The Wish

Chapters 1-7

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.

An "alternate universe" story in which a 7-year-old Heath comes to live with the Barkleys shortly after his mother dies.

Chapter 1

Life sure can be a kicker sometimes! Just when you think you've got something all figured out, you find that there's more than one way to get something done. And the way it happens might not be the way you planned it to happen. He’d been thinking about it for most of the past few weeks and wondered if maybe the way to fix it was just beyond what his 7-year-old brain could conjure up. There were so many things to be considered but he knew that he had to put things back the way they’d once been. At times it seemed as though all the thinking would exhaust him but he HAD to do something. Things had gone terribly wrong! This wasn’t at all what he'd wanted when he made that wish!

“You be careful there, boy,” one of the ranch hands lifted him off the fence he’d been standing on, his hand stretched out over the top rail towards a stallion that had been caught just two days before.

“I was just…”

“Your pa would have my hide if something happened to you,” the man interrupted him before he could explain. “Why don’t you go up to the house and see if your ma has something for you to do,” he gave him a nudge towards the house.

“Yes, sir,” Heath said quietly, eyes to the ground as he turned and shuffled away. He wanted to tell him ‘she ain’t my ma’ but Mama had taught him to be respectful and he suspected she wouldn’t find that a respectful thing to say to an adult – even one who was wrong. So he didn’t say it but he DID wonder why everyone insisted on calling Mrs. Barkley that. It surely would confuse things when he figured out how to put everything back in order.

He stopped before he got to the house and sat down in the shade of a tree that had shared a number of his thoughts as he’d tried them out to see how they sounded. So far nothing seemed to be within his power but he just knew there had to be a way to work it out. After all, he made it happen in the first place – even after believing he couldn’t.

He'd made wishes before … but they'd never come true. Then Mama had told him about real, official wishes. He was ashamed that he hadn’t believed her when she told him he could make a wish and then blow out the candle on his birthday cake and that would make it official. After so many unanswered wishes in the past, he'd figured they just didn't come true for a boy like him. And even after hearing what Mama had to say about official wishes, he still couldn’t help wondering why someone like him could have his wish granted if he was found truly deserving. He wasn’t really sure who this wishing fairy was but Mama seemed to believe in it, so he’d taken it seriously and thought long and hard about his wish – especially after Mama told him he couldn’t wish for what he said he was first going to wish for. And now the wish he’d settled on had come true, even if it wasn’t exactly what he’d intended. So he should be able to change things back since he’d made it all happen in the first place. At least that was the logic his 7-year-old mind was relying on.

He stretched out his legs as he leaned against the trunk of the tree and gazed down at his boot-clad feet. Those were some mighty impressive boots and he couldn’t help admiring them. He wondered if he’d have to leave the boots behind if he ever figured out how to change things back to the way they used to be. Never would he have imagined such fine boots on his feet and he didn’t really want to have to give them up. They looked just like the ones Nick wore and Nick hadn’t been too happy to see him wearing them.

“So are ya’ gonna start dressin’ us like twins now!” he’d exploded when Heath had proudly displayed the boots and his new hat for the rest of the family.

Heath’s elation with his new boots had turned to relief that he hadn’t picked the dark hat like Nick’s when Pa had taken him to the store. He and Mama had looked at a catalog once and she’d pointed to a light-colored hat and told him that was the color hat they’d buy for him one day when they’d saved enough money. That day had never come; something else always needed buying. But when Pa had told him he could get any hat he wanted, he’d picked the light one because Mama had been so set on it. Good thing Mama liked light-colored hats! For an 11-year-old, Nick had an almighty powerful temper and Heath didn’t even want to consider how big the explosion would have been if both his boots AND his hat had matched his older brother’s.

Heath looked over towards the corral where three men had joined the one who’d shooed him away from the horse. They were going to try to ride him and Heath’s young mind sneered at the way they dropped into the corral and then backed up against the fence as the horse reared up on his hind legs. If they’d just been patient, Heath could have calmed him down for them. He didn’t understand why his Pa wouldn’t let him work with the men. He’d had a job since the day after he turned 6 and now they wouldn’t let him work! He was chased away from everything he tried to help with. He never really liked working in the mine so he didn’t miss that – but he DID like taking care of the horses – and no one kept a tack room neater than he did!

He couldn’t watch what the men were doing with the horse. They weren’t being cruel; he figured anyone who was ever cruel to an animal on the Barkley Ranch probably felt his Pa’s boot on the seat of his pants before he was thrown off their land. But they WERE doing what most cowboys did to break a horse and it just didn’t make sense. Even his 7-year-old mind knew that gentling a horse sounded better than breaking a horse. And he couldn’t watch this one get broke.

He got up and wandered towards the barn. Maybe he should check on Miss Daisy; see if she’d had her puppies yet. Pa had told him he could have one but he couldn’t keep it in the house. What good was a pet that you couldn’t keep in the house! But maybe it was a good thing. If he brought the puppy into the house he might get attached to it and if he found a way to undo his wish he might have to leave the puppy behind with his boots.

There surely was a lot to consider when making – and then taking back – a wish, but none of that mattered now. Things weren’t right and they had to be fixed. He HAD to find a way to change things back because it was all a mistake! The biggest one he’d ever made!

“Heath?” he heard from behind, as he was about to enter the barn.

“Yes, ma’am?” he turned to face Victoria Barkley.

He almost felt sorry for her. She was trying real hard to make him feel welcome but he couldn’t see how she could really be happy suddenly having another child around the house. Especially when she already had two boys of her own, a little golden-haired daughter who wasn’t even 2-years-old yet, and another child due to be born in about a month. And especially when the child was a reminder that her husband hadn’t been entirely true to her. She was a real nice lady and sometimes he would almost bet she actually liked him. But he couldn’t let her get too attached because when he was gone and everything went back to normal he didn’t want anyone to be hurt.

“Honey,” she reached out and brushed a strand of blond hair away from his eyes, “I was going to make a special dessert for tonight and Audra just woke up from her nap. Would you mind playing with her for a while so I can get that started?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said softly.

“Yes, you’d mind – or yes, you’ll do it?” she tried to tease a smile out of him.

His eyes got wide as he wondered if she might actually think he was refusing. “Be happy to play with her,” he said quickly.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asked as they walked together towards the house. “You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”

He just sighed.

“What does that mean?” her fingers, again, brushed through his hair.

He couldn’t help thinking that he’d never known anyone who liked to play with hair more than Mrs. Barkley. Except maybe Mama. “Can’t rightly lose what I ain’t got,” he said simply.

“It IS rather lonely for a 7-year-old around here,” she agreed with him.

“Then maybe ya’ could convince Pa that it’s okay for me to work with the men,” he looked up hopefully to suggest.

She laughed. “I’ve never known a boy so eager to work! You should be playing and having fun.”

“Ma’am, I ain’t played so much since I was a kid,” he told her seriously.

“I hate to be the one to mention this, Heath, but you’re still a kid. There will be a lot of work in your future; now is the time you get to play.”

“But … I promised I’d do my share … and … and y’all are makin’ it hard for me to keep my promise,” he tried to be as diplomatic as possible.

“Honey, doing your share can take on a lot of different meanings. Playing with Audra is something I’d consider doing your share since it’s such a big help to me,” she explained to him as she pulled open the door into the kitchen.

“Yes, ma’am, ” he breathed out, “but it still seems like playin’.”

She smiled as she watched him climb the stairs from the kitchen to the second floor. She enjoyed the soft Southern accent he’d picked up from his mother and the two women who helped raise him. It wasn’t all he’d picked up from them; he was quite the little gentleman – polite and respectful – and she had to credit his mother for that. She certainly had raised a fine little boy! Victoria hoped Heath would someday allow her to fill that role in his life but she knew he wasn’t yet ready to do that. She did wish, though, that they could find a suitable alternative to ‘ma’am’ or ‘Mrs. Barkley’ so their relationship wouldn’t seem so formal until that happened.

Chapter 2

Heath stopped in the doorway of Audra’s nursery and watched as Silas, sitting in a rocking chair, tried to hold onto the squirming little girl on his lap. The blonde toddler was only a few months short of her second birthday and even at that tender age she sometimes seemed to be the one in control of the household. Certainly she couldn’t be left alone for even a minute unless she was asleep and she always demanded the attention of anyone in the room with her. He thought back to those ladies who worked for a while in his uncle’s hotel dining room – at least until Aunt Martha had seen that Uncle Matt paid more attention to them than the few miners who came in to eat. They’d seemed to get attention with a simple snap of their fingers. Audra, he thought, was going to be dangerous when she learned to snap her fingers.

“Heaf!” she brightened at the sight of him in the doorway and Silas let her slide off his lap to scurry across the room and wrap her arms around his legs as she giggled up at him.

“Hi, bright eyes,” he greeted her with a pet name that was theirs alone. “I came to play with ya’,” he told her as Silas slipped past them, patting Heath on the back as he left.

Heath favored him with a smile. He surely did like that man. Hannah was the only other person he’d ever met with black skin, although he didn’t really think it looked black anymore than his own looked white. He knew Hannah had been a slave in her younger years. When he’d left Strawberry with his Pa and Mrs. Barkley, Hannah had given him a cloth wall hanging he’d always admired. She’d once told him it was a picture of a constellation from the night sky and slaves had used its brightest star, the North Star, to find their way to freedom. She wanted him to have it to remember her even though he told her that he truly would never forget her. When Silas had seen it hanging on Heath’s bedroom wall, he’d gotten tears in his eyes and told the boy that he’d once followed that North Star himself. Heath had felt an instant kinship with the old man and liked to sneak down early in the morning and sit in the kitchen to talk with him while he fixed breakfast. The sight of him trying to rock Audra in the chair had first brought the smile to his face; the kindly pat on the back as he left caused it to grow.

It was hard not to continue to smile, as he looked down at his little sister. He thought she was probably the one who liked him the best in his new family. Of course, she couldn't actually talk well enough to say that. But she did learn how to say his name pretty quickly – and that was another reason for Nick to be mad at him. Just two nights before, as they were all sitting down to supper, Audra had greeted his arrival by squealing her version of his name, “Heaf!”

“Well, she certainly does know who her favorite brother is,” he figured Mrs. Barkley was just trying to be nice with the compliment.

But Nick didn’t quite see it her way. “How can HE be her favorite brother!” he demanded. “I’VE been her brother longer! Why hasn’t someone taught her how to say MY name instead of HIS?”

“Nicholas, it may be that Heath spends more time with her,” his mother suggested to him. “If you’d like her to learn your name, perhaps you could spend some time with her and teach her yourself.”

“Some of us have work to do,” Nick responded. “We can’t play all day.”

“Playing ain’t as easy as it seems when ya’d rather be workin’,” Heath said timidly to the brother he sincerely wished would be as welcoming as the little girl but who continued to scorn his presence. He looked over at his Pa hoping he’d take the hint and let him do some work around the ranch.

“You’ll have plenty of work to do in the future,” Tom Barkley assured him. “Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up.”

Well, he hadn’t expected him to change his mind that easily. Heath looked over at his brother and told him, “I didn’t really teach her my name; she just seemed to figure it out. But I could try to teach her your name if ya’ want,” he offered.

“Don’t do me any favors, midget,” Nick brushed him aside as he continued past him to the table.

Now as he looked down at the blonde little girl he remembered that conversation and told her, “I think we should start workin’ on learnin’ how to say Nick’s name. I don’t rightly know if it’ll make him like me any better but maybe he won’t yell when he hears ya’ say my name. Can ya’ say his name?” he crouched down and looked her right in the eyes. “Can ya’ say 'Nick'?”

She held his gaze for a moment then bent over and picked up a stuffed bear she’d dropped when she’d wrapped her arms around him. She extended the bear to him and said, “See!”

“Ohhhh…” Heath sighed, “this ain’t gonna be easy.”

Besides ‘Mama’, ‘Papa’ and ‘Heaf’, Audra’s vocabulary included the word ‘see’. Everything was ‘see’. He would usually tell her what the object was, hoping she’d learn some new words but so far his efforts had been in vain. She continued to point at or pick up items and say ‘see’. He’d never been around someone so young and he wasn’t sure if that was usual. Mrs. Barkley seemed delighted to hear her say it and would usually respond with something like, “Yes, I see. Isn’t that amazing?” Or ‘pretty’ or ‘colorful’ or any such description that seemed to pop into her mind at the moment.

Nick, on the other hand, lost patience with it pretty quickly. “When is she gonna learn some real words?” he’d ask of his mother. “When is she gonna do something besides giggle and drool?”

“All babies drool,” Mrs. Barkley would tell him, “and we’re lucky she giggles rather than cries. She certainly has a sweeter disposition than you had at her age.”

If Heath heard her say it once, he’d heard her say it at least half a dozen times. And he certainly could believe it. He wondered if Nick had ever had a sweet disposition. If so, you couldn’t prove it by anything he’d heard in the month he’d been there at the ranch.

“Well,” he told his sister, “at least I’ve got one friend in the family even if ya’ don’t say much that anyone can understand. I guess, in a way that’s good, ‘cuz at least I know ya’ won’t tell anyone the secrets I’ve told ya’. And it is nice to have someone to tell ‘em to. Someday ya’ll understand that,” he told her as they crossed the room to a rug strewn with rag dolls. “There are things ya’ know that you’re just burstin’ to get off your chest but ya’ really can’t tell anyone. Unless it’s someone like you who can’t repeat it and prob’ly won’t ‘member it when ya’ do learn all the words.”

They sat down on the rug and Audra picked up one of the dolls. “See,” she showed him.

“Um hm,” he nodded. “That’s a doll. Someday ya’ll prob’ly give her a name. I think she looks like a ‘Mary’ but that’ll be your choice one day since she belongs to you.” He looked around the room at all the toys. “Ya’ surely do have a mighty fine collection of toys,” he observed. “I once had a toy that was bought right out of a catalog. It was a wooden horse. I’m plannin’ to have it back one of these days when things are back the way they should be and I’ll truly miss ya’ when I’m gone. But ya’ have to understand – I made a wish and I think that ol’ wishin' fairy figured out that I was tryin’ to trick him. So he made my wish come true but it wasn’t the way I planned. And now I have to try to change it back. And if I can, I’ll prob’ly never see ya’ again. But you’re young enough that ya’ prob’ly won’t ‘member me so it’ll be okay. I don’t rightly think anyone else’ll miss me too much. I surely do know that Nick won’t,” he stated. “Boy howdy, I bet he’ll be happy to see me go.”

She looked over at him when he fell silent. Her raised eyebrows seemed to ask why he’d stopped talking. He was sure she didn’t understand much of what he said to her but from her reaction he reckoned she didn’t mind listening. So he continued.

“Why do ya’ suppose he doesn’t like me? Mrs. Barkley has a good reason, I s'pose, and she’s been nothin’ but kind to me. Jarrod’s pretty old to be my friend but he took me fishin’, just the two of us, and we had a real fine time. Of course, I think he was just feelin’ sorry for me ‘cuz I had to come live here – but, still, it was a nice thing for him to do. And even though Pa won’t let me have my own horse yet – which flat out don’t make no sense to me at all since I’ve been workin’ around ‘em since I was a kid – he does sometimes take me for a ride on his horse after dinner. He says he wants to show me what it means to be a Barkley so he’s taken me all over the ranch. Still, I don’t really imagine any of ‘em’ll miss me for too long when I figure out how to undo my wish. I don’t rightly know how long it’ll take – not too long, I hope – but however much time I have, I’d like to figure out how to make Nick like me before I leave. That way if we run into each other again some day, maybe we could sit down and have a talk and not yell at each other. ‘Cuz I surely believe if Nick is still yellin’ at me when I get a bit older, I just might yell back. Mama wouldn’t like that much.”

When he again fell silent, the little girl picked up a book and held it out to him.

“Ya’ want me to read this to ya’?” he asked her, taking the book.

She pushed herself to her feet and toddled over to the rocking chair on which she’d sat with Silas.

“Guess so,” he sort of smiled as he got up to join her. He sat down and pulled her into his lap before opening the book. “How 'bout if we read about ‘The Sleeping Beauty’. You’re pretty much a beauty when you’re asleep,” he settled her a bit more comfortably on his lap. “Maybe whoever this Mother Goose is, was writin’ ‘bout you,” he suggested. He didn’t know all the words yet and sometimes had to make one up when he got to one he wasn’t sure of but he knew they all started the same way. So he began reading to her with that traditional opening line, “Once upon a time…”

Chapter 3

Victoria Barkley stood in the doorway of her daughter's nursery and listened as Heath finished the story he was reading. "…and they lived happily ever after," the boy read then said to his little sister, "They always end that way. Too bad real life isn't like that. But your real life will prob'ly be like that. Everyone likes ya'."

He heard the noise by the door as someone cleared their throat and he looked up to see Mrs. Barkley smiling over at them. She crossed the room and lifted Audra from his lap. "Did you enjoy the story Heath read to you?"

"Heaf!" Audra pointed down at him still sitting in the chair.

"Yes, I know. You're an amazingly smart little girl to know that," Mrs. Barkley cooed at her.

Heath didn't think it was all that amazingly smart. She couldn't even say it right. He wondered how old she had to be to say it the right way. Well, at least everyone knew what she was saying – even if it made Nick mad to hear it.

"Heath, thank you for keeping an eye on her. I thought I might take her outside. Would you like to join us?" she asked.

"Okay," he shrugged.

Playing … and reading books … and sitting outside. If he were still in Strawberry he'd be doing something important. He'd have been up before dawn and working in the livery even before he had breakfast. He'd have gone from there to the mine to set charges and even though he hadn't liked the job, he'd known it was important. There wasn't much for the men to do without the charges he set. He was usually done with his work in the mine before lunchtime and was able to get back to the livery. Mr. Flynn often shared his sandwich with him -- no other man in Strawberry was good to him the way Mr. Flynn was. He might have had time to read a book over lunch if he'd been able to get a book from the tiny library next to the schoolhouse. It didn't get much use in the summer since most kids didn't want to be reminded of school when they didn't have to be there but he enjoyed losin' himself in the stories and almost always had a book tucked away to read in what spare time he had. That was something he really liked about living here with his Pa's family. They had a lot of books for him to read even if some would have to wait until he was a bit older. But if he figured out how to take back that wish he made, he'd probably have to give up those books along with the puppy and his boots.

"Why don't we stop in the kitchen and get some lemonade and cookies to take out to the verandah," Mrs. Barkley suggested as they were already headed down the massive front stairway.

As he ran his hand along the banister he wondered if Nick had ever slid down the banister -- and if there was a way to do it without anyone finding out. He didn't think his Pa or Mrs. Barkley would approve of getting from the upstairs to the downstairs in such a manner but he hoped he was there long enough to ask Nick about it. It surely looked like it might be something fun to try. Leastways, when no one else was around.

"Heath?" he heard Mrs. Barkley say his name.

"Ma'am?" he looked up at her, feeling guilty for his thought about the banister.

"Do you want to get some lemonade before we go outside?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'd be happy to get it for ya' and carry it outside," at least that sounded like something other than playing.

"That would be very helpful. Thank you," she smiled down at him. "Why don't you have Silas put the lemonade and some cookies on a tray and bring it out to the verandah. Ask Silas to help you if the tray is too much to carry," she instructed, knowing he'd try to do it on his own.

"Yes, ma'am," he hurried off before she could issue more instructions.

She was settled in a chair on the verandah and held her breath as Silas opened the door for him but Heath slowly carried the tray outside on his own to set it on the small table kept there for just such a use. She couldn't help smiling at the concentration she saw on his face. And Silas, behind the boy, mimicked his actions as he willed the tray to arrive safely. Both of the adults cringed as they noticed, too late, that Audra was toddling in her brother's direction and they knew she'd wrap her arms around his legs and the fate of the tray that had been so carefully delivered was anything but certain.

"Bright eyes, don't ya' dare touch me!" Heath ordered without even looking at her.

It was enough to stop her for just the moment he needed to slide the tray onto the table. Then he turned around and scooped her into his arms, planting a kiss on her cheek and telling her, "Ya' know if I'da dropped that tray, no one woulda blamed you. You're just too cute for that!"

She giggled and hugged him and pressed her mouth against his cheek in imitation of a kiss before he set her down and accepted the glass of lemonade that Mrs. Barkley poured for him. He sat down and wistfully looked over at the horse prancing around the corral. It didn't look like the men had been too successful in getting close to him. If they had, he'd have been moved to another corral by now. He surely would like the chance to get inside that corral just once…

* * * * * * * *

"Pa?" Heath stood in the doorway, watching his father at his desk and waiting to be acknowledged.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, Heath?" the man asked. Heath took that as the acknowledgement needed to advance into the room.

"I've been thinkin', Pa," he leaned on the edge of the desk to tell him.

"Thinking about what?" Tom Barkley smiled. Even in the short time he'd known his son, he'd learned that he'd tell them what was on his mind in his own good time. You couldn't drag it out of him before he was ready to tell you.

"Well, I guess ya' have your reasons for not lettin' me work with ya' like Nick does," the boy suggested to him.

"Yeah, I'd say they're the same reasons we've already talked about," he agreed.

"So, I've been thinkin'."

"About what?"

"Well – if I can't work with ya' – since Jarrod goes into town ev'ry day to work in that office, can I go with him an' get a job at the livery?"

"NO! You can't get a job in town!" Tom wanted to laugh at the suggestion but knew the boy was serious. "Heath, you're seven years old! You're too young to be working."

"But, Pa – I was workin' for more than a whole year b'fore ya' came to Strawberry and brought me here. Do ya' know how hard it is to just stop workin' and play all day?"

"Do you know how many older boys would like to have that problem?"

"Nick wouldn't," Heath pointed out. "Nick likes workin' with ya'."

"But Nick is eleven years old."

"Don't that make him an older boy?"

Okay, so he'd walked into that one, Tom conceded to himself, trying not to smile. As Heath regarded him silently, his blue eyes seeming to plead with him, Tom considered what there might be for him to do that would still give him time to be a little boy. By his ignorance, he'd robbed him of that for the first seven years of his life. He wanted to give it back to him but not at the expense of taking away everything that had been a part of his life during those years.

"So what did you enjoy doing most in Strawberry?" Tom asked his youngest son, pretty sure he knew what the boy would say.

"Workin' at the livery. And with the horses."

"Well, you know I can't let you work with the horses. That's just too dangerous. I won't let Nick or Jarrod do that and I certainly won't let you."

"I take care of a tack room real good, Pa. An' I can clean the stalls. An' curry your horse – ya'd never have to do that when ya' got home after a long day if ya'd let me do it for ya'. An' I could look after the barn cats and the dogs. An' it ain't the most pleasant smellin' place I've ever been but I can take care of the chicken coop an' get the eggs…"

"Whoa!" Tom laughed. "I'm not plannin' to put you to work from dawn ‘til dusk. We'll start with one job – and it won't be takin' care of anyone else's horse. A cowboy has to take care of his own horse or they're not truly partners. How about takin' care of the cats and dogs?" he suggested, figuring that would probably involve as much play as work.

"Think I'd rather take care of the tack room, Pa," Heath decided it was worth a try.

Tom considered it for a moment before saying, "Why don't we try it for a week and see how it goes?"

"You mean … the cats and dogs?" the look on Heath's face was almost enough to make his father laugh.

"I mean the tack room."

"Oh, thanks, Pa!" Heath threw his arms around him.

"Remember, it's just for a week," he reminded the boy as he rubbed his back. "And then we'll see."

"I know," Heath nodded his head. "Guess I'd best get to bed now since I've got a job to do in the morning. G'night, Pa," he added a kiss to the hug.

"G'night," his father returned the kiss.

Heath was smiling as he left his father's study. No man had ever hugged him until Tom Barkley had come riding into Strawberry in response to a letter telling him that he had a son. No one had told him they'd sent such a letter, so it surely was a surprise to hear the introduction, "Heath, this is your father." And it was an even bigger surprise when he put out his hand and Tom Barkley embraced him with a hug instead. To a boy who'd so often felt the sting of a man's hand, the unaccustomed warmth of his hug was almost as frightening. But he'd soon become accustomed to them and more than anything else he'd found in his new home, they brought out a smile that was anything but shy.

The smile stayed with him all the way to his room. But as he closed his bedroom door it faded as he thought about what he had to do. If this worked, he'd have to give up those hugs – along with the books, the puppy and the boots. But he'd surely miss the hugs the most.

* * * * * * * *

Heath crossed the room to his bed and took off his robe, laying it across the foot of the bed before he knelt at the side of the bed. That, Mama had taught him, was the way he should talk to God before he went to bed. Mama told him that it would show God that he respected him and, although he certainly did respect him, he didn't always do it that way. But tonight he wanted to be sure God knew that he did so he hit his knees before he started talking to him. He was glad Mama was the one to teach him to pray because whenever he'd heard a minister pray, he hadn't always understood all the words he said. It had sounded mostly like English but there were sure a lot of words he'd never heard anywhere else. Mama had told him to just talk to God like he would talk to a friend and he'd been relieved to hear that it was that easy while at the same time being sorry for the ministers who had to use words that no one else could understand.

As he dropped to his knees tonight he took a quick glance at the door to be sure it had closed behind him and then, for good measure, he did a visual search of the room to be sure he was alone. Tonight's prayer was just between him and God and he didn't want anyone overhearing him. When he was satisfied that no one was in the room with him he began, "Hi, God. It's me. Heath. I hate to impose but I want to start out by askin' for a favor. I don't mean to be disrespectful, 'specially ‘bout someone ev'rybody calls a ‘man of God', but I don't think Rev. Davis in Strawberry knew what he was talkin' ‘bout when he said Mama would burn in hell – an' I apologize for sayin' that word but it's only that I'm repeatin' what the Reverend said. You see, I think you know Mama was a good person no matter what anyone said about her so I know you let her come to heaven and I know she's one of your angels. So it occurs to me she might be in the room with ya' and that's where the favor comes in. I really want this to be just between you and me so if Mama's in the room – could ya' maybe ask her to leave while we talk? I don't mind waitin' while ya' do that," the boy said. "Fact is, I forgot to brush my teeth when I went to talk to my Pa, so I could do that while ya' find somethin' for Mama to do. If ya' don't mind, I'll be right back."

He left his room and went down the hall to the bathroom. He'd probably brushed his teeth more and taken more baths since he'd arrived in Stockton than he had in all his life in Strawberry. It wasn't easy hauling water into the house and heating it for a bath so those had been few and far between although Mama had always insisted on a clean face and hands and had always seemed happy when warmer weather allowed for frequent swims in the stream that flowed not far from Strawberry. During the summer months he'd rarely gone to bed without an evening dip in that stream. But here in Stockton it didn't have to be summer, although it was, and there was no hauling water because the tub was right there on the second floor and pipes brought hot water right up to it – and baths were a daily ritual, usually for the kids just before their nightshirts went on. And with that went brushing their teeth. He'd been so intent on talking to his Pa after his bath that he'd forgotten that part of it tonight and he didn't want anything to get in the way of God's good impression of him.

He got back to his room feeling ready for his talk with God and was, after another cautious look around his room, confident that it would be just between the two of them. So as he knelt down again he said, "Well, I'm back. And I wanna talk to ya' about someone who might be a friend of yours. I don't know if that's so ‘cuz I only learned about this wishin' fairy when I had my last birthday. But I think makin' wishes is kinda like prayin' so maybe ya' know him. I don't mind tellin' ya' that I think he's pretty smart to have figured out what I tried to do with that wish of mine. I surely have learned my lesson and I promise never to try to trick him again. I ‘spect ya' know this but just in case ya' were doin' somethin' else when Mama and I were talkin' I'll tell ya' what happened and I promise this is the honest truth.

"Ya' know Mama was sick, right?" Heath continued after a pause for a deep breath. "Well, ya' see, I told her that I was gonna make my birthday wish that she didn't die. An' Mama told me I couldn't do that. She said I had to make a wish for me. But I told her that was a wish for me ‘cuz I didn't want her to go away. Well, Mama said it was clearly a wish for her an' I'd have to come up with some other wish or she wouldn't light the candle for me to blow out. An' even after she lit it up, she made me promise that I wasn't wishin' for her. I thought about it for a long time before I came up with my wish – an' I'll tell ya' honest right now that I thought if my wish came true, Mama couldn't die as part of it. But that ol' wishin' fairy must be as powerfully smart as you are to have figured out what I was intendin' – an' even smarter to have figured out a way to make my wish come true without Mama bein' a part of it. An' I've truly learned my lesson," Heath said hoping he sounded sincere.

"So I'm wonderin'," he continued after pausing for a breath, "if there might be a way to undo that wish I made. I don't want anyone else to be hurt – but if ya' got the power to do somethin' ‘bout it, maybe ya' could just make everythin' go back to the way it was the day before I made my wish. I promise I'll never complain about workin' in the mine … and I'll never ask Mama why I don't have a pa. I'll do whatever ya' want if ya' could just tell me how to undo my wish. I've thought about what I'd have to give up and I'm ready to give it all back if ya' could just help me out this once," this time his hope was that he didn't sound like he was begging. "Mama said sometimes our dreams are the answers to our prayers – so I hope I'll be hearin' from ya' later tonight."

After a moment of silence, Heath got to his feet and started to pull back the blanket on his bed. But then he quickly fell to his knees again, said a simple "Amen", and once more got to his feet. And then, confident that he'd done all he could to present his case to God, he slipped into bed and drifted off to sleep with none of the problems he'd experienced doing that since he'd come to live on his Pa's ranch.

Chapter 4

As had become his habit, Heath was up early and down in the kitchen shortly after Silas had started heating up the stove to begin the day. Heath apologized as he told him he wouldn't be able to sit and talk this morning. His Pa, he explained with a smile, had FINALLY given him a job to do and he had to get to it. To a boy who'd spent most of the past year working multiple jobs, starting before the sun rose and ending after it set, it wouldn't have occurred to him that his father didn't intend for the job to be done first thing in the morning. After all, the tack room had to be ready when the men came looking for their tack. And, before they came in, he had to make sure that everything was in working order – no frayed leather or broken buckles – no hidden burrs or mud in the blankets – nothing that would send them back for replacement equipment or make the horses uncomfortable.

He'd checked all the bridles and pulled one off its hook that looked like the worn leather could break with one good tug. And he was in the process of brushing dried mud out of a couple blankets when Duke McCall came in.

"Boy, what are you doin' in here?" he didn't sound mad but his voice was a bit louder than necessary.

"Pa said I could take care of the tack room."

"He didn't tell me about that," the foreman said suspiciously. "I know you've been tryin' to find work to do around here but last I heard your pa said ‘no'."

"We talked last night – just b'fore I went to bed. He told me I could take care of the tack room. Ya' can ask him," Heath assured him.

"Boy, I doubt he's outta bed yet! I don't think he meant you should be doin' this in the middle of the night."

"Well … I had to do it now b'fore it's all gone for the day," Heath couldn't help chuckling at that. "I've only been out here for a little while. Silas was already awake when I got up."

"Still, I think we're gonna have to discuss this with your pa. I don't imagine this is what he expected you to be doin' when he told you that you could take care of the tack room," Duke shook his head.

"But I know how! I worked for Mr. Flynn in Strawberry and he said I did a real good job. I promise I'll keep it real clean," Heath's words tumbled out quickly. And then, in the hope that Duke would see the need for what he was doing and wouldn't try to talk his Pa out of giving him the job, he added, "It don't look like no one's had a chance to take care of it."

"Well, everyone sorta takes care of their own stuff since Tommy moved on," Duke brushed off the comment.

"Guess no one took care of this one," Heath took a chance and held up the bridle he'd set aside.

Duke only took a quick glance at what he held and said with a laugh, "I don't see nothin' wrong with it."

"One good tug would prob'ly break it," the boy suggested, showing him where the leather was almost worn through where it connected to the bit. "But I can fix it. Mr. Flynn taught me 'bout fixing leather."

Duke's raised eyebrows gave Heath the hope that he'd seen his point. He looked down at Heath who just looked back at him silently. Finally Duke asked, "Have you checked all the others?"

"Yes, sir."

"And they all look okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're cleanin' the blankets, too, huh?"

"That's for the horses, not the men. I wouldn't much like puttin' on a shirt that had dried mud all over it."

Duke considered that. "No, you're right. That doesn't feel so good. And I 'spect the men'll be glad not to have to do it themselves. Guess you'd best get that finished then."

"Yes, sir!" Heath agreed as he picked up a bottom of liniment and a roll of bandages and handed them to the foreman. "You're gonna need that for Mischief."

"Why am I gonna need this for Mischief?" Duke took it from him.

"He was kinda actin' up when I came in so I took a look at him. There's some tenderness in one of his front legs. I was gonna take care of it," the little blond said seriously, "but I thought ya'd like to get a look at it yourself."

"Yeah, I expect I would," Duke agreed with an indulgent smile as he turned to go.

He bumped into Tom Barkley as he exited the room.

"What are you doing!" he heard Tom demand of his youngest son.

"Takin' care of the tack room, Pa," Heath told him simply and then reminded him, "Ya' said I could. 'Member?"

"I didn't mean before anyone had breakfast!"

"Now, Tom," Duke came back in, "what good would it do for him to wait ‘til after breakfast when all the tack is gone? If you give a man a job to do, you gotta let him do it."

"He's not a man! He's a 7-year-old boy!"

"Who seems to know that the best time to take care of the tack room is when there's tack in it. Unless you just meant for him to sweep the floor in here," he joked. "Come take a look at Mischief with me," he took Tom's arm to direct him out of the room. He looked back at Heath and favored him with a wink.

Heath smiled broadly at the foreman as he disappeared with his Pa. Maybe this ranch wasn't such a bad place, he found himself thinking when they were gone. But – no, he still needed to undo that wish. No matter how many good things there were here – he still wanted things the way they were when he lived with Mama in Strawberry. He leaned back against the wall for a moment and tried to remember if he'd had any dreams last night. He couldn't remember any – but God probably had a list of things he was working on so that probably explained why he hadn't answered him right away. But he was sure once God thought about it he'd see that it was just a mistake that Heath was sorry for – and then he'd make it right.

Having decided to give God a few more days, he turned his attention back to the blankets, brushing the mud away and wondering if he'd have time to put this room in order before he had to leave. He'd just have to work as hard as he could and hope for the best.

* * * * * * * *

"So what's wrong with Mischief?" Tom Barkley asked Duke McCall as they approached the gelding's stall.

"I hear he's got some tenderness in one of his front legs," Duke didn't want to give away too much until they'd had a look for themselves.

Only a couple minutes later, Tom was straightening up and complimenting his foreman, "Nice catch."

"I didn't actually catch it myself," the man looked up at him from where he was rubbing liniment on the leg. "Heath mentioned it to me."

"Heath?" Tom laughed, thinking he was joking.

"Tom, I swear, that kid handed me this bottle of liniment and the wrap and told me it was for Mischief. Said he was gonna take care of it himself but he thought I might like to get a look at it," he laughed.

"Yeah?" Tom smiled. "Well – he HAS been working around horses for the past year."

"So when are you gonna give him one of his own? Nick has been ridin' on his own since he started school."

"Yeah, but…"

"But what?"

"But I watched Nick grow up and knew what he could do. Heath is just as much my son – but I don't know him yet. I don't know enough about him to know if he can handle a horse. He's a tiny little thing."

"Tom, you know the stallion our guys have been steerin' clear of? Well, Yancy told me that he had to chase Heath away from the corral yesterday – but the reason he told me was that he swore the horse was playin' with the boy. Heath was standin' on the fence and the horse was calmly standin' there for him to rub his nose. Only minutes later he had three grown men backed up against the fence afraid to go near him," Duke related. "Tom, I think your boy could handle his own horse," the foreman chuckled.

"That may be but he's still a mite small for a full grown horse," Tom said doubtfully.

"Mike O'Malley got some real nice ponies a coupla months ago. He could probably be talked into selling you one."

"I'll give it some thought," Tom decided. "But for now, I'll just get my son and take him in to breakfast." He started to leave but then looked back at Duke to ask, "Is Heath really the one who pointed out that problem with Mischief's leg?"

"I swear I had no idea until he told me about it," Duke held his hand up as though taking an oath.

Duke wasn't surprised to see what could only be called a look of pride on Tom's face. Tom Barkley took great delight in the accomplishments of his children, especially those who showed a tendency to take after their father. There was no doubt that he was proud of the son he'd found in Strawberry. Even as he regretted that the boy worked two jobs to help support his family, he was proud of the determination that had sent him to work each day. And even as he now wanted him to just enjoy being a 7-year-old boy, he was still proud of that urge to work for what he was given rather than to simply take it.

Tom chuckled as he stood in the doorway of the tack room and watched Heath struggle to toss a blanket over a rail that was just out of his reach, only to have it come down on his head. He rescued his son from the attacking blanket and smoothed it over the rail for him. "Come on," he lifted the boy up and settled him on his arm, "it's time for breakfast." He took a moment to look around the tack room then nodded his head. "Guess this room needs someone looking after it kinda regular. But…" he poked the little boy in the ribs, eliciting a giggle that made him smile, "we're gonna have to talk about when that work is gonna be done." Before leaving, he took a second look around the room and found himself admitting as they walked to the house, "You did a fine day's work, son."

"Ain't hardly done, Pa. Got a bridle to fix. The leather is all worn. Mr. Flynn taught me how to fix it so's ya' can hardly tell it's been patched up."

"It sounds like Mr. Flynn is a fine man for teaching you that," Tom acknowledged to his son, "but you wouldn't want to be taking money out of the pocket of Willie James, would you? He does all our leatherwork for us."

"Didn't know that," Heath shook his head. "Wouldn't wanna take nothin' away from a workin' man."

"I was sure you wouldn't once you knew," he rubbed his son's arm then set him on his feet and patted him on the back. "Now scoot on into the house and get washed up for breakfast. Don't wanna keep the family waiting."

"No, sir, sure don't wanna do that," the boy agreed.

He hurried inside and scampered up the back stairs. He was standing in front of the washing basin when he stopped to think about the way his Pa had rubbed his arm and patted his back. It sure had felt good. Maybe when he'd managed to undo his wish, he could find a way to not give that up. He really wouldn't mind not having the fine boots or all the books he could possibly want to read. And there was always a stray dog to be found in Strawberry. But there really wasn't a man there who could make him feel the way his Pa made him feel. There wasn't a man there who'd even consider giving him the kind of hug his Pa gave him. He wondered if undoing the wish would make him forget … or if maybe there was some way…

No, he shook off that thought. He was willing to give that up, too, if he could just put things back the way they used to be. He missed his Mama terribly and he'd give up everything if he could just take back his wish and set things right. The fact that God hadn't answered him right away made him realize it was probably a tall order and he'd just have to be patient. But he hoped God would do something pretty soon because, if he didn't, Heath was afraid he might have to think of some other way to get the job done. And he figured that anything less than God working on it would be a pretty tall order, indeed. One that might be far beyond what his 7-year-old brain could conjure up.

Chapter 5

He knew it had been too good to be true! He hadn't even had a day to get used to having a job before his Pa reined him in. It just didn't seem right to only do half a job but that's what his Pa seemed to want. As Nick and Tom Barkley had headed out of the house to begin their workday, Heath had tagged after them, intent on finishing his work in the tack room.

"Where do ya' think you're going, midget?" Nick turned and glared at him as they were crossing the yard to the stable.

"Pa gave me a job to do," the blond didn't back down but he also didn't come any closer.

"And you did a fine job of it for today," the elder Barkley looked back at his sons.

"But, Pa … I ain't hardly done yet! There's lots more to do."

"Then you'll have something to do tomorrow," Tom walked back and tousled his youngest son's hair.

"Pa…" the little boy breathed out.

"You've done enough work for today," his father smiled down at him. "I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding something to do that's much more fun," he patted the boy's shoulder before turning and continuing on his way to the stable.

"Yeah," Nick sort of sneered, "like maybe Audra wants to play dolls with ya'."

Heath's hands reflexively clenched but he resisted the impulse to raise his fists and challenge the bigger boy. He knew, even if he got the first punch in, it would probably be his last. He'd already had the displeasure of experiencing Mrs. Barkley's handiwork with her bottle of liniment. He had no interest in provoking Nick into doing something that would have her bringing it out again. So he relaxed his hands and gave his brother a crooked little smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. "Reckon I can thinka all kinda interestin' things to do while you're away from the house today. I'd best get started on that," he swung around on his heel and almost skipped back towards the house.

Nick was torn between following the little blond and following his father. A whistle from Tom Barkley made his decision for him. "Nick!" the man called. "Let's go! We're wasting daylight."

For the first time since his father had agreed to let him work by his side for the summer, Nick Barkley wanted to stay home. A sinking feeling in his stomach told him that no-good seven-year-old had something sinister in mind. As the older boy went into the stable, he paused to take a last look at the small blond, just disappearing into the house. He'd have to be extra careful when they got home, Nick decided. No telling what that boy might have up his sleeve.

Heath pushed the door closed behind him and the skip immediately left his step. He'd known Nick was watching as he made his way to the house and there was no way he was going to let him see how disappointed he was. He'd had lots of practice hiding his feelings from others so hiding them from his brother seemed second nature. But the disappointment at not being allowed to finish what he'd started before breakfast was very real. It had been a mistake to do it then, he realized. Doing it so early had given his Pa the chance to tell him he'd done enough work for the day. He wondered if it would be dishonest to wait to begin his work until AFTER breakfast tomorrow, when his Pa wasn't home, so he couldn't be told that he'd done enough work. If no one was there to tell him to stop … well … then … he wouldn't have to stop until he'd finished the day's job.

As they'd all sat at the breakfast table just a short while before, he'd listened to everyone's plans for the day. Pa and Nick, of course, had real work to do. Jarrod had lawyer work to do at that office in town. And Mrs. Barkley was going to take Audra to visit a neighbor who had a little girl born just a week after the toddler. She said it might be her last chance to do any visiting before the new baby was born. It seemed to be an afterthought when she suggested that Heath go with them and he couldn't really blame her for forgetting about him. She hadn't had to worry about a 7-year-old boy around the house until just a few weeks before so, of course, she might still forget about him from time to time. He hadn't really wanted to go. He knew there'd be nothing for him to do but play with TWO toddlers instead of one. So he was glad to hear his Pa say that Silas could keep an eye on Heath while the ladies and little girls enjoyed their visit.

Of course, at that time, he'd also thought his Pa had in mind letting him finish his work in the tack room. But now he knew he wasn't going to be allowed to do that and he let his body sink into a chair at the kitchen table as he tried to decide what he could do instead. Silas looked like he was getting ready to bake some pies but he knew he wouldn't be allowed to help. He'd already offered to do that once before and, although Silas seemed inclined to let him, they'd both realized that his Pa and Mrs. Barkley would consider that work. He hadn't wanted to get Silas in trouble so they'd decided that he could just be the taster when the pies were baked and cooled. It wasn't work … but at least he'd gotten the first taste of Silas' apple pie.

He stayed long enough to elicit the same agreement from Silas today … that he could be the apple pie taster. Silas promised an extra large piece as part of his lunch. It was the most Heath could hope for so he thanked him and climbed the back stairs to get his hat from his bedroom, figuring whatever he found to do would probably be outside. He stood in front of the window in his room for several minutes, watching the stallion prance around the corral below, showing off for the men waiting to work with him. For a moment, the horse was looking right up at him as though inviting him to come down and talk to him. But he knew he wouldn't even get close to the corral with the ranch hands gathered around. He turned away from the window with a sigh, picked up his hat from on top of his dresser, and exited the second floor by way of the front stairway so he wouldn't have to see the stallion when he left the house.

He decided to visit the grove of fruit trees and vines that his Pa had told him were planted because Mrs. Barkley wanted to have fresh fruit for her family. Of course when they'd planted the various fruits, there'd only been Jarrod in their family -- and he was just a baby. But he had to admit she'd had a good idea and it was pretty smart of her to think so far ahead. He'd never tasted any fruit except an apple before he'd come to the ranch. And now he'd tasted cherries and strawberries. He'd especially liked the strawberries because Silas had sprinkled them liberally with sugar and he surely did like the taste of that sugar. But that was just another thing, he realized, that he'd have to give up if he could undo that wish of his.

"Have you come to taste the apricots?" a man with an accent asked him as Heath entered the fenced-in grove.

The man, Miguel, had shiny black hair and a droopy mustache. His Pa had told him he talked the way he did because Miguel came from Mexico. He'd never met anyone from Mexico before but he had met a family in Strawberry who'd come from China. He'd asked Aunt Rachel where China was and she'd gotten a book from the library and shown it to him on a map. She'd explained that it was a country, just like the United States, and had tried to explain how far away it was but since he'd never been more than twenty miles from home, all those thousands of miles didn't make much sense to him. He'd asked his Pa if Mexico was anywhere near China and he'd told him it was much closer to the ranch than China was. You could ride a horse to Mexico, Tom Barkley had explained to his son, and you could only get to China on a ship. Then he'd shown him Mexico on the map that hung on the wall in his study. Yep, he decided, it would be a lot easier to get to Mexico than China … but all he really wanted to do was go back to Strawberry.

"The apricots need a few more days," Miguel told him. "They will be ready to pick en tres o quatro dias … three or four days," he corrected himself, seeing the slight frown on the little boy's face. "You will come back then, si?"

He knew THAT word! His Pa had told him it meant 'yes', so he responded, "Si," and felt very grown up, having spoken another language for the first time.

Miguel went back to his work and Heath wandered down to the small creek on the other side of the grove. Only when he got there did he decide that catching frogs was just no fun when he knew he'd have to let them go right away. Mrs. Barkley would never let him bring any frogs into the house. For a short time he sat there watching a couple frogs leaping along the edge of the creek where the water seemed to disappear into the grass. He envied them, having someone to play with. When he'd first come to the ranch with his Pa, he'd thought that Nick would be someone to play with. But he soon found that Nick was like the kids in Strawberry who didn't like him because he didn't know who his Pa was. 'Cept Nick didn't like him because he DID know who his Pa was. He sighed and looked to the heavens and wondered if God was working on undoing his wish for him. He sure wished God would give him some kind of sign because the list of things he was going to have to give up was getting pretty long. He knew he'd give up anything to change things back … but the longer that list grew, the harder it would be.

As he considered what else he could do until it was time for lunch, he remembered that he'd never made it into the barn to check on Miss Daisy the day before. Giving the frogs a last glance, he headed back to the house to see how the mother-to-be was doing. Only as he approached the yard did he realize that he'd have to see the men working with the stallion. But there was no one in the corral as he entered the yard -- they were all on its far side. The horse was again showing off, running back and forth and occasionally rearing up, and it brought a smile to the boy's face to see that the beautiful steed was still the one in control.

He knew the men would chase him away if they saw him so he didn't climb up onto the fence as he had the day before. He just watched the horse through the rails and thought it was the most normal thing in the world when, after a minute or so, the animal seemed to calm down and trotted over to hang his head over the fence and look down at him. One of the men hurried around the corral and lifted him up and away from the horse just as he was reaching out to rub its nose.

"He ain't gonna hurt me," Heath assured him. "He's just lookin' for a friend."

"Well, ya' can be his friend when yer a good bit bigger and he's been broke and rode for a while. Now ya' stay clear 'a him." He was set down and given a gentle push away from the corral. "Ya' hear?"

"Yes, sir…" Heath mumbled as he headed for the barn, scuffing his feet through the dirt as he went.

Miss Daisy was nowhere to be found and neither was Ciego so he couldn't even ask if he knew where the dog was. He'd been hoping there would be some new puppies to see but, if there were, Miss Daisy had them well hidden for the moment. He made a cursory search of the barn but decided if the dog was looking for privacy, he'd just have to respect that and leave her alone for now.

He knew it wasn't time for lunch yet as he left the barn. The sun wasn't in the right place for that. He'd known even before he shaded his eyes to check its position. But that only confirmed that he still had quite some time to go before Silas would be putting the noon meal on the table and he couldn't help thinking that right about now he wouldn't even mind reading a book to Audra … if she was home. At least it would be better than wandering around with nothing else to do. Then he realized that a book wasn't a half bad idea. At home in Strawberry he'd always relished those few minutes during the day when he could sit under a tree and read. Now he had all the time he could want and a room full of books to choose from!

He passed through the kitchen to see if the apple pie might be ready but Silas was just taking it out of the oven and he knew it would be a while before it had cooled enough to eat. He would have liked to stop and talk for a time but Silas seemed pretty busy and he didn't want to disturb him. So he accepted a cookie from a plate the old man held out to him and continued on towards the library, the cookie consumed by the time he'd passed through the front foyer. He stopped for a moment to look up the stairway, wondering again about that banister. There was no one around to see him, he thought to himself with a slight smile. But a little voice inside was telling him that if he was worried about being seen then it must be the wrong thing to do. Best just to get a book to pass the time until lunch.

He didn't think anyone was in the library and was surprised, upon entering, to find Jarrod at their father's desk. His oldest brother didn't seem to notice him at first and Heath wasn't sure if he should continue into the room or leave his brother to his work. He knew it must be something important. Jarrod had told him all about the work he was doing for someone he called the district attorney. He hadn't told him what a district attorney was and the little boy was afraid to ask because he thought Jarrod might not want to tell him the rest of it if he thought Heath didn't understand the first thing he'd said. Still, he got the idea that this district attorney was an important man and that his brother enjoyed working for him. He said it would be good practice for when he was a lawyer.

He'd once heard a man at the livery telling Mr. Flynn that all lawyers were crooked and he'd giggled at the picture that conjured up. But now he figured it must mean something different than he'd thought 'cause even if he turned his head and looked sideways at him, Jarrod didn't look very crooked. Well, except if he sat down -- but everyone was crooked if they sat down. Maybe Jarrod was just gonna be different than other lawyers, he thought as he lost his balance trying to see if he looked crooked when he saw him upside-down.

Jarrod was smiling over at him when he regained his footing. The little blond liked seeing that smile and knowing it came from his brother.

"Didn't mean to disturb ya'," he apologized.

"That's okay. I could use a break," Jarrod pushed his chair away from the desk and leaned back.

"Are ya' doin' lawyer work?" Heath approached the desk.

"Um hm," the young man confirmed. "Research actually. Mr. Blair went to San Francisco for a few days and sent me home with this pile of books and a list of questions he wants answers to."

"Never seen books so big," Heath hesitantly put his hand on one and when his brother didn't brush it away, he curiously opened it and studied the page for a moment. "Mighty small printin' in here," he commented. "And there's a powerful lot of words."

"One thing you'll probably learn about lawyers is that they never use just one word when twenty will do."

"They must go to the same school as ministers."

"I think you might be right about that, little brother," Jarrod laughed.

Boy howdy, he loved hearing Jarrod call him that! He favored his big brother with a smile.

"So what brings you to the library?" Jarrod asked him.

"Ain't got nothin' to do so I was lookin' for a book to read."

"This is the place to find one. What kind of book are you interested in? Maybe I can recommend one."

"Me and Mama had a book of fairy tales. I shoulda brought it with me but I left it for Aunt Rachel to read. Wouldn't mind some more fairy tales … or somethin' with a dragon in it!" he exclaimed. "Or … magic things … or knights with horses and swords … somethin' where they're fightin' … not rescuin' ladies," he sort of grimaced as he shook his head.

"I think I might know something that would fit the bill," the 16-year-old got up and crossed the room to the wall of books.

"Not too many big words," Heath thought he should mention that. "I ain't learned all the big ones yet. Sometimes I can figure 'em out … but I don't always know what they mean."

"There IS one that comes to mind that has some of the things you're looking for. It's actually a collection of stories that a woman told to save her life," Jarrod explained as he was searching the shelves. "It has SOME big words in it but I read it when I was nine or ten and I think you'd do pretty good with it. You're a pretty smart seven-year-old."

Heath smiled at the compliment before asking, "How come she needed to save her own life?"

Jarrod looked down at him and rested his arm on one of the shelves as he considered how to answer. He decided to forego the part about the sultan's wife being unfaithful, thinking that whole subject might not be received well under the circumstances. So he told him, "There was a sultan who was so angry at his wife that he ordered that she should be killed. And his anger was so strong that he didn’t stop there. He said he was going to marry a new woman every night -- and then have her killed the next morning."

"Boy howdy, that sultan musta been pretty angry!" Heath's eyes were wide at the thought of it.

"But he ran into a woman who was very cunning," Jarrod smiled. "Her name was Scheherazade. She married the sultan and that night, where she knew the sultan would hear her, she told her sister a story. But she stopped before the story ended. Now, of course, the sultan had a real problem. He'd vowed to have her killed in the morning -- but he wanted to hear the end of the story. So he let her live another day. That night, while the sultan listened in, she told her sister the end of the story -- and then began a new one."

Heath laughed. "That ol' sultan sure met his match!"

"He certainly did," Jarrod chuckled with him. "You know how many stories she ended up telling?"

Heath shook his head vigorously, impatient to hear the answer.

"A thousand and one," the older boy said dramatically. "The sultan finally, after a thousand and one nights, decided that Scheherazade could live. This book," he pulled one off the shelf, "has some of the stories she told. There are four books here but you'll probably enjoy the stories in this one the most. They're about the seven voyages of Sindbad the Sailor and all the adventures he has along the way."

"It sounds pretty good," Heath reached for the book Jarrod was holding out him. As he held it, he rubbed his hand over the soft leather cover, thinking he'd never held a book that was quite so fine. He read the title aloud, "Arabian Nights." He frowned as he looked up at Jarrod.

"What?" Jarrod couldn't help smiling at the perplexed gaze.

"What's a sultan?"

The smile turned to a genuine laugh. "Think of him sort of like a king."

Heath nodded. "Boy howdy…" he breathed out. "Outsmartin' a king!" He looked up at his brother again. "Bet my Mama coulda outsmarted that ol' sultan," he suggested. "She sure knew a lotta good stories. Didn't matter that we only had one book 'cause Mama knew a lot more stories than what was in that book."

"I'll bet she did, little brother," Jarrod patted his back. "You know what we should do?" he had a sudden idea. "You can take a look at that book and see if it interests you while I finish up the question I'm working on. Then I'll have Silas pack a picnic basket and you and I can have lunch down by the river since we seem to be the only two at home. That sound alright to you?"

The smile on his little brother's face said it most certainly did.

Jarrod returned to the desk while Heath sat down in a leather chair that seemed to swallow him up. His legs barely made it to the edge of the large cushioned chair. He opened the book and held it in his lap but his eyes settled on his brother, already engrossed in the work he'd temporarily abandoned when Heath came in. That was one fine brother, the little boy thought. One of the boys back in Strawberry had a brother who was sixteen, just like Jarrod, but his brother never seemed to want him around. He kept calling him a little pest and telling him to get lost. But Jarrod wasn't like that. He'd taken him fishing … and now they were gonna go on a picnic. He was pretty patient about answering questions and didn't seem to mind that Heath sometimes cried at night when he thought about Mama. He'd even come into his room and lay down on the bed with him, putting his arm around him when he heard him crying one night. He never asked why Heath was crying. He just seemed to know that his little brother had a good reason and he'd even told him it was okay to cry.

Boy howdy, Nick would never have said that, Heath thought. Nick would probably never wanna take him fishing and he surely wouldn't be caught toting a picnic basket for the two of them. And he never would have said to him what Jarrod said about being his brother, Heath reflected. He'd been there on the ranch for only a few days when he heard someone mention Jarrod's birthday party that had been held just the week before. Heath told him he was sorry he didn't know that he'd just had a birthday. "I woulda made ya' a present if I'd known," Heath had told him.

"No need for that, little brother," Jarrod had pulled him close and hugged him. "The best birthday present I got was finding out I had another brother."

The hugs had still felt foreign to him then and he hadn't known how to respond. Now he'd gotten use to them and didn't mind giving one in return. But he knew if he could undo his wish, he'd have to give up Jarrod's hugs along with those from his Pa. It wouldn't be easy but it was the price he was willing to pay to set things right. He'd just have to enjoy what he had while he had it … and hope God didn't let him get too used to things before he did something about it.

He wondered how God would do it. Would he fall asleep here at the ranch and wake up at home in Strawberry? Or would he have to find his way home when things were back the way they should be? Well … he'd worry about that when it happened … but he couldn't deny he was hoping for the waking up in Strawberry choice. Not that he COULDN'T find his way back to Strawberry. He was sure he could do that. But he'd see Mama sooner if he just woke up there. And that was the whole point of undoing his wish. Seeing Mama again…

Chapter 6

Boy howdy, this day sure was having its ups and downs! He'd started the day flying higher than the eagles his Pa had shown him up by the North Ridge. When he'd gotten up that morning and knew he had a job to do … well, it was about the happiest he'd been since he'd come to Stockton. Then he found out that his Pa wasn't going to let him do anymore work than he'd already done before breakfast and he'd been lower than a snake's belly.

But now he was up there flying with those eagles again!

He figured he had Silas to thank for his current good fortune. Jarrod had told him that he could help get one of the buggies hitched up for their ride to the river. But when they got to the kitchen to get the lunch that Silas had prepared, they found that he'd packed it in saddlebags instead of a picnic basket. Maybe he'd just assumed they'd be riding a horse to the river but Heath could have sworn he caught a bit of a wink from the Barkley servant as he said to Jarrod, "You'll be able to carry it easier on your horse this way."

Jarrod had accepted the saddlebags and, as they left the house, decided, "You and I will just have to take a horse instead of a buggy, little brother. You don't mind riding double, do you?"

"Not even one little bit!" Heath had said excitely and hurried ahead to get the tack Jarrod would need so he wouldn't have the chance to change his mind.

When the horse was ready and the saddlebags had been settled, Jarrod had lifted his blond brother onto the horse's back and climbed into the saddle behind him. As Heath felt his brother's arms around him, he hoped Silas was watching and could see the smile on his face. He hoped the man knew how much Heath appreciated the subtle way he'd suggested they make their trip to the river on horseback rather than in a buggy. Besides the fact that he just flat out loved riding a horse, the way Jarrod held onto him made him feel so safe. And loved.

He'd always envied the boys in Strawberry who had older brothers. Well … most of them, leastways. Now he just felt sorry for them because he couldn't imagine that any of them had felt as comfortable and secure in their brother's arms as he did at that very moment. When he finally managed to get his wish undone … he hoped he'd still have that memory to hold onto.

Jarrod told him he knew the perfect place for their picnic and, as they approached the spot where they'd have lunch, Heath had to admit that he couldn't have found a better place if he'd searched all day. The riverbank was a lush green and it gently sloped down to the water's edge. The area was shaded by tall pines and two had fallen across the river, creating a bridge to the opposite bank. Someone had, long before, taken an ax to the branches so as not to impede the flow of the river.

"This has always been one of my favorite places," Jarrod told him as he sat down in the grass and began to pull off his boots and socks. "Father likes to walk out onto those fallen trees and just sit there with his feet dangling in the water. He says that sometimes things seem clearer in his mind when he's sitting out there. One of the best days of my life was the day I was big enough to walk out there with him."

Heath stood there, silently watching as Jarrod rolled up his pants legs.

The lawyer-to-be glanced up at his little brother for a moment before asking, "You don't wanna get your boots wet, do you? You'd best take them off before you go out there with me."

Before he'd even gotten all the words out, Heath was sitting in the grass next to him, pulling his boots and socks off and rolling up his pants legs as his brother had done. Jarrod smiled down at the boy as he stood up and waited for him.

"Now you know you should never do this on your own," the older boy cautioned in a way that implied that the seven-year-old already understood that. "There should always be someone else here if you're going to go out there."

The blond head nodded silently as the boy stood up and impatiently waited for Jarrod to make a move towards the trees. The sixteen-year-old could see that impatience and knew it well. He still remembered the first time he'd ventured out onto the fallen trees, following his father and grasping his hand as the elder Barkley climbed up first then reached down to pull him up beside him. Jarrod did the same, hopping up onto the tree and pulling Heath up after him. He checked to be sure Heath was steady on his feet before walking out about fifteen feet with the boy following.

"You're pretty sure-footed," Jarrod complimented the boy as they sat down and swung their feet towards the water.

"Use to cross the canyon at home on a bridge just like this," Heath told him, trying to stretch his toes down so they actually touched the river's surface.

"You crossed a canyon on some fallen trees!"

"Well … maybe it wasn't a real canyon," he admitted. "But when you're pretendin', ya' can make it anythin' ya' want. Mama told me a story 'bout Robin Hood and Little John so sometimes I pretended it was a joustin' bridge. Did ya' know ya' can always win when you're pretendin'?"

"I guess that would be an advantage of pretending," Jarrod smiled. "What other kind of things did you do when you lived in Strawberry?"

"I worked for Mr. Flynn."

"No … I meant for fun."

"That WAS fun. I got to take care of the horses in his stable. Weren't many but there was always SOMEONE boardin' a horse there."

"I guess living on a ranch is a good place if you like horses," Jarrod was hoping to hear something that said his newly acquired brother was happy on the Barkley Ranch.

"'Ceptin' the men keep chasin' me away. If they'd just gimme half a chance, I could calm down that stallion for 'em."

"You stay away from that stallion, little brother! Promise me you'll stay away from him," Jarrod said quickly. "I know if you promise me that, you'll keep your word."

Heath looked over at him intently, trying to read something in his brother's eyes.

Jarrod answered the unspoken question by saying, "I know you're a man of your word."

Heath nodded and then, after a moment of thought, said with shrewdness beyond his seven years, "I promise not to go in the corral with him unless Pa says I can."

Jarrod laughed. "I guess that's the best I can ask for," he rubbed the boy's back. "Can't really expect a horse expert like yourself to completely stay away from such a magnificent animal."

"He is mighty fine," Heath had to agree. "Someday I aim to have me a horse like that."

"I expect you will, little brother. Barkley horses are the best."

Heath just silently considered that for a while. He hadn't figured it was something he'd have because he was a Barkley. He'd always figured it was something he'd have when he was old enough to save the money … or old enough to catch a wild stallion and gentle it.

And when he managed to undo his wish … he figured that's still the way it would be.

* * * * * * * *

Heath had expected his oldest brother to want to hurry through lunch so he could get back to the work he'd left in the library. But they hadn't even gotten to their lunch until almost an hour after they got to the river. Then they'd taken their time eating the ham sandwiches, potato salad, and apple pie that Silas had packed. And now they were just enjoying each other's company and Jarrod didn't seem inclined to head back to the house.

Heath looked over at his brother and wondered if this was an opportunity he should be taking advantage of. For a few days now, the little boy had been thinking he might need some help undoing his wish. He wasn't sure he was ready to actually tell Jarrod all of it. He figured his brother was the kind of brother who'd tell him that he didn't want him to undo the wish that had brought him to the ranch. Maybe he wouldn't understand that it wasn't the way Heath had intended things to happen … so being there was a mistake that he HAD to fix. But … maybe Jarrod knew something about official wishes that would help him figure out what he was doing wrong.

"Jarrod?" he said questioningly as they both lay back on the grassy slope.

As Tom Barkley had, Jarrod had quickly learned that his little brother would usually wait to be acknowledged if he had something on his mind that he considered serious. A moment before they'd been pointing out cloud formations and Heath had suggested that, if he turned his head to the side, one of the clouds passing overhead looked like a picture he'd once seen of a clown. Jarrod tried turning his head to the side but couldn't figure out if the boy meant a head-and-shoulders or a head-to-toe picture and he didn't have the chance to find out as he looked over and saw the blue-eyed gaze fixed on him as Heath waited to be acknowledged.

"What's on your mind?"

"Did ya' ever make a wish?"

"Sure -- lots of 'em."

Heath considered that for a moment before conceding, "Guess ya' HAVE had a lot more birthdays than me."

"Oh, I don't reserve my wishes only for birthdays," Jarrod laughed slightly. "I've been known to take advantage of wishing wells and twinkling stars on occasion."

"What!" the little boy sat up suddenly, his eyes wide. "Ya' mean there's more than one way to talk to that wishin' fairy!"

"The wishing fairy?"

"Mama told me about him … or her … I ain't really sure 'bout that part … but Mama told me when I had my last birthday. Didn't know 'til then that there was a real, official way to make a wish but it sure 'splains why none of my wishes ever came true b'fore," Heath sighed. "But she only told me 'bout makin' a wish when ya' blow out your birthday candle. Are there other ways to make it a real, official wish?"

"Well … you can wish on a star," Jarrod suggested.

"Any star?"

"It's supposed to be the first star you see at night. You know how you can sometimes look up at the sky before all the stars come out and you see just one star twinkling up there all alone?"

"Um-hm," the little boy nodded.

"That's the wishing star. There's a rhyme about it. Star light … star bright … the first star I see tonight…" Jarrod quoted the first part of the child's verse.

"Mama never told me 'bout that way. She knew lots about the stars -- she used to tell me about constellations. Maybe she just didn't know 'bout that rhyme."

"Knowing about the constellations is more important," the future lawyer figured Heath's mother probably hadn't encouraged 'official' wishes because she knew she couldn't give her son the things he might wish for. So he offered her an excuse and then added, "If you know about the constellations, you'll always be able to find your way home. It's a good thing your mother made sure you knew about them. I won't be too worried about you getting lost now."

The comment brought a crooked little smile to Heath's face. He'd always enjoyed studying the stars with Mama … but this new information about them intrigued him. So he DIDN'T have to wait for his next birthday to talk to that wishing fairy again…

"And then there's a wishing well," Jarrod interrupted his thoughts.

Heath's gazed settled on his brother once more, the smile turning to a slight frown. "How do ya' know which well is a wishin' well?"

"I think any well can be a wishing well," Jarrod decided, "as long as you toss a coin in after you make your wish."

"Gotta pay for it, huh?" he asked, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"Well, I don't think you're actually paying for the wish," the older boy laughed. "I think it might just be a way to separate the official wishes from those that aren't as serious. That … wishing fairy … would probably get pretty busy if it were as easy as just standing next to a well and making a wish."

"Figures Mama wouldn'ta told me 'bout that one," Heath mused. "She wouldn'ta never wanted me to toss away a coin like that. Don't 'spect I'da wanted to do that either. I had a penny once," his eyes brightened. "A man gave me five cents for lookin' after his horse, even after he already paid Mr. Flynn for it! Mama let me keep a whole penny and said I could spend it on anythin' I wanted."

"What did you buy?"

"Finally settled on a stick 'a peppermint. Ya' can break it up into a lotta pieces."

"Have some now and save some for later," Jarrod nodded. "Smart thinking."

"No … I did it so's Mama an' Aunt Rachel an' Hannah could have some. But they let me have the biggest piece! Pretty nice of 'em, doncha think?"

"Absolutely! But it was nice of you to share, too."

"Wouldn'ta been right not to," Heath just shrugged his little shoulders. After a moment of silence between them he asked, "Jarrod, did ya' ever make a wish and have it come true … and then had it taken back?"

Jarrod considered how to answer; how to reassure his brother that nothing he had now was going to be taken away from him. It never occurred to him that Heath WANTED to have a wish taken back. So he said with confidence, "Nope! Once your wish is granted, it's yours to keep."

He'd been afraid of that, the little boy thought as he lay back again and looked up at the clouds. Well … maybe no one had ever wanted to have a wish taken back before … so, of course, Jarrod wouldn't know if it could be done. But now he knew two other ways to talk to that wishing fairy. Maybe his Pa would give me a coin to toss in a well. He knew there were several wells on Barkley land. He wondered if it had to be a whole penny … or if he could just ask for a half-cent. When they'd been in town, Pa had given him three cents to buy candy. So maybe he wouldn't think a half-cent was too much to toss in a well. But he wasn't sure how to ask without telling his Pa that he needed it to undo that wish. He already figured Jarrod wouldn't want him to undo it. Maybe his Pa wouldn't want him to undo it either.

But … there HAD to be some way. He just hoped it wasn't beyond what his 7-year-old brain could conjure up.

* * * * * * * *

By the time Tom Barkley finished his workday and rode into the yard with Nick, Heath was settled in comfortably under a tree, reading the book Jarrod had recommended to him. There WERE some words he didn't understand but that didn't take anything away from the story being every bit as good as his brother had suggested. Still, it wasn't so good that he didn't mind stopping when his Pa rode in. He liked to hear what his Pa had done during the day so he hurried across the yard to where father and son were watering their horses at the trough.

"Hi, Pa!" he greeted as he jumped to a stop. "Did ya' have a good day?"

Tom hadn't seen his youngest son this exuberant in all the time he'd been living at the ranch. It brought a smile to his face as he looked down at the boy and told him, "My day was every bit as good as yesterday. And how was your day?"

Nick was trying to ignore his younger brother's presence and was telling himself that he didn't care how the boy's day was, when he heard the blond say, "Had a great day, Pa! I found all kinda interestin' things to do while you were away from the house!"

As they headed to the stable with their horses, the elder Barkley asked him exactly what he'd found to do. It didn't matter that nothing the boy told him sounded all that sinister. Oh, Nick Barkley knew better! That no-good seven-year-old wasn't going to get away with it! He'd check under the bed and in the closet and behind the door … and he'd figure out what that blond midget had done if it took him all night!

Somehow Heath was able to turn his day into a narrative that lasted almost as long as it took Tom and Nick to settle their horses. "Well, it sounds like you had a full day," Tom said, lifting his son onto his shoulders as they left the stable.

"It was pretty full, Pa," the boy confirmed, catching a glimpse of the glare Nick was tossing his way. With a grin directed at his eleven-year-old brother, Heath added, "I 'spect there mighta been somethin' else I did … but I guess it ain't worth mentionin' if I can't seem to recall it right now."

Nick was off like a shot for the house. Oh, he'd known that boy was trouble the moment he laid eyes on him! He didn't at all like the sound of the laugh that followed him towards the back door. He just knew it wasn't as innocent as the boy tried to make it sound. If it took him all night, he promised himself that he'd figure out what else that midget had done with his day! No one put one over on Nick Barkley, he growled to himself as he stomped up the back stairs to begin searching his bedroom. NO ONE!

And especially not a no-good seven-year-old whose laughter seemed to pursue him up the stairs!

Chapter 7

Late Saturday afternoon…

He couldn't believe his good fortune! For the past two nights he'd been sitting outside at dusk waiting for that first star to appear so he could talk to the wishing fairy about what he now chose to call 'the misunderstanding'. He'd thought long and hard about it and decided that's what it HAD to be. Mama hadn't told him much about this mysterious being that he wanted to talk to but from what she'd told him, he couldn't believe that his wish had been deliberately mixed up. He had to figure that the wishing fairy just didn't understand what he'd been asking for and had gotten it wrong. Surely, his wish was supposed to happen … because it HAD. But the WAY it happened just HAD to have gotten mixed up somewhere along the line. So he'd waited for that first star, each of the past two nights, and had done his best to explain the situation.

And then today, fortune had smiled on him! Pa had given him a quarter! He'd found out about two wells that were close enough to the house that he could get to them easily without anyone wondering where he'd wandered off to. But he hadn't figured out how to ask his Pa for a coin to toss into one of them. Then, after the men had been given their weekly wages, he'd been handed a quarter for just three days work! He'd never, in all his life, had a quarter all his own and he just couldn't see tossing the whole thing down a well. So he asked his Pa if he could have nickels instead.

"When I was a boy," Tom Barkley remembered with a bit of a laugh as he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a small leather bag, "it certainly felt like I had more money when it came in more than one coin." He dumped the contents of the bag on top of his desk and counted out five nickels, handing them to his son to replace the quarter that was given back to him.

Heath decided just to let his Pa think that was his reason for wanting more than one coin. He knew that the man wasn't going to be happy about letting him go home when his wish was undone. The hugs that he got every night before he went to bed left him with no doubt about his Pa's feelings. But THAT was something he'd thought long and hard about, too. Pa had a whole family in this fine house of his … and once he got his wish undone and Mama was back, she wouldn't have anyone if he didn't go home to Strawberry. It WAS getting harder to think about giving up everything he had here at the ranch but he loved Mama more than everything put together … so he knew he'd give it all up when he had to. And there'd be no complaining about it because that was his choice.

So now he had five coins in his pocket and he knew where to find two different wells. He didn't know the rules about wishing wells but he didn't want to overdo it. So he decided that he'd make just one wish in each well. That would still leave him with three nickels to take back to Strawberry with him. Boy howdy, wouldn't that make Mama happy! But … of course … he might have to leave the nickels behind with the boots and the books and all the rest. Wouldn't matter though, he shook off that thought. He and Mama had done without them in the past so he knew they could get by without them in the future if they had to.

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow after church he was going out to both those wells, talk to that wishing fairy, and toss a nickel into each one. And he'd make sure to mention that he was going to do it when he found tonight's wishing star. He figured that would give the wishing fairy something to look forward to. Oh, he just knew this was going to work! There was no way it COULDN'T work! If HE were a wishing fairy, he knew HE'D pay attention to someone who was throwing money at him! Who wouldn’t?

* * * * * * * *

Sunday night…

Heath sat back and watched the rest of the family in what he'd found was a Barkley Sunday night tradition. Even if they were all engaged in their own activities, they gathered in the parlor after supper on Sunday. Mrs. Barkley had just returned from putting Audra to bed and was darning some socks. It made him think of all the times he'd watched Mama do just that and he wondered if he'd be able to take his new socks with him when he went back to Strawberry. It surely would be nice for Mama not to have to mend his socks for a while.

His Pa was reading a newspaper and didn't seem too happy about what he was reading. Every now and then he'd shake the paper straight even though it really didn't need it and make a noise that sounded like a cross between a snarl and a groan. Mrs. Barkley would look over at him as though she were waiting for him to say something then would quietly go back to her darning when he didn't.

Jarrod and Nick were playing a game of checkers and he had to admit that his eleven-year-old brother did that just as noisily as he did everything else. He moaned loudly every time Jarrod took one of his checkers off the board and cheered himself on every time HE took one of Jarrod's. The moans were far more frequent than the cheers as they played two games. It didn't really surprise him. Jarrod had shown Heath how to play checkers and he knew it took a lot of thinking. Nick didn't really take the time to think through his game. If there were two checkers to be jumped he'd choose that over a single checker every time -- even if jumping that single checker might set him up for a better move. He always went with an obvious attack instead of what Jarrod called strategy -- then he always seemed annoyed when Jarrod's patience won out over that quick attack.

Heath looked longingly at his two brothers, wondering why it was that Jarrod liked him but Nick didn't. When he'd first arrived at the ranch, his inclination was to follow Nick around, thinking a brother who was only four years older would just naturally like him. But Nick had made it clear in no uncertain terms that he didn't want anything to do with this new brother of his … except he didn't actually call him his brother. Heath couldn't remember having heard him use that word even once … unless someone else said it first … or unless he was talking about Jarrod.

His oldest brother had told him Nick would come around. He'd told him that it was only a matter of time before the eleven-year-old would appreciate having a little brother. Heath was beginning to think that it would all come too late. He was beginning to think that by the time Nick decided he was ready to be Heath's brother, his wish would have been undone and he'd be home in Strawberry and it wouldn't matter anyway.

He'd tried everything he could think of to get Nick's attention. First he'd followed him around. Then he'd ignored him. And most recently he'd done his best to drive Nick crazy trying to figure out what he was up to. He'd thought that sooner or later Nick would get tired of trying to work it out and just ask him. But so far the older boy had just mumbled a lot under his breath and gone running off to search his room every time Heath smiled at him. He wondered if there was any other seven-year-old in the whole world who was as good as he was at making his brother think he was up to something, when he actually hadn't done anything at all. He sure was driving Nick crazy, he thought with a smile that faded quickly as he realized that even that didn't get Nick talking to him.

He could see through the window that it was just about time to go outside and find that first star and talk to the wishing fairy again. He was certain that tonight was the night he'd see results. The wishing fairy HAD to be thinking kindly about him. He'd gone out to talk to him for the past three nights so he knew they were getting to be friends. Then today he'd tossed two whole nickels in those wells -- and that was a fortune! You could buy all sorts of things with two nickels! Tonight just HAD to be the night!

No one seemed to notice as he laid his book down and slipped out of his chair to leave the parlor. He opened and closed the front door quietly and crossed the drive to sit cross-legged in the grass, looking up at the sky and trying to find a star in the cloudless twilight. So intently was he searching the heavens that he didn't notice the figure standing at the window watching him.

Nick's eyes narrowed as he watched the little blond sitting in the yard. He'd seen him do the same thing the past few nights and had guessed, from the direction of his gaze, that he was looking at the stars. But it didn't make sense to Nick that he always went out before the stars actually appeared. It was only today, when he heard Heath asking Jarrod to tell him again how that rhyme about the first star went, that he realized the boy was probably out there making a wish. How many wishes did that midget need to make, he wondered. What more could he possibly want? All he had to do was give Father one of those stupid, crooked grins of his and he could get anything he asked for. One of these days they'd realize that he was nothing but trouble. And Nick knew if he could just figure out what that kid was up to all day, he'd be the one to make them realize that!

He lost interest in what was happening outside and talked Jarrod into one more game of checkers. Half the checkers had already been removed from the board by the time Heath came back into the room and wandered over to watch.

Jarrod glanced up and saw him studying the board. "Where'd you disappear to, Heath? I was going to ask you to play."

"He's been outside wishin'," Nick sneered before the blond could reply. And then he laughed, "He was prob'ly wishin' he could get rid of that dumb ol' name. Good thing for you that wishin' is just a stupid game that kids play," he reached out and poked the boy's shoulder. "Ya'd prob'ly change your name to somethin' even dumber. Jarrod, ya' ever heard of anyone with a name like 'Heath'?"

"I happen to think that 'Heath' is a very nice name," Jarrod said when he saw the look that crossed his youngest brother's face. "An original name for a unique person."

Jarrod's words did nothing to wipe the anguished look from Heath's eyes as he glared at Nick, his arms rigidly at his side and his fists clenched. Heath felt the sting of tears and knew that if he stood there much longer, he was going to start crying. And there was no way he was going to give Nick the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

"Think I'm gonna go to bed," it came out as a whisper as he looked at Jarrod.

His gaze settled on Nick for only a moment before he turned away. The pain Nick saw in the little boy's eyes made him regret the words that had put it there but he knew there was nothing he could say now that would take it away. He turned back to the checkerboard and thought about his next move for a few seconds before he jumped one of Jarrod's checkers and half-heartedly cheered the feat. When Jarrod didn't respond, Nick finally looked up at his older brother who was staring at him angrily.

"What?" he said, trying to sound like he didn't already know.

"Do you ever stop to think before you say something?" Jarrod asked him. "Why did you have to say that to him?"

Nick didn't have a chance to respond as a voice behind him demanded to know, "Why did he have to say WHAT to him? And does it have anything to do with why Heath was just short of tears when he said 'good night' to me a moment ago?"

The eleven-year-old turned to face his father. Well, he'd find out anyway, Nick knew, so he might as well be the one to tell him. "I mighta said something about his name."

"Such as…" Tom prompted.

"Maybe that it was a dumb ol' name," he admitted, reluctantly.

Tom let out a loud, exasperated breath and there was tension in his voice as he said, "Let's you and I go outside, Nicholas. We've got some things to talk about."

Nick knew that tone of voice only too well. He knew that what sounded like a suggestion was actually a command. And he knew that he'd better not utter a word and just do as commanded. He got up silently and followed his father into the foyer and out the front door. The quiet way the man closed the door told Nick just as much as his voice had. Tom Barkley was angry and doing his best to control that … but the boy knew that an explosion could be just beneath the surface.

* * * * * * * *

The tears fell before Heath was halfway up the stairs. He'd run out of ideas. There wasn't anything he could do to make his brother like him. There didn't seem to be anything he could do to change his wish. All the hope he'd felt just a short time ago when he'd walked out the door to have his talk with the wishing fairy had been erased by a few careless words from his brother. A brother he'd always wanted … but one who was never going to want to be his brother.

He wondered if it was really true that wishing was just a game that kids played. It COULDN'T be! He'd made a wish and it HAD come true! If it was just a game … then his birthday wish never would have come true. He wouldn't have gotten his wish … and Mama wouldn't have died … and he'd still be living with her in Strawberry. He wouldn't even know about his Pa … and his new family … and he wouldn't be trying to undo the wish he thought he'd so carefully made. He wouldn't be so confused about everything, he knew as he threw himself on his bed.

He rolled to his side and let the pillow wipe the tears from his face. Then with a deep shuddering breath he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, hoping that when he woke up he'd find that tonight had just been a dream. Or rather a nightmare.

* * * * * * * *

Tom walked across the front drive and stopped just about where Heath had been watching the stars. Turning to face his son he ordered, "I want you to tell me right now what you don't like about Heath."

Nick looked up at him silently, his mind churning away as he tried to think of something to say that would make sense.

When the boy didn't respond, Tom said, "He's been here four weeks and you've done nothing to make him feel welcome. You've taken every opportunity to push him away. Obviously you must have some very good reasons for having done that. I want to know what they are. And I want to know right now."

The eleven-year-old took a deep breath as though preparing to say something but then quietly and slowly let it out.

"One of the things I've always admired about you, Nicholas, is that you're a champion of the underdog. You'll stick up for the poorest child in the school when others tease … for the slowest boy in the race … for the least intelligent pupil in the classroom. Yet you won't give Heath the same courtesy. Why?"

"None of THEM are claimin' to be my brother!" disdain dripped from his words.

"He didn't CLAIM to be your brother," the elder Barkley said. "I TOLD him he was your brother. MY SON! I had to convince him of that! I'm the one who brought him here and believe me, Nicholas, his life has been turned upside-down by that."

"Yeah, well, it sure don't seem like he minded comin' here!"

"Oh, Nick…" Tom Barkley took the same deep breath his son had just a moment before. He let it out with a sigh as he said, "I wish you had been there to see it. Maybe you'd understand a bit better what that little boy is facing."

He paused to consider how he could explain Heath's life to a boy who'd never known anything but comfort and love. To a boy who'd known only acceptance from those who crossed his path. A boy who'd been born to the Barkley name.

"You know…" he finally said, "even after I convinced him that I AM his father and that I was there because Rachel Caulfield had sent me a letter telling me about him, he still thought I was there just to meet him. It didn't occur to him that I was there to bring him home to Stockton. I don't even know how many times he asked me if I was sure that I wanted him to come live with us," he told his son. "I don't think he believed that I could so quickly accept him. But, Nick, the moment I met him … I knew he was my son. I was immediately struck by how much he resembles your Uncle John when he was that age. I couldn't stop myself from reaching out and pulling him close to hug him," he admitted. "And then I asked him if he was okay because he was shaking so much that I thought he might be sick. Your mother pulled me away and told me she thought I was scaring him. Later Mrs. Caulfield told me that he probably WAS scared," Tom related, pausing for effect and hoping his son was listening. "She said he probably thought I was going to hit him … as his uncle so often did."

Nick had been doing his best to avoid his father's gaze. Now he looked up sharply, a mixture of surprise and disbelief in his eyes.

"Mrs. Caulfield told us that from the time Heath was four or five, he'd try to put himself between his mother and his uncle so the man couldn't hit her," Tom said when he knew he had his son's attention. "He's not so different than you, Nick. I think you'd try to do the same if someone threatened your mother that way. I've always appreciated your protective nature. That's why it's so disappointing that you won't show Heath what it means to have Nick Barkley as his big brother."

"I guess we've both disappointed each other then, haven't me?" Nick asked bitterly.

"I'm sure I have disappointed you," his father didn't hesitate to admit.

"You're the one who's s'pose to show me what it means to be a father … and a husband! Maybe I ain't been a good brother to him … but you ain't been a good father to him neither. I ain't so young that I don't know some things," the boy stated in his most worldly voice. "Ya' shoulda known! Ya' shouldn't just be findin' out now!"

"You're right," Tom agreed. "I'm not gonna argue that with you. I failed him. I failed you … and Jarrod … and Audra. I failed your mother. I did all that … and you're blaming a seven-year-old boy for it. Would you rather I'd left him there with a vile, drunken, abusive man than to let you know that I'd made a mistake?"

A slight laugh escaped from Nick's mouth and before he thought about it he said, "That's what I've been saying. He's a mistake."

"DON'T YOU EVER REFER TO HIM AS A MISTAKE AGAIN!" Tom's teeth were clenched. "I made a mistake and Heath's mother made a mistake. But the consequence of our mistake is a little boy whose mother … AND FATHER … consider him a gift! He's a little boy who could be not only your brother but also your best friend, if you'd let him. If I EVER hear you refer to him as a mistake again, I'll show you exactly what my father thought the woodshed was for!"

Nick knew that most parents didn't think twice about the kind of punishment his father was threatening. But aside from an occasional swat on the seat of his pants when he was younger, the man had never raised a hand to him. That he was promising it now told Nick just how serious he was. And he knew that the only appropriate response was, "Yes, sir."

Tom Barkley studied his middle son for a long moment, wondering if there was anything he could say or do to change the way Nick felt about his little brother. Finally he said, in a strangely subdued voice, "I can't make you like him, Nick. I can only ask you to give him a chance. Think about it," he patted the boy on the shoulder.

Nick didn't go with his father as the man slowly walked back into the house. Instead he sat down in the grass and actually DID think about it. His father had asked him what he didn't like about Heath and he hadn't been able to come up with anything immediately. Well, that's what he was going to think about. He was going to think of something he didn't like about that kid. He was going to think of something that would explain why he'd been acting the way he had. There must be a reason … and he was sure if he thought about it long enough he'd figure it out.

* * * * * * * *

Heath heard the soft click of his bedroom door as Jarrod pulled it shut. The sixteen-year-old had come up to check on him but had quietly left when he thought Heath was asleep. The boy rolled to his back when he was sure his oldest brother was gone then sat up and reached over to turn up the lamp that Jarrod had turned down.

He'd decided what he was going to do as he'd lain there trying to sleep. He was gonna go back to Strawberry. THAT'S why it wasn't working. The wishing fairy didn't know he was the same boy who'd made that wish in Strawberry. How could he know? The boy who'd made that wish lived in a little two-room cabin … and the boy who was trying to undo it lived in a fine, big house. He was just confusing that wishing fairy by sitting here in Stockton and trying to undo a wish he'd made in Strawberry.

He got out of bed and crossed the room to open the closet door. Then he pulled the chair from his desk into the open doorway and climbed onto it. Reaching up to the top shelf, he pushed aside a box and felt for the satchel he'd brought with him. He wasn't going to take anything with him that he hadn't brought from Strawberry. There was no point in taking things that wouldn't be his once his wish was undone. Good thing he hadn't let Mrs. Barkley throw his old clothes away. He didn't want anything to get in the way of that wishing fairy recognizing him.

He ducked as the satchel fell from the top of another box that he'd been pulling off the shelf. As it hit the floor with a soft thud he looked down at it and smiled. He didn't know how long it would take him to get to Strawberry … but at least he'd be traveling light.

Continued…