by Redwood
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program
"Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and
have been used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.
Chapter
21
It was just after 5:15 when Jarrod placed the bulging
saddlebags over the collapsing fence of the decaying grey barn in the middle of
Oak Flats. The farm had once belonged to some neighbors who had sold out to
Jarrod’s father years before in order to return back East. It had been in
disuse ever since, only occasionally being needed as a temporary line shack for
one of Nick’s crews.
He retreated to the trees where one of Liam’s deputies was
waiting for him. “Alright, now we wait,” he said when he joined the younger man
on the little bay mare.
Russ Atkins had observed the drop from his vantage point
on the other side of the meadow. He knew the man who had deposited the saddlebags
on the fence had not ridden away, but he wasn’t worried about being stopped or
about the man getting inside Lloyd’s perimeter if he decided to follow.
Confidently, he charged out of the trees, rode up to the fence, threw the
leather pouches across the front of his saddle, and wheeled toward the
encampment over five miles away.
As he watched the man on the black and white paint pony
gallop down the road away from them, Jarrod wondered at the boldness of the
gang’s plan. Then, after giving the pickup man a reasonable head start, he
nodded at the deputy and turned his own sorrel horse to follow in the same
direction.
They planned to join up with one of the sheriff’s two
groups of men near the area below the lookout ridge. After explaining to the sheriff
what Heath had told them about Garner’s perimeter, he and Liam had already
decided his men would be split up into two groups. One would wait for Jarrod,
then prepare to enter the trees and attempt to catch the marauders before they
could escape. They would also watch for any sign of Audra’s safe release.
The sheriff had stationed the other group along the route
they had figured the raiders would take if they decided to attack the ranch.
Their presence along that road assured Jarrod that no raiders would be able to
head toward the ranch to make good on their earlier threat to burn the house.
Jarrod knew that it was a measure of the sheriff’s distrust of Heath, his
actions and information, that he opted to remain with the group near the camp,
rather than joining those that had the best chance of actually capturing some
of the raiders. Though the sheriff had not said so, he knew Liam believed there
would be no way to get to Audra before the murdering marauders tried to leave
with her, . . . . or worse.
Mindful of the possibility of being ambushed from above
and watching for the signaling flashes of light in case Nick and Heath had not
been successful in removing the lookout, Jarrod was relieved at their easy
entrance through the area. However, looking ahead to the dark green trees
bordering the lazy river that he knew lay hidden within them, Jarrod recalled
Heath’s warning about Garner’s double security perimeter.
Now, as Jarrod and the deputy joined the waiting group of
men, they were surprised to see more men there with the sheriff than they had
expected.
“What happened to the other group, Sheriff?” the deputy
asked.
“They were successful in stopping a little raid on your
ranch, Jarrod, over an hour or so ago. Apparently, the gang did split up and
decided that they would take advantage of your attention being diverted
elsewhere. But, our other group put a stop to that!” the sheriff exclaimed.
“Did they get them all?” Jarrod asked anxiously, “And did
they have anything to say about Audra?”
“No, they didn’t spend much time talking, just mostly
trying to get away. Apparently, they got all but one, and he disappeared back
into the trees before they could nab him.” Liam answered. “The bad news is that
the group in the camp will probably be warned now about our men on the road.
But, at least we don’t think the lone returning rider saw us, and the camp
wasn’t made aware of our presence because of the lookout on the ridge. He’s
over here.”
Jarrod’s eyes traveled to the sullen, grey-haired man
sitting on a brown horse a few feet away, his hands tied to his saddle horn.
The cold stare emanating from the man struck Jarrod as more ominously angry
than anything else.
“How did you catch him?” Jarrod asked.
“He was already taken care of when we arrived; your information
proved to be correct so far. He was tied up and waiting for us up there when we
went looking. All we had to do was put him on a horse,” Sheriff Forrest
replied, indicating the ridge with a sweep of his arm.
“So, I take it you now believe Heath?” Jarrod asked.
“No, Jarrod,” the sheriff answered. “Just because he led
Nick to one man in the gang doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved from the beginning.
He still has a lot of questions to answer to satisfy me. I remind you that I
had him in custody once, and he ran. That slants things against him pretty
heavily in my book.”
Jarrod listened as the sheriff gave his men directions
about what they might expect once they entered the trees. His skepticism about
the information Heath had shared remained evident in his tone and in his words.
* * * * * * * *
Nick estimated that he and Audra had traveled about half
the distance needed to make it out of the woods near where he and Heath had
left the three, tied-up men earlier. It had been a long time since they had
stopped, and they were both in desperate need of a rest. She had held up well
and without complaint, but she was so quiet, Nick was beginning to worry that
she was in some sort of shock.
“Audra, let’s stop and rest over here for a few minutes.”
He led her to a particularly large tree away from the more obvious path and,
after pouring some water on his bandanna, handed her the canteen. She took a
long drink and handed it back. He used the wet cloth to wipe off her red face
and then left it wrapped around the back of her neck.
With a sigh, Audra leaned back against the tree and closed
her eyes. One tear trickled from behind her closed eyelids. When she opened her
eyes again, Nick was pulling her into his arms and rocking her close to his
chest. Stroking her hair, he asked, “Are you okay?”
She smiled at him and nodded. Then, she said, “I knew
you’d come, Nick. I knew you wouldn’t let them hurt me. I kept thinking about
what you and Jarrod were probably doing right then. That kept me from being too
scared.” She looked straight into his concerned hazel eyes and said, “I knew my
big brothers would come.”
Then, she looked down at her wrists where he was lovingly
stroking the emerging bruises. Quietly, she said, “Nick? Why did you let him
stay there? He was hurt. I don’t like to think of him sitting up there watching
while we. . . . while we . . . . just abandon him.”
Nick stared down at her wrists and shook his head. “He
wouldn’t have come, Audra. You’re right, he is hurt. I think he knew he would
have just slowed us down, and he felt he could . . . .” Nick stopped and took a
deep breath.
“He did it to protect us, didn’t he?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah, Little Sis, he did it to protect us.” Then, Nick
stood and helped her up. “We’ve got to get moving again. Jarrod should be on
the other side of the river looking for us by now.”
Taking her by the arm, he propelled her toward safety.
* * * * * * * *
After designating one man to stay with the captured
lookout, the sheriff again split the men into two groups. He sent one half to
the right and the other to the left. Then, at the same time, the two groups
rode swiftly toward the trees at a sharp angle. Knowing they would be easy
targets for anyone in the trees bent on stopping them, they charged in at a
gallop, pulled up quickly, and swarmed into the trees. When they reached the
river with no shots fired, they looked at each other with relief and moved
forward in a widely dispersed formation to cross.
Shortly after fording, Jarrod heard one of the men to his
left call out. He saw Liam dismount and check out the figure of a lone guard
tied to a tree. Smiling, Jarrod knew this was a definite sign that Nick and
Heath had at least made it in this far. The sheriff left one of his men with
the guard, and they continued forward.
They had just discovered two more lookouts trying to undo
their bonds, when they heard shots in the woods well ahead of them. Figuring it
was too late for stealth, Liam gathered his men, converged on the trail, and
picked up the pace.
* * * * * * * *
Nick froze when he heard the sharp crack of rifle fire
behind them in the near distance. It wasn’t the first time he had heard the
Winchester since the two of them had left the crest of the hill. But before, he
could tell the shots were getting further and further behind them the more they
moved toward the river.
This was much closer. And there were other weapons; he
could tell from the sounds that at least one was a handgun from a slightly
different direction.
The questions assailed him as he strained to use his ears
to make sense of it. “What is happening?” Nick demanded of himself, as he
pulled Audra down behind a fallen log. “Is it him? What is he doing? Is he
chasing them, or are they coming after him? How do I help him?”
Then, his thoughts shifted from Heath to Audra. If the
shots were coming closer, this greatly increased her danger. Fighting his
natural inclination to go back, to go toward the action and assist, he knew he
had to get her out of here. Then, he could come back and help Heath.
“Let’s go!” Nick grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to
her feet. He started trying to run with her.
But, Audra resisted him. “No, Nick. You have to help him!”
“Audra, for the love of heaven, let’s go! If I can get you
to the river and to Jarrod, I’ll come back to help him, but not before! Now,
run!”
Chapter
22
Without taking his eyes off the camp below him, Heath
could hear Nick and Audra making their way behind him down the slope and
through the trees toward the river. He breathed a sigh of relief when nothing
below him moved, but the sounds behind him retreated safely.
“Boy Howdy, Heath, when ya’ talked to Sheriff Aston, ya’
never thought you’d be sitting here picking off Garner’s men one by one with
sniper fire!” he thought to himself.
No, he surely never wanted to find himself in this
situation again as long as he lived. He knew he would reproach himself for this
endlessly during his sleeping moments for the next few years. Solving problems
with sniper fire wasn’t in his heart as a way to obtain justice for anyone. It
was too easy to mistake innocent involvement for guilt, as well as the reverse,
from this distance.
He concentrated now on providing defense for Nick and
Audra’s escape, not on picking off any more raiders. Firing a few more rounds
into inanimate objects, he discouraged anyone from moving from their positions
of cover.
While he had a good view of the trail out of the camp, he
still couldn’t determine how many more men were pinned down. Though he guessed
there were only four or five, he began to worry that someone may have gotten
away before he started holding them down. Maybe, . . .
Startled by the rock fragments flying up from below him,
he ducked further behind the crest of the hill. The range of the pistol shots
fired had not been enough to reach him up to now. Someone must have finally
gotten to a rifle down there.
As he rocked back on the balls of his feet to move to a
new position, he was momentarily blinded by a flash of bright light inside his
head, a flash of light that blotted out the sun, the sky, and his targets
below. Clutching the rifle in both hands, he dropped forward onto his knees.
Leaning down, he pushed his head against the ground, while rocking back and
forth slightly to control the shattering assault. With his breath coming in
great ragged bursts, he fought to stay conscious, fought to stay in charge of
his senses.
Slowly, he was able to raise his head and open his eyes,
blinking back the tears that pooled behind his lids.
Stretching flat out on the ground, he crawled back up to
the edge of the rocks. When his vision cleared, he cursed himself, cursed the
pain. He grabbed his gear and pulled back again, this time crashing, sliding,
running down the hill toward the river. “No, dammit!” he yelled as he ran,
“No!”
The trail from the camp to the river started on the
opposite side of the camp from where the men had been pinned down by his
original shots during the fistfight. As he had regained the vantage point
moments before, he had seen at least three men make a dash for the trailhead.
Unable to get off a shot in time, he knew he had to catch them before they
overtook Nick and Audra. He had to reach the raiders before the men cut off
their escape.
Crashing down the slope, he tried to control his headlong
progress by using a bent-knee, bounding motion instead of a forward, all-out
run. While rougher on his knees and his pounding head, the slightly
leaned-back, almost galloping gait kept him more balanced and, by digging the
heels of his boots into the soft ground as he went, he could avoid pitching
forward and crashing into an uncontrollable, headlong roll.
Seething inside at his weakness from moments before, he
tried to focus on where he was, relative to the trail he knew was below and to
his right. With his attention split between his targets and his descent, he
failed to notice the partially-covered rocky area lying just even with the
surface and directly in his path. When his boots hit the nearly invisible rock
instead of the grassy ground he was expecting, they flew out from under him.
Scrambling to regain his balance without losing the rifle,
he hit the rock. . . . . hard.
A white hot arc of agony cascaded over him.
The sparks all around him caught fire inside his head.
An intense crash of thunder followed a blazing bolt of
lightning.
The sounds he focused on as he struggled out of the
blackness surrounding him were his own harsh breathing, his own gasps for air,
his own moans of overwhelming, agonizing pain.
Opening his eyes, he stared transfixed at his own hand
holding the rifle as it stretched across his chest.
Struggling to his knees, he stared numbly at the three
drops of bright red blood that dripped from somewhere to fall on his filthy
sleeve cradling the rifle.
Pulling himself to his feet, he wondered dully why the
soft, brown ground beneath him began to spin and why his only solid source of
stable support was the rifle he leaned on.
Staggering forward and searching for balance with every
step, he couldn’t remember why he was compelled to run crashing between the
trees when he couldn’t breath, when he couldn’t even walk.
Why was he in these woods, running, when he should be
riding Gal? Where was his horse?
Horse? Horses? He had been chasing some horses?
No, that wasn’t right. He shook his head, struggling.
He was trying to catch some men who had horses. No, he
was. . . .
There.
Just as he reached the bottom of the hill, it started to
come back to him in another blinding flash of light that caused him to cry out
and clutch at his head. He slammed into a small tree with one shoulder and,
letting it hold him up, he leaned into it to catch his breath.
There.
He remembered. Lloyd. Turk. He had to find them. He had to
find them before. . . had to find them before they found her.
He could see the blue-eyed blond girl inside his head, her
compassionate eyes asking for his help with the darkness and the flames all
around her. He closed his eyes and, as he fought for air, he heard her voice
soothing a frightened colt and asking him if he was coming to help her.
Willing his body to move in her direction, he knew he had
to get to her, had to keep the men from catching her again, had to stop them
from chasing her down.
He was running again.
He could feel his own heart pounding inside his head.
He could hear his own ragged breathing as he fought to
remain on his feet.
There.
He saw them. The three men he knew he had to stop were
slightly ahead and to his right. He could see the faded yellow of Lloyd’s
shirt, the dirty tan of Turk’s, and the pale green of another.
He used the angle of the slope to his advantage. Charging
toward them from above their left rear flank, he pulled the borrowed handgun
and brought it up to fire.
Still running, he brought the one in green to his knees
with his first shot.
Without any conscious thought, Heath dove and rolled,
coming up behind a tree to shoot the man in the chest again and topple him onto
his back. The dying man did not get off a shot.
Lloyd, however, kept running a few more paces and dove
behind a low rock along the trail, where he raised the muzzle of his rifle and
fired. Bark from branches of a nearby tree showered down on Heath, as he
frantically looked for the light brown of Turk’s shirt through the sparse
underbrush.
The next shot from Lloyd’s rifle hit the trunk of the tree
Heath was crouched behind. He did not return fire, still intent on fixing
Turk’s position, afraid that he had continued on without stopping.
There.
He spotted movement to the left of Lloyd’s position. Knowing
his own angle for a shot was limited, he knew he would have to take Lloyd
first, then move again in order to reach Turk. Firing once in Turk’s position
with the handgun to keep him pinned, Heath smoothly switched to the rifle.
Sighting along its length, he purposefully shot wide. Hoping that this would
ease Lloyd into relaxing from his cover, he repeated the maneuver, targeting
only a little closer than the first time.
Sure enough, Lloyd raised to take his own shot. Heath
aimed dead center and fired. The bullet hit its mark, while Lloyd’s shot never
left the chamber.
Taking an extra second to visually check both bodies for
any sign of movement, Heath was satisfied as to the result. Then, he turned his
attention to Turk.
“Where is he?” Heath’s mind screamed. But, the man in tan
was no longer in the same position. Never one to waste an opportunity or to
display loyalty when single-mindedness would do, Turk had taken advantage of
the attention Lloyd was receiving to sprint toward the river again.
Heath made sure he still had both of his borrowed weapons
and broke from cover.
Though he charged along the trail as hard as he could, he
quickly realized that he was losing ground on the man in front of him. Firing
occasionally, he was just as quickly losing hope that he would be able to find
a clear shot through the trees. His vision was not helping; the searing lights
were beginning to close in on him from the outside edges. Shaking his head to
clear it, Heath realized he couldn’t keep running for long.
But, he had to do something.
Finally, his breath coming in great gasps, he stopped.
“Turk!” he struggled to yell. “Turk! It’s Thomson!” He hoped his voice was loud
enough to carry. “I’m here. You’ve been wantin’ your chance. Here I am. Come
get me!”
He moved off the trail slowly to his right, then suddenly
dove for cover just in time to avoid the “zing” of a bullet whistling by his
left shoulder.
Turk had taken the bait.
Chapter
23
Just ahead through the trees, Jarrod could see movement.
The others saw it too. The men scrambled to dismount and find cover, preparing
for the battle to come.
Puzzled, the sheriff suddenly signaled for all the men
with him to hold their fire. They could all hear the sound of shots, but they
weren’t very close. The movement was.
He peered into the deep shade, trying to see who was out
there.
“Jarrod! Jarrod!” a familiar voice called out. “Is that
you, Jarrod?”
“Nick! We’re here!” Jarrod replied.
“Jarrod!” At the sound of Audra’s sweet voice, relief
cascaded through him like a high Sierra waterfall crashing down a rock face
after a spring thaw.
Pushing his horse through the congregated riders, Jarrod
rode toward his brother and sister and executed a perfect flying dismount.
Grabbing her and holding on fiercely, he thought his heart would burst with the
joy of seeing her smile, even through the tears streaming down her face.
Reaching out to pull Nick to him with his right hand, Jarrod squeezed the
darkly-clothed shoulder. He finally released Nick’s shoulder long enough to
reach for the back of his neck and pull him over to them.
Before Jarrod could grab him again, however, Nick leapt
into Jarrod’s saddle and sent his horse back down the trail at an urgent
gallop. “Nick!” he shouted.
Through her tears, Audra cried, “Let him go, Jarrod!”
Leading her over to sit by a tree, he requested a canteen
from one of the men. Squatting down beside her, he handed her the canteen,
watched while she drank, and asked, "Audra, where is he going?”
She looked up at him, more tears threatening to spill from
her brimming, blue eyes. “Oh, Jarrod, Heath is back there. Nick went to go help
him. Please, get the sheriff to go with you; I’ll be alright. Jarrod, you have
to go, too!”
Rising and turning, Jarrod sought the sheriff with his
eyes, “Liam! My brothers are in there! Please leave some men here with Audra.
We’ve got to go help them.”
Though, Liam looked at Jarrod sharply at his use of the
phrase “my brothers,” he knew the strain the lawyer was under and asked no
questions in front of the other men.
Oblivious to the consternation his words had caused,
Jarrod bent back down to his sister and said, “Will you be okay if I leave you,
Honey?”
“Yes, Jarrod, please go! He stayed behind to protect us.
Please, just go help him!” she cried.
He ran to borrow a different horse and galloped down the
trail to catch up with the sheriff and a few of his men.
* * * * * * * *
Shaking his head to clear it from his impact with the
ground, Heath concentrated on crawling back toward the trail. His own breathing
rasping in his ears, he knew that if he could just make Turk mad enough he
would come back to finish him off. If he could just make him mad enough he
would forget about Nick and Audra, at least long enough for them to escape.
He again saw the white hot sting of the bright lights
sizzling in the edges of his vision. He knew he had to hurry. “Come on, Turk!”
he hollered again, pausing to pant for enough air to finish the taunt. “You . .
. .can do better . . . .” the gasp caught in his throat. “Than that!” he
groaned out, lowering his head back to the dirt.
Closing his eyes, he tried to squeeze out the pain that
threatened to grind him into the ground. Bringing his pistol out of his
holster, he struggled to pull it even with his head, then, to push it out in
front of him. “Turk!” he hollered, lifting his shoulders by digging his elbows
into the ground. Finally, he leveraged his head up and forced his eyes open.
His vision was almost covered in hot, pulsing, flashes of
light; white, searing, strikes of pain-filled light; that tried to drive his
head back toward the ground. Searching for the tan shirt through the trees, he
swiveled the lead weight of the gun toward the movement to his right. He pulled
the trigger, but the bullet went wide.
Blinking rapidly, he taunted again through clenched teeth,
“Come on, Turk, . . . .ya know you’ve been. . . .just waitin’ for this. . .
.for this chance.” Dropping the gun he could no longer see well enough to use,
he closed his eyes and concentrated on reaching down into the side of his boot
for his knife.
As his searching fingers brought the hilt up toward his
thigh, Turk’s laugh cut through the agony and renewed his focused anger.
If he could just make Turk mad enough, he might not shoot
first, he might come closer, he might decide to take his time finishing him
off. Time was important, the anger burning deep inside reminded him. As Turk
hauled Heath to his feet and pushed him back against a rock, he knew every
second was critical. As the blows rained down on him, his head hit the rock and
the knife fell from his grasp. He struggled to remain on his feet and provide
the man in front of him a satisfying target for his fists. Every punch was
another couple of seconds, and his battered brain knew that time was important.
But, as the heat of the white light consumed the rest of
his vision, and Turk’s blows claimed the rest of his breath, he could no longer
remember why.
* * * * * * * *
As he galloped up the trail, Nick’s ears strained to hear
the sound of weapons’ fire. He was sure it had been more than 10 minutes since
he had last heard either the sound of a pistol or a rifle through the woods.
Fear gripped him.
Silence meant loss of a target. But, who was the target?
Had Heath, with his sharp shooting skills, finished off the raiders? Was he
just up ahead, trying to make his way on foot to the river? Or, was Heath the
target that had been silenced?
Drawing his revolver, Nick decided he had better proceed
more cautiously now. He didn’t think he was more than a quarter mile from where
he had heard the last shots. Taking a look around from his high vantage point
before dismounting, he thought he saw a glimpse of a light-colored movement not
too far ahead.
Tying his horse to a branch among the deeper trees, he
hoped it would be a signal to those that would probably follow him to continue
with caution.
Moving carefully forward, Nick thought he heard a voice
holler at someone. Was that Heath? Then, he cringed at the short report of a
single pistol shot. All he could think of as he started to run toward the
sound, was that he had left his brother behind to face the raiders alone.
As he got closer, he could see a man with a light-tan
shirt pounding his fists into a darker, duller, brown shape pinned against a
rock. “HEATH!” Nick yelled, as he dove and rolled to come instantly back up on
his feet behind a tree. Afraid to take a shot with the dark-headed man standing
in front of the one against the rock, Nick felt momentary satisfaction that at
least his yell had stopped the beating.
He flattened himself behind the tree as a bullet slammed
into a nearby trunk. Edging back enough to look for a clear shot of his own, he
saw the other man using the same rock for cover and saw Heath slumped to the
ground in front of the rock.
Heath was now between them.
With another incoming bullet striking nearby, Nick was
eager to return fire, but not willing to chance a miss from this distance. He
crouched down and looked for another way to gain the advantage. When he turned
back toward the rock, he was relieved to see that Heath had managed to reach
out by lying face down in the dirt and pull a pistol toward him. If he would
just stay down on the ground, Nick could get off a few shots at the man behind
him.
“No! Get down!” Nick yelled, as he watched Heath haul
himself back up to a kneeling position in front of the rock, the gun still in
his hand.
* * * * * * * *
Jarrod saw his own horse tied to a tree up ahead at the
same moment the sheriff’s hand came up for all of them to halt. Peering
intently into the trees, he listened to the shots and the shouts. Hearing Nick
holler close by, the men quickly dismounted and spread out. The sheriff and
Jarrod moved to the left of the trail and headed forward at a crouch.
As they worked their way around the bend in the trail,
Jarrod started to call out when he saw Nick behind a tree to their right. But,
looking to his left, the yell died in his throat as he saw Heath 75 yards away
facing Nick from his knees with a gun in his hand.
He felt the sheriff tense next to him and move into
position to fire. “Wait!” Jarrod yelled, reaching for Liam’s arm. Not
understanding why Jarrod was trying to keep him from protecting Nick, the
sheriff stiff-armed Jarrod away. He continued moving toward a break in the
trees from which he could take a shot at the man kneeling in front of the
rocks.
As he pushed off the tree behind him and regained his
feet, Jarrod saw Nick turn his head toward them. The look that flashed across
Nick’s face was sheer terror as he realized what the sheriff was going to do.
“No, Liam! Don’t shoot him!” Nick hollered.
The sheriff turned to look at Nick, and at that moment,
Jarrod saw a man in a tan shirt move around to the side of the rocks and take
aim at the sheriff.
Nick saw the movement at the same time. He dove from
behind the tree and fired two quick rounds. As they watched, each wondering
where the third shot had come from, the man in tan fell to the ground unmoving.
Nick jumped up from the hard-packed trail and began running toward the rocks.
Before he had taken two strides, however, Jarrod saw him jerk to a halt.
Jarrod’s eyes widened as he realized what had stopped Nick cold.
Silently, he stood up and walked toward his dark-headed
brother.
Together, guns drawn, they approached, with the sheriff
trailing quietly along behind them. Jarrod placed his hand on Nick’s gun arm as
he realized they were in no danger. He could feel the tension in the muscles of
the ironclad forearm.
When they reached the two men on the ground, it was Nick
who knelt by their brother and gently eased him up into his arms. “Heath?
Heath?” Nick asked as he turned the injured man over to face him. Relief
flooded his heart when he saw the sky blue eyes struggling to focus through a
grimace of pain. “Heath, are you hit?” Nick cried, the fear that one of his
bullets had found this battered young man instead of Nick’s intended victim,
forced all the air from his chest.
“Nick?” Heath asked. Then, through a gasp of pain, he
replied, “Not shot, . . .Nick. . . . just broken.”
“I’ve got you, Little Brother. You’re going to be okay.
You hear me? Stay with me, Heath. You’re going to be okay!” Nick implored.
“Is she. . . .?” Heath tried to ask, his eyes starting to
lose focus.
“Audra’s fine, Heath. She’s fine, except she’s worried
about you.” Jarrod spoke up as he approached from behind Nick.
Heath reached a hand up, and Jarrod grasped it. “Do you
hear me?” Jarrod asked, “She’s just fine.”
He gave a slight nod of his head. “Seems I just . . . just
keep findin’ myself . . . lookin’ up. . . up at you two!”
Nick squeezed his shoulders and said, “Well, Boy, you’re
not done looking up at us either. I have a feeling that when we get you home,
Mother’s going to insist on a lot of that for a while.”
Heath protested, “But, your mother?” He faltered and tried
again, “The sheriff. . . ?”
Nick cut him off, “No, Heath. Now it’s my turn to tell you
‘No.’ You’re going home with us. No discussion. You’re just going to have to
get used to having us around to look up at and up to!” Nick looked over at Liam
as he added, “And, don’t worry about the sheriff. He doesn’t want you taking up
space in his jail.”
Heath’s gaze shifted to Nick’s face at his words; then he
closed his eyes tightly as another onslaught of pain sliced through him.
Nick looked at Jarrod, the pain mirrored in his own face,
“Go get us a horse, Jarrod. This boy’s going home. Do you hear me, Sheriff?” He
directed his last statement at Liam Forrest, who was standing nearby after
examining the body behind them. “This boy’s my brother, and he’s going home.”
“Yeah, Nick, I hear you. We all do.” Sheriff Forrest
nodded. “Come on, I’ll help you get him in the saddle again, and this time I
won’t even think about tying him!”
As they prepared to help him stand, Nick told the closed
blue eyes, squeezed shut in anguish, what was going to happen next. The only
response was a slight nod. Once they had one of his boots in the left stirrup,
Heath assisted by throwing his right leg over. Opening his eyes again, he
struggled for breath and waited for the dizziness to subside.
Then, as Nick scrambled up on the horse’s rump behind him,
Heath tried to turn to glare at him. “Whattya think yer doin’?” He demanded
with a weary growl.
“Well, you weren’t going to make me walk all the way back
were you?” Nick responded. “Come on, let’s go get Audra and go home. Jarrod,
you coming?”
“Be right there, Brother Nick!” Jarrod answered.
As he and the sheriff turned to gather the weapons and
their remaining mounts, they heard Heath mumble something to Nick about Garner.
The sheriff’s head came up. “What did he say, Nick?”
“Do you mean you want to listen to him, now, Liam?” Jarrod
said with a grin.
“Okay, okay, Jarrod, I admit. It seems I was wrong about
him!”
Reining in his horse with hands that reached securely
around his battered brother, Nick responded, “He said something about you
finding Garner and another man further up the trail. I think he shot them.”
Looking at Jarrod, Nick added, “I think when you get to the camp, Sheriff, you
may find that he shot them all.”
He watched the disbelief spread over the two faces behind
him. “All, Nick?” Jarrod breathed.
“Well, I don’t know what happened after he talked me into
leaving with Audra, but before that, when he was fighting them off to keep them
away from her, away from us, he shot at least six of them. Probably, if he
didn’t shoot the others, he didn’t think they were much of a threat.” Nick
explained.
He waited until he got a nod from the sheriff before
nudging the horse into a strong walk.
Jarrod, mounted once again, turned to look at the sheriff.
“Are you going into the camp?”
“Yeah, I’ll take the rest of these men with me. We’ll go
see what’s left to clean up or carry off to the jail. You take the rest with
you. Oh, and send a couple of men into town with those lookouts we found
trussed up.” Liam stopped.
He took a deep breath and plunged ahead, “Your brother,
Jarrod? Running with a gang of raiders, then killing them off? I’m trying, but
I just don’t understand.”
Jarrod edged his horse closer to Liam Forrest and leaned
in to take him by the shoulder. “Liam, there’s a long story here, and I’m not
sure I understand it all myself, but let me ask you something. Do you have any
doubt after seeing that body,” Jarrod gestured toward the dead man by the
rocks, “That Heath is on our side?”
“No, Jarrod.” Liam said, thinking about the third shot
they’d heard just now and the three gunshot wounds the dead man had sustained,
two bullets apparently from Nick’s gun and a third at close range, from Heath’s
weapon. He added, “ I have no doubt.”
“Fine, then. I tell you what. When you finish up here,
give us all a day or two to sort things out at home. Then, you come by the
ranch, and we’ll figure out the rest of it together,” Jarrod replied.
Then, he turned his horse to catch up with his brothers.
Chapter
24
A little while later, Jarrod slid off his horse to give
Audra a much-needed embrace. She was standing next to the horse Nick and Heath
were sharing, with a hand touching each dusty left boot, when he turned her
toward him slightly. Even through his hug, he could see that her eyes
constantly sought Heath’s face, looking past the dirt, past the blood, for a
sign of consciousness.
“Jarrod, is he alright?” She asked quietly. “He’s been
bleeding again.”
“It looks like it has about stopped though, and yes, I
think he will be okay, Honey. Right now, we need to get you both home.”
She looked up at him with questioning, but smiling eyes,
the tears threatening again. “Home? Yes, let’s hurry, Jarrod. Let’s go home.”
She said eagerly.
“Can you ride, Sweetheart, or do you want me to go with
you?” Jarrod asked.
“I’m fine, Big Brother.” She demonstrated by mounting the
borrowed horse on her own and turning for the ranch.
After relaying the sheriff’s instructions to the men, and
sending one rider to retrieve the horses left further up river, the four
children of Tom Barkley turned for home and the woman that they knew waited for
them there.
* * * * * * * *
“Nick. Nick!”
Jarrod was ready to charge past Nick and physically block his path to get his
attention, when the man on the back of the horse leading the way finally turned
his head to acknowledge him.
“What is it, Jarrod?” Nick’s voice sounded very tired, but
his eyes had a determined set to them.
“Nick, why don’t we stop and rest before going all the way
in?” Jarrod asked, but Nick just shook his head and kept riding. Audra and
Jarrod exchanged glances. Jarrod tried again, “Nick, how about if I trade
places with you. Let me take a turn with him.”
“No. We’re fine.” Nick answered. “In fact, I think we can
pick up the pace a little. I don’t think he’ll feel it. He’s out cold.”
As he finished speaking, he tightened his hold around the
injured Heath, and moved his horse from the gentle lope into a smooth gallop.
Audra and Jarrod followed.
It was only a few more miles to the ranch.
* * * * * * * *
Victoria had waited as long as she could. She had told
herself she would give them another hour before taking a couple of men and
heading in the direction of the ridges on the map they had studied.
But, she couldn’t wait any longer. She wanted, no needed,
to know what was happening.
Instead, she wasted no more time in mounting her horse and
heading out with two hands trailing behind her. She had already sent a message
into Stockton asking the doctor to drive out to the ranch when he could,
assuring him that she would provide a late supper for his trouble even if the
trip turned out to be unnecessary. But, something told her they would be
needing the doctor before it was all said and done. What had Nick called it,
“Hedging our bets?” No, Nick wasn’t the only one that could do that. She could,
too.
As she rode toward the river beyond Oak Flats, she thought
about all that had happened in the last few days. They had been through so
much, Audra’s narrow escape in the canyon, the attack on the neighbors, the
raid on the ranch and the fire that followed, the shock of seeing Heath for the
first time, and now, Audra’s kidnapping.
She needed to see her children, spend time with them, and
just hold them close in her arms and in her heart. She needed to know that they
were alright!
Suddenly, she realized with a gasp that she could see
three riders coming toward her. Only three? With both joy and fear battling in
her mind, she pushed her mare to increase her pace.
* * * * * * * *
The closer they got to each other, the image of three
riders soon resolved itself into four, with two of them sharing one horse. With
a sense of relief that surprised her in its intensity, she joyously recognized
all four of them as her family.
“Mother!” Audra’s one-word exclamation as soon as they
were within shouting distance, sent Victoria Barkley’s heart soaring.
As Nick reluctantly slowed his horse, mother and daughter
brought each of their mounts to a standstill beside each other and shared an
awkward hug across the small space that still separated them. Turning her horse
around so they could all continue toward the ranch, Victoria and her daughter
rode side by side, holding hands.
When Victoria could take her eyes off of Audra, she
checked over the other three with grateful, but concerned, grey eyes. She
wanted to touch them all, but contented herself with holding fiercely to the
hand in hers.
Jarrod gave her a confident smile and nod of his head when
she sought him out with her eyes. Nick remained in front of her, eager to get
going, only turning his head at her in acknowledgement.
Then she asked, “Nicholas, are you both alright?”
As he nodded, picked up the lope again, and left them
behind, she turned her eyes back to Jarrod. He said quietly, “We just need to
get to the house, Mother.”
She and Audra squeezed each other’s hands once more, and,
letting go reluctantly, picked up their pace to follow.
* * * * * * * *
Nick, assisted by the two hands who had been following
Victoria, was carrying Heath inside the front door when the other three entered
the front gates.
“I’ll help Nick with Heath, Mother,” Jarrod told Victoria
as they approached the house. “You get Audra settled.”
Victoria and Audra wrapped each other in a tight embrace
as soon as they dismounted. Fighting back her tears of relief, Victoria
smoothed back Audra’s disheveled blond hair and took her face in both hands.
Staring into her daughter’s eyes, she said, “I was so afraid for you. Are you
alright, truly? They didn’t hurt you?”
Her daughter shook her head, “No, Mother, there was a
moment when I thought one of them was going to, but Lloyd stopped him. The only
thing that hurts are my wrists.”
Taking a careful look at her daughter’s hands and pulling
her into another embrace, Victoria said, “Come on, Sweetheart. You need to take
a long soak in the tub. By the time you’re finished, the doctor should be here,
and he can check your wrists for us.” Together, they headed inside the house
and up the staircase.
Once she felt satisfied that Audra was settled, Victoria
entered the room where Nick and Jarrod were working over Heath. They had
removed his dusty, torn, and blood-spattered clothing, and Jarrod was carefully
trying to soak and remove the filthy bandages. Taking over from him, Victoria
tried to avoid causing more bleeding. However, she was only partially
successful.
The gash cut by the path of yesterday’s bullet began to
seep bright, red liquid once again.
Concern mounted as she realized how angry and inflamed the
skin around the open wound had become since she saw it last. The heat radiating
off of his soaked, muddy face and his lack of response as she worked over him
added to her worry.
“Nick, how long has he been unconscious?” she asked.
“Well, the last time he said anything was when, Jarrod?
When he told me about Garner?”
“That was the last time I heard him, Nick.” Jarrod agreed.
“I guess that was about two hours ago, Mother.” Nick
explained. “Is he going to be alright? Did either of you send someone for the
doctor?”
“I sent for him over an hour ago, Nick,” she responded.
Without looking, she knew Nick’s eyebrows would be raised at that statement.
“Why don’t the two of you go get cleaned up and get some rest. I’ll stay with
him until the doctor comes. It shouldn’t be long.”
Neither moved, but stood looking down at the brother that
had become so important to each of them in such a short period of time.
Finally, Nick walked over to stand with his hands on Victoria’s shoulders,
looking down at the battered figure on the bed.
She reached up and put her hand over one of his as it
rested on her shoulder. “Go, Nick. You’re filthy. Go get cleaned up, Son.”
Nick just stood there, even after Jarrod had turned and
headed for the door. Trying to understand this change in her son, this
protectiveness, this reluctance to leave, she glanced at Jarrod, who was
looking back at them, his eyebrows raised.
Finally, she felt Nick stir behind her, and she strained to
hear his unusually quiet voice, “Mother, I’ll come back in a little while. I
want to sit with him. I want him to know I’m here, right beside him, when he
comes around.” Nick squeezed Victoria’s shoulders and she patted his strong
hand with her small one.
As he released her and they turned to leave, they both
heard her say, “Hurry home, Heath. Your family is here waiting for you. Hurry
home!”
Chapter
25
When the doctor left, Victoria asked Silas to sit with
Heath for a while so the others could talk downstairs. While the faithful man
agreed, getting Nick to comply was much tougher.
“Nick, come on. We need to talk. Silas can call us when he
wakes up. He doesn’t even know you’re here, Son.” Victoria said.
“Mother, I need to stay here. We can talk about it all
later, but, right now, I need to be here with him. Please!” Nick insisted.
Jarrod tried to intervene, “Nick, Mother’s right, he can’t
hear you. No, not even you, Little Brother.” Jarrod said, grinning at Nick’s
glare. Then, he added, “Come on, I’ll fix you a drink.” He laid his hand on
Nick’s shoulder and tried to turn him toward the door.
“NO!” Nick thundered, pulling away. “Jarrod, Mother,
please listen to me. I left him once today. I cannot leave him again. I have
to. . . “
“Nnnn-iii-ccc-kkkk?”
Turning at the sound of the faint voice, Nick strode
quickly to the bed and sat down next to the bruised and battered body. Pulling
the blanket up another inch and tucking it gently around the injured side a
little more firmly, he said, “Heath. Heath, I’m right here with you, Boy!”
Amazed, the others watched silently. Victoria stood with
both her hands holding Jarrod’s arm in a tight grip.
The pale blue eyes fought their way up out of a dark,
endless void. They sought the hazel eyes and the strong voice that now
supported him, even through the crushing pain.
“Nick?” Heath said again with hardly more than a whisper,
his tossing head still searching.
“Come on, Boy, you can do it. Open your eyes. I’m right
here.” Nick reached over to grasp the well-muscled shoulders that were starting
to thrash back and forth on the bed. “Whoa, there. Lie still. I’ve got you.”
“Nick.” The blue eyes finally opened a slit and found the
gaze of the man at the other end of the strong hands that held and encouraged
him. “Is Audra. . . .?”
Taking a deep breath, Nick saw a sharp grimace of pain
cross the face below him. “She’s fine, Heath. She’s fine. You just rest, now.
You did good, Boy. She’s fine. Thanks to you, we all got out of there alive.”
He could feel the tension leave the younger man at his
words. The blue eyes looking up into his focused again, and Nick felt Heath
reach up to grasp him on his arm.
As the pain-filled eyes closed once more, Nick heard Heath
breathe, “Together, Nick. . . . We did it, together.”
* * * * * * * *
Audra’s wrists were wrapped in fresh, white bandages, and
she was smiling. Happy to be sitting upstairs with Heath for a little while,
she was hoping that, despite the medication the doctor had left for him, he
would awaken enough for her to thank him for all he had done to help her.
Though her mother had agreed to let her have a little time
by his side, she had made her daughter promise to limit herself, insisting that
she go to bed within the hour. She knew Jarrod intended to take the late night
shift. In the meantime, she was content to sit with him, even knowing that the
others were downstairs discussing the events of the last few days without her.
Somehow, just sitting here with this young man, even with him both asleep and
unaware, made her feel safe, protected, and loved.
Occasionally, she could hear someone’s voice drift up the
stairs and down the hall toward her. But, mostly, she just concentrated on what
she wanted to say to him when he awoke.
Downstairs, Nick was wearing out the rug by furiously
walking back and forth.
“Nicholas, please stop pacing and sit down with me,”
Victoria asked again. “Everything is going to be fine. He’s going to be fine.”
“I know, I know.” Nick responded, his long-legged strides
across the length of the room never slowing.
Jarrod, speaking from in front of the fireplace, tried
next, “Nick, Doc Merar said, that with a lot of rest, he’ll be back on his feet
again in a few days. He’s hurt, Nick, but he’s not in any danger any more. He’s
going to be fine now that he’s here with us.”
Watching his brother continue to pace, Jarrod tried to
probe to find out what was causing the agitation they could clearly see, “I
don’t understand, Nick. Audra’s home safely, you seem to have accepted Heath,
and no one is seriously hurt. What else is bothering you?” Then, he asked,
“Nick, are you worried about the sheriff? With the gang taken care of, I don’t
think Heath is in any trouble with Liam.”
Nick shook his head. Then, he abruptly stopped pacing and
sat down on the marble-topped table in front of his mother’s chair. With his
shoulders slumped, he put his head in his hands and began running his fingers
through his dark hair.
Then, Nick glanced up at Jarrod, who was leaning on the
mantle, and quickly back down. “You’re my brother, Jarrod. You’ve been my
brother all these years, since before I was born, even. You know what we mean
to each other. And, you know I’ve adored Audra, my little sister, since I knew
I was going to be a big brother. Today, I was wild with anguish when I saw that
man, that Turk, trying to kiss her in that camp. I fought with Heath, trying to
get him to let go of me, trying to get down the hill into that camp, trying to
get her away from that beast. I was totally blinded to the danger I was running
into. I think I knocked Heath senseless; I’m not sure.” Nick took a deep
shuddering breath. “I know I hurt him.”
All three remained silent for a few moments.
Then, Nick started speaking again. “But, somehow, he was
still with me. He shot the guard above Audra on the rock, just as I barreled in
and she bolted toward me.” He paused again, seeing that critical split second
again in his mind. “If Heath had not taken that shot, if he had not taken out
that guard, the sister I love so much would probably be dead right now. We
would probably both be dead. And, the two of you would have lost us both.”
Victoria reached out to take hold of Nick’s hands,
stilling their frenzied path through his hair. He looked up into her eyes.
Nick took a deep breath. “By the time I got her out of the
camp and up that steep slope, he had shot four or five more men while trying to
provide us with cover. Jarrod,” he looked over at his dark-headed brother
again, “It was at least 200 yards into that camp. I don’t think he missed what
he aimed at, not once.”
Jarrod’s eyes widened as another piece from the events of
the previous day at the Drumm’s slid into place, as another supposition was now
verified. Heath was a marksman with a rifle and had the skill to be deadly in
almost unbelievable circumstances.
“When we decided an attempt had to be made to get Audra to
safety,” Nick stopped again, his jaw tightening, “Jarrod, . . . Mother, you
can’t know what it felt like for me to try desperately to talk him into coming
with us and to hear him refuse. I was suddenly scared that I was going to lose
him, lose this connection to Father that you all saw before I did. I was
terrified that I was going to lose my brother before I got to know him. But, I
didn’t have much room to argue. I knew he was right. One of us had to cover the
other in order to get her to the river.”
Nick squeezed Victoria’s hands, and standing, let go of
her so he could resume his anguished pacing. “I knew he was right. He was
clearly a better shot with a rifle, he knew the camp better than I did, and. .
. .”
Nick turned away to look out of the double doors and into
the darkness beyond. They could barely hear his next words, “And, we both knew
he was hurt, too hurt to run much more.”
He turned back to face them. “It made sense that I would
take her and go, that he would stay there and defend us.” After a brief pause,
Nick added, “We left him there, but, it nearly tore me in half to do it.”
Standing there with his fists clenched, he sought Jarrod’s eyes with his own. “I
reminded him of what you said to both of us earlier today, Pappy.”
Then, looking at Victoria, he said, “And I told him what
you said to me this morning, Mother, when you sent us to look for him. I told
him you wanted him here, wanted him home, and I tried to promise him that we
were all going home together. I told him I would come back for him.”
He turned away again and took several long strides to the
open, outside doorway and stood there.
Victoria, tears trickling down her face, stood up to
follow him. Halfway across the room, she turned back and looked at Jarrod. He
was still standing, leaning against the mantle, but was staring down at his
boots. Quietly, she asked, “What did you say to them, Jarrod?”
Raising his head from the memory of it, he looked into her
tear-stained eyes and said, “I told them both to be careful out there. I told
them that we weren’t interested in trading one Barkley for another.”
Moments later when her arms wrapped around the broad back
and chest of her hazel-eyed son, she felt the emotion coursing through him.
“Mother, . . . ,” Nick’s voice faltered. Then, he continued, imploring her to
understand. “I tried hard not to see what you and Jarrod saw in him, what you
saw in him that reminded you of Father. I tried hard not to believe it. But, .
. .” he hesitated again, before continuing, “Today, when we had to make that
decision to get Audra away from that camp, . . . I felt like I was right beside
Father again. We both had the same thing in mind. The only thing that mattered
to me was the only thing that seemed to matter to him, getting our sister out
of there safely. He never wavered. Everything he did, everything he gave, he
did it for her, just like Father would have if he had been there. He protected
her, Hell, he protected both of us, with his life.”
Nick stopped and gave in to the pain his heart was in. He
raged, “I went off and left him, Mother. I left him there to fight them off by
himself. I did exactly what Jarrod and I told him we didn’t want to do, I
traded one Barkley for another. And, it hurt so badly! I had just found him; it
was like finding Father’s spirit again inside me, beside me. I couldn’t lose
Heath, I couldn’t lose him, again!”
“Nick, Honey. You weren’t abandoning him. You both agreed
it had to be that way. You both knew you were each offering the very best you
had to give, not for yourselves, for Audra! To protect her!” Victoria beseeched
him.
But Nick was lost in the word she had used. Audra had used
it, too, earlier in the day. It reverberated through him now. “Didn’t I? Yes, I
did abandon him, just like Father. . .” Nick froze. What he had been about to
say was the one thing he couldn’t say. But, it was too late.
She knew. He felt Victoria pull away from him, felt her
remove her cheek from where it had been resting on his back moments before. He
let out a long sigh and turned in her arms to look down at her, to face her.
“I’m sorry, Mother.” He said quietly, painfully. “I
shouldn’t have even thought that.”
“Finish it, Nick!” she demanded.
When he didn’t respond, she took his face in her hands
again and looked up lovingly into the hazel pools of agony that were his eyes.
“You were about to say that you abandoned him today just like your father must
have abandoned him years ago.” The tears were now in her voice, as well as on
her face.
He reached up to wipe them from their tracks.
“Nick, I know there are unanswered questions, unaddressed
issues, and I know it is going to be incredibly hard for all of us. But, the
one thing we cannot do, absolutely cannot do, is try to protect each other from
our own feelings. We have to say what we are thinking and feeling, deal with it
all here together, inside these walls, so we can help each other handle
whatever it all brings on us from the outside. But, mostly, we have to do this
together, honestly, openly, for Heath. He deserves that and so much more from
us. He’s the one that this is going to hit the hardest, it already has.”
Taking a deep breath and squeezing the hands that were
still touching her face, she continued, “But, Nick, with you and all of us
helping him, I believe that he will someday soon be able to call this his home,
call all of us his family—especially you, Nick.”
With a flash of light growing brighter and stronger from
deep inside her, inspiring her words and assuring her in what she was about to
say, she added, “I believe that someday, the two of you are going to become
beyond brothers, Nick Barkley.”