To Be or Not To Be, Part 3

by Katlynn

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 13

It had been just short of 6 p.m. when Heath had ridden away from the Franklin Ranch. He knew he could easily reach Reno in time to make the 7:30 train to Carson City and, in fact, arrived on the outskirts of town with forty minutes to spare. His horse was returned to the livery that was just a couple blocks from the depot then he sought out the telegraph office that Jack Franklin had said was open around the clock. Telegrams, Jack had told them, didn’t always go out right away but with a transcontinental train running through Reno, it was open to accommodate travelers no matter when they passed through town. And, for added convenience, it was just across the street from the depot. He explained that the local operators had a timetable that told them when other offices along the lines were open and telegrams were sent when the operators in Reno knew someone was there to receive them.

They didn’t need their telegram to go out that night but if Heath left it at the telegraph office before departing for Carson City it would be sent in the morning and that would be several hours before Nick arrived in town with the horses. While Jack was leaving for St. Louis on a Friday morning train, his foreman and several hands would be loading horses on a Friday evening train bound for Sacramento. Jack had twelve horses that were being delivered by his crew to the army encampment just outside California’s state capital. Nick and Heath were sending their new acquisitions with Jack’s men and were counting on Jarrod to arrange for someone to be in Sacramento when the horses arrived.

The train ride to Sacramento would take at least half a day, arriving sometime around sunrise on Saturday. The rails between Reno and Sacramento twisted and turned their way through the mountains with trains sometimes averaging only ten miles an hour as they climbed or slowed for unnaturally sharp bends in the tracks. As the crow flies, the two towns were only about 110 miles apart. As the rails were laid, they were separated by almost thirty-five additional miles. Even at half-a-day, the trip was still two or three days shorter than men on horseback could make it and Jack kept his stock car for that reason. It was frequently hitched to eastbound or westbound trains delivering his horses across the country. Heath had no doubt that when Nick had heard about Jack’s stock car he’d decided on the spot that the Barkleys should have one, too. The blond cowboy figured it was only a matter of time before they did.

* * * * *

It was too late for visiting when Heath arrived in Carson City but he hadn’t expected to be doing that Thursday night. He just wanted to get some rest and he’d decided on the train that he was going to do that at the Ormsby House – simply because he could. It was one of the more expensive hotels and casinos in Carson City, on the corner of 6^th and Carson, in one of the busiest parts of town. He’d walked past it on several occasions while working in the area but at the time he hadn’t dared to even enter its lobby. A bedroll in a hayloft had seemed more appropriate at that stage in his life. But now he was going to have a thick, juicy steak in its elegant dining room. And he was going to spend the night in one of its well-appointed rooms with its carpeted floors and private bath and big double bed. And he wasn’t going to let it bother him that the name Heath Barkley would get that for him sooner than the name Heath Thomson would.

It was just as he’d imagined it would be. The desk clerk had clearly heard of the Barkleys from Stockton, California. When Heath signed the hotel registry using a name and city he didn’t plan to be calling his own in another week or so, the man was suddenly more welcoming than he’d been when he’d first seen a dusty cowboy with a saddlebag thrown over his shoulder.

“If there’s anything at all that you need, Mr. Barkley, please don’t hesitate to ask,” the man almost bowed as he said it.

“All I want is a hot bath, a good meal, and a soft bed,” Heath responded in a voice that was almost as tired as he felt.

“Well, if there’s anything else you’d like us to arrange, we’d be more than happy to accommodate you.”

Heath smiled as he took the key the man offered. “Thanks all the same,” he drawled, “but I prefer to make those sort of arrangements myself.”

He was still smiling as he entered the room that was to be his for the night. He’d never stayed in a hotel room this luxurious and, for a moment, wondered if he should have given in to the indulgence. Did he really need anything more than a bed and a chair to throw his hat and saddlebag on? No, he laughed to himself, but it did feel good to have it just this once.

He almost fell asleep as he soaked in the tub. He’d been thinking about his day’s journey and had to convince himself that he really had started the day east of the Pine Nut Mountains – had ridden into Carson City and taken the train to Reno – had traveled out to the Franklin Ranch and back to Reno and then returned to Carson City. It was amazing, he thought, how far you could actually travel in a day now that trains were in service in so many places. He only realized that he was close to sleep when he took a breath and got water instead. He’d relaxed to the point that he’d slid down low enough for the water to cover his mouth and just reach his nose. He coughed and sat up straighter and was instantly glad that Nick wasn’t around to see him almost drown himself.

As tired as he was, he hadn’t eaten since lunch and that hunger took him down to the dining room even at that late hour. There were a number of other diners and, as he waited for his supper and surveyed the room, he couldn’t help but think that women must have more sense than men when it came to eating at a reasonable hour. All the other patrons of the hotel’s restaurant were men. Most seemed to be at the after-supper stage and he could see the unmistakable haze and smell the familiar aroma of Jarrod’s favorite evening cigar. And that made him think of the perfume he’d sensed as he walked past an elegantly dressed woman at the train depot in Reno; it had reminded him of Audra. He couldn’t help wondering, as he thought about the cigar and the perfume – and the fragrance of roses in the hotel lobby that reminded him of Mrs. Barkley – if there would come a time when those instant remembrances would disappear. He wasn’t sure he wanted them to.

Traveling in from Reno, he’d considered sitting in on a poker game in the hotel’s casino after eating. By the time he finished his meal he wasn’t in the mood for anything except sleep. But that didn’t come as easily as he’d hoped. Some of the casinos and dancehalls that now populated Carson City were open around the clock. There was a casino across from the Ormsby House on Carson Street and a dancehall across 6^th Street. Heath’s room faced the dancehall whose music and laughter filtered into the streets and floated through the window of his room.

If it had been just the noise, though, he could have fallen asleep. He’d learned, as a child, to sleep through the noise of drunken miners laughing and fighting in the streets of Strawberry late into the night. And he’d slept through the sounds of guns and cannons and battle when he was in the army. But this was one of those times when Mama would have said that his body wanted to sleep but his brain didn’t, he thought, as he shifted his position for maybe the tenth time in as many minutes. As a boy, when he had something on his mind and just couldn’t fall asleep, Mama would sit next to him and sing him a song. That would usually find him falling asleep in a very short time. Music didn’t seem to be doing the same tonight.

Mostly he was thinking about what Mr. Franklin had said – that he didn’t want to leave the Barkley Ranch any more than Nick wanted him to. And that there was a big difference between wanting to leave and thinking he should. He really did think it was the best thing for everyone if he left. He wanted to do it for Mrs. Barkley – and for Nick. Mostly Mrs. Barkley, though, he tried to convince himself. A fine lady like her shouldn’t have to face the reminder every day that her husband hadn’t been faithful to her. She said she’d known about it – but knowing about it was entirely different than the evidence of her husband’s infidelity staring her in the face every day. And every time those eyes met his, he saw that hurt. Mama had been hurt by his presence in her life. He couldn’t let the same thing happen to another woman who seemed to be every bit as special as Mama.

And then there was Nick. He wasn’t sure he’d ever figure that man out. There was absolutely no question that Nick Barkley worshipped the ground Tom Barkley had trod. And he didn’t doubt that Nick probably regretted dragging the information out of him that Tom was his father – because if that had never come out there’d be no threat to Tom’s memory. Heath really believed he could have stayed in Stockton for quite some time without telling anyone of his parentage. It probably would have come out sooner or later – and later would have been his preference. If they’d just had the chance to get better acquainted, maybe Nick wouldn’t resent him so much. The last few days proved that Nick could temporarily put aside his anger towards him – they were getting along pretty well. But he was sure that would change when they got back to the ranch and all that Tom Barkley had built was spread out around them once more. If nothing else, at least this trip suggested that maybe sometime in the future, when Nick had gotten used to the idea that his father was less than perfect – well – maybe if not brothers they could at least be friends. Maybe someday he could go back to the Barkley Ranch and Nick would be glad to see him.

Sleep, of course, finally came. And when he awoke Friday morning, the thought of Nick welcoming him back to the ranch one day was the last thought he could remember having before he fell asleep. And he had to admit – it was good thought on which to start his day.

* * * * *

McNulty’s Livery and Farrier was two blocks south and six blocks west of the Ormsby House. After several days of riding on horses and trains, Heath decided a walk was just what he needed. Down Carson Street and for a couple blocks west on 8^th Street he walked past businesses similar to those around the hotel. But that changed in the space of the third block he covered on 8^th Street as he passed by a couple stores, a barbershop and a dressmaker. Then there was a church and a school. A rooming house whose sign identified it as ‘Miss Helene’s Rooms for Young Ladies’. Two of those young ladies had just stepped down from the porch and he tipped his hat without even realizing that he had. Only when he’d passed by and heard their giggles was he conscious of the gesture he’d made. He felt the flush that rose from his neck to his face and knew there was no way he was going to turn around to get a better look. And he figured he’d better pay attention to where he was going or he might walk right past Mac’s livery.

The same sound as the day before – the clanging of metal on metal – greeted Heath as he approached the front entrance of the livery. Mac looked up and smiled a greeting even as he cooled the heated metal in the water barrel.

“Boy, if I’d known ya’d be back so early, I’da met ya’ at the train depot,” Mac seemed to scold him.

“Came back last night,” Heath told him, sitting down to watch as Mac worked on a horseshoe.

“And ya’ didn’t stop by!”

“It was late,” Heath shrugged. “I just went straight to the hotel – had supper – went to sleep.”

“Stayin’ in hotels, now!” Mac laughed. “Must be the influence of your travelin’ companion. Can’t see one of the Barkleys sleepin’ in a hay loft.”

“No, we don’t do that,” Heath shook his head.

“At least when one of them is with ya’ to pay for the room?” Mac asked jokingly.

“Nick is still in Reno. We bought five horses and he’s gonna get ‘em on the train for Sacramento later today and meet me here tomorrow. He said there was no need for me to stay in Reno if I wanted to come back and visit.”

“That was right nice of him. I think ya’ mighta found that place ya’ should be settlin’ in,” Mac suggested.

“Ya’ think?” Heath took a deep breath and let it out loudly.

“Don’t you?” Mac sounded surprised. “Ya’ could do worse, kid! I got the impression you and Nick get along reasonably well.”

“That ain’t the way it’ll be when we get back to Stockton,” Heath maintained. “There’s a little more to the story. I’m not just working for the Barkleys,” he admitted. “I actually AM a Barkley. Turns out that Tom Barkley was my father.”

“And ya’ know this to be true because…” Mac prompted.

“Because Mama told me before she died,” Heath said softly.

The Barkleys were instantly forgotten as Mac looked his younger friend in the eyes and said, “Oh … kid, I’m so sorry. I never met her but I know from hearin’ ya’ talk about her that she was a remarkable lady. I’m real sorry.”

Heath nodded. “Part of me is, too. But there’s a part of me that’s happy that she’s not sufferin’ anymore. She was real sick – and I know she suffered more than she let on. I’m glad I got home to spend some time with her – and NOT because she told me about my father,” he added. “I’ve hated the man ever since I was old enough to understand what he did – and that ain’t gonna change because I know his name.”

“But – ya’ ended up in Stockton,” Mac pointed out. “So ya’ musta gone lookin’ for him.”

“I didn’t go lookin’ for him. I knew he was dead. I went lookin’ for someone else to blame for what Mama went through from the day he rode outta Strawberry and left her alone,” Heath stated, the anger he’d felt at the time creeping into his voice.

“And ya’ found his family,” Mac nodded. “YOUR family.”

“Yeah. My family,” Heath agreed. “And I actually liked ‘em. Found out I couldn’t blame ‘em for somethin’ he’d done. And I also found out that knowin’ what he did hurts ‘em more than I wanna hurt ‘em. I didn’t tell ‘em right off – but once Nick found out…” Heath shook his head, “I swear if he coulda gotten away with it, he’da killed me.”

“Again, I gotta say it, boy. You and Nick were gettin’ along real nice. And thinkin’ on it – I can almost believe it was a brotherly sorta feelin’,” Mac couldn’t help a little chuckle.

“Don’t say that in front of Nick,” Heath said quickly. “Knowin’ ya’ both I gotta figure Nick would take a swing at ya’ – ya’d fight back and ya’d win – and they’d think I tried to kill him. Since we left Stockton, he’s fallen off a mountain and tangled with a rattlesnake. And he says I’M accident prone.”

“Ya’ ARE accident prone, kid!”

“Well, I ain’t fallen off any mountains lately,” Heath argued.

Mac started laughing. “That’s prob’ly ‘cause your brother did it first and you’re still lookin’ for somethin’ original to do.”

“And DON’T let him hear ya’ use that word ‘brother’. I don’t think he’s particularly fond of it – ‘cept as it applies to Jarrod and Eugene.”

“So ya’ got three brothers, huh?”

“And a sister. Audra.”

“And how are things with them?”

“Alright,” Heath said simply. Then he shrugged and said, “Pretty good.”

“So why ain’t ya’ thinkin’ of settlin’ down there?”

“It’s just not the right time for me to do that,” Heath stated emphatically. “Maybe sometime in the future. Maybe when Nick and I can … I don’t know…” his voice trailed off with a sigh.

Mac, too, shook his head as he said, “Kid, I know you’re stubborn but ya’ ain’t stupid! Have ya’ asked him if he wants ya’ to leave?”

“Mac, I’ve heard him say it more times than I can count.”

“Ain’t ya’ ever changed your mind about somethin’?”

“Of course I have.”

“Then what makes ya’ think Nick ain’t done the same?”

Heath laughed. “Ya’ think I’m stubborn, Mac? Ya’ ain’t seen stubborn ‘til ya’ve been around Nick Barkley for a while. Once Nick has his mind set on somethin’, he don’t change it.”

“From where I’m standin’, you’re two peas in a pod,” Mac said angrily. “Dammit, boy, if ya’ don’t ask Nick if he wants ya’ to stay or leave, ya’ ain’t never gonna find a place to settle down. Why do ya’ think your mama told ya’ who your father was? She wanted ya’ to find a family!”

“But she didn’t want me to hurt ‘em. Mama never hurt anyone in her life,” Heath stated firmly. “That’s why she let him ride out and kept his secret for him.”

“Then why ain’t ya’ mad at her?”

“Maybe I am a little,” Heath admitted. “But SHE didn’t turn her back on HIM. HE’S the one who walked away and didn’t look back. She gave me the best life she could. He gave me nothin’. And he gave Mama nothin’.”

“Oh, kid – he gave your mama you. And he gave you three brothers and a sister. So use the good sense your mama gave ya’ and before ya’ do somethin’ ya’ll regret – ask Nick just once if he wants ya’ to leave!”

Mac’s brown eyes refused to look away from the blue eyes that stared back at him. He couldn’t read a thing in Heath’s eyes except confusion. So he wasn’t surprised when Heath got up from the hay bales he’d been sitting on and walked out the door. Mac took off the leather apron he was wearing and followed Heath into the yard.

“Kid,” he put an arm around the blond cowboy’s shoulders, “I’ve got the feelin’ ya’ been doin’ too much thinkin’ about this. And ya’ know ya’ always got in trouble when ya’ started thinkin’. So why don’t we put it away for right now and go out back and visit with Clara. She said she’d throw me out if I didn’t bring ya’ back to the house when ya’ came around to get your horses. B’sides,” Mac laughed, “I’ve got a son I wanna show off!”

“Poor kid,” Heath muttered, albeit good-naturedly.

“It’s a good thing I like ya’, boy,” Mac teased back as they disappeared into the livery on their way to the rear entrance and the house beyond it.

* * * * *

The Barkley Ranch

Noon Friday…

Jarrod Barkley turned his horse over to Ciego and entered the house through the back door hoping to avoid his mother on the way in. Luck was not on his side. She was in the kitchen with Silas as they worked together preparing lunch.

“Jarrod! I was hoping you’d be home for lunch,” she came over to kiss him in greeting and offered her cheek for one in return.

Jarrod gave her a distracted peck that barely brushed her face.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded.

“Would it do me any good to say there’s nothing wrong?” Jarrod smiled despite his preoccupation.

“No, not at all,” she stated, shaking her head. “What is it?”

“Well – Nick hasn’t killed Heath yet.”

“What!”

He couldn’t help laughing as he apologized. “I’m sorry, Mother. That was a very feeble attempt to change the subject. I got a telegram sent from Reno. Nick and Heath bought five horses that are arriving in Sacramento tomorrow morning around six o’clock. We need to send some men up there to get them. I really should talk to Duke about that before we discuss – a more serious subject.”

“I happen to think Nick not killing Heath sounds like a relatively serious subject,” Victoria said as straight-faced as she could.

“Let me just read you the telegram and you’ll understand,” Jarrod suggested. “It says… Bought five horses from Jack. Horses arriving Sacramento depot 6 a.m. Saturday. Send men to meet train. Ask for Billy Wilkes. Heath returning to Carson City. Will meet him there Saturday. He’s alive and well. Haven’t killed him yet. Nick.”

“I’m to assume that’s a private joke?”

“I’m sure Nick intended it as one,” Jarrod nodded.

“Well, it’s in very poor taste!”

“I don’t think Heath minded too much. Nick may have written it but the telegram shows that Heath is the one who sent it. Certainly if he objected he’d have changed the wording before he sent it,” Jarrod speculated.

“Unless, of course, Nick wrote it and sent it himself as a way of covering up the fact that he’s already killed Heath,” the Barkley matriarch said in the most solemn tone she could muster.

“MOTHER!”

Victoria smiled. “Well – I guess I have your full attention now,” she said smugly. “We can send our men up to Sacramento on the 6 p.m. train and they can spend the night there and meet the train from Reno in the morning. You can talk to Duke about that after lunch. What is the more serious subject we have to discuss?”

Jarrod knew there was no point in delaying the inevitable so he proposed, “How about if we go into the library.”

He picked up the leather portfolio that held the files he carried between home and office and left the kitchen without waiting for his mother’s reply. She followed him silently.

“Mother, you should sit down,” Jarrod instructed and waited until she did before he did so himself. “Do you remember when Heath first got here and we talked about having him investigated?”

“Of course. But I no longer feel that’s necessary,” Victoria told her eldest son.

“That may be but I contacted Pinkerton the next day,” Jarrod said, “and I got their report today.”

“Jarrod, your tone is implying that there’s a problem,” his mother observed. “Is Heath not who we think he is?” she sounded surprised.

“It’s not that, Mother. All the evidence points to Heath being exactly who he says he is.”

“Is there evidence that your father knew about him?” she asked hesitantly.

“It specifically states that they’re unable to provide an answer to that question.”

Victoria nodded as she considered that. “Then what is the problem?” she finally asked.

“You’ve said that you wish you could get to know him better – but I don’t think you want to know the things that are in this file. Mother…” Jarrod breathed out, “…whether or not Father knew about Heath doesn’t change the fact that he’s lived a very difficult life. If Father did know about him and allowed these things to happen, it’s inexcusable. If he didn’t know – his ignorance is inexcusable. I don’t think you…”

“Jarrod, give me the report,” Victoria held out her hand.

“Mother, you don’t have to…”

“The report!” she demanded.

He’d set the portfolio on the desk when he’d walked in. Now he got up to retrieve the report from inside it and handed it to her reluctantly. As she opened it and started to read, he returned to his chair and silently sat down. For perhaps two minutes he watched as the muscles in his mother’s neck tightened and the color seemed to drain from her face.

Finally she looked up at him through eyes that glistened with unshed tears and said, in a voice thick with emotion, “Would you mind if I read this privately?”

“Mother, I…”

“Jarrod, I want some privacy!”

“Yes, Mother,” he agreed as he stood up. He bent and kissed the top of her head as he passed her chair on his way from the room.

Only when she heard the door close behind her son did Victoria Barkley allow the tears in her eyes to spill down her face. “Oh, Tom…” she whispered so softly that it was almost inaudible, “…how could you possibly have allowed this…”

Chapter 14

Long before the Truckee Meadows gave root to the city of Reno and long before white settlers built the first bridge over the Truckee River where Reno would one day grow, there was gambling in the fertile valley. Native American tribes – the Washoe, Shoshone and Paiute – lived a peaceful existence on the banks of the river, in the lush green meadows, and along the shores of a great desert lake less than thirty miles to the north of that river that flowed down from the mountains. In 1844, white explorers would christen the lake ‘Pyramid Lake’ after a 400-foot outcropping that rose from the lake and resembled the Great Pyramid of Egypt. Later that same year, the river and meadow would be given the name ‘Truckee’ by an emigrant party grateful for the assistance of a Paiute Indian whose name sounded to them like ‘Truckee’.

Generations before these names were bestowed upon the land, the Native Americans would meet in the meadows and play their games of chance. Unlike the games that would later be played by those from the East who settled in the area, the Indian games were celebrations. They played for pelts and bearskins, baskets and jewelry in celebration of a bountiful harvest or a good hunt. The gold and silver that would find their way onto the gambling tables of Reno and other boomtowns of Nevada had no place in the games played by the early inhabitants of the region.

In 1873, sitting at a table in the casino of Reno’s Lake House hotel on the southern shore of the Truckee River, Nick Barkley didn’t care one bit about those early games of chance. He would have scoffed at a pelt or a basket thrown into the pot. He would have laughed at the reason for those games. On a Friday night in May, he sat among men who played for gold and silver coins and their motivation was greed and the challenge of deception. His cards lie on the table, face down, as if he couldn’t be bothered to hold them. Three other men at the table had already folded. The game was now a test of nerves between Nick and a man who looked like the countless other practiced gamblers who’d invaded the area seeking to fleece its newly rich residents. Nick leaned back in his chair and thought about the lesson he’d learned just a week before sitting across the table from Heath in a saloon in Stockton. Heath told him, after he’d taken Nick’s last dollar, that Nick held his cards differently when he had a good hand as opposed to how he held them when he was bluffing. He wouldn’t elaborate – said he had to keep some things to himself. But whatever that difference was, Nick chose to eliminate the possibility of demonstrating it for his opponent by laying his cards on the table as they played.

The last of the money that he would allow himself to play with was thrown into the pot and a moment later their cards were revealed. With smug confidence, Nick proclaimed, “Full house. Kings over jacks.”

His final opponent was expressionless as he said, “Two pairs.” As Nick broke into a wide grin and reached for the money in the center of the table the man added, “Of queens.”

He laid down two queens – and then two more. Four of a kind.

Nick’s hand stopped only an inch from the pile of coins. Three other men at the table held their breath as they waited to see what the dark-haired cowboy was going to do. Not one of them doubted that this was a man who seen a few fights over the outcome of a poker game. He had that look about him. And, in fact, Nick HAD seen his share of barroom brawls incited by less-than-honest gamblers. But he knew that wasn’t what had just happened. He’d been beaten by someone who’d played an honest hand that just happened to be one card better than his.

The hand that was suspended over the pot reached further across the table as Nick stood up and said, “Nice game.”

As the other three men expelled their breath loudly, Nick’s adversary also stood up and shook the offered hand. “Buy ya’ a drink?” he asked.

“Well, you do have all my money,” Nick managed a slight laugh.

They both sat down again as the other three men left the table. The man seated across from him motioned to one of the ladies who was serving drinks and then raked the money towards himself. Only when the coins were neatly stacked in front of him did he look up and say, “Sorry. Forgot my manners. Don’t like to get too friendly before a game starts so I neglected to introduce myself. Name’s Ezra Cooper.”

“Nick Barkley,” he responded as a lady, garbed in a dress that gloriously displayed her assets, stopped next to their table to take their order.

Nick looked up into eyes the color of the early evening sky, eyes that were framed by the longest lashes he could ever recall seeing. Her blonde hair glistened like it had been kissed by the sun. She had the rosy complexion of a young girl although he would have guessed her to be about his own age. Only after she departed to get their drinks did he consider her appearance as a whole. In a more traditional dress he could actually see her seated across the table from him in one of the finer dining rooms in town. Maybe even the dining room of this particular hotel where he happened to have a room for the night, he thought as he looked across the casino and watched her.

“I’ve been in here playing cards the last three nights,” Cooper told him, noting the direction of his gaze, “and I’ve seen her give the brush to every man who’s approached her.”

“What’s that?” Nick looked over at him, not having heard a word of what he’d said.

“The little lady over there. She doesn’t seem to socialize with the customers.”

“Really? Well – we’ll just see about that. I’ve always enjoyed a challenge.”

The lady in question brought their drinks over, setting them on the table and turning to leave almost as if it was a single motion.

“How about a quiet supper for two,” Nick suggested before she had quite turned away. “By candle light.”

The look she favored him with said she was definitely interested. And it said Cooper’s assessment probably wasn’t accurate. “Are you speaking to me, Nick Barkley?” she seemed to be teasing.

“Since you and Mr. Cooper are the only two close enough to hear me, I sincerely hope I’m speaking to you,” Nick replied in the same teasing tone.

She stepped closer, leaning over and giving Nick an even better look at those assets. “A quiet supper for two can be difficult to arrange in a crowded dining room. Perhaps you have … some other proposal?”

“I might be able to find something a bit quieter,” he tried not to smirk as he could see Cooper sitting wide-eyed across from him.

“And I might be ready to leave in about fifteen minutes,” she suggested.

Nick grasped her wrist as she straightened up. “You caught my name. I didn’t catch yours.”

Again she leaned over, this time to whisper in his ear. She breathed out a single word. “…Sally…”

As she returned her tray to the bar and then disappeared into a back room, Nick’s wide-eyed stare mirrored the one he’d seen from Cooper.

Sally? No … not Sally! Of all the women in Reno, he had to run into the one woman who shot up dance halls when she got jealous! There was no way he could return to Carson City and tell Heath he’d had supper – or whatever – with a woman Heath knew on more than a casual basis. And especially not after both Heath and Mac had warned him about her!

Reluctantly he stood up. “Cooper, would you do me a favor?”

“If I can,” the man nodded.

“When Sally gets back – would you tell her I had a sudden attack of conscience and have gone home to my wife – and three kids,” he added the children for good measure.

“You’re joking, right? You’re not really leaving,” Cooper sounded surprised.

“Unfortunately – I am. I’ve gotta go,” Nick said miserably. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Cooper agreed. “And if she’ll allow me to – I’ll even try to comfort her for you.”

“Well, you just … take care of yourself,” Nick felt the need to caution him before he left the gambler to face whatever might await him when Sally returned and found Nick gone.

It was with mixed emotions that Nick left the casino and went up to his room. He was relieved to have caught her name in time to avoid what could have been a big mistake. But, oh, he DID regret what might have been.

* * * * *

In Carson City, Heath was similarly enjoying a night of poker. After supper with Mac and Clara, he returned to a livelier part of town and chose a casino down the street from the Ormsby House as his first stop. It turned out to be his only stop as he found an open chair at a table where a game was just getting underway. A couple hours later when the game broke up, Heath was more than happy to put the lion’s share of the game money in his own pocket. He was pretty sure Nick would have found himself a game in Reno and he couldn’t help wondering which of them had come away the bigger winner.

He’d left the casino and was just stepping off the wooden plank walkway to cross the street when he heard a voice off to his left.

“Heath?” it sounded like a question.

He stopped in the light of one of the oil lamps that hung from a hook on a pole and tried to see who’d spoken his name. He could make out three women walking towards him but until they stepped into the small pool of light cast by the lamp he wasn’t able to see them clearly.

“Heath! It IS you!” one of them suddenly had her arms around him as she stretched up to kiss him.

To his credit, he didn’t have to wait until she backed away to recognize her. He would have known that kiss anywhere. Elizabeth. One of the reasons he regretted having left Carson City. One of the reasons it wouldn’t be such a bad place to come back to.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me!” her anger was instant when no words followed the kiss.

“Liza, there ain’t no way on this earth that I could forget you,” he laughed at the very thought of it.

“Then why didn’t you let me know you were back in town?” she demanded, hands on hips. “And don’t tell me you couldn’t find me! I’m at the dancehall next door just as I’ve been for more than two years.”

“I’m not exactly back in town,” he couldn’t help smiling at the familiar pose. “I’m just passing through.”

“You still could have stopped,” the tone softened as she looked into those ice blue eyes that were anything but cold. “Have you got time to walk?”

Elizabeth Shaw had always liked to walk and that was one of the things he liked most about her. In the month or so that they’d been seeing each other before he left Carson City, she’d never demanded that he take her to a Friday night dance; she said she danced six nights a week anyway. And she’d never expected him to take her to what she laughingly called the ‘fancy pants’ restaurants because she knew that most of what he earned helped support his mother and the two friends who’d aided in raising him. She couldn’t begrudge the money going to women who’d raised one of the few true gentlemen she’d ever met. She’d felt safe enough in his company to take a walk with him the first night they’d met and it became something she looked forward to when he’d get into town.

“’Course I got time to walk,” he enjoyed those strolls as much as she did.

Her two friends hesitated when she told them they could go on without her. She rolled her eyes at them as she said, “This is Heath. I’ve told you about him. I’m perfectly safe in his company.”

There was a moment of reluctance but they finally continued down the walkway, leaving Heath and Elizabeth illuminated by the street lamp. Only when they were out of earshot did he ask her, “What exactly did ya’ tell ‘em about me?”

She linked her arm in his and spoke playfully, “I told them I was perfectly safe in your company.”

“And they believed that?” he laughed as they walked in the opposite direction from her friends.

“I guess they must have,” she laughed with him.

He’d always liked the way she laughed. Not one of those phony girlish giggles. Just a clear, honest laugh. The kind where her brown eyes sparkled and chuckled along. And when she really laughed, she’d throw back her head and her long brown hair would swish over her shoulders and cascade down her back. He was partial to that long wavy look; never had much liked all those pins that held a woman’s hair in place. They were too darn hard to find when you wanted to take them out.

“So you’re just passing through?” she asked after they’d walked in silence for a minute or two.

“Um-hm,” he hummed.

“From where?”

“I’ve been workin’ over in Stockton.”

“Doing what?”

He told her about his mother’s death and how she’d told him who his father was. The arm that had been linked in his reached down to hold his hand while he talked about it and he gave it a slight squeeze as his silent thank-you. She asked and he told her about the Barkleys. He told her about his concern for Mrs. Barkley and the pain he could see in her eyes. About Nick and how he knew that the dark-haired cowboy was torn between believing that Tom Barkley was a perfect man who could do no wrong or a man who was as human as the next. And he confessed that he’d really like to stay at the ranch but was afraid that when they returned from their trip, the friendship they’d enjoyed would vanish as Nick was once again surrounded by the empire that Tom Barkley had built.

“Do family and friendship have to go hand-in-hand for you?” she asked him.

“I don’t s’pose they have to,” he conceded, “but I gotta know that they don’t wake up hurtin’ every day just ‘cause I’m there.”

“If you do leave Stockton,” she said hopefully, “you could always come back to Carson City.”

He nodded and told her, “I’m thinkin’ on it.”

They’d walked several blocks north and then crossed the street to the walkway on the opposite side and strolled back towards the south. The rooming house she lived in was three blocks south and one block west of the Ormsby House on the corner of 9^th and Curry. In the time he’d been seeing her, he’d approached it from all four directions and always had the feeling that the woman who owned it saw him well before he approached the front gate. No matter what the hour – meeting Elizabeth to go out or walking her to the door at the end of the night – Mrs. Johnson would pull the door open as he stepped up onto the porch.

But Elizabeth didn’t want to go home to 9^th and Curry tonight. If Heath stayed in Stockton, this might be the last time she’d see him – and she didn’t feel that they’d said a proper good-bye the first time he’d left. If he DIDN’T stay in Stockton – well, she wanted him to remember that there was a good reason to come back to Carson City. So as they crossed 5^th Street she asked him, “Where are you staying?”

“The Ormsby,” he said simply.

“Oh, you’ve acquired expensive taste!” she laughed.

“I wanted to see what it was like just once,” he admitted.

“I’ve always had that same desire,” she confessed. Then she drew him into the darkened alleyway between the saloon they’d just passed and the Ormsby Hotel they were approaching. “Did you know,” she questioned, “that the Ormsby has a side entrance just down this alley?”

“I believe I recall seein’ a stairway that went somewhere other than the lobby,” he agreed and without even being able to see it in the shadows she knew he was smiling.

A light hand on his chest was all that was needed to back him against the outer wall of the hotel before she stretched up to kiss him, her arms around his shoulders and his at her waist holding her close. When they finally paused to take a breath, she whispered, “I wouldn’t mind finding out where that stairway goes, cowboy.”

“I reckon I wouldn’t mind showin’ ya,” he breathed out just as softly.

He took her hand and led her deeper into the alley where they disappeared into its blackness…

* * * * *

Heath and Mac were both waiting outside the Carson City train depot when Nick arrived from Reno. After having breakfast and walking Elizabeth home on Saturday morning, Heath had continued on to the livery to pick up the horses so he could meet Nick as planned. Mac was just hitching up his wagon to drive into town and pick up some supplies. Together they saddled Magic and Coco, put Buster’s pack in the wagon, then tied all three horses to the back of the wagon and rode into town together. They stopped first at the lumberyard where Heath helped him load the wagon with some planks that would be used to add new stalls to his growing business. And then they stopped at a hardware store where Mac picked up the nails he would need and a couple new tools. Finally, they made their way to the depot, arriving with enough time that they were able to settle Buster’s pack before Nick’s train came in.

Nick greeted both with warm handshakes and Heath wondered at the smile that went with the one he received. Maybe it was just his imagination he was thinking as he heard Nick asking if he’d had a good time in Carson City.

“Had a profitable one,” was all Heath felt like saying at the moment.

“Well, at least one of us won at the poker table,” Nick rationalized, knowing exactly what Heath meant. Then he related, “I had a full house with the biggest pot of the night at stake and got beat by four of a kind. Mac, if you’re joining us for lunch, Heath is buying.”

“Don’t see how I can turn down such a sincere invitation,” Mac accepted with a laugh.

For convenience they went to the restaurant across the street that Nick and Heath had eaten at two days before. It was still a bit early for lunch and only one other table was occupied as they took a table in the far corner of the room. Just as on their previous visit, the service was quick and the food was first-rate. As they ate, Nick decided to press Heath for more details of his stay in Carson City. He’d sensed a bit of evasion as they’d talked about their separate experiences. But then Nick had been evasive as well; he hadn’t yet mentioned Sally.

“So what did you do here in Carson City that you’re not telling me about?” he asked as they neared the end of their meal.

“The most I’m sayin’ is that I ran into an old friend of mine,” Heath refused to elaborate.

With a laugh, Nick finally told him, “I ran into an old friend of yours, too.”

“Really?” Heath frowned. “Who?”

“Sally,” Nick stated almost like it was a bad word. “I thought you said she was an older woman. She couldn’t have been much older than me.”

Heath didn’t seem to understand as he said, “Nick, that WOULD make her an older woman. Leastways to me.”

Nick let out a disgusted breath as he told him, “I thought you meant like – forty.”

“Forty! Nick, I ain’t been with a woman who’s forty since – well – never, I don’t think!”

Nick laughed loudly. “We’ve gotta do something about catching up on your education,” he joked.

“I don’t really think I need your help in that regard, Nick,” Heath shook his head. “So what happened with Sally?”

“Well, I did have some plans – but as soon as I found out she was Sally, I cut out and left her a message that I had to go home to my wife and kids.”

“Your wife and kids?” Heath laughed. “That happened kinda sudden-like.”

“I figured I didn’t want to take any chances,” Nick shrugged. “I gotta admit you have pretty good taste.”

“It scares me to hear that we got the same taste in women,” Heath drawled.

“I don’t know that I’ve got any one particular taste in women,” Nick shook his head. “Brown hair – red hair – black hair – or Sally’s blonde hair and blue eyes – I like ‘em all.”

Heath looked down at his empty plate silently for a moment before gazing over at Nick and asking, almost timidly, “Nick … how mad would ya’ be if I told ya’ Sally has flamin’ red hair and emerald green eyes?”

“She definitely has blonde hair and blue eyes,” Nick argued.

“Maybe the Sally ya’ ran into had blonde hair and blue eyes,” Heath conceded, “but the Sally I’d prefer to avoid has red hair and green eyes.”

“NO!” Nick almost exploded.

“Yeah,” Heath nodded.

“OH … HELL!”

There didn’t seem to be much else to say as Nick pushed back his chair and stood up. Heath and Mac silently followed his example and, as Heath paid for their meal, Nick and Mac went outside to wait for him. Nick was thanking Mac for the care he’d given the horses when Heath rejoined them. Nick gave the older man a quick handshake then left him to Heath, figuring they’d want a private good-bye. But it wasn’t good-bye that Mac was saying.

“Kid, I reckon ya’ were right about havin’ to leave the Barkley Ranch.”

“Why do ya’ say that, Mac?”

“’Cause if ya’ keep tellin’ Nick Barkley stories – you’re gonna have to leave or he’ll kill ya’ when he finds out. Flamin’ red hair and emerald green eyes?” he asked.

“I was just messin’ with his mind. I thought the extra words made it sound kinda real,” Heath shrugged. “Ya’ know – flamin’ and emerald.”

“That ain’t the point I’m makin’, boy! When he finds out she has blonde hair and blue eyes, he’s gonna kill ya’!”

“Well … I … reckon when I tell him the truth … I’ll make sure I’ve got a lotta runnin’ room,” Heath decided.

“Ya’ make sure ya’ got a fast horse ready. And, remember ya’ got friends here in Carson City if ya’ gotta run clear outta California.”

“I’ll remember, Mac,” Heath nodded, smiling.

“Ya’ take care of yourself, boy,” Mac gave him a quick hug with a thump on the back.

As Mac watched Nick and Heath ride away, he was thinking that Heath might not have to worry about taking care of himself. Mac had seen something different at lunch. Something that hadn’t been there two days before. He hoped what he’d seen was a big brother ready to play that part. And a little brother who was eager to let him. Certainly Heath had the little brother part almost down to perfection, Mac thought. He could only hope that Nick was as good at the big brother role.

And he really hoped Nick had a sense of humor because if Heath got any better at that little brother part – that sense of humor might be the one thing that would save Heath’s life.

Chapter 15

George Russell’s ranch was six miles due east of Carson City with the Carson River as both its western and northern boundaries. A few miles outside the city limits, the river wandered north then looped back to the south before curving towards the northeast with the ranch nestled within its twists and turns. Nick and Heath were only a mile east of downtown Carson City on their way to the Russell Ranch when they passed the site of what had once been the Warm Springs Hotel. Built before the Nevada Territory was established in 1861, it was used by the First Territorial Legislature as a meeting hall when Carson City was selected as the territorial capital. A year later the hotel was leased by Nevada Territory as a prison facility and when Nevada became a state by proclamation of President Lincoln in 1864, the State purchased the property as a permanent part of their prison system. Three years later, the original building burned down and was replaced by a proper prison facility that marked the outer reaches of Nevada’s capital city.

The two cowboys surveyed the prison as they approached it. Nick was the one to jokingly ask, “You ever been in one of those?”

“Not one like that,” Heath said distastefully.

Nick confessed with a laugh, “I’ve also spent a night in jail a couple times. Some saloon owners have no sense of humor when you’ve broken up their place. What did you do to get thrown in?”

“I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It ain’t worth talkin’ about.”

“It had something to do with a lady, didn’t it?”

“I said it ain’t worth talkin’ about,” Heath repeated, a bit angrily.

“Okay,” Nick agreed. “Just trying to make conversation.”

“Well, there are better things to talk about. Like the horses. Did ya’ get them sent off okay?”

“Of course. Did you send the telegram?”

“Of course.”

“You changed it before you sent it, didn’t you?”

“No,” Heath shook his head.

“Yes, you did,” Nick laughed. “You didn’t send it the way I wrote it.”

“Was there somethin’ in particular ya’ wanted me to leave out of it?”

Nick thought about it for a moment. Then he just smiled and said, “No, I don’t suppose there was. It was all true.”

“So that part about not killin’ me … yet,” Heath emphasized the last word, “does that mean you’re plannin’ to do it before we get back to Stockton?”

“I kinda thought I’d let you live,” Nick joked.

“I’m relieved to hear that.”

“Thought you might be,” Nick agreed with a smile. And then they both fell silent.

Between the prison and the Carson River was landscape so diverse as to include grassy valleys, desert plains and hills that would eventually give way to mountains only five or six miles beyond the river. As they rode along in companionable quiet, Nick wondered if this wasn’t the perfect time to broach the subject of Heath staying at the ranch when they got back to Stockton. But the more he wondered about it, the more he was able to talk himself out of it. It wasn’t all that far to the Russell Ranch and he didn’t want to start something that they wouldn’t have time to finish. Besides, George Russell was the one person they’d be dealing with who already knew Heath. And maybe Heath didn’t want him to know he was a Barkley. If Nick pushed it – maybe it would just make things worse. And then Heath would, for sure, want to leave.

Heath’s thoughts were running along a similar line. He wondered if this was a good time to ask Nick if he wanted him to leave. Maybe Mac had been right, he thought. Maybe he SHOULD ask him. Especially since he’d been planning to find out how serious George was when he’d told him he could come back at any time and there’d be a job for him. If Nick wanted him to stay in Stockton … well, there’d be no need to talk to George about a job. But how stupid was that, he chided himself. What could possibly have changed in a day?

So, as they approached the river, neither said a word about what Heath planned to do when they got back to the Barkley Ranch – although it was the uppermost thought on both their minds.

“Soon as we cross the river, we’re on the Russell Ranch,” Heath told Nick. “The ranch house is about two miles east of here. This is as good a place to cross as we’ll find.”

Heath led the way down the grassy slope into the river that was, perhaps, only fifty feet wide and no deeper than three feet where they chose to cross. He nudged Magic into the water and Buster followed, the lead line hooked over the saddlehorn in front of Heath. Nick brought up the rear, waiting until Heath was halfway across before urging Coco to follow, then hurrying to catch up when they hit the grassy slope on the opposite side. He had to admit that it was beautiful country. He couldn’t deny that someone could easily want to settle down here but objectively – if a Barkley could be objective about it – the Barkley Ranch was just as beautiful. No reason someone wouldn’t want to settle down there just as much, Nick had to believe.

It wasn’t long before they found themselves following a road that ran north and south. It eventually bridged the river where it looped back to the south with the road to the ranch branching off just as the river turned back towards the northeast. Following that branch of the road, it was only another fifteen minutes before the Spanish-style ranch house came into view, on a plateau overlooking the rolling river. Two large stables were set well to the rear of the house and white fencing could be seen dividing the pasture behind the stables into several corrals.

“The river flooded last year,” Heath told Nick as they rode up the lane that led to the house. “A lot of the ranch was flooded with it. The house and stables were high and dry. George bought the land from the previous owner while it was flooded almost thirty years ago. The man’s house was in a shaded grove and the first floor was under four feet of water. He sold it for pennies on the dollar. The land up here was about the only dry part of the property so that’s where George built.”

“I met him a few years back when he was passing through Stockton,” Nick related. “Kinda struck me as the sensible type.”

“George is a good man,” Heath said fondly, as the subject of their conversation came into view, leaning on one of the fences and watching three men who were trying to put a saddle on an uncooperative horse.

At the sound of approaching horses, Russell turned around and left no doubt that he recognized his visitors. Or at least one of them.

“Heath!” he sounded happy to greet him. “It’s good to see you, boy!” he gave him the same sort of bear hug that Mac had applied when he’d first seen him. “I’ve been wondering if I’d see you again!”

Nick cleared his throat.

“Uh … George … you know Nick Barkley,” Heath sort of nodded in his direction.

“Oh, don’t tell me you hooked up with the Barkleys,” George groaned.

“Yeah, he’s hooked up with the Barkleys,” Nick said as he approached. “George, it’s good to see you again. Sorry we had to bypass you our first time through. Had to be in Reno by Thursday. Hope it wasn’t an inconvenience to you.”

“No, one day is the same as the next,” George assured him. “And today DOES work to your advantage. I’ve got some men headed over to Modesto with some horses tomorrow. If you find anything you’re interested in, they’ll be able to take ‘em along for you.”

“This is our last stop,” Nick told him. “We’d welcome the company on the ride home.”

“Well…” George hesitated, “I mentioned to Aaron Whitaker over near Dayton that you’d be by here today. He said if you wanted to stop by his place tomorrow he has some horses you might be interested in. He said, even though it’ll be Sunday, you could come by any time – he’s not a church-going man.”

“And where’s Dayton?” Nick wanted to know.

“It’s about eight miles upriver on the other side. His ranch is a couple miles beyond that on this side of the river. It’s not too big but he’s got some good breeding stock. I’ve bought a few horses from him myself.”

“We ARE making better time than I thought we would. And our first stop was a wasted one,” Nick conceded, “so I suppose we could add another stop to our journey. You got any pressing reason you need to get back to Stockton?” he asked Heath in a teasing tone.

“You’re the boss, Nick. If you say we go to Dayton,” Heath shrugged, “we go to Dayton.”

“I think I’ll hold off deciding ‘til I see what George is peddling,” Nick glanced at him.

“Right this way,” George invited with a wave of his arm. And then the same arm wrapped itself around Heath’s shoulders as he directed him towards one of the corrals and Nick wasn’t very happy to hear the older man ask, “So what have you been up to, boy? And when are you coming back to work for me?”

* * * * *

The day didn’t get a whole lot better, although Nick DID buy three mares. He silently fumed every time he saw George make an inaudible comment to Heath. He was sure the other rancher was pressing his case, trying to get Heath to return to Carson City. Nick just wanted to get the boy out of there and talk some sense into him. But then George invited them to stay for supper and told them he had a guestroom they could spend the night in. Nick tried to beg off by telling him they had to go back to Carson City so he could send a telegram to Jarrod letting him know that there were more horses on the way.

“Seems to me that would be a waste of time, son. Isabella and I are riding into Carson City for church in the morning and we always stay in town for lunch on Sunday. The telegraph office doesn’t open ‘til noon anyway on the Lord’s Day. From here you could already be at the Whitaker place by then. I’ll send the telegram for you,” George tried to persuade him.

“Makes sense to me, Nick,” Heath added his voice to George’s.

“It DOES appear to be a better plan than riding all the way back to Carson City just to send a telegram,” Nick had to agree. “I’ll write it out for you before we leave in the morning.”

“Good! Then how about a drink before supper?” George suggested.

Again the arm went around Heath’s shoulders as George directed them towards the house and Nick wasn’t at all pleased to, once more, see a conversation taking place that he wasn’t able to hear. Oh, he DID have to have a talk with that boy! And the sooner the better, he resolved. It would be the first thing Nick would do once he got Heath out of George Russell’s clutches. And until he could do that – well, he sure as hell wasn’t going to give them the chance for any more private conversations, he decided as he watched them with suspicious eyes.

A laugh from Heath made him realize that he’d broken that resolution in record time. He hurried after them and took up a position at Heath’s side – a position he didn’t plan to relinquish until they were off the ranch in the morning!

* * * * *

Nick and Heath joined George and Isabella Russell for breakfast on Sunday morning and Nick was happy to find that the discussion during the meal had nothing to do with Heath leaving Stockton. In fact, it was about their two daughters who’d be returning home in a month after spending two years back East in school. By the time they finished breakfast, Nick was beginning to think that the topic of Heath returning to George’s employ was buried. But as they were bidding each other good-bye in the yard behind the house, Isabella reached over, patted Heath’s arm, and said, “I must confess that I always felt you’d be the perfect young man for either Charlotte or Grace. Perhaps you’ll have the chance to meet them soon.”

He’d put a stop to that notion real fast, Nick decided. Laughing, he said, “You don’t know him as well as you should if you’d trust your daughters to him. Why I could tell you stories that would…”

“Nick, they don’t need to hear any of your stories,” Heath cut him short.

“We probably don’t have time for stories anyway,” Nick suggested. “We really should get moving.”

They’d already seen the men on their way with the horses an hour before. Now they bid good-bye to the Russells, who climbed into their carriage as Nick and Heath mounted their horses. Heath again took charge of Buster as they followed the carriage down the lane to the road. As the Russells turned towards the west and Carson City, Nick and Heath headed east towards Dayton. Only when Nick looked back over his shoulder and saw the carriage disappear around a bend in the road did he dare to hope that they’d gotten out of there before too much damage was done.

They’d ridden about a mile when Nick decided it was now or never. He slowed Coco and let the blond cowboy catch up to him before he asked, “Mind if we talk?”

“’Course not, Nick,” Heath laughed, thinking Nick’s usual approach was just to start talking.

When Heath made no attempt to actually stop, Nick rephrased his question. “You mind if we stop and talk?”

Heath looked over to find that Nick had stopped his horse. He did the same.

“So what do ya’ want to talk about?” Heath asked as they both dismounted.

They led the horses off the road to the shade of a tree and only when they sat down on some rocks was the question answered.

“Did you talk to George about coming back here to work for him?” Nick wanted to know.

“We talked about it,” Heath admitted.

“What did you tell him?”

“That I’m thinkin’ about it,” the younger man stated as though it should be obvious.

“So you’re still thinking about it, huh?”

“I could do worse than Carson City,” Heath said defensively. Then he smiled slightly and said, “I could do a whole lot worse than Carson City.”

“You could do a whole lot better,” Nick countered, his anger beginning to show.

“Not from where I stand,” Heath shook his head. “He made me a good offer.”

“I just DON’T understand you!” Nick yelled. “You must be the most pig-headed little brother on the face of this earth!”

“Nick, we agreed before we left Stockton that it would be a good idea for me to … WHAT?”

“You heard me,” Nick stated emphatically. “I said you’re pig-headed.”

“Yeah…” Heath said slowly, nodding. “I heard that part. It’s … the couple words after it that I’m not sure I heard right.”

“You heard me,” Nick repeated, looking directly into those blue Barkley eyes. “I said you’re the most pig-headed little brother on the face of this earth. Heath, I … uh …” he took a deep breath then said in a rush, “I don’t want you to leave Stockton. I don’t want you to leave the ranch.”

Heath looked at him silently.

“Well?” Nick asked. “You don’t really wanna leave, do you?”

Still the blond cowboy said nothing.

“Heath, I know I said that no one could ever convince me that you’re my brother. And I know I said I wanted you to leave. But I don’t feel that way anymore. I want you to stay. I want you to help me run the ranch.”

Heath finally broke his silence to ask, “Why?”

Nick started laughing. “I don’t know how to answer that,” he shook his head. “I’ve changed my mind – it’s as simple as that. You’re kinda growing on me, boy.”

“That’s easy to say out here, Nick. But … I don’t wanna tell ya’ I’m stayin’ and then have ya’ change your mind when we get back to Stockton.”

“I kinda thought we’ve been getting along pretty good.”

“Out here we have – but if that’s why ya’ want me to stay…”

“I want you to stay because you’re my brother.”

“I guess I gotta ask ‘why’ again. Why do ya’ believe it now and ya’ didn’t believe it a week ago?”

It was a moment before Nick responded, almost reluctantly, “I saw the picture. Heath, I didn’t wanna believe that my father even knew your mother. And if he didn’t know her – well, you couldn’t exactly be my brother if they’d never met each other. But the morning we left Strawberry – Rachel invited me to go in and have a cup of coffee while I waited for you. I saw the pictures lying there and the one on top was the one of you with your teeth missing. I started laughing because I was wishing I’d been the one to knock ‘em out,” he confessed. “So I picked ‘em up and started looking at ‘em – I thought they were just family pictures. You and your mother. And then I saw the one of Father and your mother. Heath, if you’ve had that picture all along, why didn’t you show it to us?”

“I didn’t have it all along. The first time I saw it was the night before you saw it.”

“You weren’t gonna show it to me, were you?”

“No,” the blond shook his head.

“Why not?”

Heath thought about it for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain it. Finally, he said, “’Cause maybe I didn’t care when I got to Stockton but I do now. I don’t want to change the way ya’ feel about your father.”

“He’s your father, too.”

“Well, I ain’t as proud of that fact as you are.”

“Well, I ain’t as proud of that fact as I used to be,” Nick echoed him. “Heath, I don’t know why it happened the way it did and even if I did know, there’s nothing I could do to change anything that’s already happened. But think about what we could do together in the future. That ranch wasn’t meant to be run by one person. I need my little brother by my side, helping me run it.”

“Ya’ know Eugene ain’t never gonna do that,” Heath stated.

“And you know I’m not talking about Eugene,” Nick said disgustedly. “Gene is Jarrod’s little brother. Those two are just alike – they want the same things in their life. And you and I are just alike. That ranch is exactly what we both want. Tell me you don’t wanna settle down,” he challenged. “Tell me you don’t wanna be part of a family. And tell me you don’t wanna help me run the Barkley Ranch.”

“Tell me why a single picture made ya’ change your mind,” Heath said stubbornly.

“It wasn’t just the picture,” the dark-haired cowboy shook his head. “That was just the start of it. No one says it to you, Heath, because they know how you feel about Father – but there are a lot of resemblances that others have noticed and I’ve done my best to deny ‘em. But once I saw the picture, I started seeing those other little things that everyone else saw right away.”

“Like what?”

“You’ve got Uncle John’s eyes,” Nick told him, not wanting to mention a resemblance to their father as the first thing. “And when you laugh – it sounds just like Father.”

“Well now ya’ve got me never wantin’ to laugh again,” Heath muttered.

“You might wanna quit walking, too,” Nick said drily, “because there’s something about the way you walk that makes me think of Father.”

“Instead of quittin’, if ya’ don’t mind, I’ll just try to change the way I walk.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to change your mind about walking away from the ranch,” Nick got back to the real issue. “Will you stay?”

Still Heath hesitated.

“Heath – what is there to think about?”

“Nick, you’re offering me everythin’ I ever wanted my life to be – includin’ havin’ a big brother – but I keep wonderin’ if it’s still gonna be this way when we get back there.”

“I can only give you my word. I don’t know what else to say,” he shook his head. “We can take it a step at a time. You don’t have to commit to the rest of your life. Just promise when we get back that you won’t turn around and leave to take that job with George. Promise me you’ll give us some time to work things out.”

Heath considered the request for a moment before nodding his head. “Okay. I won’t leave to take a job with George. And I’ll give us the time to try to figure things out.”

“Okay, then!” Nick stood up. “You’ll see! The Barkley brothers are going to make the Barkley Ranch known clear across this country!” He extended his hand to Heath and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, little brother,” he put his arm around his shoulders just as George Russell had done. “Let’s go see a man about some horses.”

Heath was almost too stunned to say anything. Nick had actually called him ‘brother’ more than once. Of course he’d also called him pig-headed more than once, he thought with a bit of a smile.

“What are you smiling about?” Nick asked when they’d remounted and he glanced over at him.

“I was just thinkin’ how ya’ said that you and I are just alike.”

“And you find that funny?”

“Well, Nick … ya’ DID say I was pig-headed.”

“So what’s your point?”

“Nothin’, Nick,” he laughed. “Nothin’ at all.”

* * * * *

The Whitaker ranch wasn’t nearly as grand as those of Jack Franklin or George Russell. But it was well maintained and the few horses they could see as they rode up substantiated George’s claim that the man had good breeding stock. Heath took notice of one in particular and pointed it out as they rode past the first of three small corrals. Just as he’d suggested in Reno, he told Nick, “Ya’ want that stallion, Nick.”

“Do I?” Nick repeated his question of three days before.

“If you’re smart, ya’ do.”

They stopped in front of the stable and were tethering their horses to the hitching rail when a man of about George Russell’s age approached them.

“Nick Barkley?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Nick walked over to shake his hand.

“Aaron Whitaker,” the man introduced himself. “I’m glad you were able to make it out here. I hope I have something to interest you.”

“Actually, I think you already do,” Nick laughed slightly, thinking that Heath’s prediction had been right in Reno so why not here.

“Well, whatever it is that’s caught your eye, I’m sure we can work something out,” Whitaker seemed agreeable as Heath joined them.

As Whitaker reached out to shake Heath’s hand, it was Nick who made the introduction. “Mr. Whitaker,” he said, “this is my brother, Heath.”

Chapter 16

The Whitaker Ranch may have been small but Aaron Whitaker had made it as self-sufficient as he could to feed a family that included his wife and six children. They raised cows, pigs and chickens for both the milk and eggs they gave and the meat they provided. A couple fields were set aside for planting a variety of vegetables as the seasons permitted. A small grove of apple trees and a garden-sized patch of strawberries and blackberries provided all manner of taste treats in the hands of Lydia Whitaker – and skillful hands they were, as the Barkley brothers would soon find out.

They’d seen all of it in the first fifteen minutes they’d been there as Whitaker escorted them to a pasture unseen from the road where a number of horses grazed lazily or sprinted from end to end almost as though looking for the way out. “We just brought those three in on Friday,” Whitaker explained of the three most active horses. “I haven’t had the chance to work with any of them yet.” He gave the Stockton cowboys a minute as he saw them surveying the animals in the pasture. After a moment he said, “I know you’ve been to a couple other ranches before mine so you may already have bought what you want on this trip but I appreciate you giving me the chance to show you what I have.”

“We could still use another mare or two,” Nick suggested, “and I think my little brother has his eye on one of your stallions.”

“I’m sure we can work something out. I hope you’re not in a hurry, though. My wife has already insisted that you join us for the noon meal – and I believe we’ll be eating shortly. That noise approaching means the family is back from church.”

They all turned around to watch as two young boys raced towards them along a dirt path that ran between two fields. Behind them an even younger boy followed in their wake, the distance between them growing as the race to be the first to reach their father heated up. In short order three boys had their arms wrapped around the man and the Barkley brothers had met Mark, Luke and John.

“Would it be too much of a stretch to suggest we’ll be meeting Matthew shortly?” Nick asked only half-jokingly.

“My wife is partial to biblical names,” Whitaker smiled. “I expect Matthew is taking care of the horses and wagon. Boys,” he addressed his sons, “go wash up and tell your mother that the Barkleys WILL be joining us for lunch. We’ll be along shortly,” he chased them away.

It appeared that competition was standard fare for the Whitaker brothers as they charged back towards the house with the same enthusiasm they’d put into the race to reach their father. “So are there more than the four Gospels?” Nick asked as the three men walked back towards the house in a more sedate manner.

“Two daughters. Sarah and Rebecca – the oldest and the youngest. And then the four boys in between. I’ll have Matthew bring a few of the mares down from the pasture after we eat. Which stallion are you interested in?” he looked over at Heath.

“The bay in your front corral.”

Whitaker sort of shook his head. “If you’d gotten here a bit later he’d be gone.”

“Who bought him?” Nick wondered if he knew the buyer.

“Didn’t sell him. I’m shooting him. There’s no way to break that one.”

“Then why not just let him go?” Heath wanted to know.

“Can’t do that – he’s too dangerous. Protects the herd by attacking. Between our ranch and two others, five men were injured going after him and I’ve had one more hurt just trying to get near him in the corral. He’s a magnificent animal but we can’t afford to have him out on the range.”

“How much do you want for him?” Nick asked.

“I couldn’t do that to you, Nick,” Whitaker laughed. “We only brought him in because three of my men managed to get ropes on him at the same time. But we made the mistake of taking those ropes off when we got him in the corral two days ago. Since then he won’t let anyone in the corral with him and I’m sure not asking any more men to take the chance after I’ve already had one injured trying. It’s not worth it to them or me. I’ve only got five men working for me. Don’t want to take the chance of putting anymore of them out of commission.”

“If we could get in there and put a rope on him, how much do you want for him?” Nick repeated his question.

“Why don’t we discuss it after we eat,” Whitaker suggested. “You’ll have the chance to get a closer look at him then and see what I mean.”

Didn’t matter, Heath thought as he gazed across the yard at the corral that held the stallion. A closer look wouldn’t change his mind. He’d told Nick that he was going to want that horse but, in truth, Heath wanted him, too. And he hoped Nick wanted him just as much because one of them was going to have to convince Whitaker that the stallion was worth saving.

Nick looked over at his newly accepted brother and could see the desire in his eyes. Well, he thought, he couldn’t very well welcome him to the family and then immediately disagree with him about the horse. He’d have to do his best to convince Whitaker that the horse was worth saving. And then hope Heath could work his magic with the animal – because if Whitaker was right, getting a rope on him could take a feat of magic and magic had never been a specialty of Nick’s.

* * * * *

Both brothers had been surprised to meet Lydia Whitaker. While Aaron was probably in his mid-fifties, Lydia didn’t look as though she’d reached forty yet. Their children ranged in age from eighteen-year-old Sarah to three-year-old Rebecca and seemed to come at three-year intervals. Matthew, the oldest son, was fifteen and clearly shared his father’s interest in ranching. He asked endless questions over lunch about the Barkley Ranch. Six-year-old John seemed lost in the shuffle of so many children as he did his best to emulate Mark and Luke who, at twelve and nine, appeared to spend most of their time competing. Everything they did gave the impression of being a competition, whether it was the previously witnessed foot race or a contest to see who could consume their food the fastest. Lydia apologized to Nick and Heath more than once for the behavior of her two middle children while Aaron brushed it off by saying, “I’m sure Nick and Heath know all about competing with each other. They can’t be much further apart in age than Mark and Luke.”

He was just trying to be nice, the Barkleys both realized, so neither felt the need to tell him that they’d only been brothers for a few hours. Besides, they had other things to worry about. As far as they could tell, Sarah Whitaker wasn’t sure if she was partial to dark-haired or blond-haired cowboys because each had been the recipient of flirtatious smiles from across the table when she was sure her parents’ attention was focused elsewhere. Good thing Rebecca was still at the hiding-behind-mama’s-skirt stage – but the shy smiles they glimpsed as she peeked out from behind the woman said she might have perfected the art of flirting at a very young age. Nick had just laughed at the little girl saying he remembered his sister, Audra, doing exactly the same thing at that age. Heath, he noticed after that, took a curious interest in the child’s behavior.

What Nick didn’t realize was that Heath had taken a curious interest in the entire family’s behavior. He wondered if the Whitaker boys were anything like Jarrod and Nick had been when they were younger. And he wondered if Eugene had always struggled to be like his older brothers. He couldn’t help questioning what his place would have been in that family. Would he have competed with Nick as Luke did with Mark? Or would he have tagged after Jarrod and Nick as poor John was probably destined to do for years to come. Of one thing he was sure – John and little Rebecca had a close relationship and he was sure it would have been that way with him and Audra. Their friendship had been the one that came first. He and Audra had the sort of relationship he imagined siblings should have. That thought had him glancing sideways at Nick and wondering if they’d someday be more than brothers in name only. Oddly enough, the insanity of a family with six children, trying to get through a meal with some semblance of order, made him desperately want to be part of a family. He hoped that Nick really meant it when he said he wanted Heath by his side running the ranch because sitting in the middle of this family, Heath wanted that more than he ever thought he could.

“’Scuse me?” he looked up, realizing the room had gone quiet and someone had spoken his name.

It was Aaron Whitaker who repeated his question. “Nick says he thinks you can get a rope on that stallion out front. I was asking how you thought you might do that.”

Before Heath could answer, Nick laughed and told him, “Heath has more of a way with horses than he does with women. He sweet talks ‘em.”

“Well, son, if that’s the case,” Whitaker laughed along with Nick, “you may have met your match this time. He’s an ornery one.”

“As long as you don’t mind lettin’ me try,” Heath drawled, “I’ve got some special words I save for the ornery ones.”

“Don’t mind letting you try one bit,” the older man agreed. “None of us really want to see that horse put down. Just didn’t see an alternative.”

“I’ll do my best to save ya’ from havin’ to do that,” Heath promised.

It was only a few short minutes later that Whitaker, seeing empty plates around the table and hearing no one asking for another helping, excused his brood and suggested that the Barkley brothers join him in getting that closer look at the bay stallion. After thanking Lydia Whitaker for the meal, Nick and Heath joined Aaron on his trek to the corral and found that there was to be an audience. It appeared that the whole family, minus Rebecca who’d fallen asleep at the table, was interested in seeing if Heath could even get inside the corral with what they’d been calling ‘the rogue horse’.

Nick knew that Heath would be too polite to ask the family to keep their distance so he did it for him. He figured that’s what a big brother would do when his little brother was about to stick his head in the mouth of a lion. So as they approached the corral nearest the house he told the family, “I’d be much obliged if you’d all just wait here by this corral. Too much extra noise might be distracting for the horse.”

While Nick, Heath and Aaron proceeded to the far corral, the rest of the Whitaker family took up positions along the first fence. The three older boys climbed up to sit on the top railing. John stood on the second rail from the bottom with his head just peaking over the rail his brothers sat on. And Lydia and Sarah simply leaned on the rail John peaked over to watch the activity in the far corral.

As they approached the corral, Nick put an arm around Heath’s shoulders and asked quietly, “You DO think you can get a rope on him, right?”

“I’ve studied him a bit. And I’ve seen horses that can’t be broke. But he ain’t one of ‘em,” Heath said confidently. “Might take a few minutes longer than usual but, long as you’re not in a hurry, I ‘spect I can manage it.” He started for the far side of the corral then thought better of it and looked back at Nick to say, “Ya’ gotta promise me a couple things, though.”

“And what’s that?” Nick asked suspiciously.

“Ya’ gotta promise to stay outta the corral – unless I’m laying on the ground and ain’t movin’…”

“Yeah … yeah,” Nick breathed out. “And…?”

“And if ya’ gotta say anythin’ while I’m in there…” Heath once again headed around the corral, “…try to whisper.”

“I’ll whisper,” Nick said disgustedly.

“Then I’ll eventually get a rope on him for ya’,” Heath looked back over his shoulder with a bit of a grin. “But this visit is just to get acquainted. No point in puttin’ a rope on him yet. We’ve still got those mares to look at.”

“Hold on just a minute,” Nick stopped him before he could go too far. He turned his attention back to Whitaker and asked, just to be sure, “So if Heath can get a rope on him and we can lead him outta there, you’ll sell him to us, right?”

“I’m not playing with words, Nick. He’s yours if you can get him outta there without turning him loose. In fact, as I was planning to put him down, you can have him for nothing if he’ll go with you peaceable. But I’ve gotta say it again – six men on three ranches have been injured by him. My guy is laid up for a couple weeks maybe. Damn thing put him into the fence. We dragged him out under it just short of him being stomped. I’d hate to have to send your mother a telegram telling her that her son is coming home hurt,” Whitaker said only half-seriously.

“No need to worry about that,” Nick assured him. “I’ve already promised to stay outta the corral. Heath’s the only one who’ll be going in.”

Heath turned sharply when he heard the comment. He knew he wasn’t really Mrs. Barkley’s son but Nick didn’t have to be quite so obvious in his distain for Heath’s position in the family. Especially after proclaiming that he wanted to be brothers!

But then Nick sort of laughed and told Whitaker, “Mother expects Heath to come home hurt. She’d be disappointed if I brought him home in one piece,” he joked. “But I expect you won’t have to worry about that telegram. My little brother really does have a way with horses.”

“Well … he’s your brother. I’ll trust that you both know what you’re talking about,” Whitaker may have still had a healthy dose of skepticism in his words but at least they knew he wouldn’t stop Heath from making an attempt to get into the corral.

Nick and Aaron waited on the side of the corral while Heath walked around it. He wanted the horse’s attention on him and away from anyone who was watching. He stopped about midway down the far side of the corral and started talking softly to the stallion that had been standing quietly when they left the house but had become agitated as they approached. Heath didn’t mind getting into the corral once the horse had stopped running. As long as it was standing in one place, even rearing up on its hind legs, he could stay clear of it. But when the horse was moving around the corral it was too unpredictable. So he preferred to start talking to the horse before he’d even climbed onto the fence.

It really didn’t mean anything – he could have been reciting a nursery rhyme his mother had taught him. But it made him feel more connected to actually say something that made sense so he started by apologizing. “I’m sorry they brought you in here,” he said as the horse ran back and forth past him, “and I’m even sorrier they won’t let you go. But I’m not sorry that I’m the one who’s gonna be takin’ ya’ outta here. Well – me and my brother. I like sayin’ that because I ain’t ever been able to say it aloud before. Ya’ don’t know Nick but I hope ya’ll get the chance on the way home. He can be real blustery – that’s a word my Mama liked. Anyway, if I’d ever said out loud that he was my brother – b’fore today, that is – I don’t reckon I’d like to guess what he mighta tried to do to me.”

Heath had never analyzed what he did when he gentled a horse. He’d been doing it in one form or another since the first time he’d worked with horses. He’d never had any trouble with the animals that were stabled at Mr. Flynn’s livery. They’d always seemed to respond to a soft word and a kind touch. He thought that was the way everyone handled horses. Only when he was a bit older did he realize that maybe it was something special. As a boy he liked to think that he’d been given this way with horses – with most animals – as a gift to make up for what he hadn’t been given in his life. As a young man, he thought of it simply as luck. He was lucky to have something that made him valuable to those who bred and marketed their horses. And he never wanted to analyze it because he figured if he thought about it too much he might lose the natural ability that it seemed to be. But he HAD considered that what appeared to calm a horse down – a soft conversation – might really be the horse giving in to curiosity. He knew that a person who wanted to hear what another was saying would quiet down to listen. Maybe horses did the same. Maybe they didn’t really understand the meaning of what he was saying – but they seemed to want to hear it and they’d calm down to listen.

The frantic back and forth movement had stopped and the horse was standing in the approximate center of the corral when Heath climbed onto the fence and sat on the top rail. Still talking. Still using caution as the horse reared up on its hind legs. It was no longer what he thought of as an angry action; it was almost a boastful action. Like the horse was telling Heath that he was in charge and Heath was only sitting there in front of him because the steed was allowing it.

“I know,” Heath said softly. “I ain’t comin’ any nearer ‘til ya’ say it’s okay. I may be pigheaded – leastways accordin’ to my big brother – but I ain’t stupid. I’ll stay right here ‘til I got your say so to move.”

The horse’s front hooves thudded to the ground then he swung around into a sudden gallop that took him to the far end of the corral in only five or six strides. An abrupt stop, only inches from the fence, raised a small cloud of dust before he wheeled around and galloped back to the center of the corral. He stood there looking over at the blond cowboy and Heath took that as consent to step down into the corral. He dropped to the ground and waited a moment to see what the horse would do. When he only stood and stared, Heath took a few steps closer.

“You are truly impressive,” he continued talking as he walked, “and I wish I could make ya’ understand that comin’ with me is the only option ya’ got. It ain’t a bad option. ‘Specially if you consider the alternative – which I ain’t gonna mention out loud quite yet ‘cause I don’t want ya’ thinkin’ I’m threatenin’ ya’. That would be the last thing I’d ever do to a creature so beautiful.”

He was within about six feet of the stallion when it repeated its earlier action. It turned away and broke into a quick gallop that ended with that same small cloud of dust. This time he stood at the end of the corral for several seconds before charging back at Heath.

He ain’t gonna hurt me … he ain’t gonna hurt me … he ain’t gonna hurt me … was all that ran through Heath’s mind as the horse came straight at him – and then stopped just feet away. “Ya’ know this could be fun,” the blond cowboy chuckled lightly to the horse. “Ya’ see that guy standin’ by the fence lookin’ like he knows what I’m doin’? He ain’t really got any idea what we’re talkin’ about. For all he knows, I could be askin’ ya’ for your recipe for apple pie. Not that he’s really stupid enough to think a horse can make apple pie – but ya’ get my meanin’, right? Just about the only thing he does know is that you’re a whole lot bigger than me and could prob’ly do a lotta damage if ya’ wanted. So if ya’ wanna show off a little, now would be a good time. If you just kinda rear up a bit, I’ll bet we could see how fast he can move,” he suggested.

The stallion just stood quietly looking at him as Heath took a step closer.

“His name is Nick,” he told the stallion, “and just today – for the first time ever – he called me his brother. A week ago I’da bet he’d never have said it. But somethin’ musta come over him ‘cause he even made me stop ridin’ to listen to what he had to say. Can’t say as I mind, though. He ain’t a bad guy once ya’ get to know him. Which ya’ will if ya’ come with us. And that’s really my way of leadin’ up to the rope I’m gonna have to bring in here later. If I don’t put that rope around ya’ so we can lead ya’ outta here – that guy standin’ next to Nick is gonna shoot ya’. And I’m sorry for sayin’ it straight out like that – but it’s the plain truth and there ain’t no way out. Today seems to be a day for makin’ promises. I promised Nick I wouldn’t leave the ranch to take a job with George Russell – ya’ don’t know him so the name don’t matter – it’s the promise that matters. I don’t make promises and break ‘em so I guess I won’t be leavin’ the ranch for Carson City. And I’ll make ya’ this promise – if ya’ come back to Stockton with us and ya’ don’t like it – I’ll let ya’ go. There’s a lotta open range near Stockton and if ya’ wanna run free there, I ain’t gonna try to keep ya’ penned in. I know what it’s like to wanna be free when someone else has ya’ penned in – and I won’t let that happen to ya’ as long as ya’ come with us quietly today.”

Heath took two more steps and this time held out his hand to the horse that, to the astonishment of those watching, was calmly listening to whatever the cowboy was saying to him. The horse nudged his hand and Heath took that as permission to make contact himself. He lightly rubbed his hand down the horse’s face then took one more step closer to pat the side of his neck. The horse tossed his head and playfully nudged Heath’s shoulder.

“We’ll have time for playin’ later,” Heath told him. “Nick and I have some mares to look at. Ya’ got any particular type ya’ favor? I might try to find ya’ one.” Then he laughed. “Nick says he ain’t got any one particular type – but I’ve gotta say he was dancin’ with one a couple weeks ago at the Friday social that looked like she’d be more your type than his type. He musta lost a bet to be dancin’ with her. He ain’t too lucky when it comes to bettin’. And I should know ‘cause I’ve put a lotta his money in my pocket over the poker table. But we’ll talk more about that later – I gotta get to those mares right now. Ya’ just stay calm and I’ll be back in a little bit with that rope we talked about.”

He started to back away and the horse followed. He’d expected that he would. They usually did once they realized that the person next to them was of the non-threatening variety. He kept backing away and finally decided on one last test of the connection they’d seemed to make. He turned his back on the horse to walk the last six or seven feet and was relieved to feel the horse nudge his shoulder again. Not one to leave a friendly gesture unanswered, he faced the animal again and rubbed his hand over his nose as he promised, “I’ll be back.”

As though he understood, the horse turned and calmly trotted away. Only then did Heath climb over the corral fence and drop to the ground on the other side. He rounded the fence to rejoin Nick and Aaron and the older rancher greeted him by saying, “Son, that is without a doubt the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen! I guess I don’t doubt you’ll get that rope on him – so as of now he belongs to the Barkley Ranch. And I thank you for sparing us from having to put him down.”

“Well, the good news for you is that I had to promise him a mare to get him to agree to come peaceable-like. So Nick has to buy at least one from ya’,” Heath joked.

“Nick is gonna buy at least two horses from him,” Nick stated firmly. “You set a fair price for the stallion,” he told Whitaker, “and we’ll buy him from you. Regardless of what you were going to do with him – you spent all the time catching him and you deserve to be paid for that at least. So name your price and we’ll start from there.”

“I’ll think on it while you’re looking at the mares,” Whitaker agreed as the rest of the family joined them.

“Oh, Mr. Barkley!” Sarah didn’t hesitate to link her arm in Heath’s. “That was the most remarkable thing I’ve ever seen! Why, I thought that animal was just a wild beast!” she said dramatically. “But he’d have eaten right from your hand! Such a gentle hand,” she reached down to grip his hand in both of hers. “You must tell me how you do that!”

“Well … like Nick says … I just sweet talk ‘em,” Heath said quietly, looking over her head at his brother.

Nick was grinning from ear to ear but he saw the look on Heath’s face and decided that it was too soon in this brotherly relationship of theirs to leave Heath in the clutches of this histrionic female. So he said, “Well he might have some time for that a bit later but I want him to look at those mares with me right now. Sorry to have to take him away from you like this.”

In the end, they bought a single mare and Whitaker gave in on selling the stallion rather than giving him away. The rope turned out to be almost a disappointment to those who watched. Heath carried the coiled rope over to the corral and sat on the fence. The stallion walked right up to him and let the blond cowboy put it over his head. He then stepped down into the corral and led the horse out. The line was tied to the saddle horn on Magic’s saddle and Heath mounted up next to Nick who was already seated on Coco’s back with Buster and the new mare on a tether line.

As they turned off the lane that led away from the ranch and onto the road that skirted the Carson River, Nick looked over at Heath and asked, “So is that what it’s gonna be like being your big brother? Am I gonna have to be rescuing you from damsels for the rest of your life?”

“The way I understand it, Nick, brothers either fight over ‘em or rescue each other from ‘em.”

“And who told ya’ that?”

“Well – I don’t know how your Mr. Tennyson would write about it. And I suspect from what Mama read me of Mr. Shakespeare work, he’d say brothers fight over ‘em. But from my own readin’ – I’d say the best books favor rescuin’ over fightin’.”

“The best books?” Nick laughed. “What do you read other than dime novels?”

“Not a lot,” Heath had to admit. “But, Nick, if ya’ really think on it – you’ll see that, after this last week, you and me bear more than a passin’ resemblance to a dime novel.”

“So I guess I’m looking at a lifetime of rescuing you, huh?”

“Leastways ‘til I find the damsel I wanna settle down with. Try to rescue me then, Nick, and this whole brother thing is off.”

“Well, you just give me a little wink when you find the right one and I’ll back off.”

“I’ll keep that in mind – long as ya’ keep in mind that I wouldn’t want ya’ backin’ off too far.”

“No, I won’t back off too far. I got the feeling you’re stuck with me for a long time, boy.”

“I can think of worse things to be stuck with,” Heath mused quietly, leaving a smile on both their faces as they began their journey home.

Chapter 17

Victoria Barkley’s skirts swished as she descended the curved stairway to the front foyer then crossed to the parlor. Her son, Jarrod, stood at the window on the far side of the room, a drink in his hand and the smoke from his cigar swirling over his head as he gazed out into the dwindling daylight. Eugene, her youngest son, was seated in a chair to Jarrod’s left and jumped to his feet as his mother entered the room.

“May I pour you some sherry, Mother?” he asked as she approached.

She gave him a slight nod of her head but didn’t stop until she’d reached her oldest son’s side. “What’s so interesting on the other side of that window?” she asked as she lightly rubbed her hand along his spine.

“Oh…” Jarrod breathed out, “nothing, really. I was just thinking about Nick and Heath. I don’t think things are going too well for them,” he told her.

“Is this just a feeling? Or do you have some firsthand knowledge that I should be privy to?” she asked in a way that said she expected an answer.

“Duke brought a couple telegrams back from town. One was from Nick. Looks like George Russell sent it for him,” Jarrod crossed to a small table in the corner and set down his drink to pick up the paper that seemed to concern him. He handed it to his mother.

She unfolded the single sheet and read aloud, “Three mares arriving later this week with Russell crew. Heading to Whitaker Ranch in Dayton to check out more horses. Home by Thursday latest. Nick.” Victoria looked over at Jarrod with a slight frown when she finished reading. “What about this message makes you think that things aren’t going very well?”

“It’s not that telegram,” Jarrod told her. “It’s this one,” he indicated a second sheet of paper. “When Duke gave them to me, I looked at that one and saw that it was from Nick and I just assumed he’d sent the second telegram as well and opened it. I didn’t notice that it was addressed to Heath. It’s from George to Heath. From what it says, I would have to guess that George made Heath a job offer and the telegram repeats the offer. It says he’s looking forward to working with him.”

“If George sent a telegram to repeat his offer to Heath,” Victoria reasoned, “it must mean that Heath didn’t accept it.”

“But the telegram is addressed to Heath Thomson.”

“That’s the name Heath would have been using when he worked for George last year,” Eugene pointed out as he handed his mother the sherry he’d poured for her.

“But that’s not the name he was using when he left the ranch a week ago,” Jarrod reminded his brother. “So the first thing I have to wonder is why Heath wouldn’t have told George that his name is now Heath Barkley. And the second thing I have to wonder is – if Heath didn’t tell him, why didn’t Nick?”

“Perhaps Heath didn’t tell him because George knew your father,” Victoria suggested. “And out of respect for the rest of the family he chose not to broach the subject.”

“Then why didn’t Nick do it himself?” Jarrod persisted.

“Maybe he didn’t tell him because he thought Heath didn’t want him to.”

“Gene, that may be true – but I also can’t help wondering why George was left with the impression that Heath might be receptive to a job offer. Obviously, neither of our brothers felt the need to tell George that Heath was perfectly happy right here in Stockton. I have to infer from this telegram that George made a job offer to Heath that he expressed an interest in, so George is reiterating that offer.”

“Well, Jarrod, the day before they left he DID say that this might be a good time to talk to George about a job,” Eugene reminded him of their conversation over lunch.

“I know that, Eugene. But do you really think I’d have pushed them to go if I thought a week later they’d still be no closer than they were when they left? I figured, at the very least, they’d be friends by now. I certainly didn’t expect to hear that Heath was leaving the ranch to take another job!”

“Why is Heath leaving to take another job?” Audra came bouncing into the room, her face flushed from an afternoon ride with whoever her latest beau was.

“I don’t know that he is,” Jarrod explained patiently. “I’m just assuming the worst from a couple telegrams we received.”

“Even if Heath is considering taking another job,” Audra reasoned, “he wouldn’t leave one job undone to accept another. And he wouldn’t leave behind the only picture he has of his mother,” she said of the one personal item in Heath’s bedroom. “He’ll come back here to the ranch with Nick before moving on to any other job. And we’ll talk to him about it and convince him to stay.”

“I know you would like it to be that easy, Audra. But if Nick has already convinced him that there’s no need for him to stay, that task won’t be quite as simple as you’d like it to be,” Jarrod just shook his head.

“Well,” Victoria cocked her head to the side and surveyed her children, “I’ve gotten used to having him here. And regardless of how Nicholas feels about it, I won’t let Heath leave without a fight,” she vowed.

* * * * *

When Nick and Heath left the Whitaker Ranch, they’d chosen to follow a trail that took them cross-country to the southwest rather than following the Carson River. They were hoping to make Cradlebaugh, a town on the river, by nightfall. With the twists and turns of the river, across open land would cut about five miles off their trip and assure them of reaching the small town before they lost the sun’s light. At least that’s the argument Nick had gone with when they looked at an old map that Aaron Whitaker had pulled out before they left. The route they chose crossed the outer reaches of George Russell’s ranch. The river route would have taken them right past his front door. Nick had no desire to be invited to stop for the night even with the understanding he and Heath now had about which ranch Heath was going to be living and working on. He didn’t want to give George another chance to whisper in the boy’s ear.

Regardless of which route they chose, Cradlebaugh was to be their destination. Situated on the east side of the river, its main attraction was a bridge that crossed the Carson River. It would save them from having to cross further down stream with two unpredictable horses in tow. Despite their seemingly calm demeanor as they were lead away from the Whitaker Ranch, Nick and Heath could only guess at how well the horses would travel. And if they didn’t have to ford the river, that was one guess they wouldn’t have to make.

They reached their target with about a half hour to spare before the waning light would turn to night. They settled the horses in the livery stable that marked the edge of town and had supper in the saloon. With an early start planned in the morning, they were content to leave the poker tables to others and found a hotel room for the night. The two small beds placed against opposite walls of the tiny room wouldn’t begin to fit the frames of the tired cowboys but that didn’t seem to matter as they entered the room already close to sleep.

They fell into bed and were both on the verge of slumber when Heath said simply, “Nick?”

“Hm?”

“Are we still gonna be brothers in the mornin’?”

Nick laughed. “Go to sleep, Heath.”

“No,” Heath rolled over and looked across the room, barely able to see Nick in the moonlight coming through the window. “I mean it. Are we gonna be brothers for more than just today? Or did ya’ just say all that to get a promise outta me?”

The laugh died as Nick rolled to his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He could hear more in the question from Heath’s tone of voice than he heard from the actual words and he knew that some sort of big brotherly response was needed. He decided to repeat what he’d told him earlier as they left the Whitaker Ranch. “Well, little brother, like I told you before – I think you’re gonna be stuck with me for a long time to come.”

Heath was quiet for a moment as he thought about that. Finally he exhaled the breath he’d been holding, nodded his head and said, “Okay. Just wanted to be sure.”

“And --?”

“I’m sure. G’night, Nick,” Heath yawned as he rolled back to face the wall.

“Yeah,” Nick yawned in return, “g’night.”

* * * * *

The sun was just painting the horizon as Nick and Heath retrieved their horses from the livery the next morning and left Cradlebaugh behind. They knew they’d be spending the night in the mountains and hoped to make Echo Lake before they had to stop. Traveling southwest from Cradlebaugh, by midmorning they picked up a trail that would be remembered for generations to come. Once called the ‘Great Bonanza Road’, it was now known by the less dream-inspiring name the ‘Lake Tahoe Wagon Road’. Traveling up Hawley Grade and over Echo Summit and through Johnson Pass, they’d be riding where Pony Express riders had crossed from California into Nevada and back again. They’d follow the path of the 49’ers who’d invaded California in search of gold. And they’d journey through the same passages that had seen an even greater amount of traffic departing California for Nevada when gold was discovered in the Comstock.

During the first half of the 1860’s, vehicles loaded with passengers, bullion, mail and supplies, and drawn by as many as eight horses, made their way along the Great Bonanza Road. Bulky freight schooners thundered along the trough paths. Fancy Concord coaches, some at breakneck speed, made their way through the thread of road. Mule trains and covered wagons shared the road that had once been seen only by the Indians who inhabited the region. Enterprising private citizens made improvements to speed travel and charged a toll to those who sought to use the popular route.

But with the completion of the transcontinental railroad that used Donner Pass to the north of Lake Tahoe, traffic on the Great Bonanza Road dwindled. Winter traffic became non-existent except for the determined and appropriately nicknamed ‘Snowshoe’ Thompson who hiked the route in his homemade snow skates during the winter months carrying mail back and forth between California and Nevada. And traffic during the rest of the year became a trickle as railroad cars to the north replaced the mule trains and freight schooners.

Still early enough in the year not to expect to encounter other travelers, Nick and Heath made their way up the trail that at one point rose over a thousand feet in less than a mile. There was little opportunity for conversation as Heath led the way with the bay stallion tightly tethered to his saddle horn by two separate ropes and Nick followed far enough behind to stay clear of the stallion’s sometimes agitated movements. Buster was tethered to Nick’s saddle and the new mare calmly traveled at Coco’s side on a shortened lead line.

By Heath’s watch they’d been traveling upwards for close to two hours when the road opened into a large clearing that afforded an opportunity to stop well away from the trail. A small stream wandered past and they tied the horses securely to the sturdy trees that grew by its banks. Both men breathed in great gulps of the thinner air, only then realizing that they should loosen the cinches on Coco’s and Magic’s saddles. Lunch, in the form of sandwiches they’d bought in the Cradlebaugh restaurant where they’d had breakfast, came from Buster’s pack and they settled onto a couple boulders to eat, drinking in the beauty of the surrounding terrain. Mountain pines blanketed the Sierra Nevada peaks that rose majestically towards a clear blue sky.

After a quiet moment between them, Heath mused, “Gives the feelin’ of bein’ in church, don’t it.”

“I WAS thinking that it seems almost sacred, somehow,” Nick agreed.

“Maybe it was to someone once,” Heath suggested and both quietly raised their eyes to the highest mountain peak as though looking for that someone.

Nick was the first to laugh and say, “There’s no one up there, Heath.”

“I’ve been up there once,” Heath told him. “Made me feel like I could see the whole Earth. Seemed to take forever to get up there but I got down pretty fast.”

“You fell, didn’t you?” Nick guessed.

“Part way,” Heath smiled that slightly crooked grin that Nick was almost beginning to enjoy seeing. “The good part was that I broke my arm.”

“That was a good part!”

“Well, I kinda got knocked out, too.”

“And what’s good about that?”

“An old trapper – with a beautiful young daughter – found me. Don’t know why but that arm took longer to heal than broken bones usually do,” Heath joked.

“You were dreaming,” Nick said disgustedly. “Probably outta your head most of the time.”

“She wasn’t a dream, Nick, and I’m tellin’ ya’ – that’s one damsel I wouldn’ta wanted ya’ rescuing me from.”

“Not like the one yesterday,” Nick laughed. “I thought she was kinda pretty in a young sorta way. Too young for me but she shoulda been just about right for you.”

“She was young in more than age, Nick. She ain’t learned nothin’ about life yet. At first she kinda reminded me of Audra but even Audra ain’t that giggly.” Then he remembered the littlest Whitaker and said, “I can’t imagine Audra ever bein’ shy like that little Rebecca.”

“Audra was never shy,” Nick sneered at the idea. “She just liked to flirt and it sometimes came off as being shy because we’d have a devil of a time getting her out from behind Mother or some chair she’d scoot behind.”

Heath was silent for a moment as he contemplated the rest of the family. He wanted to ask Nick about the boys – if what he’d witnessed from the Whitaker brothers was the way it had been in the Barkley house growing up. But he didn’t want him to think that he was regretting that he wasn’t part of the family, even though he was. It certainly wasn’t Nick’s fault that he hadn’t grown up with his brothers and sister – but he knew that Nick would feel the regret almost as acutely as Heath did if he asked about it. It was a situation that neither one of them could understand. Finally, Heath decided just to ask.

“Nick?” He waited for Nick to look over at him. “You and Jarrod – were ya’ like those two middle boys, Mark and Luke, when ya’ were growin’ up?”

“Why do you ask that?” Nick laughed. “Do you think we were that annoying?”

“YOU mighta been,” Heath sort of teased, “but I can’t get a handle on Jarrod. I ain’t never known someone who grew up to be a lawyer so I can’t figure out which one he’s like.”

“Well first, in my defense, I’ll say I was a combination of Matthew and Mark – more interested in ranching than school, like Matthew, but ready to compete at the drop of a hat, like Mark. Jarrod wasn’t like any of them. He knows what he’s doing around a ranch but even on a round-up he could be herding a steer and reading a book at the same time.”

“I saw Gene readin’ a book as he was ridin’ in the other day,” Heath nodded. “Guess you were right that they’re just alike.”

“Father used to get so mad at Jarrod,” Nick chuckled. “We’d be sitting at the supper table and Father would say the blessing and when he was done, Jarrod would still be sitting there with his head bowed. Only took once for Father to figure out that he had a book in his lap and was reading at the table. And still he kept trying to get away with it.”

“Better than fallin’ asleep at the table,” Heath smiled. “I used to do that all the time. One time Mama made some mashed potatoes – and we didn’t have ‘em more than a couple times a year so they were a real treat when she’d put ‘em in front of me all smothered in gravy. And I fell asleep – face first into those potatoes. It woke me up awful fast, that’s for sure.”

Nick laughed at the picture that brought to mind. And then he admitted, “The first year I was old enough to spend the summer working on the ranch, I used to come in so tired that I’d fall asleep at the table a couple times a week. I’d wake up in my bed. Father would carry me upstairs to bed and then, before he’d go to bed himself, he’d bring a sandwich and some milk up to my room in case I woke up hungry in the middle of the night.”

Heath didn’t say anything. He didn’t really want to hear about Tom Barkley but he wanted to know about his brothers and sister and he knew it was inevitable that what he heard would include memories of his father. He looked over at Nick and could see that maybe there were similar thoughts running through his mind. How much should he say? How much would Heath want to hear? Nothing either of them said would make sense of the fact that they were brothers who’d known each other for only about a month. Brothers whose father had been hero-worshipped by one and passionately despised by the other.

Nick looked up and caught Heath’s gaze. He took in a deep breath and let it out with a sigh as he said reflectively, “I wish you could have known Father as I knew him.”

“Well, I guess that was his choice that I didn’t,” Heath couldn’t hide the bitterness that he immediately felt. “There ain’t nothin’ ya’ can say that’ll make me stop hatin’ him for what he did to Mama so don’t even try. I think she always believed that some day he’d come ridin’ back into Strawberry and … do somethin’ … to make her life better.”

“Well, I doubt we’ll ever know why he didn’t. I just can’t understand why he thought a watch would take the place of everything else that a father should do for his son. I’ll just never…”

“WHAT!” Heath cut him off. “What are you talkin’ about! That watch belonged to…” his voice trailed off as he saw the look on Nick’s face. “Oh … no…” he shook his head. “Don’t tell me that, Nick…” Heath yanked the watch from his pocket by its small chain. “Are you sayin’ this was HIS watch?”

“Heath…” Nick sort of stammered, “I’m not really sure…”

“You’re sure enough to wonder why it was the only thing he left behind,” Heath accused. “Somethin’ makes ya’ think it was his. What is it?”

Nick wished he’d never said it. It had been an almost unconscious thought, regretfully voiced out loud. He’d give anything not to have said it. But now that it was out he couldn’t just shrug it off. He had to tell him something. He had to tell him the truth because if he told him anything less, Heath would know he was lying. So he said, almost gently, “Uncle John has a watch just like it with a ‘J’ on it.” He let that sink in for a moment before continuing. “He was visiting us once and said something about Father losing his watch years before. It was just like Uncle John’s but it had a ‘T’ on it. Father got mad and said he’d heard enough about the lost watch and didn’t wanna hear anymore about it.”

“So we were as easy to forget as that?” Heath asked angrily.

“Heath, I’m sure that’s … that’s not what he meant.”

Heath suddenly realized that Nick must have recognized the watch as soon as he saw it. And he hadn’t said a thing. He’d listened to Heath tell him about the watch saving his life. About how he wouldn’t trade it for food if he was starving. And how it was a family watch. “Did ya’ get a good laugh out of it, Nick?” Heath’s resentment was painfully obvious.

“What are you talking about?” Nick didn’t immediately understand what his blond brother meant.

“I told you this was a family watch! Boy howdy … you musta laughed at that one!”

“No! Heath, I wasn’t laughing!” Nick now understood only too well what Heath was thinking. And he knew he had to convince him that, far from finding it funny, he’d been just as confused and hurt then as Heath seemed to be now. So he tried to explain, “I could see how much it meant to you. I even told Jack that…”

“Ya’ told Jack about it and ya’ couldn’t tell me?” Heath exploded. “What kinda brother would do that!”

“Heath, I didn’t know how to tell you,” Nick said almost desperately. “How was I supposed to tell you that a watch that meant so much to you came from a man you hate? And what if it isn’t his watch? I don’t know for a fact that it is!”

“Yes ya’ do. Ya’ know it was his,” Heath asserted. “He gave it to Mama and she gave it to me … and … and it’s all been one big lie. SHE lied to me about it and YOU lied to me about it … and that ain’t the way ya’ treat your family!”

“Look, Heath, you don’t understand!” Nick tried to get through to him. He had to convince Heath that he hadn’t told him about the watch for the same reason Heath hadn’t shown him the picture in Strawberry. Neither one of them had wanted to hurt the other with their revelation.

But Heath didn’t want to listen to any explanations. This was bigger than Nick lying to him by not telling him about the watch. This was about years of lies – starting with the person he’d trusted more than any other in his life. Mama had lied to him about the watch! She told him it was a family watch and she HAD to know that he believed it was from HER family. And Tom Barkley – giving her a watch to pass on to his son like it was something to be cherished. Why would he ever think that something as insignificant as a watch from a stranger could mean anything to him? Did he ask Mama to lie about it so his son would carry something of his unknowingly? Even if he did – why would Mama lie to him for a man who never did anything for her? And now – now just when he thought that he could trust Nick – HE lied to him about the same thing!

“Oh, I understand just fine, Nick!” Heath’s voice choked up. “We can play at bein’ brothers. And we can work side-by-side like brothers. But when it comes to actually bein’ brothers – WE AIN’T EVEN CLOSE! Well, ya’ can have the damn watch! If I meant so little to him that he couldn’t give it to me himself, I don’t want it!” he threw it chest high at Nick who caught it only as a reflex. “I don’t want it any more than he wanted me!”

Nick took a step towards him. “Heath you can’t just…”

“I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT ANYMORE,” Heath yelled, “’CAUSE THERE AIN’T NOTHIN’ YA’ CAN SAY THAT’LL EXPLAIN WHY TWO PEOPLE I THOUGHT I COULD BELIEVE COULDN’T EVEN LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

Heath’s rage was palpable as he turned away and started across the clearing to where the horses were tied. Nick didn’t doubt that he was going to untie the bay stallion and be on his way – and that wasn’t the way Nick wanted to leave things. He wanted to show him that he could look him in the eyes and explain it – if Heath would just let him.

“Heath, you can’t ride off until you’ve given me the chance to…”

“I SAID I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT ANYMORE!” Heath swung around to face him.

“But I can explain…”

“NICK!” Heath yelled and in an action so quick that Nick had no time to react, Heath’s gun was in his hand and the small clearing roared with the sound of two shots fired in rapid succession.

Nick felt a thud and a moment of intense pain before he tumbled to the unyielding ground. His head cracked against an unfortunately placed rock and the pain faded to blackness and the blackness to oblivion.

Heath’s gun shook in his hand.

Nick lay unmoving. Face down. Lifeless.