by
Sandi H.
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.
The sun was just peeking over the eastern horizon, but no one would have known it in the darkened recovery room when Heath began to come to the groggy realization that he was flat on his back with his leg wrapped in hard plaster hanging from some medieval torture device. He groaned as pain began to assault his whole body the moment he opened his eyes. Dr. Hyland, who had dozed off in the chair next to his patient, quickly came to when he heard Heath’s groans. Shaking his head to help the sleep flee from him, Dr. Hyland bent over Heath’s bed so that the cowboy could focus his pain filled eyes on the doctor’s features.
“I see you’re waking up, young man. Look at me now. Come on Heath.” The doctor cupped Heath’s face in his two hands until Heath’s gaze fell onto the doctor’s face and held steady.
Wincing in pain as a spasm shot through his leg, Heath, with some effort to speak around his parched throat croaked, “Who are you? Where am I?”
Dr. Hyland looked into his patient’s ocean blue eyes, seeing that it was still a struggle for the man to hold them open. “Heath, you’re in a hospital. Now I’m sure you’re feeling quite a bit of pain right now. That’s because you have a badly broken leg. That there device that’s holding your leg suspended, that’s called traction. It’s going to help make your leg better.”
Heath sighed and grunted as he attempted to raise his head off of the pillow to get a better look at his predicament. “Take it easy son.” Dr. Hyland grasped both of Heath’s shoulders and gently yet firmly restrained any further unnecessary movement from the man. “You’ve got to lie still now. The reason your leg is in that plaster is because the break caused your bone to protrude through the flesh. We’ve gone in and mended the bone back together but it is very important that you don’t try to move your leg or it could further damage it. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” Heath answered with a long exhale. “Hurts somethin’ fierce, doc. Pressure.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to feel quite uncomfortable for awhile but hopefully with some medicine, you’ll be able to rest.”
Heath licked his rough dried lips. “Don’t want medicine. Can’t think when I ta..take that stuff. Thirsty.”
“Here son, let me get you some water.” The doctor didn’t acknowledge Heath’s hesitation about further medication for pain. He would deal with that matter as time went along. Instead, he went to a sink that was in the corner of the room and soon came back with a glass of cool water. Supporting Heath’s head with one strong arm, Dr. Hyland supported the cowboy so that he could drink deeply of the thirst quenching liquid. When Heath had had enough, the doctor slowly lowered the blond onto the pillow. Heath studied the doctor hovering above him for a moment, his brows knitted in confusion. “Why, why do ya have that cloth over your face?”
Dr. Hyland smiled under his mask and touched it lightly with a gloved hand. “That’s so that you are protected from any germs that I might be carrying. We wouldn’t want you to pick up any infection now would we?”
“Germs?” Heath’s eyebrows unfurled and now shot up in recognition. “My br..brother Gene knows something about those germs. He’s away now. Been gone for quite awhile.” Heath efforts to communicate were quickly tiring him. “Can’t..can’t see germs.” Heath tried again to move to alleviate the pressure and pain his leg was causing. Dr. Hyland laid his hands on the young Barkley and shushed him, discouraging any further movement. Heath inhaled deeply and contorted his face as a hot wave of pain passed over him. Dr. Hyland took one of Heath’s big weathered, calloused hands in his. Slowly Heath exhaled and murmured groggily, “Gene, got ma..mad at me. Elves and fairies, that’s..that’s what I called ‘em.”
The good doctor listening to this muzzy one way conversation was intrigued and asked the almost slumbering man about what was it that he called ‘elves and fairies’, only half expecting an answer.
“Why germs doctor,” Heath slurred allowing his eyes to shut and darkness to reign once again. Dr. Hyland was almost startled when his patient spoke again thinking he was fully asleep. “Thought, thought you la de da doctors knew all about them there critters.” The doctor chuckled softly as Heath’s hand relaxed in his and his breathing became even and steady. So far, so good but the veteran doctor knew it would not be a good thing to get his hopes up too high. With complicated cases like this, the ride was generally a very bumpy one. While one moment, the patient could be improving; the next could see elevated temperatures and all out war efforts to combat a fever.
The family was gathered for breakfast in the dining room of the hotel when Jarrod joined them at their table.
“Jarrod darling,” exclaimed Victoria. “Where have you been? I knocked on your door this morning but didn’t get any answer.”
“Sorry mother.” The lawyer gave his mother a gentle squeeze around her shoulders and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Had to go out and send a telegram. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Telegram?” Nick queried, looking up from his plate of eggs. “Who’d you send a telegram to?”
“To sheriff Madden, Nick. Wanted to see if their investigation had turned up enough evidence to have the Morton boys jailed for their part in this thing.”
At just the name, Morton, Nick’s eyes narrowed and his face took on a steely scowl. “Well, they’d better be in jail if they know what’s good for them,” he growled.
Looking over at his hot-tempered brother, Jarrod went on. “Well yeah. That would be the best for everyone involved. I’ve asked for a reply right away. The telegraph office will have a runner bring the reply over to the hospital when it comes through.”
Victoria watched as Audra pushed her food around on her plate. “Audra dear, you must eat something.”
The beautiful blonde sighed. “I’m not really hungry, mother.”
“I know you aren’t sweetheart, but you’ve got to eat something to keep your strength up. We’ve got a long day ahead of us and you do want to be strong for your brother don’t you?”
The thought of her brother lying in that hospital, the one whom she loved to talk to and confide in, as well tease good-naturedly, brought stinging tears to her eyes. “Oh mother, do you think we’ll be able to see him today?”
Victoria looked at her daughter as she felt her own tears prick her eyes. With a crack in her voice, she answered, “I don’t know Audra. I don’t know.”
“Well, I don’t know how those city doctors expect him to get well if he can’t see his family.”
All eyes turned to Nick as he expressed what they had all been feeling.
“Let’s all wait and see,” suggested Jarrod calmly. “Perhaps Heath will be stable, as the doctors say. Stable enough for us to see him.”
“Well I hope he is, pappy,” Nick stated. “It’s just not a good thing for a brother and son NOT to see his family when he needs them so badly. Surely the doctor can see that.”
“Nick, the doctor said something about germs and infection,” Victoria reminded him.
“Hang those germs!” Nick shouted, his voice rising to a thunderous volume.
“Nick!” Jarrod laid his hand on his brother’s arm to calm him. “This is not your show. If we were at home and somebody told you how to run the ranch, THEN you’d have the right to protest. This is NOT yours to rule, brother. You are NOT in charge. We can SUGGEST that it would be to Heath’s best interests for someone to be with him right now but that’s ALL we can do. It’s up to the DOCTORS IN CHARGE to determine when he can and cannot have visitors.”
Nick knew Jarrod was probably right. He heaved a loud sigh in recognition of that fact. Still, to be separated from his brother, his best friend, who might be awake right now, calling out to him this very moment, was almost too much for him to bear.
Jarrod knew that Nick was trying to hold it all together and watched as his brother’s hand trembled as he drained the last of his coffee. Once again the oldest brother, the one fondly referred to as “pappy”, reached out and squeezed Nick’s shoulder. “We’ll talk to the doctors. Maybe Heath will be able to have some visitors today.”
Every one of the Barkleys felt a strange sense of trepidation as they walked through the double doors into the waiting lounge of the hospital.
Jarrod’s brow seemed in a permanent furrow as he challenged his brain to come up with the best way to approach the attending doctors to get at least Nick in to see Heath.
Victoria walked with a purposeful stride through the doors but her busy hands never left off fiddling with the lacy white hanky that she continued to grip, twist, fold and crush in her palms.
Nick’s whole body language told how he was feeling. His fists remained clenched as he came into the lounge and soon they planted themselves defiantly on his hips. And then he began to pace. He paced back and forth, sighing loudly as the frustration of not being able to see his brother grew. He paced like a man in a cage ready to break out. Jarrod wanted to tell him to sit down and relax but chose not to say anything at all. He knew it wouldn’t do any good. Nick was full of pent up energy and if he wasn’t pacing, he’d be yelling. Pacing was less disruptive.
Audra’s constant nervous chatter helped her to deal with her frayed emotions. Victoria knew this was her daughter’s way to deal with the uncertainness of the situation that she felt so she let Audra prattle on. Nick was not so understanding and when he could bear it no longer, turned to face his sister.
“Audra! Will you let it rest for a moment? Your constant talking makes my teeth ache!” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he felt instant regret. The stricken look on his beautiful sister’s face just about sliced right through his heart. “Oh honey! I’m so sorry.” He went to her and drew her into his arms.
“Oh, Nick!” Audra collapsed her face into her brother’s strong chest and wept. “I’m so afraid. I’m so afraid for him.”
“There there. Hey, shhh shhhh. Don’t cry. I’m sorry Audra. I’m so sorry.” The two siblings remained together locked in their embrace. Audra had always looked to her brother Nick as her protector. In his arms, she felt that everything would somehow be all right. Sniffing back her tears, she looked up at Nick and with a weak smile she said, “I’m alright now. It will be alright, big brother. You just wait and see.”
Victoria had urged Dr. Merar the night before to take the early train back to Stockton to tend to the residents there, as he was only one of two doctors they had in the whole town. Reluctantly he had done so, knowing he had a duty towards many. Still, he requested that the family inform him of any turn for the worse that Heath might experience. Last night, had taken Victoria’s small dainty hands in his weathered large ones and smiled at her with all sincerity. “I hope that I’ll not receive any telegrams from you while you’re here. He’s a strong man, Victoria. He’ll beat this thing. He’s just got to.”
Just then Drs. Anderson and Hyland came from the direction of the recovery wing of the hospital. Both were smiling. Extending his hand, Dr. Hyland first greeted Jarrod then Nick, Audra and lastly Victoria.
Seeing the smiles on both doctors faces, Victoria felt her heart skip a beat as hope surged through her veins. “Doctors? How is Heath this morning? How did he do last night? Is he awake?”
Dr. Hyland invited the family to be seated in the lounge, choosing a secluded corner where he could fill them in on Heath’s progress. “Well family, I’m happy to report that right now Heath is doing quite well, considering what he’s been through. When he first awoke, he was quite disorientated but we got him through that spell and now he is sleeping fairly well at present.”
Both Victoria and Audra let out an audible sigh of relief and Audra reached out to hug Dr. Hyland.
“That’s how things stand right now.” All eyes turned to Dr. Anderson as he began to speak. “And indeed, the news sounds very good right now, but we cannot be fooled. The truth of the matter is, that boy’s condition could turn at anytime. He is in a very critical time period of his recovery. I say this not to frighten you but to simply be realistic. Heath is very vulnerable right now to many things. Infection, fever, respiratory complications, clotting and a host of other maladies. We MUST be vigilant. That is why I have a team of two doctors with him at all times. We must be very very careful to keep him away from anything that might endanger his chances to beat this thing.”
“Doctors?” Jarrod had stepped forward to make his plea. “Can he have visitors? Surely you must know the importance of family contact in helping a patient speed along his recovery. With Heath, I am hear to say that family contact will be especially vital.” Jarrod looked to his mother and to his brother and sister. He put on his most persuasive lawyer face and began to tell the story, hoping to accomplish what he needed to achieve without hurting his mother who was listening.
“You see gentleman, Heath was not always with us. He was not always been in the fold of this family. He came to us less than a year ago. My father had committed an act of indiscretion with another woman over twenty four years ago. That act lead to Heath. We didn’t know anything about him until he came riding onto the ranch claiming his heritage. His story, though we doubted it at first, why I myself tried to pay him off to get him to leave, turned out to be true. We gained a brother, literally overnight. Now why am I telling you this? For this reason. Heath came to us not only looking for the riches of being a Barkley. Though he came to us with nothing but the clothes on his back, a rifle and a few personal items from his saddlebags, that was not the main thing that boy was looking for. Do you know what he was looking for? He was looking for a family. A family to lean on when the going got rough. A family to support him in times of need.. A family to love him. A family he could love. He needed, desperately needed his family. That is why he came to us. And you know what? We needed him just as badly. Oh, admittedly, it took some of us longer to come to that realization.” Jarrod moved his eyes momentarily to Nick and the focused again on the faces of the two healers whose fate Heath’s life lay in. “But once that fact took precedence, no greater love could this man Heath have than that of his mother, his sister and his brothers. The point that I’m trying to make here is, Heath NEEDS TO FEEL THAT LOVE. He is fragile in a way when it comes to family relationships. He’s not used to having love shown to him, he being dependent on just himself mostly for much of his life. He’s GOT TO KNOW that we love him by us BEING THERE with him, to help him to heal and move away from this tragedy. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
To Jarrod’s relief, both men smiled and shook their heads. “Mr. Barkley, I had no idea,” Dr. Hyland stepped forward and put his arm around his shoulder in a gesture of comprehension. “You put forth a strong argument for your brother. You must care for him deeply. I believe Heath, being that he is presently stable, would benefit from a short visit from his family members. However, I must stipulate that only one of you may visit at this time and it must be a short visit. We’ll just have to go from there for more of you to come into his room. He is very weak right now and very susceptible to any little bacteria that’s floating about. Also, after it has been determined who will go into the room with Heath, that person will be required to be gloved and have a face mask over his or her nose and mouth at all times to prevent the possibility of bringing in any germs that might cause infection. Is that understood?”
“Yes doctor. We do understand and we are most grateful.”
“Very well then. Do you know who you would like to send into the room to be with Heath?”
Jarrod turned to his mother, silently asking her to make this call as the matriarch of the family.
“Doctor, if my family agrees, I believe that it should be Nick who will go in first to see his brother.”
Nick had been listening intently to Jarrod and his telling of Heath’s arrival to the family. His heart fairly was bubbling over with a fierce love for the younger brother he had always wanted. When he learned it would be he that would get to sit by his brother’s side after nearly losing him to those scum Morton’s, a big grin spread across his face. He jumped up and before he could stop himself, let out a whoop of gladness that surely Heath would have been able to hear even through the two sets of doors that lead to his bed. Heath and everyone else on that floor of the hospital.
“Nick!” Victoria looked sternly at her middle son.
“Oh, sorry mother.” Nick looked sheepishly at the doctors who grimaced at his exuberance. “Sorry doctors. When can I see him?”
“Right now if you’d like. Please come this way. The rest of you, if you’d like to come as well, you can look through the glass in the door of his room. Come Mr. Barkley and I will get you some gloves and help you with your face mask.”
Dr. Hyland opened the door to Heath’s room and stepped quietly through the door. Nick followed close behind, his normal black leather gloved hands now swaddled in sterile white cotton gloves. His nose and mouth hidden under a swathe of cloth covering his face. Suddenly Nick stopped in the doorway. An unexpected wave of fear mixed with apprehension froze him momentarily in his footsteps. Willing himself to step forward, he took a deep breath hoping it would relieve the tight band squeezing his chest. He let the expelled air hiss slowly through his teeth.
Nick had tried to prepare himself for what he might see in his injured brother but all his preparation abruptly came undone as he looked upon Heath’s badly broken form in apparent deep sleep in the special bed rigged for his plastered leg. “Oh my God! Heath.” Nick’s whispered shock did not go unnoticed by Dr. Hyland.
“Don’t worry son,” the doctor tried to alleviate Nick’s anxiety. “Your brother has been through an awful lot in the past three days. He’s bound to look pretty beat up. He’s actually doing quite well, considering the circumstances. Here now, why don’t you take a seat right here in this chair beside him. You may speak to him softly but no abruptness please. Heath must remain as calm and quiet as possible to promote healing. I’ll leave you now to visit your brother. Ten minutes is all I can allow now, understand? And please, under NO circumstances are you to remove your gloves or face mask. Do I make myself clear?”
Nick looked down at the pale face of his sleeping brother and back to Dr. Hyland. “Yes,” he answered softly, his voice cracking. “I understand.”
Doctor Hyland exited the room, the door closing softly behind him. Nick took another deep breath to steady his nerves and peered down at his brother, whose ashen complexion almost blended in with the white sheets that covered him.
“Heath,” he said with a low wavering voice. He reached out to touch his brother’s hand that lay limp on top of the sheets. Taking Heath’s hand in his, Nick cradled it to his chest and cried with a strangled whisper, “Oh Heath, what have they done to you?”
He could hear the familiar voice as if through a veil of feathery cotton. Nick’s voice. So far away. Nick was calling his name. Gotta reach him. Trouble. He could be in trouble. Gotta find Nick. Can’t move arms. Gotta get this fog out of my eyes. Nick! Nick!
Nick came closer into his brother’s line of vision. He could see Heath’s eyes moving rapidly beneath the lids. Heath’s mouth worked as if he was trying to say something. It wasn’t hard for his older brother to see that his lips were forming Nick’s own name.
“Heath! I’m here boy. It’s Nick. I’m here.”
Heath struggled once more to push past the shroud that was preventing him from seeing his beloved brother. Moaning and panting with exertion, the blond finally managed to push past the barrier of deep sleep and slowly he opened his tired blue eyes. His brother was there. Nick was there. “Nick. I found you. Are..are ya awright? Heard..heard ya calling me.”
Nick’s mouth, underneath the cloth covering it, opened to a thankful smile as he took in his brother wakefulness. “Heath, I’m alright,” he said with a whisper. “We found each other.”
Heath’s eyes locked in on his brother’s face. He felt so very weak but he had to say what was on his mind. “Don’t leave me Nick. Stay. Don’t wanna have ta go look..lookin’ fer ya again. Don’t..don’t leave.” The last words said escaped through Heath’s lips in one long exhalation.
“Don’t you worry boy.” Nick gently cupped Heath’s face in his hands and stroked his temples with his thumbs. “You’re going to get well. We’re all here Heath. The whole family, Audra, Jarrod, mother. Problem is, the doc says you’ve got to be protected from these things we can’t see called germs”
Heath’s chest rose and fell as he uttered, “Yeah. R’member.”
“So the point is, I can’t stay in this room with you all the time. But Heath, know this, even though I’m not right here where you can see me, I’m with you. I’m with you, boy. Do you understand? Mother, Audra and Jarrod are with you too. We’ll be right there for you even though you may not be able to see us all the time. Can you remember that? We won’t leave you, ever.”
Heath’s head moved ever so slightly as he whispered in a strained voice that Nick barely heard. “Promise?”
“You have my word on it Heath. And you know Nick Barkley never goes back on his word.”
“Horse. What happened? Threw me. Thought I saw… rattlers. Must be the…the medicine doctors…are…giving me. Makes me all… twit brained.”
Nick couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s choice of words describing how he felt under the influence of the pain medication the Doctors felt was necessary for a smoother recovery. He was about to tell him what had taken place that night at the rodeo when Drs. Hyland and Anderson walked silently through the door.
“Mr. Barkley,” Dr. Anderson addressed the dark-haired man. “I’m afraid visiting time is over. We need to examine Heath and discuss his physical therapy needs with our team. They should all be here momentarily.” Dr. Hyland had walked over to Heath’s bed and noticed that his patient was awake. Nick locked into Heath’s focus one last time and reminded him once more that though he was leaving his sight for now, that he, along with the rest of the family, were right here with him. “You get some rest now, y’hear boy? And don’t be give’n these doctors none of your blasted cussedness neither.”
Heath managed a small nod and a weak half smile. “Don’t get lost again brother. Don’t wanna…hafta f..find ya again.”
Nick relinquished his position beside his brother to the presiding Doctor Hyland and walked slowly toward the door. Turning to look at his brother one last time, Nick whispered behind the face mask, “You put up a good fight boy and don’t you dare give up.” The door shut softly as Nick left Heath in the care of the specialists who had performed such a daring surgery on a very busted up cowboy. Nick Barkley was not lulled into thinking things were going to be smooth running from this time on forward. No. He had seen lesser injuries to men than this and knew it would be a hard fight all the way.
Nick’s long strides moved him closer to the nest of his family. The lanky cowboy removed his mask and gloves as he walked. Jarrod couldn’t help but chuckle at his brother walking towards them from down the long hallway having witnessed what his middle brother looked like all gloved and masked. “Well brother Nick,” he said cheerfully as Nick approached the family. “You looked quite dashing in your new getup. The ladies would surely swoon if they saw you when you really decided to dress up.”
“Pappy, you ain’t funny. That mask made my face itch. And those gloves. I swear I have a rash after wearing those things.”
Victoria moved closer to Nick and took his large hands in her own small ones. “How is he Nick? How’s Heath?”
“Well mother,” Nick’s eyes took in the rest of the family who was waiting for his report. “He’s weak. Very weak. The Doctor says he’s doing well considering what he’s been through. That cast on his leg looks terribly heavy. You saw it through his window in the door. I think he might be getting a little too much medicating. We might want to speak to the doctors about that. He seems quite foggy about things though that could just be because he’s been through quite a shock. I tried real hard mother, to explain to him that he’s not alone in this. That even though we’re not there physically with him every minute that we’re here supporting him. He seemed comforted by that. I get the feeling things won’t continue as smooth as they have been today. That boy’s got a long and tough row to hoe. I just hope he’s strong, stubborn and cussed enough to pull himself through it.”
Victoria still holding Nick’s hands agreed. “Yes, he’s a Barkley. He is strong. And as I’ve heard both you and Jarrod put it, ‘he’s got a stubborn streak a mile wide.’ I’m confident he’ll fight this thing with all he’s got.”
Victoria brought Audra and Jarrod into her embrace with Nick and there they stood, all together. A family tough as nails and yet so full of love and determination to stand by their fallen member to see him through whatever it took, until he too stood again amongst their ranks in their family’s loving embrace.
Doctor Anderson came
quietly up to the family and waited, not wishing to disturb their moment
together. It was Victoria who caught him looking on from a discreet distance.
Breaking away from her family, she turned and walked toward him.
“Doctor? Are you
going in to see Heath now?” She asked, believing that he had not yet been in to
see her son yet this morning.
“Yes, Mrs. Barkley,”
the kindly doctor answered. “I’m on my way to his room now. We are meeting with
our team of four doctors to discuss his physical therapy regimen.” Dr. Anderson
reached out and gently took Victoria’s hands in his and said as gently as he
could, “I won’t try to fool you, ma’am. The therapy to work circulation into
his injured limb is not going to be easy for him to take. There are risks that
the bone may not bind correctly. Also there’s the constant danger of infection
and clotting. The exertion that it will take will be exhausting for Heath. And
time. It’s going to take time for him to get well. My main worry is that he
does not become downhearted and give up. He needs to, yes he MUST continue to
fight with all his strength, and that includes mental strength, to get well. If
he becomes despondent, it could have a real consequence in his ability to
recover.” Turning to address the whole family, Dr. Anderson again mapped out
their main assignment for getting Heath better. “You must keep him positive.
Feed him positive thoughts. Along with talking about his intense physical therapy
program, we will be discussing moving him into a private room where he can more
freely have visitations. During those visits with your son.” He looked directly
at Victoria. And then his eyes moving to encompass Jarrod, Nick and Audra. “And
your brother, please keep your conversation in a positive mode. Never let him
see you in a position where he might believe you’ve lost faith in his healing
abilities. I don’t think I have to tell you this because I see already that you
appear to be quite close to one another but I will say it anyway. Make him feel
loved and worth fighting for.”
Victoria smiled up
at the tall Dr. Anderson. “Doctor, we are a close family, no doubt about it.
And Heath is an important member of this family. We won’t let him forget that.
We won’t let him down.”
Jarrod moved forward
to question the attending physician. “Doctor, when do you think Heath will be
moved to a room so that we can see him?”
“Most likely by this
late afternoon if all goes well. He will undoubtedly have his first therapy
session later this morning. Again, it’s going to be an exhausting and painful
exercise for him, so he will probably need to sleep directly afterwards but if
he responds well, then we should be able to move him around 4 or 5 o’clock. Let
me reiterate that we still must be very cautious of the germ factor. Now while
Heath will be able to have more visits when he’s released to a private room, it
will still call for full prudence for combating any threat of infection. That
means that I must insist on gloves and masks when you enter into his room. It’s
imperative that those instructions be heeded. Do I have your cooperation in
this matter?”
“Yes, doctor. You
have our word and our full cooperation,” Victoria replied, speaking for all
family members.
“Very good then.”
Dr. Anderson glanced at his watch. “I must leave you now and meet with the
team. May I suggest that you recline at the hotel and rest? I won’t have any
further news for you until later today. Perhaps you might have a look about our
beautiful city by the bay and relax a bit. Remember, you must appear rested for
Heath. I can’t think of a better way to freshen up than to take in some of our
wonderful ocean air along with its views.”
“Perhaps doctor,
we’ll do just that,” said Jarrod. “We’ll be back later this afternoon to see
you and hopefully look in on our brother.”
“Fine. Until then.”
Departing from them, Dr. Anderson moved crisply through the double doors
towards the recovery room where an expert team of doctors would meet to discuss
Heath Barkley’s aggressive physical therapy program for the next several weeks.
“Heath! Wake up now.
Look at me Heath.” Dr. Cassidy tapped Heath’s cheeks lightly as he ordered the
blond to open his eyes. “Try to focus. Focus on my face Heath. That’s the way.”
Focus. Focus. FOCUS.
That word seemed to assault his ears with pounding force as Heath struggled to
open his eyes previously pasted shut by yet another injection of morphine
ordered by Dr. Hyland for pain. With awareness slowly dawning on the blond cowboy,
pain also made its unwelcome proclamation. Heath gasped and bit his lip, his
eyes widening as a sharp pain knifed through his broken leg. His chest started
to heave as Heath struggled to gain control over the excruciating pain that was
not only in the broken limb but seemed to travel up into his hip. “Oh my God.
It hurts. Hurts so bad.”
Two sets of hands
gently restrained the man as he thrashed about in his vain attempt to seek
relief of the piercing pain he was experiencing. “Heath, work through it now.
You’ve got to work through the pain. I can’t give you any more medicine. Not
right now. You’ve got to concentrate on letting the pain go. Use your mind,
Heath. Let it wash off of you.” Dr. Cassidy’s face danced in front of Heath’s
eyes as Heath squirmed in agony to dispel the red-hot pain that was threatening
to take the air straight out of his lungs. Carterson! No! Not that? Not now.
Why am I thinking of that place here? Now? Wait a minute. Everything has a
purpose, he thought to himself. What was the purpose of bringing that
God-forsaken place to mind at a moment like this? Suddenly it dawned on him.
When he had been subject to the whipping post, more than once, he had developed
a technique that helped with the pain as the lash fell upon his back. It was a
place that he went to in his mind that helped to take him away from the present
and into a place where pain was non-existent. Must go there now, he thought to
himself. Concentrating with all his might, he worked to visualize a stream. A
stream flowing with clear, clean pristine waters. A stream surrounded with
beauty like you would read in the Bible when paradise was described. Soon the
hands that held him still relaxed as Heath stopped thrashing. Deep breaths were
taken in and exhales were audibly loud as Heath centered on his imaginary
stream. Eventually only weak whimpers came forth from the blond as he expelled
each lungful of air.
“Very good, Heath.
You’re doing a good job. Just keep breathing. It is helping you.” That was only
part of what was helping the young man to endure his agony. Heath Barkley had
for all intents and purposes, left the recovery room, where pain reigned
supreme, and had successfully transplanted himself into a garden-like setting
where the breeze gently caressed his face and the sound of a stream gurgled
through a meadow with trees and flowers of delightful colors on each bank.
A voice was calling
him. No, he would not leave his special place but he would try to obey what the
voice was telling him.
“Heath, we are going
to lower the pulley on your leg.” Dr. Hyland was preparing him for his first
step of his physical therapy program. “That will be the first exercise in
maintaining circulation to your leg and foot.” The voice of the doctor floated
but was somehow absorbed into his hearing and conscious mind. “Heath, I want
you to grip Dr. Cassidy’s arms with your hands. You are going to feel an
intense pins and needles sensation. It’s okay to squeeze Dr. Cassidy’s arms.
He’s ready for you. It’s also no shame if you cry out. This IS going to hurt. I
won’t lie to you. There now. We’ll go slow. Are you ready?”
Heath managed to nod
his head slightly and still stay in the world he had created as his escape
mechanism from the barrage of pain that was about to overwhelmingly assault his
nerve endings up and down his plaster-encased leg reaching down into his foot
and up his hip and traveling through his back.
Heath’s beautiful
singing stream with its glorious riot of colorful flowers and majestic trees
abruptly flew out of the young man’s mind when the pulley supporting his leg
was slowly lowered, allowing the blood to circulate freely through his thigh,
knee, calf and foot and toes. A heartbreaking howl of indescribable pain
launched forth from Heath’s lips, its distressed cry leaving the closed-door
room and traveling the hospital corridor. This was the beginning of the road to
recovery.
Dr. Cassidy’s eyes
attempted to bug out of their sockets as the viselike grip from the
well-muscled young man threatened to cut off all circulation from his arms.
“Holy cripes,” the doctor managed to grunt through clenched teeth looking
straight into Heath’s wide pain-filled blue eyes. “Remind me not to ever get on
your bad side.”
“Sssosssorry,” Heath
managed to gasp, not loosening his death grip on the hapless doctor.
Finally after what
appeared to Heath to be an eternity, the torturous pain in his leg slowly
subsided as the limb was lowered to a level about five inches from his bed,
leaving it to rest at just a slight angle. With circulation able to flow freely
into his foot and toes, the sharp pins and needles pain was replaced with a
less intrusive throbbing pain. Heath felt coolness on his hot face as Dr.
Austin, yet another member of Dr. Hyland’s specialty team, wiped a cool cloth
across the cowboy’s facial features, effectively removing the sweat that had
beaded across his forehead and had begun running freely down his cheeks and
chin. Gradually Heath’s chest stopped heaving and he was at last able to
regulate his breathing to normal intake and outtakes of air.
“There now. That was
your first physical therapy session,” declared Dr. Hyland. “You did real well,
son. Real well.” Heath tensed involuntarily at the doctor’s next statement.
“Now if we move this leg, say, about five times a day, that will work best for
the speediest recovery possible.”
“You-you mean I have
to go through that pain all over again,” Heath asked in a voice barely above a
whisper.
“I’m afraid so,
son.” Dr. Hyland made sure that he was in Heath’s line of vision as he
explained the importance of blood flow throughout the broken limb and into the
feet and toes. “You see it is imperative that we keep the circulation moving in
that leg and down to your toes. Otherwise, we could easily see gangrene setting
in which could mean amputation of some toes, if not the whole foot. The bones
that were broken need blood nourishment to bind properly. If we didn’t force
circulation, the blood would not move and that could spell clotting for one
thing. For another, the bone would become dry and brittle, and would not be
able to bind at all.” The doctor went on to assure the scared man with soothing
words. “The first time is the worst. The pain will eventually ebb as we
continue to work with the leg. I imagine in your line of work, you’ve had more
than a few bumps and bruises. I believe you can work through this pain. We’re
here to help you. I’ve got strong pain medication that will help…”
The doctor’s words
were halted with one quiet but firm authoritative word. “No!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“No more medicine,
doctor. No more!” Heath was weak but he was adamant.
“I, I don’t
understand son. You’re going to need something to help you past the pain when
we start working with that leg. This is no skinned knee we’re talking about
here. You’ll NEED something for the pain, I assure you.”
“Doctor promise me,
NO MEDICINE! I can take it. I’d rather…rather.” Heath was exhausted. He was
finding it hard to keep his eyes open. Sleep was calling him. Sweet sleep. It
was curiously hard even to talk. “I’d rather have all my wits about me than to
be,” He sighed deeply, his eyes closing. “twit-braiiiiii.”
The need for healing
sleep had won out. Heath’s facial features relaxed and his hands unclenched
from the balls of fists that had clamped around the lightweight sheet and
blanket covering him. Slowly his arms settled down at his sides and his fingers
rested in a comfortable tranquil position.
The good doctor
looked down at his sleeping patient with his own expressive eyes. “If it is
your wish son, I promise. I promise no more medication.” Very slowly the pulley
holding Heath’s leg was raised to its traction level. The patient did not stir.
“Come gentleman. Let
us meet in my office to discuss further our treatment plan for this young man.”
Dr. Hyland could not help but smile fondly if not a bit sadly at his young
patient. The blond man reminded him of his own son, Will. A son whom he often
wondered if he’d ever see again. His son, his only boy, had left the family
home over four years ago. There had been a bitter argument between himself and
his headstrong son. An argument that brought hurtful, cutting and wounding
words from both father and son aimed at one another. The end result had been an
estrangement from his son down to this day.
Doctor Hyland
quietly left Heath’s room, softly closing the door behind him. That boy. That
boy behind the door. That broken young man. So much like his son. Like his
Will. A boy with a mind of his own. Strong yet reflective. Rough, tough and yet
soft-spoken. And with a stubborn streak a mile long. Chuckling softly, he
wondered to himself as he made his way to his office. Wonder if the whole
family’s like that. He suspected that, while they may not all be soft-spoken,
certainly not that older brother, Nick was his name? That all the Barkleys
possessed a special brand of courage and integrity that would serve them well
through the coming days of their precious family member’s recovery.
Late afternoon had quietly
sashayed into early evening and yet the sun still stood tall in the summer sky
when the Barkleys returned to San Francisco General Hospital. Their day had
been spent in respite, walking and browsing in many of the charming shops and
eateries that enticed tourists along the steep sloped streets of the Bay City.
A cable car ride offering breath-taking views of San Francisco and beyond had
been the highlight of the day. The salty sea air had proved to be rejuvenating
for all family members, who arrived back at the hospital with uplifted spirits.
Dr. Hyland had just
finished speaking to the family members of another one of his patients when he
noticed the family of his special patient, the one for whom he felt an almost
fatherly bond for, come through the door. It wasn’t that he saw them at first,
but heard them. Or rather, heard the one called Nick loudly recounting the
day’s adventure.
“Now Jarrod, why
don’t you think it would work? I can just see it now. Track laid right down the
middle of Main Street and a replica cable car moving folks up and down the
length of Stockton. Why I can just imagine the profits a project like that
would bring.”
“True as that may
be, brother Nick, but you’re forgetting something.”
“What’s that?” A
scowl began to settle over the dark cowboy’s face.
“Stockton is a
ranching town, not a tourist haven. The people would not go for it for one
thing. For another, our streets are much too narrow for anything but horses and
wagons. There’s just no room for a trolley system and no money in the budget
for frivolous ideas.”
“FRIVOLOUS IDEAS?”
That’s right Nick,
frivolous ideas. And lest you forgot, we ARE in a hospital. Do try to keep that
loud bellow of yours to a low roar, will you? Now, as I was saying, can you
just imagine what people like Carl Wheeler or Dan Kelsey would have to say
about this harebrained idea of yours? Need I remind you of this? Baaaaaa.”
“Alright Jarrod!
You’ve made your point.”
“And besides, a
contraption like that would spook the horses and then we’d really be the talk
of the town.”
“I SAID ALRIGHT
JARROD!”
“Nicholas,” Victoria
turned sharply to her middle son. Must you shout? This is a hospital.”
“Yeah,” Nick
grumbled. “My big brother just reminded me. Sorry mother.”
“It’s alright
darling. Here comes Dr. Hyland. Oh I do hope that we’ll be able to see Heath
today.” Victoria and Dr. Hyland’s eyes met briefly as he finished with his
other family meeting and strolled over to where the Barkleys were clustered.
“Good evening all. I
do hope that you had a pleasant day walking about our fair city.”
“We did indeed,
doctor,” Victoria answered for her family.
“Good good. And now
I’m sure you are wanting to know the latest on our young patient.”
“Yes doctor. How is
Heath,” Audra asked with hope in her eyes.
“Well, I’ve got good
news for you. Heath, as of about an hour ago, has been resting as comfortably
as possible in his own private room. He had his first physical therapy session
earlier, which as I predicted, proved exhausting to him but was quite
successful, nonetheless.”
A collective sigh of
relief went through each family member.
“Doctor,” Victoria
stepped forward. “Can we see him? Can we see Heath,” she asked almost
beseechingly.
“I think that that
might just be the best medicine for him right now,” Dr. Hyland replied. “I’ll
make arrangements right away for your visit. I think it would be best if you
went in one at a time and of course, you will need to don a pair of gloves and
put on a face mask.”
Nick groaned and
approached the doctor. “Are you sure it’s necessary that we have to wear that
face mask? That thing makes my face itch.”
Nick involuntarily
took a step backwards when Dr. Hyland face hardened, his eyes narrowing
sternly.
“Mr. Barkley, which
would you prefer? A slight discomfort to yourself during your visit with your
brother or would you prefer that your sibling catch some bacterial ailment
caused by hidden dangerous germs emanating from your unprotected nose and
mouth, causing him infection, sickness and quite possibly death?”
“Well, uh, doc,”
Nick stammered.
“If you are to see
your brother, to see Heath, you WILL wear the face mask. Do I make myself
clear?”
“Yes doctor,” Nick
answered meekly. “Perfectly clear.”
“Come along then
family and we will get you ready to see our patient,” Dr. Hyland called out
cheerfully as he proceeded down the hallway followed by all four Barkleys, Nick
bringing up the rear still grumbling to himself. Audra waited for him to catch
up and linked her arm into his. “Now come on big brother. It’s not too much to
ask is it? We do want Heath to get well, don’t we?”
“You’re right sis.
It’s just that, well, you know how I am. I hate to be given orders. That’s usually
my job and it just chafes me a little, er a lot when I’m at the other end of
the orderin’. I’ll be alright. Damn, it will be good to see that boy.”
Audra smiled up at
her brother who was in so many ways her hero. “It sure will be. Come on! You get
first pick of masks. Maybe this time, it won’t be so itchy.”
They had reached the
area where they’d be “dressed” for their visitation. Nick couldn’t help but
smile at his beautiful baby sister. “Thanks sis. This hasn’t been easy for any
of us. Sometimes I forget that, with my bluster and gruff. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be
sorry, Nick. Come on now before Jarrod beats you out of the softest face mask.”
“If he does, I’ll
bust his teeth,” Nick said with a teasing glint in his eye.
Laughing, Audra made
Nick go in front of her to the cabinet where the sanitary gloves and face masks
were being distributed and fitted properly onto each one present. After a final
adjustment here and there, Dr. Hyland led his eager group down the corridor
past many closed doors finally coming to a stop in front of the door, second to
the end of the hallway. There were benches placed strategically here and there,
used mostly by visitors who were in groups and had been instructed that the one
being visited would be best served with individual visitations. Dr. Hyland
reminded his little clan of that suggestion and inquired who would go in first.
Nick spoke for the
family in a surprisingly soft voice that was somewhat muffled by the mask he
now wore. “Mother, I think you should go before us. He needs to see you. You go
ahead.”
The rest of the
family quickly agreed and Victoria stepped through the door with quiet
anticipation to see her son of whom she hadn’t had a glimpse of since he was
first taken into surgery those long days ago. At first Victoria couldn’t help
but just gaze upon her blond adopted child. He was a grown man, of course, but
to a mother, sons and daughters are always her children, her babies. Heath’s
eyes were closed. He lay on his back with his leg encased in plaster and
propped at what seemed to be a severe angle. Victoria stepped quietly over to
him and laid her hand softly on his cheek. His eyes drifted open and a sweet
smile spread across his face reaching into his sapphire blue eyes.
“Mother. At least I
think it’s you behind that dishtowel across your face,” Heath teased.
“I’m sorry. I woke
you.”
“Wasn’t sleepin’.
Just resting my eyes.”
“How are you feeling
sweetheart?”
“I’m doin’ alright.”
Just then his leg twinged, causing Heath to grimace. “This leg feels like it’s
weighted with a boulder but I’m makin’ the best of it.”
“Of course you are.
You always do.”
“Whaddya mean?”
Heath’s eyes became a puzzle.
“What I mean, Heath Barkley,
is that you could be ran over by a herd of stampeding cattle and if someone
were to ask you if you were okay afterwards, you’d say ‘fine. Just fine.’ I
just want you to get well. And if getting well means a little help by means of
certain chemical concoctions, then please, let the doctors, who know about
these things, treat you with what they know.” Victoria had been warned, on
their walk down to see Heath, that he was refusing all pain medication offered.
“Don’t need no
medication,” Heath tried to say with conviction but the effect was lost when he
stiffened in obvious pain as another hot twinge passed through his leg and up
into his hip.
Victoria sighed with
exasperation at the stubbornness of her youngest son. “Well if you won’t take
any heavy duty medication, at least we can get some soothing tea into you. I’ll
talk to the doctors about bringing in some of Audra’s Willow Bark brew and you
WILL drink some and that’s final.” Softening her voice, she sat with Heath for
just a little longer and told him about their day exploring the City. Soon
enough it was time for her to stand up and allow the others to have their
private visit with Heath. Jarrod was next, followed by Audra and then Nick.
Heath smiled as he
heard the familiar jangle of Nick’s spurs entering the room. Nick sat down on
the chair by Heath’s bed and ruffled his brother’s hair. “How they treatin’ ya
boy?”
“First class all the
way, brother.”
“Ya sure do have
some pretty nurses tended to ya, that for sure.”
Heath’s eyes
twinkled as he remarked, “And they’re all my mine. Don’t have to share ‘em with
nobody. ‘Specially you.”
“Well that’s not
very brotherly of you, brother,” Nick teased. “’Course you bein’ laid up and
all, guess I don’t have to worry much about you getting very far with all these
dandy gals flittin’ all around. Can’t do much with 20 pounds of plaster slowin’
ya down.”
Just then a moan
escaped from Heath mouth. As much as he wanted and tried to hold it in, he just
couldn’t, as yet another hot pain shot up his leg.
“Hey! Hey, take it
easy there. Ya want me to getcha the Doc? Don’t he have you on any sort of
painkiller or anything?” Nick hadn’t heard of Heath’s moratorium of all pain
relievers. “You wait here. Oh, I guess you’re not goin’ anywhere. Uh, I’ll get
the Doc to give ya something.” Nick started to stand up but Heath stopped him.
“No. No more medication. Don’t like what it makes my brain feel like. Makes me
feel like my brain has been scrambled or something. Rather ride out the pain
than feel like that.”
“Well, can’t they
give ya anything that will just go to the leg and bypass your brain
altogether?” Nick was really getting worried about the pain that Heath was
experiencing.
“Don’t,” Heath face
contorted with another pain surge. “Don’t think medicine works that way, Nick.
Think it all goes to the brain first and then kinda sifts down to where it’s
needed.”
“Heath, you’re
suffering boy. Don’t be a hero. You don’t ride this out so that it kills ya.
You get the medicine you need if it gets too unbearable, ya hear me?”
“Okay Nick. I will,
but for right now, I think I’ll be alright.”
Nick could see that
Heath was tiring rapidly and again started to stand up only to be stopped by
Heath’s hand that reached out and grabbed his arm.
“Nick, what happened
to me? Nobody will tell me anything. What happened that I’m like this?”
Nick looked at Heath
with surprise. “I, I thought you knew.”
“Don’t zactly
‘member. Snakes. All I r’member. Nuthin’ else.”
Nick quickly debated
with himself whether he should tell his brother who was responsible for him
being in his present predicament. Would it help or hurt Heath? Finally he
decided that Heath would not get any rest if he remained in the dark about what
had happened to him. Nick clasped the blond cowboy’s hand in his own and
whispered the truth. “The Mortons, Heath. They did this to you. They did this
because they are no good cowards. The snakes you saw were real. They somehow
let them loose in the arena and Diablo reacted like any horse would. He went
wild. Wilder than he already was and that’s what caused you to fall. He pitched
you and you landed wrong on that leg. If it weren’t for Dr. Merar and his
connections here in San Francisco, we could have lost you boy. Now you’re
healing. We’re gonna getcha back and if it’s the last thing I do, I will see to
it that those Mortons get exactly what’s comin’ to ‘em. Mark my words.”
Heath was so sleepy
and yet he knew what his brother had said was true. Ol’ Charlie had suspected
that those Mortons were up to no good. Heath now concluded that they had made
good on their claim that no Barkley, especially Heath Barkley was going to win
that rodeo. Not if they could help it.
“Nick?”
“Yeah?”
“Let the law take
care of ‘em.” Need ya here.”
“Heath, I…”
“Nick! Pr.….” Heath
gasped, his face folding in pain. “Promise me you’ll not go after them. Not
now. Need..need ya here.”
Nick cradled Heath’s
face in his hands and spoke the words true that his brother needed to hear.
“Boy, you ain’t gonna lose me that easy. I’m stayin’ right here with ya until
you’re good enough to whoop the tar out of me the next time I tease ya about
all those pretty nurses that are swoonin’ over your homely face.”
Heath smiled and
sighed with a measure of contentment. “Thanks Nick.”
His blond brother
was asleep before Nick turned the doorknob to leave his room. Once out of the
room, he gathered with the rest of the family, tearing off the facemask and
rubbing his face.
“You okay, brother Nick,”
Jarrod had reached out an arm to put around Nick’s shoulder.
“Yeah.” Nick
answered. “He’s in a lot of pain. Won’t take anything for it. That boy is as
stubborn as they get. Maybe mother or Audra can make up some of their special
tea. Ya know the kind we get when we’re really sick that tastes like dirty
socks? Maybe we could at least slip some headache powder in it. Cussed brother
of ours. Wonder where he gets that pigheadedness of his.”
“Well, Nick,” Jarrod
replied. “I do believe it comes with the name he holds. Fact is, that brother
of ours is a lot like another brother I have.”
“Is that a fact?”
“You bet it is. Now
come on, I’ll buy you dinner. With all that waltzing around this fair city, you
must be ready for a big juicy steak by now.”
“Brother, you’re
on!”
“Come along my
family,” Jarrod called as his clan began to follow their pappy out the doors of
the hospital. “I’ve got to feed this strappin’ brother of mine before he gets
ornery with hunger.”
Everyone’s mood
lightened as they laughed at Jarrod’s good-natured teasing. They would check in
with Heath’s doctors tomorrow. For now, this family looked forward to an
evening of enjoying each other’s company.
Over the next few
weeks, to the delight of his family and the doctors treating him, Heath’s
physical recovery continued right on schedule. The painful physical therapy
sessions that he had to endure five times a day were handled as smooth as
possible by doctors who knew their business and who tried to make their patient
as comfortable as possible while they manipulated the injured limb in an
attempt to keep the blood moving through the veins, feeding muscles and
strengthening the mending bone. None of the sessions were quite as painful as
that first one on that day the rest of the Barkleys had toured the City and
when Heath had cried out so agonizingly. Now it was more of a matter of putting
up with the chore of getting the leg to do what the doctors wanted it to and
the time spent in the many therapy sessions in a day. Oh, it still hurt like
the dickens but the pain was something Heath could deal with.
Heath was still
adamant about not taking any heavy duty pain medications but had yielded some
and let Victoria and Audra prepare for him some of their healing teas, like
Audra’s special willow bark blend and Victoria’s soothing chamomile. These he
drank after especially hard-going therapy sessions. On days where Heath was
obviously in great pain, the ladies surreptitiously slipped some simple pain
powders into his hot drink with the doctors’ blessings. Heath, as a result of
the grueling physical exertion of moving his leg and the hot teas afterward,
would many times fall into an exhausted healing sleep not to awaken until the
doctors roused him for his next session.
Nick often insisted
on being with his brother during his physical therapy. He wore multiple
colorful bruises up and down his arms, as the dark-haired cowboy would
encourage Heath to hang on to his arms for leverage and balance while the
injured leg was being put through its rigorous battery of exercises.
So well was Heath’s
recovery that it was decided after three weeks that Jarrod would return to
Stockton to continue his investigation of the events with the Mortons that had
led up to Heath’s accident. Jarrod had learned from Fred Madden, Stockton’s
Sheriff via the wire services, that there had been enough evidence against the
Mortons to hold them over in the Stockton jail pending further investigation
and trial. The prize money from the rodeo was being held in an escrow account
until all matters in this much talked about case were fully investigated and
resolved.
Jarrod had been back
in town for two days and was working on some case files in his office late one
evening when a knock came on his door. The Attorney had dismissed his Secretary
about three hours earlier. He raised his eyes questioningly from before the
paperwork in front of him. He was not expecting anyone. The knock, more
insistent this time, came again. Rising from his supple leather high-backed office
chair, Jarrod crossed the spacious room and opened the door. He had opened the
door only partially when Rufus Morton pushed open the door forcibly the rest of
the way, catching Jarrod slightly off balance and angrily entered into the
room.
“Jarrod Barkley, you
have my boys in jail under false pretenses. They haven’t done anything wrong
and I am here to demand their release, NOW.”
Jarrod took a moment
to collect himself before he spoke to the volatile man. His eyes quickly noticed
that Rufus was carrying a revolver on his hip.
“Rufus, if you’ll
please have a seat. Can I get you anything? Whiskey?”
“I don’t want to sit
down! And I don’t want a drink of your liquor. That’s the problem with most of
the people in this town, you Barkleys included, you try to cover all your dirty
deeds with the plying of alcohol to your hapless victims. The devil’s drink I
tell you.”
Jarrod inwardly
winced at his blunder of offering spirited refreshment to his uninvited guest.
Rufus Morton was a self-proclaimed teetotaler; at least he made it a point
never to indulge in public places. Jarrod knew that the man did indeed take a
glass now and again but for him the distilled beverage was only doled out in
very miserly measures and then usually only served in his home on special
occasions.
Rufus had tried to
instill this same discipline into his sons but somewhere the lesson had been
lost. Zach and JR Morton were well known or rather infamously known in many of
the drinking establishments of Stockton. More than one bar room brawl had
resulted from their overindulgence of drink.
Jarrod seated
himself behind his desk and clasping his hands together on the stack of papers
before him, he cleared his throat and asked pointedly, “Rufus, what is it that
you want?”
“What do I want?”
The man was seething with fury. He began to angrily pace back and forth
throwing his hands up in the air in rage. “What do I want? You have my boys in
jail and you have the gall to ask me what I want. I want my sons out of that
stinking jail! That’s what I want!”
Jarrod’s voice
remained steady and calm as he made a reply to Mr. Rufus Morton, a man who had
brought his own family to this valley about the same time that Jarrod’s own
family had arrived here from the east. A man who had had numerous opportunities
to grow his wealth like the Barkleys but had somehow, at each turn, been
stopped by the desire to get rich quick without the outlay of hard work, or by
cutting corners or just plain laziness. Oh, the Mortons had a decent size
spread but it could have been so much more if they had the motivation to put
their sweat into it instead of always looking for the easy way out. Rather than
apply themselves to their holdings, the Mortons found more satisfaction in
blaming the Barkleys and others more affluent than themselves for their lack of
prosperousness.
“Rufus, I’m afraid I
can’t do that.”
“Why? Give me one
reason why. My boys haven’t done anything wrong! Just because that, that
half-breed brother of yours goes and gets himself hurt because he doesn’t know
how to stay sat on a horse ain’t no reason to put my boys behind bars. You
ain’t got no right!”
The hateful words
Jarrod heard addressed towards Heath made him stand up suddenly and glare at
the man still pacing in front of him.
“That’s enough
Rufus! A full investigation has gone into this matter and there has been enough
evidence gathered that points to your sons being responsible for foul play in
this matter. That is why they are in jail and will stay there until a trial is
ordered that would tell us different. Now that’s the law and I intend to abide
by that law.”
“Why do you want to
stand so close by to that bastard brother of yours? Is he really worth it?”
Gun or no gun,
Jarrod was livid. How dare this man waltz in here uninvited and insult his
brother. Walking with purposeful strides to the tall graying rancher, Jarrod
planted himself right in front of Rufus’ face. “Rufus, don’t you EVER call my
brother that word again, you hear me? If you do, I’ll personally see to it that
you get fitted for a full set of new teeth, do you understand me?”
Rufus stepped back
from the angry man before him, stunned at the fury flashing in the counselor’s
blue eyes.
“Get yourself a lawyer
Mr. Morton,” Jarrod continued. “Justice will be served at the trial, which
should be set any day now. Until then, we have nothing to talk about. Go to
your sons, Mr. Morton. I don’t want to see you in this office or anywhere else
for that matter until after the trial. Now leave.”
Jarrod turned his
back on this contemptible man, not turning around until he heard the door close
and he heard the sound of Rufus Morton’s boots disappear down the boardwalk.
“Doctor Hyland!
Doctor Hyland!” The young nurse rushed through the door where Heath and the
doctor were doing range of motion exercises on Heath’s plastered leg to prevent
atrophying of the muscles.
Doctor Hyland looked
up, annoyed at being interrupted during a therapy session. “What is it, Miss
Blanchard? Can’t you see I am with a patient?”
“Beggin’ your pardon
Doctor, but.” The nurse stopped mid-sentence as a series of sneezes overcame
her just then. She continued on. “Mrs. Ellison in room five seems to be having
a terrible time breathing. I couldn’t find anyone else to help me. She needs
your help, Doctor.”
Dr. Hyland’s eyes
narrowed towards the nurse. His features beneath the mask contorted into an
angry scowl. Nurse Blanchard looked frightened at the intensity of her
superior’s glare and stepped back in fear.
“What is it Doctor?
What’s wrong?”
“Miss Blanchard, how
could you be so stupid?” The doctor’s angry voice caused the nurse to shrink
back closer toward the door that she had just come in through. “Your face mask,
Miss Blanchard! Why are you not wearing it on this ward? You KNOW the rules.
The patients on this ward are especially susceptible to infection caused by
GERMS. Germs coming from YOU, Miss Blanchard. And now you have come into this
room without your protective gear and have sneezed numerous times in the
presence of a man whose body is still highly weakened by his injury. You dare
ask me what is wrong, Miss Blanchard. You have unnecessarily endangered the
life of a patient. That is unacceptable. I will not have a fool working in this
hospital. You will not be permitted to administer to any patients in this
hospital. You are hereby terminated Miss Blanchard. I request that you leave at
once!”
“But surely Doctor,
forgetting just this once wouldn’t make a difference, would it,” the nurse
protested weakly.
“It only takes ONCE,
my dear nurse. One time for germs to cause infection. One infection to cause
death. Now I repeat, you are to leave this hospital immediately! You have
overstepped solid policy for this institution and it will not be tolerated. I
will see to Mrs. Ellison at once. You are dismissed!”
Heath listened to
the Doctor’s ultimatum for the young nurse and while he felt bad for the girl,
after being in Dr. Hyland’s care for the past seven weeks, he had heard the
doctor’s mantra about germs and protection against them many times. He had
learned a lot from this wise man just by listening. Though he felt pity for the
girl, deep down he had to side with the doctor. Where those elves and fairies
were concerned, one just could not take chances. Heath was glad that his mother
and Nick hadn’t been here during this barrage of angry words between the doctor
and the unfortunate nurse. He knew how his mother would especially worry if
there was even a remote chance of him picking up some ailment. Ever since he
had worked in the mines at an early age, Heath seemed more apt to catch
whatever was going around as far as viruses, colds and flu. It always seemed to
settle in his chest and usually brought with it high fever. Maybe this time
would be different. Maybe the young nurse just had a little harmless sniffle.
Nothing to worry about.
Victoria, Audra and
Nick came that evening as they always did during hospital visiting hours. Nick
and Heath were embroiled in a hot chess match when Heath felt that first sneeze
coming on. Wrinkling his nose, he tried to stifle the explosion, but it was no
use. One, two, three, four, five forceful sneezes came forth, the fourth and
fifth causing his head to pound.
Victoria immediately
rose up from where she had been quietly working on some embroidery and rushed
to her son’s side. “Heath? Sweetheart, are you all right?”
Heath wrinkled his
brow and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, willing the sharp stabbing sensations
to lesson in his head. “I’m fine mother. Must just be a little dust in the air.
I’m all right.”
“Well, you’d better
be all right, boy. I ain’t wearin’ this getup,” Nick pointed to his facemask,
“for the comfort factor, ya know. That doctor’s convinced that if ya wear one
of these rags across your face that germs can’t get at shootin’ distance of ya.
Now if he’s wrong,” Nick rose and paced the room three times and stopped beside
Heath’s bed. He continued. “That doctor and I, we’re gonna have words. Don’t
know nothin’ about these germs he keeps harpin’ on, but I don’t see how wearin’
a scratchy ol’ dishrag over yer nose is gonna stop the little critters.”
Heath debated about
telling his family what had transpired this afternoon with the young nurse. In
the end, he decided not to say anything at all, fearing it would only make his
family, especially the volatile Nick, wild with worry. Surely a few sneezes
weren’t proof of anything. After a goodnight’s rest, he would feel much better
in the morning. It must be about the end of visiting time, Heath surmised, as
he was finding himself to be suddenly dreadfully tired.
Victoria and Audra
didn’t miss the lethargic look about Heath. “Heath, it’s still a little early,
but if you’d like us to leave now, you look awfully tired, we can come and see
you tomorrow,” Victoria said.
Still early? Heath
was sure it was getting late. Normally he was not this tired so early in the
evening. “I’m sorry mother. Must have really worked that leg overtime today. If
ya’ll don’t mind,” he drawled, “I’m ready to turn in.”
“All right
sweetheart. We’ll let you rest. Sleep well and we’ll see you in the morning.”
Victoria tried to maintain a cheerful even voice but inside, she was terribly
worried. What if. What if Heath had somehow caught something? In his weakened
condition, would he be able to fight it? Victoria stop it, she admonished
herself. You’re just buying trouble for yourself. It was only a few sneezes.
Maybe there was dust in the air. Maybe it’s nothing to worry about at all.
Still, all the same, she mentally made a note to see Dr. Hyland about anyone
who may have been in to tend to Heath, who may have been less than well when
doing so.
Nick too had decided
that he would speak to the doctor in the morning about his germ theory. What
good were these itchy suffocating masks across your face if it still made the
one whom you were visiting sneeze and look so blasted pained like something was
knockin’ against his skull inside.
“Come children,”
Victoria still addressed her adult brood affectionately as children. “Let’s let
Heath get some rest. Tomorrow’s another day.”
Before the day
arrives, one must suffer through the night. And suffer Heath did that night.
First came the chills, followed closely by hotness and fever that brought with
it nightmares and delirium. Later, this was chased away again by chills that
overtook his body, causing him to shake, chatter his teeth and cry out for
warmth.
It was as if a storm
with lightning and hail, sleet and rain had been unleashed. There was no cure
that could be produced that night. The storm would simply have to be ridden out
with cool compresses, ice baths, water, broths and extra blankets. Though
housed in a modern building with the best staff gathered, there was really
little the Professionals could do when a virus was introduced into the
patient’s territory. Ride it out. Apply more coolness. Tuck a blanket around
the patient for warmth. Be there when they call. That was about the extent of
doctoring that was available.
At one point in the
night, two doctors and three nurses were with the sick man, holding him and
soothing him so that he wouldn’t lash out and hurt himself or those around him.
The nightmares were strong. Jumbled talk of confinement and prison. More
confinement and an inhumane box made of iron so hot that it was impossible to
breathe. So intense were these night terrors and so worried was Dr. Hyland, for
this man, this man who reminded him of his lost son Will, that he had an
attendant send for the boy’s family at 2:00 in the morning. No drugs for relief
would be given. The doctor was a man of his word. The young man thrashing in
the bed had put his trust in him. He wasn’t about to belie that trust.
Victoria, Nick and
Audra hurried towards the hospital after getting word of Heath’s deteriorating
condition from the messenger who had knocked on Victoria’s hotel door. Rushing
into the hospital, they were greeted by a nurse who prepared them in record
time to enter Heath’s room.
Nick’s eyes flew
open wide and the rest of his face was contorted in shock under his face mask
as he hurriedly entered into Heath’s room to find two men, presumably doctors,
holding down his brother’s thrashing body in an attempt to not re-injure the
leg that was stationary in its traction pulley. He wasted no time in hurrying
over to provide his strength and calming influence on his brother.
Victoria couldn’t
help her emotions as she saw her tortured son being subdued by two large men. “HEATH!”
She ran to her son’s side and spoke to him as only a mother could. Sometimes
the young man appeared to respond to his mother’s voice. Other times, her words
fell onto deaf ears as the demons of his sleep stole Heath further and further
from his family. A nurse stood around each side the bed waiting to assist. One
nurse was posted at the foot trying to keep the swinging pulley still.
For five hours
straight, the fight continued.
“We’ve got to bring
his temperature down. Nurse Sampson, see to getting some ice packs in here
right away.”
More compresses.
More blankets. More water in moments of lucidness. More struggling to rid the
young cowboy of the fevered demons that possessed him. Finally in the eighth
hour of the new day, the demons abated and the fever was broken. Still and
pale, the young blond cowboy stole into peaceful sleep. The virus that had him
in its clutches released its victim and Heath fell into a healing sleep.
Victoria raised her
hand and held in on his cool forehead. Turning to Doctor Hyland who had been
with his patient through his whole ordeal, she asked what had happened to make
her son so suddenly very ill.
“Mrs. Barkley, I’m
afraid we had an issue yesterday afternoon. A young nurse in our employ came
into this room not properly prepared for patients. She was ill, Mrs. Barkley.
I’m afraid that because of her indiscretion of being here when she was unwell
and not being properly masked when entering the room, your son in his weakened
condition found what ever she had and that is why we had the fight we had on
our hands these last several hours.”
“But surely she must
have known what her actions could have gone to any of the patients in the
hospital. What will happen to her, doctor?”
“Mrs. Barkley, since
she was already a healthy person, the virus she carried no doubt will only
carry some measure of discomfort to her. As far as her employment with this
hospital, she has been discharged permanently of all her duties.”
Victoria sighed. She
realized that the young woman didn’t mean any real harm. It had been simple
carelessness on her part. The girl had been punished enough. She had lost her
job over this. No use pursuing the matter further. Heath would pull through.
Already he seemed to be pinking up some. Her boy. Her son. He was strong. He
would survive.
The next four weeks
went by quickly as Heath continued to progress and get stronger. Although
weakened by his bout with the still unknown virus, his condition stayed on an
upswing. Barring any setback, the cast would come off in two days. That would
mark twelve weeks with his leg encased in plaster. The doctor’s initial
estimate of eight weeks stretched out to four additional weeks due to the
seriousness of the wound.
Back in Stockton,
Jarrod tirelessly labored over documents and formed arguments both in his head
and on paper to prove that the Morton boys, who were being held in Fred’s jail,
were solely responsible for the events that lead to Heath’s horrific accident
on the night of the bull-riding event at the county fair. The empty canvas bag
had been taken in as evidence. Jarrod had learned that the bag bore the name of
a special feed that Rufus Morton used for his cattle.
Rufus had always
been diligent in finding the best feed for his livestock and was known to order
his grain special from a company in Rimfire, a town Jarrod had visited once to
settle a matter that had come up regarding a partnership the Barkleys had
regarding the sale of a neighboring mine to Chinese immigrants. Jarrod wasn’t
familiar with the term used on the bag that clamed to make this particular
grain especially beneficial to cattle and other livestock, but ol’ Rufus, he
swore that this organic grade of feed was far superior to the “contaminated”
grain the Barkleys and others fed to their cows. Being full of competitive
spirit, Rufus would often, when he was in town, brag about the healthiness of
his stock over the “puniness” of other rancher’s herds. Just as he owed to his
frugal drinking habits, which in his eyes made him a better man, Rufus laid
claim that his herds were the plumpest and healthiest in the valley. Another
reason why Rufus Morton and his boys were not winning popularity contests with
the round about ranchers.
Thursday night,
Heath tossed restlessly as thoughts of him regaining the use of his leg
captured his sleep. How good it would feel to finally sit up with both legs
bent instead of his one limb protruding in its bandaged plaster. What a relief
it would be to stand and walk about. These last couple of days, Heath had especially
felt like he had grown roots to the narrow bed that had been his home for all
these weeks. How wonderful it would be to be able to see the outside, to
breathe the fresh air, to ride a horse. Heck he was even looking forward to
Nick’s bellowing on the range to get him to mend those fallen fences faster.
Heath thought that once the plaster came off, he’d be free. Free to walk about,
mount and ride a horse, dance a jig if he was of the mind. Never did the
thought occur to him that once the cast was off that the physical therapy would
continue at even a more determined pace.
He didn’t realize
that his muscles would be weak from non-use. Very weak. He didn’t realize that
all those weeks in traction to mend the bone together would mean that he would
practically have to learn to walk all over again. He didn’t realize that he was
going to have to work harder than ever if he was ever going to walk, run or
ride a horse again.
For now, the blond cowboy’s
imagination carried him away, stealing much needed rest. It stole him to the
morning where he anticipated with great hope that he would soon be able to walk
into his mother’s arms and tower his six foot frame over her small one in a
gesture of love and happiness.
Heath felt the
fingers of the new day lightly caress his face as the sun peeked through the
high windows of his hospital room. His breath caught in his chest as he
envisioned his feelings of finally being without this burden of plaster and
being able to at last be free. Free to go home and live his life. Free to dig
his hands in the dirt he loved. Free to work alongside his brother on land that
was to be his inheritance.
The clock in his
room ticked slowly towards that wonderful time of unveiling. Breakfast was
served at precisely the same time it had been served during his full residence
here. He picked and moved the plate of eggs around. He ate very little.
Anticipation laid claim to any appetite he had. Mother, Nick and Audra would be
arriving at ten o’clock. Two more hours. Then the time for cutting the plaster
would commence. They would be there to share his jubilation. In Heath’s mind,
they would be leaving this place soon after.
Heath watched
through his open door as nurses, orderlies and doctors carried on their normal
workday. Didn’t they know today was special? Today was the day he would walk.
Walk out of this place that had been home, or rather prison, for the past
twelve weeks. The blond man sighed with contentment. Soon this nightmare would
be over.
Heath smiled and his
eyes lit up when Nick, Victoria and Audra walked into his room. “What’s this I
see? Nick? I forgot you had facial features. How come no dishrag to cover that
ugly mug of yours?”
“Heath, I oughta
belt you.” Nick tried to scowl at his sibling but a big toothy grin broke
through instead. “For your information little brother, doc says you’re well
enough that we don’t need those itchy things anymore. How do you like that?”
“Yes,” Audra added.
“And besides those germs are afraid of you now. They won’t come near you,” she
teased. The beautiful blonde walked to where Heath lay and planted a kiss on
his cheek.
“Seems that you’ve
beaten the main threat of infection with your leg healing so well. Doctor
Hyland and his team are very pleased,” stated Victoria as she too walked over
to Heath’s bed. Sitting down, she took his hand in hers. Her trained mother’s
eye looked over his face. “I can also tell, young man, that you hardly slept at
all last night.” She noticed his beaming face. “Happy?”
“Yes mother.” Heath
reached his large hands up and cupped them gently around his mother’s face. “I
won’t be a burden to you any longer.”
Victoria removed her
hand from Heath’s warm grasp. Gently but firmly shook her son’s shoulders.
“Heath Barkley! Burden? Oh for goodness sakes. You are many things to this
family but a burden will never be one of them, do you understand me? Now I
don’t want to hear anymore talk like that from you. Do I make myself clear?”
Heath knew a good
scolding when he received one. He knew how much this woman loved him. He would
never, never want to say or do anything to hurt her. He lifted his sapphire
blue eyes to meet her gray ones and fashioned a half smile, his trademark look.
“Yes mother,” was all he said. She knew he had received her message loud and
clear.
“Well, well! It’s
good to see all the family here.” Dr. Hyland along with Drs. Anderson and
Cassidy entered into the room. “How are you feeling, son,” the good doctor
asked.
“Great doc. Just great,”
Heath replied enthusiastically. “I’m ready to get this large paperweight off of
me so I can start dancin’ a jig.”
“Well now, wait a
minute. Hold it right there.” Doctor Hyland held his hand up as if to stop the
thought process of his anxious patient.
“What’s the matter
doc? The cast IS coming off, isn’t it?” Heath’s happy countenance was beginning
to crumble.
“Indeed it is son.
Indeed it is. Only…”
“Only what doctor?” Heath’s
voice cracked as he felt disappointment coming to slap him in the face.
“Heath, maybe I
should have prepared you better on this. Son, once the cast is off doesn’t mean
that you will be all well.”
“What? What do ya
mean?” Heath’s voice almost shook. His face further crumpled.
“I mean, son, that
you won’t be able to walk. At least not right away. We’ve got much work ahead
of us. Your muscles have not been used productively for the past twelve weeks.
That leg would never hold your weight at this point, much less using the
maneuvers to walk. You will need to learn basically how to use your leg all
over again. That means lots of exercise, stretching and therapy.”
“NO!” Heath reached
forward and grabbed Doctor Hyland by his collar.
“HEATH!” Nick raced
to the bed and using his full body weight which Heath didn’t have the privilege
of, removed his brother’s angry clasp from the doctor. “What do you think
you’re doing?”
“He’s wrong! WRONG!
I WILL walk. I will walk right out of this place. I want to go home, Nick.
Don’t you see? I want to go home.” Heath turned his pleading eyes to his older
brother, his best friend and begged that he would understand how he was
feeling.
“Heath. Boy. These
things take time. You WILL walk again. You will do all the things you want to
do but it takes time.”
“Time Nick? I’ve
been stuck in this bed for twelve weeks. I’ve DONE my TIME. I WANT TO WALK
NOW.”
“Let’s get the cast
off. Maybe doc’s wrong. Let’s get it off and see how you do. Can ya do that?
Come on Heath. Maybe you’ll prove ‘em wrong.”
Doctor Hyland knew
that the elder Barkley, in his own way, was trying to help. He hoped, whatever
the outcome that was soon to manifest itself, that Nick as well as the whole
family would be strong enough to console and rally with the young cowboy.
Doctor Hyland was familiar with these kinds of injuries. Even the strongest of
men, after being encased in plaster for as long as Heath had been, would not
just simply walk and run in one day.
Doctor Anderson came
forward with the tools needed to remove the cast. “Now if you’ll lie back, Mr.
Barkley, this shouldn’t hurt at all. The leg is healed. You will feel a
tingling sensation. That will be your circulation returning to the muscles,
bone and tissues.” Producing a special medical saw Doctor Anderson prepared to
remove the plaster from Heath’s leg. “Are you ready?”
Heath leaned back
against his pillow and tensed his body. Nick stood at his one side and Victoria
and Audra stationed themselves on his other side. Heath bit his lip,
anticipating some discomfort, remembering the first time blood coursed into his
leg after the initial surgery. “Ready,” he breathed. “G..go ahead.”
The back and forth grinding
sound of the saw under the doctor’s skillful hands, as he carefully cut into
the plaster, caused not only Heath to squeeze his eyes shut, anticipating pain,
but Nick too was reacting by the worried tight lipped scowl he held on his
tanned face. Finally with one last poof of plaster dust, the remnants of the
cast fell to the floor, breaking into several large pieces as it landed. The
cast was off and suddenly the wait was over as all in the room drew their eyes
to the now exposed healed limb. Heath relaxed and slowly opened his eyes as the
pain he expected never materialized. True to the doctor’s word, only a slight
tingling sensation as blood rushed in to claim the leg that had been denied of
proper circulation, was all he felt.
Since he was lying
flat on the bed with just a regular pillow tucked under his head, Heath did not
understand the gasp, which came from his sister’s mouth, or the loud “What’s
this?” that resounded from the direction of where Nick was standing.
“Wh..what’s wrong?”
Heath cried and struggled to move his body into a more upright position but was
denied when his weak body failed to cooperate and his head fell back onto the
pillow in defeat.
“Shhh, shhhhh.
Everything is all right, Mr. Barkley.” Dr. Anderson turned to the nurse on hand
and ordered more pillows to prop the patient. While the nurse hastened to heed
the doctor’s orders, Dr. Hyland stepped forward to address the family.
“Yes, you may be a
little more than shocked at how the leg looks now, but it won’t stay that way.”
Heath pivoted his
head and his eyes flew to his mother’s face questioningly. She met his gaze and
patted his hand reassuringly. Before she could offer any words of consolation,
however, Nick’s booming voice attracted everyone’s attention.
“Doctor! His leg!
His leg, it’s so, so white and skinny lookin’. He won’t be able to walk on a
stick of a leg like that. What’s wrong with it?”
Nick’s proclamation
sent Heath’s thoughts of never-walking-again into high anxiety level and he
once more tried to boost himself up to see for himself the situation only to
fail with a grunt and fall back onto the bed. The nurse entered just then with
two plumped pillows, which she gently placed under Heath’s head allowing the
cowboy to see for himself the results of twelve weeks in plaster. Heath’s blue
eyes grew wide as he viewed the exposed leg. He listened intently to the
doctor’s next words.
“Due to the fact
that the leg has suffered great trauma and has been shut off, as it were, from
oxygen, explains the reason why the limb you now see, though completely healed,
is white and pasty. Because Heath has not been able to use his leg while it was
encased, tells the reason why the leg now lacks muscle tone and has begun to
atrophy, or is ‘skinny’, as you put it.” Dr. Hyland spoke to the family,
directing his last remark to Nick. He continued on with his explanation. “Heath
will now need to work harder than before to exercise and strengthen the leg.
Still, I’m afraid, there is no guarantee that he will be able to walk with that
leg again. However, if he and you,” Dr. Hyland swept his hands in a gesture to
include all family members, “are diligent, VERY diligent in exercise and
therapy and following EXACTLY the directions that I will give to you when you
go home to Stockton, I have great faith that this fine young man will indeed
overcome this tragedy and walk fully again in due time.”
Heath tried to
maintain control over his emotions but felt his eyes tearing when the words of
the doctor were fully digested. He may not ever walk again. He was released
from his plaster prison but still he was not free. He wasn’t going to get up
and walk out of this room and out of this hospital as he had dreamed he would.
Instead he was being told that there were no guarantees. He may be out of the
cast and out of traction but he still may never walk. Why hadn’t he just died
under that bull? How could he possibly put his family through more anguish?
They could be saddled with a cripple, an invalid for the rest of their lives.
Why did he have to live to be like this?
Victoria, always the
mother and so honed into her children’s thoughts, kneeled at Heath’s side and
made him look her straight in the eye. She knew her blond son so well and knew
he would, as he often did in similar circumstances when he was sick or injured,
berate himself for not being able to pull his weight. Erroneously thinking that
he was placing an undue yoke upon his family with the extra care that would be
necessary in helping him to achieve wellness.
“Now Heath. Look at
me, son. Now don’t you look away from me. I know what you’re thinking. Please
Heath. Look at mother.” Slowly, the sapphire blues settled on the silky grays.
“Heath, we are a family. A family that sticks together, come what may. That
means we stay by each other in good times and in bad. I am here to tell you
that we are here for you son. Please, I beg of you, do not shrink back from us
and hide yourself in self-pity. If there’s one thing a Barkley has, it’s guts.
You’re a Barkley through and through, as much as I am or your brothers and
sister. Now I’m not saying that things are going to be easy. They’re not. But
if you show those Barkley guts, you’re going to come out a winner Heath. You’ve
got to show that you have faith that you will walk again. We all do and we
will. We are here for you son. We WANT to be here for you. That’s what family
is for. Do you understand me, Heath? Promise me. Promise me that you won’t give
up. Please Heath, I want your word. I know that if you give me your word, you
will keep it. Please.”
Heath’s hands slowly
came up to his face and he held them there, covering his countenance in deep
torment, trying to wrestle with what his mind was goading him to think,
thoughts of defeat and guilt, in contrast to the loving, gentle yet firm words
of devotion and support from this woman whom he called mother. The room was
still and silent when finally Heath’s hands came away from his face and reached
for the small delicate hands of his loving mother. In a soft voice, deep with
emotion, he gave his promise. “I give you my word.”
Nick came over to
the other side of Heath’s bed and he too kneeled to be at a more even level
with his brother when he spoke his own words of encouragement. “Heath, you ain’t
gonna be a cripple. I’m gonna see to it boy. I gonna see to it that you walk
again. You and I, we’re gonna work together and work hard. I ain’t gonna let
you give up. Any thoughts of giving up and giving in to self-pity are gonna be
met with my fist, you got that boy? We’re gonna take you home and you WILL
walk. I give you MY word on that and Nick Barkley never goes back on his word.”
For the first time
since the cast came off, one corner of Heath’s mouth tugged up in a small half
smile. He reached for Nick’s shoulders and met his brother’s hazel eyes to his
own blue ones. “Okay brother. You’re on, ‘ceptin’ we can’t get there from here.
When can I get out of this place?”
Nick looked to the
two doctors as they observed this closer than close family rallying around
their own. “Well?”
“Well, if we can get
a special compartment for your brother ready on the train and get the
preparations for his discharge, I don’t see why you can’t take him home, say,
tomorrow.”
“I’ll wire Jarrod as
soon as we leave here to have our private car on the next northbound train out
of Stockton. It will be here in the morning ready to be hooked up to the
southbound train.” Nick’s eyes shone as he looked onto his brother’s pale face.
“Boy, you’re goin’ home.”
Heath’s morning had
been exhausting for him and now with the establishment of his forthcoming
discharge from this place that had been his home or prison for too long, his
body gave into his extreme fatigue. He graced his family with yet another weak
smile and closed his eyes. He was going home.
Jarrod could smell
the acrid steam from the massive chugging iron machine before he actually saw
it sliding down the rail towards the Stockton depot. His heart raced in
anticipation of at long last seeing his family. It pounded a drum in thought of
seeing his youngest brother for the first time in oh so many weeks. Jarrod was
logical and reasonable. He held no lofty expectations of the reunion with his
blond sibling. He knew that though the plaster was gone, Heath would not be
dancing a jig. He realized that he probably would not be mobile at all. Nick
hadn’t said a lot in his wire. Just that they were coming home and to meet them
at the train station with a wagon.
Suddenly the big
engine, pulling several cars with the Barkley’s private car bringing up the
rear, bore down upon the platform, huffing and puffing as the wheels locked
into the track, bringing the train to a jolting stop. Jarrod didn’t wait for
any of his family to appear. Instead, he hurried to the last car and hefted
himself onto the steep steps, flinging open the door and hurrying inside.
“Jarrod!” Nick’s
loud enthusiasm in greeting his eldest brother jolted Heath awake. He had
managed to sleep most of the four-hour journey, letting the lull of the easy
back and forth motion of the train relax his aching muscles. The whole ordeal
of getting aboard the train via a portable cot earlier that morning had taken a
lot out of the already weakened man.
“Nick!” Jarrod with
equal enthusiasm wrapped his arms around his black leather clad cowboy brother.
“Good to see you.” As Jarrod greeted Nick, his eyes traveled to the bedroom
compartment and soon another smile lit his face as his mother and sister
stepped out from the adequate but tiny bedding quarters. Victoria rushed
forward to embrace her oldest in a warm hug, kissing both of his cheeks. “Oh
Jarrod! How good to see you!” Victoria stepped back and allowed her mother’s
eye to examine her son in every detail. “You look wonderful Jarrod. Silas must
be feeding you well.”
‘That he is mother.
That he is.” Looking over his mother’s silver crown of soft coiffed curls,
Jarrod quickly locked eyes with his little sister. “Audra! I’ve missed you,
honey. I’m glad you’re home.”
“Oh Jarrod, I’ve
missed you too. I’m so glad to be home. Come over here and give me a hug, big
brother.” Jarrod eagerly obliged and the oldest and youngest of the Barkley
children embraced in a hug full of tender brotherly and sisterly affection.
Stepping back from
his sister’s warm embrace, Jarrod directed his eyes to the maroon velvet
curtain slid across the entry of Heath’s sleeping compartment. “And now I want
to see that rascal you brought home from San Francisco. Heath?” Jarrod with a
flourish, pushed the curtain aside and entered the compartment where his
brother lay on his back with pillows propped all around him to help minimize
any jarring caused by rough track. “Hello Heath! I’m glad to see you, brother.”
Jarrod moved a pillow aside and sat down on the edge of the narrow bed.
Heath smiled with
true affection towards his oldest brother and reached his hand out and clapped
it around his brother’s shoulder. Good to see you too, Lawyer man. It’s been
too long. I’m glad to be home.”
“Well boy, you’re not
home yet,” boomed Nick. “Soon as we get ya off of this caboose and get you in
that wagon, hit the road and get ya upstairs into your own soft bed, THEN
you’ll be home.”
Heath looked up at
Nick and a crease came across his brow. “Wagon, Nick? I can ride in the buggy.
Don’t need to go to the trouble of a wagon.”
“Oh no you don’t.
It’s no trouble at all. ‘Fact is, I intend to ride with ya, so that’s the last
we’ll hear about that.”
Heath sighed and
averted his eyes briefly from his family. A tight feeling like a piece of
course rope holding him captive began to grip his chest. Would he really walk
again? Would there ever be a time when he wasn’t treated as something so
fragile, something to be treated with such delicateness? Never a man to be
fussed over, Heath knew he had an uphill climb for independence. Would he be
strong enough to reach out for that independence? Yes, he would ride in the
wagon for now but just the seemed humiliation of being coddled and babied was
enough to strengthen his resolve to not give up. He would walk again. The
challenge, he knew now, was to keep that resolve. He knew things weren’t going
to be easy. The doctors in San Francisco had made that clear. He had to walk
again if not for himself alone, for the family who loved him. He couldn’t allow
himself to be an invalid for their sakes. His jaw clenched as Nick and Jarrod
moved him swiftly from the railroad car to the waiting wagon with its soft
blankets and quilts. Would he be strong enough to endure all that would to be
necessary to become a useful member of this family again? The feeling of
tightness encircling him compressed tighter causing him to involuntarily groan.
“You okay?” Nick
reached down and held his face gently with one large calloused hand.
“Yeah big brother.
Just want to get home to that soft bed.”
Soon after Heath was
carried by Nick and Jarrod upstairs and settled into his bed, Victoria
marshaled her troops together in the form of a family meeting. Everyone
gathered in the library to map out a course of action to be taken in Heath’s
therapy and rehabilitation.
While Jarrod and
Nick opted for a spirited beverage, though it was still rather early in the
afternoon, Victoria summoned Silas to bring a pot of tea for herself and Audra.
When he arrived and began to pour the tea from Victoria’s favorite china teapot
into matching petite cups with dainty gilded edges all around, she quietly
asked him to remain with them during this important meeting. Heath had lost a
lot of weight while in the hospital and Victoria knew that one of the keys of
him regaining his strength was eating hearty. She knew that Silas had a knack
of tempting even the most finicky appetite and confided in him that she would
be counting on him to get Mr. Heath plumped up and strong. Silas beamed at his
assignment. He nodded in agreement to her request. So like Miz Barkley to treat
him so kindly and to have the utmost confidence in his abilities.
“Yez, Miz Barkley. I
will see to it that Mr. Heath eats. I’ll have those hollow cheeks of his filled
out in no time, you’ll see.”
“I know you will
Silas,” she replied. I thank you for your concern for my son.”
“Yez, ma’am. Mr.
Heath, he be very special. Don’t you worry none now. Ol’ Silas will make sure
he eats good and gets his strength back.”
“Thank you Silas.
You may go now. Oh, will you please go upstairs and check to see that Heath is
resting well?”
“Yes’m. I’ll go up
right now. Thank you ma’am.”
The heavy oak door closed
softly as Silas exited the room. Jarrod got up to pour himself another drink
and offered one to his brother.
“Don’t mind if I do
if you’re pouring,” replied Nick as he held his glass out to his oldest
sibling.
“Now,” began
Victoria, sitting regally in a velvet dark blue wingback chair. Everyone in the
room turned their attention to the Matriarch of the Barkley Empire. Only to the
members in this room, she was more than just the figurehead of one of the
wealthiest ranching families in California. No, this small but powerful woman
was more than that; she was their Mother and as so, out of love, honor and
respect, they each gave her their undivided attention to what she had to say.
“My children, we
have a big job to do and it has everything to do with your brother upstairs.
I’m hoping that each and every one of you is up to the task. The doctors have
indeed done a wonderful job in Heath’s physical recovery. I am most thankful
for their skillful and expert care, and I am confident when the time is right,
Heath will walk again. Oh more than that. He will return to ranching and living
the life that he loves. By following the instructions given here,” Victoria
took a rather thick envelope of papers that had been lying on the marble lamp
table at her side and set it in her lap and continued. “I know he will recover
completely, physically.”
“Oh mother! That’s
wonderful,” beamed Audra.
“Yes, dear. It’s a
wondrous thing. But there’s something I’m very worried about and that too must
be spoken about at this time.”
“What is it? What
mother?” Audra looked utterly perplexed as she voiced her question.
Victoria for a
moment was silent; her head bowed as her small hands unconsciously gripped the
envelope she was holding tighter to herself. Sighing sadly she lifted her head
again and faced her children. “I’m afraid for Heath emotionally. While his body
will heal and will become strong again in a relatively short time, I’m afraid
it will be harder to heal the emotional hurts done to him by,” she turned to
her oldest son as if seeking an answer to a question held in her mind. “By
whomever is responsible for this.”
Jarrod spoke now
hoping that what he said would bring some sort of comfort to his mother and the
rest of his family. “We have reason, strong reason to believe that J.R. and
Zach Morton may be the responsible parties. There is enough evidence to try
them. They are in the Stockton jail now as we speak. Their trial will begin
next week.”
“I knew those
Mortons were responsible for this,” Nick roared. His eyes narrowed as he
contemplated the contents in his glass, his mouth twisting into an angry scowl.
“I should have taken care of those Mortons that night. Don’t know why we need a
trial anyway. They’re as guilty as sin and you know it, Jarrod.”
“Nick! We have
strong reason to believe that they were indeed responsible but we just can’t go
out and hang men without first proving it in court.”
“Why not?” Nick
retorted as he strode over and flumped on the settee facing the fireplace. “I’d
have no problem taking care of those mangy dogs who did this to my brother. No
trial for me. I’m for stringing them up right away. That’s what they deserve,
Jarrod.”
“Nick! That will be
enough!” Jarrod stated, his voice rising to a level so that his message was
clear. “Vigilante justice is not the answer, and getting yourself hung wouldn’t
get justice done either. The trial starts next week. There’s plenty evidence
against the Mortons. Let the jury decide and in the meantime, try to keep that
hot head of yours under control.”
“Jarrod’s right,
Nick,” Victoria said. “We’ve got to do this thing the lawful way. In the
meantime, we’ve got Heath to think about and your stomping around here like a
bear with its paw in a trap isn’t going to help him. Nick, I’m going to need
you. I’m going to need your strength and good heart. Heath looks to you and he
needs positive reinforcement now the most, not bitterness, contentiousness and
vindictiveness. Nick, I get the feeling that your attitude is going to be the
boost that Heath needs to get him through this. Oh, I know all too well that
sometimes your methods aren’t what I’d call standard and by the book, but
somehow it’s you, Nick, that can get through to Heath sometimes when neither
one here can. I’m going to need you, Nick. Can you put your anger and need for
revenge away long enough to help your brother? I’m counting on you.”
Nick sighed heavily
and momentarily dropped his head to his chest and ran his hands through his
dark hair. “I’ll try mother. He,” Nick looked up towards the ceiling to where
Heath was resting in his room upstairs. “He deserves that.”
“Yes, now as I was
saying.” Victoria continued her words to her family. “The most important job
that each and every one of us will have is to not let Heath stop believing in himself.
I’m afraid in his life, he has seen many things that no person should see or
have to live through and yet he did. His spirit has been battered and bruised
too many times. We must rally around him to strengthen that spirit and to help
him to see that he is worth fighting for. Do you all understand?”
“Yes mother,” Jarrod
answered as he looked around the room to his brother and sister. “I believe I
can speak for the whole family that we all want Heath to come out of this,
sound in body and emotionally whole as well. We’ll do everything we can do to
help.”
“Yes,” Audra agreed.
“I want nothing more in the world than to see Heath all together better. I’ll
help in any way I can.”
“Me too, mother,”
Nick joined in. “I’ll make sure that boy upstairs keeps his head on straight,
if I have to glue it on, as well as teaching him the fine art of using that leg
again. You can count on me.”
“Well, that settles
it then.” Victoria rose gracefully from where she was seated. “I have here a
program of exercises and therapies that we should all look over. Nick, I’ll
need you most in helping Heath to stand and such. Heath might have lost weight
in these last several weeks but he’s still a big man. Audra, I believe this
would be an excellent time for you to hone your domestic skills by assisting
Silas in the meal preparation and helping to get Heath to eat. You know how his
appetite is next to nothing when he’s not feeling well. I’m sure you can be
persuasive in helping to get some nourishing food into his stomach.”
“Hey Audra! Just
don’t try to feed him any of those pickled cucumbers of yours,” Nick teased.
“Ya don’t want to make him really sick now, do ya?”
“Oh you,” retorted
Audra with a mock pout. How her brothers loved to tease her about her cooking.
Everyone for a
moment relaxed at the banter between brother and sister but Victoria soon
spoke, drawing everyone’s attention to her once more. “Children, this family is
strong because of our love. Let’s show that love now by helping our own. Let’s
all do our best to help our Heath to truly get well both physically,
emotionally and spiritually. Jarrod?” She turned to her lawyer son and reached
for both his hands. He offered them to her and they gently covered her tiny
ones. “Find justice for this family, Jarrod. Find justice for Heath.” Saying
that, she stepped away and turned to leave the room. She reached the tall oak
door and turned again to face her family. “Thank you my children. Thank you.”
She again turned and exited the room with a swish of her silk skirt.
“Well,” Jarrod
started, looking around the room at his siblings. “It looks like our work has
been cut out for us. Let’s not let our brother down.”
“Let’s get to it,”
Nick chimed in. “ Let’s get that brother of our up and moving, making sure his
head is screwed on straight at all times.”
“I’ll go see if
Silas needs me in the kitchen,” Audra volunteered. “Nick? Jarrod? Heath is
going to be all right. I just know it. I feel it right here,” she said pressing
her hand to her heart. “As long as we all stick together, everything is going
to be just fine.”
Part 34
“Come on Heath! I
know you’re stronger than that. Push harder, boy!”
Sweat fairly
glistened off of the young blond man’s face and ran down his chest in thin
rivulets as he grunted with concentrated exertion, pushing with all his might
his right foot against his brother’s large, calloused open palm.
“Push Heath! You’re
not giving it your all. Let’s have it now. PUSH!”
“Dammit Nick, what do
you think I’m doing?” Heath’s voice rose and cracked in frustration. His chest
heaved and his eyes glazed over with exhaustion. “Ya can’t ask for somethin’
that ain’t there.”
“Whoa there. All
right now. Just, just calm down. I’m sorry. I know you’re trying.” Nick gently
released and settled Heath’s healing leg onto the bed. With great care, he
pulled the quilt up around his brother’s shoulders and stepped away from the
bed taking in a big gulp of air to calm his growing anxiety about his brother’s
progress or lack there of. “Why don’t you just rest for awhile? I’ve, uh, I’ve
got some work to look after down at the barn. Ol’ Sassy looks like she’s about
to foal any day now. Better make things ready for her. Can I bring ya anything
up?”
“No. Not hungry,”
Heath mumbled, fighting to keep his eyes open. “Maybe, maybe a sip of water.”
“Sure. Right here.
Here, let me help you.” Nick poured a glass from the pitcher on Heath’s
nightstand and brought it to his brother. He started to help prop Heath’s head,
but the younger man swatted his hand away. “Nick, it’s my leg that don’t work.
My hands work fine and I think I can drink a glass of water by myself.”
“Sorry.” Nick knew
how Heath hated to be coddled and drew back to let him have some means of
independence, though small as it might be.
“D’ya think Sassy
will be able to manage awright when it comes her time? She’s such a tiny little
thing.” Heath, ever the champion for the underdog or in this case the
underhorse, had worried over this pretty little filly ever since they learned
she was with foal. Sassy’s pregnancy had not been a planned event. She was not
really to be considered for breeding until the next year. Orion, a fiery and
feisty young stallion, new to the herd, had other ideas.
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll
pull through just fine. I’ll be there when she’s ready.” Nick replied less than
confidently, at least to Heath’s ears.
“Yeah. I’m sure
she’ll do awright,” Heath said with more than a hint of doubt.
Nick heard that
voice of doubt in his brother and spun around to confront what he had heard.
“Don’t you think I can handle it, Heath? It’s not like it’s my first time to
help birth a horse y’know. I’ve been down that road a few times before, just to
remind you, brother.”
Heath sighed. He
knew Nick was more than capable. He just would rather be able to take on the
assignment himself. Nick tended to rush things along and while the results
produced were usually good, Heath preferred a more gentle, methodical approach
to events like this. Even a little sweet talk would sometimes result in
favorable action. Nick, on the other hand, had no time for sweet talk and
cajoling, especially towards an animal of livestock variety. Oh, he would never
ever hurt anything. Wouldn’t dream of it. But still, to Nick, this was a
working ranch and ya didn’t dilly dally in getting things done. That included
the animals. Birthing would be ON TIME and no later.
“She’ll be fine,”
Heath yawned and closed his eyes briefly. He wanted so bad to will his leg to
work and was more than frustrated that it simply seemed unable to obey his
orders to move and support his weight. “You go on, Nick. I just need to rest my
eyes for a little while.”
“Alright then. You
rest. I’ll be back up in a little while and we’ll try some more exercises.”
Both men could feel
the tension stretch between them as Nick walked towards Heath’s bedroom door to
go downstairs. The door shut softly and Heath could feel his jaw clench
involuntarily. He listened as his breath hissed between his teeth in a long
drawn out exhale. He sharply turned his head to the side and pulled part of his
pillow into his face. Alone with no one to witness his anguish, he allowed a
sob to escape, muffled into the softness of his feather pillow.
Unbeknownst to
Heath, as Nick left his room, his own jaw was set just as tight and he too was
breathing out his own breath of discouragement.
Victoria entered
through the large front door from tending to her prize roses and immediately stopped
as she saw her middle son descending the grand staircase. His face looked like
a dark rain cloud about ready to burst. His agitation caused his spurs to
jingle in staccato.
“Nick! What’s wrong?
Did something happen to Heath?” Victoria’s heart leaped momentarily into her
throat, thinking that Heath had taken a bad turn for the worse.
“No Mother,” Nick
assured her in a low voice, avoiding her concerned gaze. “Heath’s fine. He’s
resting.” He moved quickly to go outside, not wanting to have his mother see
how upset he really was about the blond family member upstairs in the room just
down the hall.
“Nick, I know better
than that,” Victoria remarked as she thrust her hand out and firmly rested it
on her son’s arm. “Your face doesn’t lie Nick. Something is wrong. Do you want
to talk about it?”
“Mother, it’s been
two weeks since we’ve been home and he’s not getting better.”
“Nick, sweetheart,
these things take time.”
Victoria hoped the
encouraging tone of her voice hid securely her own doubts and worries. Two
weeks Heath had been home and while he still wasn’t walking, that wasn’t what
was worrying her. That part of his recovery was normal. He had suffered a
severe injury. The therapy to get him on his feet and walking again would take
time. Much time. No, it was something else that was far more bothersome. It
seemed to her that Heath seemed almost non-motivated to get well. He still was
eating poorly, despite Silas and Audra’s best efforts to tempt his appetite. It
was as if he had somehow given up on himself. The doctors had warned that this
would be a real possibility. It was as if he had no spark in him. How she
longed to see the twinkle in those deep sapphire eyes again. It was Heath’s
eyes that had first struck Victoria when she met him for the first time. They
were Tom’s eyes. Full of life, a bit defiant and abounding in love. Now they
appeared dull and lifeless as though a great sorrow and the absence of faith
had moved in to take over. There had to be something that would bring that
spark of life back into her son’s eyes. But what? Victoria still held high
faith that with work and perseverance, Heath would walk again. It was just a
matter of time. But she also knew that Heath would not succeed in this quest if
he gave up on himself. How or what could bring back that faith and hope he
needed in himself?
“I hope you’re
right, Mother.”
“Well, one thing we
cannot do, Nicholas, and that’s give up on him. We must have faith and show him
that we have faith in him. Maybe that will be a motivating factor in his
recovery. Keep the faith Nick. Keep the faith.”
Jarrod toiled hard
throughout the days, gathering and documenting evidence to prove beyond a
reasonable doubt the guilt of Zach and J.R. Morton. Many documents had to be
prepared and written up in triplicate and be ready for presenting to the judge
at the trial that had become the subject of much gossip and speculation in
Stockton’s saloons and meeting places. The jury process had been achieved
fairly smoothly. Beginning arguments had been presented and now the trial moved
through the various cross-examining stages and the bringing forth of witnesses
for and against the accused. Rufus had managed to hire a slick San Francisco
attorney who engaged in tactics bordering on ethical and moral impropriety, but
the skilled Counselor Barkley expertly thrust and parried with his own precise
account, focusing on the tangible details of the crime such as the feed sacks
that had been gathered in evidence. By weeks end, concluding arguments would
come into play and a verdict would be announced. Though he felt like he’d been
through a mental thrashing, Jarrod was still confident that justice would
prevail. It just had to.
Nick was more
determined than ever to bring his brother up out of the pool of self-pity that
Heath seemed to be submerged in. Day in and day out for the next week, he
stayed close to the blond, working and encouraging him in a way that only Nick
Barkley could do. At the end of the week, hard work and plain grit, appeared to
be making head way, for Heath was now able to sit up and with a firm hand, to
be placed in a waiting wheelchair. Once he was out of the confines of his room,
Victoria noticed that his mood seemed to lift somewhat and now that he was able
to join the family at the dining table, his appetite improved noticeably and
his sallow cheeks began to fill out and become pleasingly pink. Still there was
a melancholy about him that even Nick couldn’t seem to penetrate.
The sun was just
beginning to make its ascent to center and Heath sat mesmerized by its upward
climb as he sat in his chair on wheels, breathing in the delicious scent of
roses from the garden just outside of the verandah. He hadn’t heard her come
outside and was startled momentarily when Audra gently placed her hand on his
shoulder.
“What’s out there,
big brother?” Audra sat down in the wicker chair beside Heath, but not before
first giving him a soft sisterly kiss on the cheek.
“The world, I guess
sis. Problem is, I feel like these days it’s passin’ me by.”
“Don’t talk like
that. You’re getting stronger and stronger everyday. Soon you’ll be back out
there and Nick will be telling you what holes to dig and what fences need new
posts.”
Heath sighed and
lowered his eyes. Softly so that Audra had to strain to hear, he said, “I don’t
know sis. I don’t think I’ll ever walk again.”
Audra immediately
jumped up out of her chair and placed herself in front of her brother and
clasped both of Heath’s uppers arms in her tiny hands and looked him sternly in
the eye. “Heath Barkley, I don’t want to hear that. What’s wrong with you? You
can’t just give up. Of course you’re going to walk again. And you’re going to
be out on the range again. Believe in yourself, Heath. Have faith!” Audra was
growing aggravated by Heath’s pity talk and suddenly tears of frustration
sprung into her own eyes. “Don’t you dare give up on yourself Heath Barkley.
Don’t you even think about it!”
Heath was suddenly
taken aback by the way his sister was talking. She wasn’t kidding and her voice
and manner made him sit up and notice. It was if she was pulling a web away
from his mind.
“But sis.”
“But sis, nothing. I
won’t hear of this negative talk! You are progressing more and more every day.
Can’t you see it? Why, I bet within the week, you’ll be taking steps on your
own. Don’t give up Heath. Please don’t give up,” she whispered beseechingly.
Heath suddenly felt
tired and felt that he wanted to be alone. Alone to think. Just then Nick came
bounding up to the verandah after spending some time checking on the condition
of the little filly due to foal any day.
“Well, look who’s
out in this glorious sunshine!” Nick’s voice boomed across the verandah making
both Audra and Heath cringe a little. “It’s ‘bout time for us to get some
serious stretching in, whaddya say there?”
“I’m a little tired
Nick. Was thinkin’ of takin’ a nap,” Heath answered, pretending to yawn. What
he really wanted to do was to go back to his room and do some serious thinking
and re-evaluation. Audra had in a mysterious way jolted his previous rut of
thinking he’d gotten himself into. Maybe it was time to slip out of that mode
and try to seriously think that he would walk again.
“Nap? In the middle
of the day? What kind of cowboy are you? If you were workin’ for me, I’d fire
your sorry butt for sleepin’ on the job. Nap,” Nick snorted.
“Nick, I don’t work
for you,” Heath reminded him in a soft even voice with a hint of flash to his
blue eyes. “I’m your partner, remember?” And now if you don’t mind, boss, I’m
goin’ up to my room and takin’ a rest. I’ll collect my pay and be on my way
when I wake up.”
Nick thought he had
struck a sour note with his little ‘I’m the boss’ speech and was about to
apologize to his brother when he saw Heath quirk his little sideways smile at
him. “And now boss man, if you’ll kindly help this poor ol’ cowpoke inside and
up the stairs, I’d be must obliged.”
Nick couldn’t help
but laugh a hearty laugh as he pushed Heath’s chair inside the house. That was
the first time in a longer time than he could remember that Heath brand of
familiar humor had surfaced.
“We’ll work that leg
a marathon when you wake up, How’s that?” Nick asked as he settled Heath into
his bed and made sure he was comfortable.
“Mmmmhmmmmm,” Heath answered
drowsily and pretended to drift off to sleep.
As soon as his
bedroom door clicked shut, and spurs where heard jangling down the hallway,
Heath’s eyes popped open and he slowly lifted himself into a sitting position.
At first he just sat on the edge of his bed thinking. Thinking of the ranch and
the goings on, like Sassy, so tiny and about to give birth. Such a little
thing, he thought to himself. I should be there to help her. Nick was certainly
capable and would do a fine job but he wanted to witness this particular birth
as he had a special fondness for this youngster. He thought back to what Nick
had said just yesterday at dinner. He had mentioned that Sassy wasn’t as far
along as he first projected but would probably foal in the next two weeks tops.
Two weeks, Heath thought to himself. Could he be strong enough to walk even if
it was with a crutch in two weeks? His thoughts rested on Audra’s fierce
determination that he try. Try and don’t give up. What if, what if he could
manage to walk well enough at least to be down at the barn to witness this
little lady’s birthing? Well, Heath, ain’t no time like the present to start
workin’ on getting to that point right now, he sternly told himself. You ain’t
no quitter so quit feelin’ sorry for yourself and start working to get better.
Another week
stretched by and the middle of another. Jarrod’s impressive maneuvers in the
courtroom were keeping Rufus Morton’s fancy San Francisco Attorney at bay and
Jarrod felt confident in him winning this case, which would see justice done
and send Zach and J.R. Morton to San Quentin for a good 20 years. Several of
the Barkley hands, including Charlie, had testified under oath, the gloating
way the Morton boys had approached them at the start of the Fair, bragging and
carrying on how they would win the bull riding competition any way they could.
No Barkley, and especially no half Barkley was going to bring their name to
shame. Nick was due up to provide his testimony against the defense but that
would wait until court adjourned until 9:00 the next morning.
Heath was working
harder than he ever thought he could. So determined he was to walk again. While
every family member played a part in his recovery; Silas with Audra’s
assistance in filling out the baggy jeans that at the beginning of Heath’s
convalesce ness, hung loose but now were again forming well over his pleasing
form. Victoria helped keep him abreast of the newest happenings in town and
acted truly as the mother she was, making him eat what was on his plate instead
of chasing it around only to really eat little. Jarrod, of course, was busy
with the trial to bring justice. To right a wrong. Often he stayed late in town
pouring over documents, setting up his arguments for court the next day. And
Nick? Nick continued as Heath’s closest contact and played the role of chief
physical therapist. Through diligence and Nick’s one passion for Heath to get
well, Heath’s muscles were now yielding and gaining strength. His previously
tied up tendons were at last becoming relaxed and flexible. It would only stand
to reason that Heath should be able to support his weight and at least take
some small steps, but so far progress had not gotten that far. While he would
stand with assistance, Heath continued unsure and seemed almost like a leaf
hanging by a thread in a tree on a Fall’s day. One gust of wind would surely
topple it from its home and blow it to the ground.
Not being able to
give in to a good night’s sleep due to lack of activity, Heath spent many
sleepless nights staring at the ceiling above his bed. It was on those nights
that he would hoist himself into a sitting position at the edge of his bed.
Then with no one to see him, he would try to stand alone. Many nights over the
last week and a half this became an almost nightly exercise. Unfortunately, it
was an exercise in futility. While he could manage to stand, he couldn’t seem
to take that first step. Every time he would start to move his foot forward,
his muscles would constrict, his heart would race, his breathing would come in
pants and his whole body would prickle and soon become cold with a clammy
sweat. Pure fear would grip him and hold fast, causing him to eventually fall
back onto his bed, shaken, exhausted, feeling desperately discouraged.
After yet another
night of feeling this all-consuming brittle fear, Heath collapsed back against
his pillow. Closing his eyes, his mind drifted to the heart to heart talk he
had with Nick earlier in the day. He had admitted to his brother to his late
night “self-therapy” sessions. He also admitted with great difficulty, only
forming the words after a long pause, for which Nick, to his credit, was silent
during this time, the ice cold fear he experienced each time he tried to stand
on his own and attempt a step. The thought of actually walking again was
scaring Heath to death. The blond cowboy admitted, haltingly, after gentle
encouragement from his brother, that he was afraid of putting real weight on
his almost healed limb. He was afraid that the extra weight exerted would cause
the bone to splinter and break again. Heath knew in his heart that his fear was
unfounded and irrational, but he couldn’t help it. The trauma and pain of his
original injury was too great in his memory. So great was the trauma that it
had tricked his mind. In his mind, he was destined to suffer the pain all over
again if he bore weight on that leg.
“Well, I’m not
givin’ up on you boy,” Nick had reassured him with fire in his eyes and
determination in his voice. “So you can just believe that we are gonna get you
walkin’ again some time, some how.” Heath lay in the darkness, his eyes
adjusted to the lack of light, watching the wisp of drape cloth from his window
billow inward, an inviting breeze caressing the hair on his bare chest. His
lips formed a slight smile of remembrance of his brother’s next words; “We’re
gonna somehow get into that mind of yours and turn it around so that it’s
pointin’ right, ya hear me? I’m not giving up on you Heath,” Nick repeated his
earlier conviction. “Not ever.”
Nick was at this
moment down in the barn tending to Sassy who appeared to be ready to give birth
in the next few hours. Knowing Nick, he would be settled in for the night,
having taken a blanket and a pillow to rest a spell during the laboring. Heath
chuckled inwardly. Also knowing how most mares really hated having an audience
at such events as their own foaling, he wouldn’t be surprised that while Nick
ducked out to get a few winks in, little Sassy would take care of the complete
show herself. Still, he sighed, how he wanted to be down amongst it all when
the new foal stood on its feet for the first time.
Turning over on his
side, and pulling the quilt up over his bare shoulder, Heath allowed his mind
rest and his eyes to shut in sleep.
A high-pitched
screeching bolted Heath straight up in his bed. His heart was pounding wildly.
He cocked his head and listened intently. There is was again! It was the sound
of an animal in distress. Sassy! Something was wrong! Reaching his hand to the
floor beside his bed, his hands gripped firmly on the two crutches lying there.
He set them upright with his left hand and threw off his bedcovers with his
right. Carefully, he swung his legs over the edge of his bed until both feet
rested on the cold wood floor beneath them. Suddenly he heard that pitiful
sound of distress again. Its awful high-pitched yowl coming through his open
window down from the barn below.
Nick! He needs help.
Gotta somehow get down to the barn.
“Mother! Jarrod!”
Heath called out as he fumbled with the crutches. Standing slowly, he finally
managed to tuck one and then the other under his arms. Suddenly he felt flush
and his head started to swim. Somehow his quilt had managed to get wrapped
around the bottom of one crutch and while Heath fought to stand through his
dizziness, he was at the same time trying to untangle the quilt from around his
crutch.
“Jarrod! Mother! Oh
God, help me.”
The sounds of Sassy
in the throes of labor assaulted his brain again. The room was spinning. Heath was
forced to sag back down on the edge of his bed. He closed his eyes tight,
bringing his hands to a vice-grip over his temples to stop the nausea that was
threatening to unload its contents into his lap, dropping the crutches in the
process. Their clatter seemed to echo and drive through his head as they fell
to the floor.
Taking deep breaths
and trying to stabilize the sickness he felt, Heath finally felt the room stop
its merry-go-round. While holding his forehead with one hand, he gingerly bent
down and with the other hand shaking, he reached for and grasped a hold of one
of the crutches. Using the captured crutch as a hook, he slowly maneuvered the
other crutch towards himself and when it was within his grasp, he seized hold
of it with his free hand and thought about what he had to do next.
One more time, he
called out to his mother and brother but it was as if his voice was carried
right out his open window and into the night. He had to make his way to Nick in
the barn and to Sassy. They needed his help. He couldn’t just lie here and let
the poor animal die. He had to act. He had to move NOW. Struggling to stand
once more, Heath righted himself on two wobbly legs. Sweat was running down his
back and chest freely and dampened the drawstring waist of the muslin sleep
pants he wore. No time to try to manage getting into a shirt with these things,
he thought as he balanced, teetering on his crutches. The night was warm. He’d
be all right. Come on Heath. Buck up! You’ve got to do this, he told himself. Ain’t
nobody else gonna help ya but yourself.
Taking a final deep
breath in, hoping it would bolster his confidence and take away even a little
bit of the raw fear he was feeling, Heath tentatively moved his right crutch
forward and raised his right foot. Trembling, he placed it forward and eased
his full weight upon it with a grunt. Moving the left crutch forward, he
brought the left, uninjured leg forward as well to meet up with the right.
Sweat ran into his eyes and was mixed with real tears as he came to the full
realization that he had just taken his first step and nothing had happened. No
bone splintered and he hadn’t collapsed in pain. Taking another step with his
healing leg he duplicated that first step, bringing his left leg and left
crutch to resting position beside the right. Heath held steady for a moment as
he balanced, holding both crutches in his left hand as he swiped his right hand
across his face, trying to removed the tears and sweat that were stinging his
eyes.
Putting the crutches
once again into position, and allowing another deep breath to escape from him,
Heath proceeded to take several more steps that took him to his closed bedroom
door. Again, switching the crutches to his left hand, Heath turned the knob and
opened the door. His sole focus was to get to Nick and to Sassy. His confidence
was building as he moved with somewhat of a slow rhythm down the hallway. His
heart dropped into his stomach as he reached the spiraling grand staircase. His
brain worked fast and concluded quickly that the back stairway would be a more
reasonable way of descending from the second story. He managed with some
hesitancy to turn himself around and head back down the hallway from where he’d
just come from, past his bedroom door and to the backstairs landing. The
adrenalin of taking those first steps was now wearing off, making the blond
tired. Push on, he commanded himself. Gotta get to the barn. Gotta help Nick.
Looking down the narrow back stairway, he contemplated his next move. Tossing
the crutches down the stairs, he gripped the two side rails and using his upper
arms, his muscles bulged as he let his arm strength carry his body down the
steps, allowing only a small fraction of his weight to rest on his right leg.
Reaching the bottom, he stopped to rest and catch his breath, his chest heaving
from the exertion. He leaned his back against the cool wall that was opposite
the side entrance of the house and across the yard from the barn.
It occurred to him
that he hadn’t heard a sound from the barn since he’d started on his trek. What
if! What if she hadn’t made it? What about the foal? He had to press on and
help Nick. Reaching down, he managed to retrieve one crutch and then the other.
The distance between the house and the barn was usually an easy stroll done in
under a minute. Heath moved to the outside of the house and looked across the
yard. Tonight that barn looked five miles away. Shaking his head to clear the
cobwebs that seemed to be forming there, Heath ventured forward slowly towards
his destination. He was becoming so tired and even his slow steps seemed to
becoming mired down somehow. Panting heavily and sweating profusely, the door
to the barn was finally within his reach. Heath breathed a sigh of relief when
he saw that it was opened enough for him to enter, he and his crutches.
Heath was now so
tired and everything suddenly looked fuzzy. Shaking his head again to clear his
thoughts, the blond cowboy slowly moved towards the hayloft. In the darkness of
the barn, Heath struggled to allow his eyes to compensate and adjust
accordingly. Thud! His left crutch smacked into something on the ground.
“What? Who? Blast
it! What’s goin’ on here?” Nick’s head poked out of the blanket he was wrapped
up in, his bedroll spread out on the barn floor. His eyes squeezed shut for a
moment, not believing whom he saw in front of him. Can’t be, he thought to
himself. He peered up again at the form towering above him.
“Heath!”
“Nick. I, you, you,
Sassy, help.” Heath’s body would no longer cooperate in his venture and chose
that moment to rebel completely, taking the tall man down in a heap. Heath
would have landed hard on the barn floor had it not been for Nick seeing and
reacting to what was coming. He hastily jumped up as his brother began his
fall, catching him as he made his descent to the floor. Though Heath’s fall was
cushioned by Nick’s strong body, it was still enough to jolt him awake.
“Heath! How did you?
Boy? How did you get down here?” Nick didn’t know quite how to react to what he
was seeing. His brother didn’t have any assistance down to the barn. No one
else was in sight. The last time he’d worked with Heath on that leg, the boy
couldn’t even take one step on his own. How in the world did he get down here
by himself?
Heath, himself, was
wondering the same thing. He lay where he fell for a moment, letting his eyes
travel around the interior of the barn where he now found himself. “Nick?” He
finally raised his head off the ground, seeking out his brother. Nick? What
happened? How did I get here?”
Nick had been doing
some quick thinking and recollecting. He knew that often when Heath was sick or
sorely stressed, he would talk and even walk in his sleep. How often had the
older man heard his brother’s cries in the middle of the night? How often had
he awaken to find Heath in his own room, sometimes sprawled asleep on the floor
or more often than not, huddled in a corner, scared by some night terror from
his days in Carterson or sometimes even as far back as his childhood in
Strawberry? That must have been what happened here. But why? What would cause
Heath to feel he needed to come to the barn at the risk of re-injuring himself?
It suddenly dawned on Nick. Heath HADN’T hurt himself and he’d walked all that
way! In addition, he had to maneuver the stairs and yet he had accomplished
that feat as well! He had made it! He was walking again. His little brother was
walking! He was going to be okay!
“Heath! You did it
boy! You walked! See? I KNEW you could do it! Don’t you see? You walked and
nothing bad happened. You’re going to be awright, boy! You are going to be just
fine!”
Pure happiness shone
into Heath’s eyes for the first time since his accident. He had walked! He had
walked and no harm had come to him! He was going to be able to lead a useful life
again. He was going to be able to work the soil, gentle the horses……….HORSES!
Sassy!
“Nick! Sassy! I
heard her. She’s in trouble. That’s why I came. I heard her Nick! Gotta go to
her. We need to help her.”
“Heath, what are you
talking about? Sassy is okay. She foaled about two hours ago. She has a fine
lookin’ colt. Gonna be a fine stallion.”
“But I heard her!
That’s why I had to come! She was in distress. I know what I heard.” Heath was
sitting up now, his face becoming a picture of confusion.
“No brother. You
didn’t hear her. You were having a nightmare. It was a smooth birth. Why, I’d
sent some of the men who were with me back to the bunkhouse when I started to
think tonight might not be the night after all. I had just lain down to rest a
bit and the next thing I hear is the little guy’s whinnying for his first
dinner. I jumped up and looked in where she was at and the little squirt was
already standing, demanding attention. There was no hoopla at all. She
outsmarted us, that little one, and conducted business quite nicely, all by
herself.”
“Well, I’ll be.”
Heath scratched his head and looked at his leg and then up at his brother. “The
Lord must’ve wanted to give me a message loud and clear that I couldn’t seem to
hear when I was awake. Wanted to tell me that it wasn’t time to throw in my
cards and that I wasn’t gonna be a cripple for the rest of my life. Boy howdy,
Nick. The Lord, he does work in mysterious ways.”
Nick smiled down at
where his brother was now sitting. Grasping Heath’s forearms firmly, Nick
helped his brother to stand. He bent over to retrieve Heath’s crutches. Handing
him the crutches, Nick helped Heath to get balanced. He allowed his hold on him
to linger as he looked into his brother’s sapphire eyes and replied, “He sure
does, brother. He sure does.”
Pinks and purples
were starting to dab the sky as Nick and his brother made their way to the
house. A few hours of well-deserved rest would be granted until the day called
attention to the business at hand.
The courthouse
opened at 9:00 and Nick was expected to give testimony shortly thereafter. A
rushed cup of Silas’ strong coffee and a warm cinnamon roll would have to hold
the dark-haired cowboy until he could have a proper lunch after his turn in the
witness box.
The Prosecution and
Defense battled over Nick Barkley until late in the morning. Once, no twice,
Nick became so irritated with the jawing that was going on at his expense that
he nearly found himself in a cell for contempt. Jarrod, knowing how Nick’s
temper easily flared, skillfully broke in during these times and effectively
defused his brother’s hot tongue before the angry man got himself into real
trouble.
Closing arguments
would be made after a two-hour recess to allow both sides to cement their final
statements. Nick squirmed and paced nervously back and forth at Jarrod’s
office.
“Nick, why don’t you
go over to the Cattlemen’s and get yourself some lunch?” Jarrod suggested.
“You’re not doing me any good here.”
“What’s that
supposed to mean?” Nick stopped his pacing and pointed a scowling face at his
brother.
“It means, brother
Nick, that your pacing is doing nothing for my concentration. Now you want us
to win this case, don’t you?”
“What do you think?”
“Well then, so that
I can put my best foot forward this afternoon, I again suggest that you go
somewhere else, and I don’t mean the saloon, so that I can have some
uninterrupted peace and quiet to get my thoughts together.”
“Well, all right.”
Nick grumbled as he opened the door. “I’ll meet ya here at 1:30.”
“Fine.” Jarrod
turned to his briefs at hand and then looked up as Nick began to exit the
office. “And Nick?”
“Yeah?”
“Justice will be
served. For Heath’s sake. I promise.”
“I hope so,” Nick
answered back in a low, soft voice that Jarrod could hardly hear. “I hope to
God that you’re right, brother.”
Court was back in
session at 2:00 pm sharp. Closing arguments began passionately with the
Defense. The Morton’s attorney painted his words gloriously, trying to
whitewash the truth. His performance was on the lines of dizzying and dazzling.
Jarrod felt his jaw clenching with anger as this fancy high-paid defender of
justice attempted to play the jury with sugarcoated words of fabrication,
falsehood and out and out deceit. Jarrod knew what he was up against. The
Defense was good. He, Jarrod Barkley, knew he had to be better.
At last it was his
turn to be the spectacle. Jarrod chose his words carefully as he faced the
panel that would bring the final verdict in of guilty or not guilty. “Gentlemen
of the jury…”
The Judge pounded
his gavel to restore order to his court. He turned to the Foreman as the last
of the jury settled into their seats after coming back from deliberations,
which had taken a full hour.
“What say you?”
The Foreman rose
respectfully and faced the Judge. All in attendance were deathly silent, not
even daring to breathe. Victoria sat ramrod straight with her hands clasped
tightly in her lap, her eyes looking straight ahead. Audra bit down on her lip,
not daring to move a muscle. Nick sat leaning forward with his elbows on his
knees, his fingers steepled tightly against each other. His eyes frozen on the
back of Jarrod’s suit coat. It seemed like hours before the final verdict was given.
“We the jury find
both Zachary Buster Morton and James Rufus Morton GUILTY of attempted murder!”
A throng of joyous
voices immediately went up in the courtroom. Only Rufus Morton sat silent. Shocked
by the final outcome, it hadn’t dawned on him yet, but it would. Soon he would
realize that his sons were no longer his. They would be sons of San Quentin. He
had lost his sons. He had lost everything.
The Judge’s gavel
hammered numerous times in an attempt to restore order once more for the
sentencing. Finally a hush came over the room as Judge Dawson read the
sentence. “Twenty years in State prison at San Quentin for the attempted murder
of Heath Barkley.”
Rufus Morton never
did recover from his shock of losing his sons. There was nothing for him in
this Valley of Promise anymore. He eventually sold his land and moved back to
his birthplace, a little town in Clay County, Missouri. No one in Stockton
heard from him again.
That night in the
barn with Nick, Sassy and her new colt was a turning point for Heath, not only
physically but emotionally as well. The morning after the trial, Heath woke
early as usual to see the majestic fingers of light come up over the East
Ridge. The sun rose not only in the sky that day, it also rose in Heath’s
heart, where dark clouds of gloom had hung before. The blond cowboy continued
his vigorous regimen of physical therapy with Nick by his side through it all.
As his stamina grew, so did his confidence. It would be four more months before
Heath would resume all of his ranching duties, but while he worked towards that
day, he continued to be filled with new hope and gain a deeper love for his new
family day by day.
As another
unseasonably warm winters day drew to a close, Heath found himself out by the
corral. He had, for several weeks, been coming out here by himself. First with
crutches, then a cane and now he had mastered independence earlier in the week.
He watched as Sassy interacted with her colt. A feisty fellow, the little guy
frolicked and played as his proud mama looked on, darting out when she
perceived he was getting too ornery.
Heath smiled as he
watched the horseplay. He allowed his muscular arms to support him as he leaned
against the white corral fence. He closed his eyes, relishing the horsy smell
of the barnyard, listening with contentment, the beating hooves of Sassy and
her colt, named Blaze by Audra, for the blaze of white across his left side.
Content. That’s what he was. Content to bask in the love of ranching that would
always be in his blood and content in knowing that at last he was forever home.
Home with a family who loved him and would be there for him always and forever,
come what may.
THE END