence and went to stand before him. She offered a hand.

“Mr. Huckmeister. I am Victoria Barkley. I received your telegram yesterday. I would appreciate it if you would tell me the full story.” She waved toward the settee and chair. “Please sit with us. Perhaps you could start with how you became acquainted with my sons.”

The old miner squinted at first Victoria and then Audra. “Didn’t rightly know that Heath was your boy when I hired him on. He was usin’ another name, Thompson it was. I have me a claim, out yonder in the Cascades. Rich one, richest I ever had…” he went on to tell them about the trip out, and how they had mined the lens of gold. He couldn’t help but brag about all that they had taken out. He then grimly told them about the betrayal of the men he had hired, and the death of the guards. He told them how Heath had been wounded, and how Nick and Jarrod had arrived. He described Nick’s wrath when the next morning they had found their brother gone, and the determination of both to find him and help him bring the thieves and killers to justice. Huckmeister made sure that the two women knew that he had faith in Heath, that he believed that if he did catch up to the gang, that he would indeed bring the gold back, along with however many of the gang survived.

“And you believe that Heath, acting alone, can bring this gang to justice.” Victoria asked, wondering at the depth of faith in this man that had known Heath such a short time,

“You come to know a man pretty well when you live with him round the clock for a month or so. That boy is as honest as the day is long. He’s the type that will follow you to the ends of the earth to right a wrong he done you, or to find justice for a wrong you done him or his. And I got to tell you in all my years I ain’t met many men as able as that boy. If he set his mind to getting’ back that gold, and catchin’ the men that stole it and killed those men, then they might as well give up right now.”

Victoria found herself moved at this statement of faith. Heath was not her son, but he was the son of her husband, and she was proud that he was a man that could inspire such faith. She smiled at the old man. “I am grateful that you sent the telegram, and that you have shared this information with us. Could you give us the directions to a good hotel in Shasta, and perhaps the names of some people we could trust?”

“You goin’ up there?” Huckmeister asked, looking form Victoria to Audra again. “It’s pretty rough. I don’t know that ladies like yourself ought to be in a town like that alone.”

“Be that as it may,” Victoria said, “ We are going. I have been in many such towns, and we will be fine. Do you have any suggestions for the hotel?”

Huckmeister recognized that the woman was not going to be talked out of going, and shook his head. “I can’t let you all go up there on your own. Was plannin’ on going back myself, once I got some men together down here. Edwards, he’s out finding some men so we can get back out there and try to find your boys.”

“That had been my intention as well. I would appreciate it if you would allow me to pay their wages.” Victoria said. She had been unsure how to best get quality men, and was grateful that Huckmeister and Edwards, who knew the men here would be selecting them. Huckmeister hemmed and hawed, but finally agreed. It was decided that they would take the noon stage up to Shasta and would await Edwards and the men there. Victoria and Audra retreated to the train to pack, and Huckmeister went to find Edwards and tell him about the change of plans.

Three hours later the two Barkley ladies stepped down off the stage, handed down by Huckmeister. The old miner collected all their bags, and led the ladies toward the hotel where Nick and Jarrod had stayed. They had gotten rooms, and had started down the street toward the café, when Audra had stopped, staring down the street that led to the west. Victoria, walking with a hand on Huckmeister’s arm, noticed that the young woman had stopped, and looked to see what had taken her attention. She could make out a group of horses coming toward them. It appeared there were several mounted men, leading a group of mules. She looked back at Audra just as the girl burst into a smile and gathering the skirts of her traveling dress in her hands, started running down the street.

“Audra!” She called, shocked at the young woman’s actions.

Audra paused only for a moment, turning to look at her mother. “It’s them! Jarrod and Nick and Heath. They’re coming!” She quickly turned and started running down the street again. Victoria threw up her hands. She would have to have a serious discussion with Audra about her deportment. Perhaps she had been around her brother’s too much. She lifted her own skirts slightly and with a nod of her head at Huckmeister they started quickly forward.

Audra was halfway to the group of riders when she saw it. It made her pause for a moment, but then she started forward again, the smile gone from her face, but determined to get to them as soon as possible. As she approached closer she could see Jarrod frowning at her in that paternal way he had and Nick smiling at her. It was her third brother who caused her concern. Heath was on his black horse, but was pale, and much thinner than he had been when he left. He was riding stiffly, not all like his usual form. She had envied him that from the first, the way he flowed with the horse, moving as if he were one with the animal. All were bearded and dirty, though the older ones looked to be all right. Heath on the other hand looked like he was ill, pale and strained. She noticed that Nick was riding close to Heath’s side, and keeping a watchful eye on him. As she came to a stop next to his horse Heath’s blue eyes, so like her own, sparkled down at her.

“Boy howdy. Ain’t never had me a welcoming committee, and a right pretty one too. Might not want to get too close. I don’t reckon I’m any to fresh.” He said.

“I don’t care about that. I’m just so glad to see you.” Audra said, putting her hand on Heath’s leg. She looked around at her older brothers. “So glad to see all of you.”

“So we could tell from your approach. Dare I hope that you are not here alone running through the streets?” Jarrod kidded her. She mock scowled at him.

“Mother is coming, along with that nice Mr. Huckmeister. He escorted us here from Redding,” She looked at the men that were tied to their horses, and the loaded mules. “He told us everything that happened until you all went after the gang. Are these all that are left? Did you get the gold?”

Jarrod raised a hand, looking down the street to where he could see Huckmeister and their mother approaching at a far more decorous speed. “Why don’t we save the story for after we get these men and the gold someplace secure, and get a chance to perhaps wash off a few layers of dirt? I think it would be best to tell the story only once.” He swept off his hat, and bowed slightly to the two people who were approaching. “‘Hello Lovely Lady. It is good to see you. Your unexpected presence makes the town all the more attractive.” He said gallantly.

With a frown of displeasure at the unrepentant Audra, Victoria smiled at Jarrod, taking in the condition of her sons, and of the young man that she was coming to consider a son. Nick and Jarrod were obviously tired, and looked ready for a bath and a good meal. Heath looked pale, thin, and even more tired then his brothers and she could see he was keeping himself in the saddle mainly through strength of will.

“I am very happy to see you all as well. I can see that you have completed what you set out to do. Perhaps after you take care of your prisoners and get cleaned up you can give us an idea of what has happened. Audra and I have taken rooms at the hotel. You boys can use them for now, and Audra and I will get another.”

Huckmeister could not believe his eyes, His mules, all of them were there, loaded with the packs, and several of the men who had betrayed him were tied to horses. He didn’t recognize the other two, but supposed they were the remains of the gang that had attacked them. He slapped his knee with excitement. “I’ll be hanged boys. I knew you could do it!” He crowed.

They had drawn quite a crowd, among them the Marshall. He hemmed and hawed when he heard the story, but in the end, as Jarrod started quoting laws, he was forced to take the men into custody pending the arrival of the county sheriff. Huckmeister assured them that he would send the message himself. The gold was taken to the county assay office, where it was assayed and weighed. It came out to a very large amount, an amount that had Huckmeister nearly dancing with joy. It was only after all this was done, and the horses and mules were housed in the local livery that the three Barkley men were able to retreat to the hotel. Victoria had arranged for baths for all of them, and arranged for some crackers and light finger foods to be brought in so that the men could have something while they cleaned up.

It was almost two hours after Audra had spotted them coming in that she answered the door to the room she was now sharing with her mother, the hotel not having another room. Jarrod stood there, his face clean-shaven, and wearing clean clothes. He smiled on his sister, and went forward to kiss his mother on the cheek as she sat in a settee near the window. He dropped another kiss on Audra’s cheek, and accepted a drink from the bottle of scotch that Victoria had ordered up form the nearest saloon. Another bottle of whiskey sat nearby. He lifted his glass to his mother.

“To you lovely lady. I suspect our return would have been nowhere near as smooth if you were not here, and not nearly as welcoming.” He took a hearty swig of the golden liquor and smiled. “I must admit to missing that.” He admitted. He went to sit next to his mother. “I assume that you received a telegram from Mr. Huckmeister and that is the reason for your presence?” he asked.

She nodded in that regal manner that he loved. “Indeed. I felt that it would be better if we were here to coordinate any attempts to locate you, rather than trying to deal with people we didn’t know via telegram. We had just arrived when your sister saw you.” Audra’s quick blush indicated that their mother had already had words with her about her actions, but Jarrod smiled at her.

“And a welcome sight she was. I know I speak for us all when I say that you both have been missed.” As he finished speaking there was a pounding at the door. “Ah, Brother Nick appears to have finished his bath. He was still lounging in the tub when I left the room.” This hotel did not have a bathroom, but they had large tubs that could be brought to the rooms and filled with hot water. Audra rose to open the door as it shook under a second assault. Nick stood there with his hand raised, and smiled at her. He also was clean-shaven and in clean clothes.

“Well there little missy. It’s good to see you. Give your favorite big brother a hug.” He said, spreading his arms for her. She smiled and stepped forward for a bear hug.

“I already have, but I’ll give you one too.” She teased. He growled at her like a bear and gave her an extra squeeze. Nick went to kiss his mother, and spotted the glass in Jarrod’s hand. “I hope you have something beside that stuff that Jarrod likes so much.” He said. Before anyone could answer he spotted the whiskey and went to pour himself a glass. Victoria didn’t bother to hide her smile at this rambunctious display. She had missed Nick’s energy, as she had missed Jarrod’s steadiness. Nick tossed down one shot, and poured another. He came to stand near the rest, looking around.

“Heath hasn’t come in yet? What’s keeping the boy?” he said.

“He chose to use the single room?” Victoria asked, worried that perhaps the problems that had sent Heath from the ranch had not been resolved.

Jarrod shook his head. “We flipped for it. Heath won the toss. It seems that poker is not the only form of betting he wins at.”

“Yeah. The boy has more luck than a bag of horseshoes.” Nick said, shaking his head fondly. Victoria was comforted by that tone. It told her that conversations had been undertaken, and problems worked out. Nick se the drink down and started for the door. “I’ll go check on him. Make sure he didn’t fall asleep in the tub.” He disappeared out the door, spurs jingling merrily. The others talked about the ladies trip north for almost thirty minutes until they heard Nick’s voice in the hall.

“All you had to do was ask, boy. I coulda had that taken care of in a minute. You gotta learn to ask for help!” Nick swung open the door and ushered his younger brother into the room. The blond, like his brothers was clean-shaven, and was wearing clean clothes, though his looked brand new. Heath smiled the small smile that Victoria found so charming. Nick got Heath a drink of whiskey, and they all sat down. By unspoken consent, Jarrod was elected as the spokesperson and he related what had happened. Nick interjected several times, when he felt that Jarrod was leaving out important parts. Heath simply listened, his eyes moving from one to the next of his family as they listened. Victoria thought she saw a contented light in the blue eyes so like his father’s.

“And the rest you know.” Jarrod finished. “I for one am glad that it is over, and look forward to returning home and to my office. I am afraid that Jingo will need to be exercised by someone else for awhile.” The family shared a laugh.

“Thank you for telling us the full story, Jarrod. We were very worried, but it seems that we needn’t have been since you all were together, taking care of each other. Now perhaps we should go to dinner so that you all can get some rest.” Victoria said.

There was a soft snort from Nick, and he spoke with uncommon softness. “Looks like we’ll be one short for that dinner. Little brother has beat us to the sleeping part.” They all looked at Heath who had fallen asleep, lulled by the cadence of his brother’s voice, the comfort of the chair, and the presence of his family about him.

Victoria rose and gently stroked the blond hair back, and placed a kiss on the forehead that she was glad to note was not too hot. Audra stepped forward.

“I’m not too hungry right now, mother. I’ll stay with him in case he wakes. I brought a book with me. You and the boys go eat and bring something back for Heath and I.”

Though she was reluctant to leave any of her family behind, she also did not wish to wake Heath. She nodded and they prepared to leave. As Nick closed the door behind them, she looked back and saw Audra seating herself at her brother’s feet, leaning against the chair by his legs. She held a small book of poetry in her lap. A ray of sunshine flowed through the window, catching the two blond heads and seeming to glow. The door closed, and she placed a hand on each of her sons’ arm, and they started down the stairs. She smiled as they descended. Nick was telling Jarrod that Heath didn’t have any clean clothes, and he had been in his room trying to beat the dirt out of what he had. Nick had simply gone next door to the general store and got some new stuff for him. He was describing the blush that had colored their brother’s cheeks when he opened the door in his underclothes.

She had been preying that her sons would return to her, that they would bring their brother with them, and that they would be together again as a family. Her prayers had been answered.

THE END