By five o’clock that evening Heath was two hours north of Stockton.  At that exact time Victoria Barkley walked out the front door of the Congregational Church.  She and Tom had been instrumental in starting the church not long after they’d arrived in the valley, and in later years a large donation from them had helped fund the raising of this building.  Victoria shook hands with the minister.

 

     “Thank you for taking the time to see me, Pastor, and for agreeing to visit Miss Cobbs.  Though I know Sylvia is a diehard Methodist, she’ll be thrilled to have you stop by her home once a week despite the protests she’s likely to voice when you first arrive.”

 

     William Dyer laughed.  He was new to the area, having ministered at the church for just ten months.  As long as he lived Pastor Dyer would never forget it was the Barkley family who first made him and his wife feel welcome when he’d arrived to replace the former minister who had served the congregation for fifteen years.  It wasn’t easy for a young man of only twenty-six, and right out of the seminary, to fill the shoes of a popular man like Pastor Langhoff had been.      

 

     “Perhaps Miss Cobbs affection for the Methodists will give us good reason to campaign for the resurrection of a Methodist church in Stockton.”

 

     Victoria smiled and teased,  “Really, Pastor, I thought the only church you were to have concern for was your own.”

 

     “Unfortunately too many people think that, Mrs. Barkley, instead of realizing that through our many differences we can create strength, rather than dwell in adversity.”

 

     “You make an excellent point, William.  And I know of two Barkleys who would benefit from hearing that said in this Sunday’s sermon.”

 

     The pastor didn’t question Victoria as to whom she was referring to.  He assumed by now everyone in Stockton knew of Heath’s sudden appearance on the Barkley ranch and the claim he made in regards to his parentage.  If the minister had to hazard a guess, he’d say Heath was butting heads with the formidable Nick.  But William supposed that was to be expected given the circumstances. 

 

     “That’s not a bad idea, Mrs. Barkley. Not a bad idea at all.  I’ll see what I can get on paper along those lines between now and Sunday.”  The young man gave Victoria an uncertain smile.  “If I’m skirting the edge of what’s none of my business then forgive me but--.”

 

     “But what, William?”

 

     “Well...I just want to say that I admire what you’ve done for Heath, ma’am.  You’re an outstanding example of a good Christian woman.”

 

     Victoria gave her pastor a soft smile in return.   She reached out and patted his arm.  “No, William, all I am is a woman, plain and simple.  Just a woman who sees a heartbroken young man who feels as though he has no one he can turn to and grieve with.”

 

     “Grieve with?”

 

     “For the loss of his mother just seven short months ago.  I surmise Heath feels the subject of his mother is not a welcome one in our house, which is far from the truth.  Unfortunately, finding a way to let Heath know that is proving to be an insurmountable challenge.”

 

     “If anyone can slay that particular dragon, Mrs. Barkley, it’s you.”

 

     Victoria gave the pastor’s arm a final pat.  “I wish I possessed your faith, William.  I wish I possessed your faith.”

 

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Victoria rode by Jarrod’s office without stopping.  She knew he had been in court all day and was no doubt busy catching up on things his secretary had left on his desk.  The woman brought her horse, Misty Girl, to a stop in front of Krueger’s General Store.  Victoria had a small list of items Sylvia requested she bring her next Tuesday.

 

     It didn’t take long for Victoria to purchase the black thread, packet of needles, three muslin dishcloths, quarter pound of peppermints, and jar of Carolina mud.  She smiled at this last item.  Imagine someone paying money for something you could dig up out of your own backyard.  But Sylvia swore by the weekly facials she gave herself with the muck, and Victoria had admit for a woman almost seventy years old Sylvia possessed hardly a wrinkle on her still pretty face.

 

       As Victoria exited the store her mind was focused on getting home to the ranch after her long day away.  She paid little attention to the man who was traveling toward her on the sidewalk.  It wasn’t until he tipped his hat and said,  “Good evening, Mrs. Barkley,” that she looked up.

 

     Victoria smiled at the redheaded twenty-year old who had been a schoolmate of Audra’s and Gene’s.

 

     Is it just my perception, or is everyone in this town getting younger?

 

     “Why hello, Bobby.  How are you?”

 

     Robert Humbolt Jr. hadn’t gone by Bobby in a good many years now, but the last person he’d correct on that fact was Victoria Barkley. 

 

     “I’m fine, ma’am.  Thank you for asking.”

 

     “How’s your mother?”

     “She’s doing as well as can be expected I’d say.  Father’s death came as a shock to all of us as you know.”

 

     “Yes, I’m sure it did,” Victoria acknowledged.  Bob Humbolt had owned the only monument business in Stockton, or as some people referred to it, the gravestone store.  Bobby had worked along side his father since he was a boy and had taken over the business after the man’s sudden passing from a heart attack in March.

 

     Victoria smiled at Bobby as she made her leave.  “You take care now.  And give your mother my best.”

 

     “I will.  Oh, and Mrs. Barkley?”

     Victoria turned, looking up at the young man.  “Yes?”

     “Tell Heath if there’s anything wrong with that stone I made for him once he has it in place all he needs to do is come talk to me about it.  I would have set it for him myself, but he insisted on doing it.”

 

     “Stone?”

 

     “Yes.  Headstone.  One of the nicest I’ve ever crafted if I do say so myself.  But then Heath didn’t want to spare any expense.  He even paid me a sizable bonus this afternoon for finishing the stone in the time he requested. I told him that wasn’t necessary, but he wouldn’t take the money back.”

 

     Victoria had a strong suspicion she knew the answer to her next question before she asked it.  “Bobby, do you know who this stone was for?”

 

     “No, ma’am.  Or at least not if you’re asking me if Heath told me how he was acquainted with the woman.  But the name he had me carve on it was Leah Thomson.”

 

     “I see. Thank you, Bobby.”

 

     The young man wasn’t certain why Mrs. Barkley felt the need to thank him, but before he could make that inquiry of her she had stepped back into Krueger’s store. 

 

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     Victoria had no intention of wasting time by riding out to the ranch.  She purchased the provisions she’d need for a trip lasting three days.  Mr. Krueger gave her a funny look when she bought a Colt .45 and a box of ammunition, but then it was doubtful the pudgy asthmatic who hailed from Boston had ever spent a night camping out beneath the stars in the California wilderness.

 

     The woman packed everything in her saddlebags then headed for Jarrod’s office.  Neither Jarrod nor his secretary were present, which might be for the best as far as Victoria was concerned.  It would cause less of a delay to simply leave her son a note.

 

     Victoria found a pencil and piece of paper then sat at Jarrod’s desk.

 

 

     Children;

    

     Had to leave town for a few days.  Must help an old friend.  Will be back by Friday evening.

 

     Love,

     Mother

 

 

     Victoria left her son’s office as quickly as she’d entered.  She was glad she’d had the foresight to wear her grey slacks, riding boots, and a checkered oxford shirt today regardless of what Sylvia Cobbs thought of a woman who dressed like a cowboy.  Victoria mounted Misty Girl with practiced ease and headed north.

 

 

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     Nick arrived at the ranch hot and tired a few minutes past four.  He climbed off Coco and walked over to the pump.   He untied the bandanna from around his neck with one hand while the other pushed the pump’s handle up and down.  He held the blue cloth under the cold water, then used it to wipe the dust and grime from his face.  As he looked up he caught sight of Lyndall Barrett and Jeb Galloway in the haymow.  Lyndall gave him a big wave.

 

     “Hey, Nick!”

 

     “Hey, Lyndall.  Jeb.”

 

     “We got all that hay stacked like you asked us to,” Barrett said as Nick led Coco toward the barn.  “We’re just finishing up.”

     “Great.  Good job.”

 

     Nick took note of Charger in his stall.  He paused as he passed the ladder that led to the mow.  He tipped his head and shouted,  “Lyndall, you seen my brother?”

     “Heath?”

 

     “Yeah!”

 

     “About two hours ago I reckon!”

 

     “Where is he now?”

     Lyndall lay on his stomach in the mow so he could look down the opening and into Nick’s face.

 

     “He loaded a wagon and left around two o’clock I guess it was.”

 

     “Loaded a wagon?  With what?”

 

     “Some tools, a bedroll, two canteens a’ water, and some food from the kitchen.  Looked like he planned to be gone a while.”

 

     “Why that...” Nick didn’t finish his sentence before turning for the house.  “Thanks, Lyndall.  Thanks a lot.”

 

     The man smiled as he watched his boss run across the ranch yard.  “No problem, Nick.  No problem whatsoever.”

    

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     Nick ran into the house.

 

     “Silas!  Audra!  Mother!”

 

     He raced up the stairs, still yelling, “Silas!  Audra!  Mother!”

 

     For the first time in the four months Heath had been with them Nick entered the bedroom Victoria had assigned him.  He rummaged through the bureau drawers, pawed through the nightstand drawer, and stuck his hands in the pockets of every coat, shirt, jacket and pair of pants hanging in the closet.

 

     I knew it!  I knew he’d drain his bank account and high tail it outta here the first time he didn’t get his way. Well that’s just fine with me.  He can go if he wants to, and I guess the money he took is rightfully his, but I’ll be damned if he’ll just disappear without thanking my mother for the kindness she’s shown him.  I’m gonna find him and bring him back here if I have to track him to the ends of this earth.  And after he tells Victoria Barkley how grateful he is for all she’s given him, I’ll be letting him know that he’d better never show his face around here again.  You don’t come on this ranch and stake your claim as a Barkley, only to pull it up when the going gets tough.   

 

     Nick dashed to his room.  He changed his shirt and knotted a clean bandanna around his neck. He secured two sets of clothes inside his bedroll then charged down the stairs and into the study.  He grabbed paper from a desk drawer and left a hastily scrawled note for Jarrod.  He ran to the kitchen, threw some food together, then headed out the door.  He nodded his thanks to Lyndall for having readied Coco for another long ride by wiping him down and making sure he got a long drink of fresh water.  As Nick galloped away from the ranch he never thought to wonder how Lyndall knew he’d be leaving again.    

          

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     Jarrod arrived home a few minutes before seven p.m. with his mother’s note in hand.  Audra greeted him at the door with a kiss. 

 

     “Silas says dinner will be ready in five minutes.  Have you seen Mother?”

 

     Jarrod did nothing other than hand his sister the note.  Audra read it, then looked at her brother.

 

     “Who’s the old friend Mother’s helping?”

 

     “I was hoping you could tell me the same thing.”

 

     “I don’t know anything about it. The last time I saw her was right after breakfast when I was leaving for the orphanage and she was leaving to visit Miss Cobbs.”

 

     “Silas!” Jarrod shouted.  “Silas!”

 

     The black man entered from the kitchen.  “Yes, Mr. Jarrod?”

 

     “Did my mother say anything to you about being gone for a few days?”

 

     “No, Mr. Jarrod.  She didn’t say nothing to me about that.  But there’s a note for you on the desk in the study from Mr. Nick.”

 

     Jarrod and Audra entered the study together.  Jarrod read Nick’s note through once to himself, then read it aloud to his sister.

 

     “Went to find Heath and bring him back.  I’ll be damned if he’s leaving here without saying thank you.”

 

     “Bring Heath back from where?”  Audra questioned.  “And saying thank you for what?”

 

     Jarrod shook his head with puzzlement.  “Little sister, I’m stumped.  I do believe that, with the exception of you and me, the whole family has taken leave of their senses.”

 

     “So what do we do now?”

 

     “Wait for everyone to return from wherever it is they’ve disappeared to I suppose.”

 

     “Do you think they’re in trouble?”

 

     “By they, just exactly who do you mean?”

     “I don’t know.  Mother.  Nick.  Heath.  Any of them or all of them I guess.”

 

     Jarrod kissed his sister on the temple as he led her to the dining room. “No, I don’t think anyone is in trouble.  Nick and Heath are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, and Mother is perfectly capable of taking care of a lot of people.”

 

     Audra shot her brother a skeptical look as they sat down to the mounds of food that had originally been intended to feed five people, two of them hungry ranchers. 

 

     “I hope you’re right about that, Jarrod.”

 

     Jarrod kept his confusion, and his concern, to himself as he filled his plate and replied, “There’s nothing to worry about, honey.  Now eat up before your supper gets cold.”

 

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     Heath made camp late on Tuesday night, but only long enough to get four hours of sleep.  At two o’clock in the morning he hitched the horses to the wagon and pushed on toward Strawberry.  There was plenty of light over-head from the full moon, but he didn’t need the moon’s guidance to lead him down a path he could have traveled with his eyes closed.  He glanced up at the night sky.  The absence of any low-lying clouds indicated to the man the morning would be free of rain.  For that Heath was glad.  He didn’t have time to be delayed by a storm.  What he had to accomplish needed to be done today, the twenty-second of May.  He couldn’t give his mother much else now, but at least he could give her this.

 

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     Victoria rose with the first light of dawn.  She started a pot of coffee brewing, then made her way to the river she’d camped beside to wash up.  By the time she felt clean the coffee was done.  A slice of bread and a peach were Victoria’s breakfast.  The food was hardly what Silas would have served her had she been home, but that mattered little to the Barkley matriarch.  Long before the ranch had been successful to the point it could employ a large number of hired men, Victoria had been on her share of cattle drives.  She was an old hand at sleeping on the ground while eating dried beef and beans for the morning meal.  Fresh fruit and bread were heaven compared to those days.

 

     It was six-thirty when Victoria rode away from her campsite.  If she encountered no problems she should reach Strawberry by early afternoon.

 

 

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     It wasn’t difficult for Nick Barkley to track the wagon Heath was driving.  The man spent much of Tuesday evening fuming over this trip he was being forced to take on account of his so-called brother.  It took until the hot temperatures of the day began to recede for Nick to view the current situation with something resembling calm rationale.

 

     Why the heck would he take a wagon if he doesn’t intend to come back to the ranch?  That just doesn’t make any sense.  Plus there’s no way he would have left Charger behind.  He can’t make himself any kind of a living working as a cowhand without Charger.  And tools.  Barrett said Heath packed tools in the wagon.  What does he need tools for?

 

     Shortly before the sun went down Nick realized where the wagon tracks were leading.  He pulled back on Coco’s reins and sat in the saddle lost in thought until darkness fell around him.  As the crickets began to sing Nick dismounted and made camp for the night.  He wouldn’t sleep very long; he wanted to get an early start.  He was more curious now than he was angry.

 

     An hour later Nick sat staring into the campfire, his hands wrapped around his coffee cup.

 

     What could Heath be going back to that rundown old ghost town of Strawberry for?  Who in the world could be left there that he’s in such a snit to see?

 

     Nick climbed into his bedroll a few minutes later, knowing the only way to get answers to his questions was to head for Strawberry long before light kissed the eastern sky.

 

 

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     Heath tossed his hat aside and sat down on the end of the wagon.  With the tools he’d brought from the ranch it hadn’t taken him long to form a base for the tombstone.  Now all he had to was set it in place. 

 

     With the money he’d earned since his arrival at the Barkley ranch he could have purchased a stone much larger and grander than he had, but Heath knew his mother would have simply turned up her nose and laughed at what she would have referred to as a “foolish expense on someone who has all the rewards they need at the hand of their Lord.”  Therefore, for two reasons he chose a three-foot high stone that Bob Humboldt had sculpted into a cross.  The first reason being the stone’s shape reminded Heath of his mother’s favorite hymn, The Old Rugged Cross.  The second reason being, it wasn’t too large or heavy for Heath to handle himself.  He didn’t want anyone doing this job for him, nor did he want anyone’s help.

 

     The blond man had ridden into Strawberry at ten that morning.   The town was even more desolate than he recalled it being just seven short months earlier when he’d buried his mother.  He stopped to see Rachel and Hannah, but neither one of them was home.  Because Strawberry no longer contained a store of any kind he assumed they must have traveled to Hartford, a town fifteen miles away where anyone now living in Strawberry had to go for groceries and other supplies.

 

     The only businesses Heath passed that weren’t boarded up were the saloon, and the hotel run by his Uncle Matt and Aunt Martha.  The young man saw no sign of his relatives about town, nor did he stop to pay them a visit.  There was no love lost between Heath and Matt Thomson.  The man had been downright cruel to Heath’s mother throughout most of her life, and had made no secret over his feelings of disdain regarding the circumstances of Heath’s birth. Matt and Martha’s thirty-year marriage had produced no children.  Matt could have been the father Heath never had while growing up, but instead the man chose to turn his back on his only sibling and her child, judging Leah as though Matt himself had no sins that could be brought to light.  That last thought provoked a bitter irony within the blond cowboy.  For reasons Heath’s mother would never reveal, his uncle had gone by the alias of Matthew Simmons for more years than he hadn’t.   

 

     Matt Thomson hadn’t been present at his sister’s burial the previous October and Heath would be damned if the man would be in the graveyard today.  It might be un-Christian-like to not even ask Matt if he wanted to be part of giving Leah proper honor, but Heath didn’t care.  He had planned on Hannah and Rachel being here with him, however. Hannah was good at quoting passages from the Bible and saying prayers as if God was standing right in front of her.  But Hannah and Rachel were evidently gone for the day, and Heath had promised Nick he’d be back at the ranch on Thursday, so this was just something he’d have to do alone.

 

     The young man set his canteen aside and stood.  He tossed back the tarp and stared down at the engraving on the stone. 

 

     No matter, he assured himself with a bravado he wasn’t feeling deep inside as his eyes flicked over the words Bob had etched in the smooth grey slate.

 

     Leah Thomson   1830 - 1875    Beloved Mother 

 

     I’ve done a lot of hard things alone in my life, and I’ll probably do a lot of hard things alone again before my time on earth is over.

 

     With the same care he’d use to lift an infant, Heath hoisted the stone to his chest and shoulder.  He staggered a moment under its weight.  He was surprised to feel tears well up in his eyes.  He blinked the water away, then walked toward the spot where his mother lay.

 

 

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     Nick watched his brother from beneath the shade of a distant tree.  As Heath moved toward the grave Nick knew it would be difficult for him to set the heavy stone down without help.  The dark headed man plunked the heels of his boots into Coco’s sides.  The horse moved forward at a steady trot.  When Nick was just outside the graveyard he dismounted Coco and looped his reins to around a rotting fence post.  With silent steps he approached Heath from behind.

 

     At first Heath had no idea whose hands were gingerly helping him lower the stone onto its base.  If he turned around and saw his Uncle Matt he vowed he’d deck the man the moment the stone was safely on the ground.  But then he took note of the black leather gloves.  He wasn’t sure if he was any less angry at the thought of having been followed by Nick, but for the moment he had enough common sense to appreciate the help. No words passed between the brothers as the stone was eased into place upon the damp cement.   Nick stood back to eye their handiwork, pleased that the marker stood straight and tall on their first try. 

 

     Heath remained on one knee.  He looked up, squinting to avoid the bright sun. 

 

     “What are you doin’ here?”

     “Came to give you a hand.”

 

     “Well I don’t need a hand.”

 

     “I’d argue with you on that point, but over the past four months I’ve learned that you’re too stubborn for your own good on a lot of days.  I’ll take this to be one of those days and pass up the opportunity to flap my jaws in useless conversation.”

 

     Heath turned back to face his mother’s stone.  “Just go, Nick.  Go back to the ranch.  I’ll be there by tomorrow afternoon just like I told you last week.  If you wanna dock my pay for these two days then go ahead.  If you want me to work extra hours to make up for the time I missed then that’s fine with me, too.  If you want me to pay you rent for the wagon and tools I used, then I will.”

 

     “Pay me rent!  Oh for crying out loud, you don’t need to pay me rent!  You have just as much right to borrow whatever you need from the ranch as I do!  For God’s sake, Heath, sometimes...” Nick allowed his voice to trail off there.  He’d be damned if he’d stand in a hot graveyard and argue with his brother. 

 

     “Just go!”  Heath shouted.  “Just leave me alone!”

 

     Nick shook his head and sighed.  “Fine.  I’ll go.  See you tomorrow afternoon then?”

 

     Without taking his eyes off the gray cross Heath replied tightly,  “Yes.  You’ll see me tomorrow afternoon.”

 

     Nick stood over his sibling a few seconds longer.  When Heath said no more the man felt he had no choice but to respect his brother’s wishes and leave.

 

     Right before Nick mounted Coco he turned around to give Heath one last look.  His younger brother was now on both knees in front of his mother’s grave, and although Nick couldn’t hear any sounds, he could tell by the way Heath’s body was shaking he was sobbing his heart out.

 

     Nick Barkley wouldn’t deny he was a complex man.  Probably as complex of a man as Heath Barkley was.  Nick could raise the roof off the house with his temper, but when those he loved were hurting he could be as gentle as an old mama bear.

 

     Nick stepped back through the leaning gates of the cemetery.  Without asking permission he dropped to Heath’s side.  He wrapped his arms around his brother and held on for all he was worth.  He wouldn’t allow the distraught Heath to escape his hold no matter how hard the blond man struggled.

 

     “Don’t, Heath.”  Nick whispered.  “Don’t push me away.  You don’t have to grieve alone.  You have a family now to turn to when the load gets a little too heavy for you to carry by yourself.”

 

     Heath didn’t say anything in response, but that fact didn’t surprise Nick.  Then again, maybe Heath’s response came in the way he leaned more heavily into his brother’s chest and allowed his tears to be soaked up by the cotton of Nick’s shirt.

 

     Victoria Barkley sat atop Misty Girl just outside the graveyard.  Nick caught sight of her, but Victoria shook her head at him before he could alert Heath to her presence.  A silent communication passed between them.

 

     Help him in whatever way you can, Nick. He’s turned to you, his brother, for comfort.  Help him see that the tears he sheds for his mother doesn’t make him weak or less of a man in your eyes.  Help him understand we all have a right to hurt when someone we love dies.

 

     Victoria watched as Nick’s arms tightened around Heath’s shoulders.  What he was murmuring to his brother she was too far away to hear, but she had no doubt he was giving Heath permission to grieve for the woman he’d called mother.

 

 

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     When Heath had gained control of his emotions Nick released him and took several steps back.  He instinctively knew the blond man was now ready to have some private time with Leah Thomson.

 

     Five minutes later Heath stood.  He brushed at the tears still clinging to his lashes and passed Nick without saying a word.  Heath briefly glanced at Victoria, but refused to make eye contact.  If he had any thoughts or questions regarding her presence he chose not to voice them.

 

     Nick looked at his mother and shrugged as Heath climbed on the wagon’s seat.  He walked over to Coco and mounted. Nick and his mother waited until Heath turned the wagon toward home before following its tracks in the dirt. 

 

     Victoria would have liked to take this opportunity to nose around Strawberry.  Surely there were some people left in this old town that knew Heath as child.  Some people who had been friends of his mother’s who might be able to answer some questions for her.  Just once she’d heard Heath mention an Aunt Rachel and some woman by the name of Hannah.  Was Aunt Rachel a sister to Leah Thomson she wondered?  And if so, what could this Aunt Rachel tell her about Tom’s relationship with Leah?  And who was Hannah?  Victoria got the impression she’d been a friend of Leah’s, which meant she also might be able to shed some light on what had transpired between Tom and Leah.

 

     But Victoria could see that now wasn’t the time to make inquiries of Heath regarding these two women.  That was best left for another day.  She could always return to Strawberry in the near future.  Perhaps in a few weeks Heath would be willing to make the trip with her so that they could both get some answers to the questions that kept them awake nights.

 

      If Nick hadn’t been along Victoria swore Heath would have kept driving through the night until he reached the ranch.  He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the graveyard.  He’d sat on the wagon seat as still as a stone, never turning his head right or left, barely moving his hands as he steered the horses south.

 

     When they came to the rushing river Victoria had camped by the previous evening Nick said,  “Heath, hold up there.  It’ll be dark in an hour.  Let’s stop here for the night.”

 

     Heath kept driving, though both Victoria and Nick knew he wasn’t being defiant.  His mind was so far away from them he’d completely blocked their presence out.  Nick finally leaned forward on Coco and grabbed the reins just below Heath’s hands.

 

     “Whoa,” he said to the team while pulling back.  “Whoa there.”

 

     Heath didn’t protest his brother’s actions.  He simply put the brake on and climbed down from the seat.  He was at Victoria’s side as she dismounted Misty Girl.  He didn’t say a word to her as he began to remove the saddle, saddlebags, and canteens from the horse.  Even Victoria’s, “Thank you, Heath,” went without a response.

 

     Nick unhitched the team from the wagon and led them by their harnesses to the river while Heath unsaddled Coco.  He followed his brother to the water with Coco and Misty Girl in tow. 

 

     Nick tossed his hat on the riverbank.  He waded into the water until it reached his knees, cupped his hands, and poured the clear, cold liquid over his head.  He repeated this action while the horses drank.  Heath looped Coco’s and Misty Girl’s reins around the branches of a low bush.  He stood there for a moment making certain both horses could reach the river.  When he was satisfied they could drink their fill he dropped his hat next to Nick’s and started crossing the short distance to the campsite.  Heath watched as Victoria flung the tarp back from the wagon’s bed.  He knew his stepmother well enough by now to guess she was taking inventory of his supplies in an effort to see what she could put together for supper.

 

     The woman’s back was to Heath when he saw it.  The snake raised its flat head, poised to strike.  The thought flashed through Heath’s mind that it was odd he couldn’t hear the warning sound of the rattles, but he had no time to wonder why. 

 

     “Mother, look out!” 

 

     Heath flew through the air, his body slamming Victoria  between the shoulder blades.  Later he would recall hearing her startled gasp and hoping he hadn’t hurt her.  Then he would recall the pain as the snake’s fangs sunk deep into the flesh of his right forearm as though it had been anxiously awaiting the chance to unleash its pent-up fury.  Then he would recall Victoria scrambling to her feet and running away from him.  He heard her shout, “Nick, a snake!  A snake!”  and in a surreal sort of way, while the snake hung on for all it was worth, Heath thought it was funny to discover that Victoria Barkley was actually afraid of something.  Up until now he thought the tiny matriarch of the Barkley clan feared nothing.  Not man, not beast, not even an ornery old rattlesnake with a nasty temper.

 

       Before Heath could grab the snake behind its hinged jaws in an effort to get it to break its hold he heard the boom of a Colt .45.  Blood and gore spewed his shirt and face, and for a moment he wondered why Nick had shot him.  Several seconds went by before he realized no bullet had passed through him and that the snake was no longer attached to his arm.  He heard the horses scream, then felt the ground quake beneath his body as they bolted for the woods.  A part of Heath’s brain told him to get to his feet and run after them, but he was so weak and woozy that another part of his brain said the effort wouldn’t get him farther than two feet before he collapsed.

 

     By the time Victoria and Nick were at Heath’s side he was feeling like he’d downed a gallon jug of whiskey.  He gave his brother a lopsided smile.

 

     “Boy howdy, Nick...remind me never...never to put money against you in a shootin’ contest.  I bet...bet you could knock a fly...a fly off a bull’s tail at five hundred paces.”

 

     Without bothering to assess the bite Nick jerked his bandanna from his neck.  “That wasn’t me, it was Mother.” 

 

Nick grabbed Heath’s right shirtsleeve, popped the button from the cuff and ripped the material all the way up to Heath’s shoulder.  The distinct puncture mark of the snake’s fangs could be seen in the top of Heath’s arm halfway between his wrist and elbow. 

 

     Nick tied his bandanna tight around Heath’s biceps.  He knew his window of opportunity was small.  He couldn’t allow the makeshift tourniquet to cut off Heath’s circulation for long, but neither could he allow the snake’s venom to travel to Heath’s heart. 

 

     While supporting Heath’s upper back with one hand, Nick dug into the right front pocket of his pants with the other.  He pulled out his knife and handed it to Victoria.

 

     “We don’t have time to build a fire and sterilize that, but do the best you can to get it clean.”

 

     Victoria nodded and ran for her saddlebags.  She retrieved one of the new dishcloths she’d purchased for Sylvia.  She raced to the river’s edge, opened the pocketknife’s blade, dunked it in the water, then wiped it off with the cloth.  She repeated her actions four times before running back to Heath’s side. She passed the knife across his body.  “Here.”

 

     Nick took the tool while grabbing a hold of Heath’s arm just above the bite that was already beginning to swell and turn red.

 

     “Heath, I’m sorry.  This is gonna hurt like hell but I have to--”

 

     Before Nick could finish his sentence Heath interrupted with a firm command.  “Just do it.”

 

     Nick’s eyes held his brother’s for a moment, then he nodded.  Victoria reached for Heath’s left hand but he yanked it from her grasp.

 

     “No!  I might hurt you.”

 

     “He’s right, Mother,” Nick confirmed.  “He could break your hand.”

 

     Victoria made no reply to either man, though she moved closer to Heath and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.  She pressed his head into her collarbone then looked at Nick.

     “Hurry.  Get it done with.”

 

     Nick couldn’t help but think, That’s easy for you two to say.  He tightened his grip on Heath’s arm and pressed his brother’s palm into the dirt.  “You hold your arm straight and tight just like I’ve got it.  Can you do that for me?”

     Beads of perspiration dotted Heath’s forehead. “Yeah, I can do it.”

 

     Without saying another word Nick placed one hard-soled boot atop Heath’s hand.  He had no time to contemplate what he was about to do. His brother’s life depended on quick action. 

 

     With the steady hand of a surgeon Nick gripped the handle of the knife.  He slashed the sharp blade deep and long, making a four-inch gash directly on top of the bite. He ignored the blood that spurted from the cut, just like he ignored the way Heath arched his back and stifled a cry of pain.  Nick pressed his foot down harder onto Heath’s hand in effort to keep him from moving the arm.  The knife cut again, this time crossing the gash Nick had just made.

 

     Heath’s upper body sagged into Victoria.  His ragged breaths came warm and harsh against the bare skin of her throat. She wiped the sweat from his face with her hands while Nick squeezed the flesh around the snakebite to encourage the open wound to bleed.   When Heath felt Nick’s mouth on his arm he struggled to break Victoria’s hold.

 

     “Don’t!  Don’t do that!”

 

     Nick looked up.  “Heath, I gotta get this poison outta here.”

 

     “No!  Don’t!  You could swallow it!   If you’ve got a cut in your mouth it can--”

 

“I don’t have a cut in my mouth, and I’m not gonna swallow it.  Don’t worry, I’m an old hand at this.  Why hardly a year passes that someone around the Barkley ranch doesn’t get bitten by a snake.”

 

     Heath was fairly certain Nick was exaggerating when he said he was an old hand at sucking the venom from snakebites, but he supposed it was possible Nick had done this once or twice in his lifetime for some cowhand who’d had the misfortune of surprising a rattler.

 

     Victoria was fairly certain Nick was exaggerating as well, but she put on a brave face. 

 

“Heath, Nick knows what he’s doing.  Now please, sweetheart, just stay quiet and let him finish.”

 

     Heath bowed to his stepmother’s wishes, in part because Nick was still standing on his hand, and in part because he was far too weak and sick to argue with both Victoria and Nick Barkley at the same time. 

    

The slightest pressure in the area of the bite brought Heath off the ground.  He tried to remain motionless in Victoria’s arms, but each time Nick squeezed his arm, or sucked blood from the bite, or probed the flesh around the wound, Heath was arching his back in an effort to get away from the pain.

 

     When Nick’s ministrations stopped ten minutes later Heath was barely conscious. He was vaguely aware of Nick and Victoria getting him to his feet, but he wasn’t upright for long.  Nick caught Heath’s weight before the blond man could hit the ground.  Victoria drew Heath’s left arm over her shoulder in an effort to give Nick what help she could.  Between them they got the blond to the river bank.  The toes of Heath’s boots left a well-defined trail in the dust as he was dragged toward the water.

 

     Nick indicated to a wide, elderly oak tree.  “You sit there, Mother.  I’m gonna lean Heath against you unless you think his weight will be too much for you.”

 

     “No.  I’ll be fine.”  Victoria sat against the tree like Nick requested.  She held out her arms as Nick eased the unconscious Heath to a semi-reclining position at her side.  The back of Heath’s head came to rest against the woman’s shoulder.

 

Nick got on his knees and loosened the tourniquet. 

 

“We’ll have to take this off soon, but for now we’re going to try something.”

    

“What?”

 

     Nick took Heath’s injured arm and plunged it into the frigid water of the rushing river.  “Between the cold water and the tourniquet we might be able to slow the blood flow way down.  Short of cutting him again, I can’t get any more blood out of that wound. Let’s leave him like this while I get you two settled.”

 

     “Settled?”

 

     “I’m going to have to look for the horses.  If I can’t find at least one of them then I’ll have no choice but to set out on foot for the ranch.  There’s not much between here and there.  If I’m lucky I’ll run across someone on horseback or pulling a wagon.  If I’m not...well let’s just hope I am and leave it at that.”

 

     Victoria’s eyes rested on Heath a moment, then traveled to her middle son.

 

     “Nick, do you think he’ll...”

 

     “Mother, I don’t know,” he replied when Victoria was unable to finish her question.  Nick reached out a gentle hand and laid it on his mother’s cheek.  “He’s tough as they come.  If anyone has a chance of being bitten by a rattler and living to tell the story it’s Heath.”  Nick stood.  “You stay right there and keep that arm of his in the water while I gather some firewood.  I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

 

     Heath remained unconscious while Nick was gone.  Forty minutes later he was just beginning to come around as Nick brought the last of the provisions to the water’s edge.  The campfire was burning, Victoria’s saddlebags and gun were at hand, canteens had been filled with fresh water, and the bedrolls untied. 

 

     The setting sun caused the air to carry a chill. Heath felt the drop in temperature even more because of the way Victoria was still holding his arm in the river.  He shivered and felt the woman pull him closer in an effort to share her body heat.

 

     Nick knelt by his brother’s side.  “It’s about time you woke from your nap.  Now how about letting me take a look at that arm while I still have enough light to see by.”

 

     Heath nodded, but when he tried to lift the arm it fell back into the water as though the snake had drained his strength.  The dark headed man exchanged a concerned glance with his mother.  He shifted his eyes back to Heath and gave him a teasing smile.

 

     “You’re just gonna make me do all the work here, aren’t ya’.”

 

     Heath’s words sounded strangely distant and lethargic, like he was talking from behind one of those thick velvet draperies that hung at the windows in the Barkley parlor.   

 

     “You deserve it.  What with all that...that bossin’ and yellin...you’re always doin’ in my ear as though I’m...deaf...deaf as a stone.”

 

     “As far as Nick is concerned everyone is deaf as a stone, dear,” Victoria quipped in an effort to keep the mood light.

 

     Nick studied Heath’s arm, giving a preoccupied, “Hey now, you two,” at the teasing.

 

      Heath’s head rolled against Victoria’s shoulder.  She could feel the sweat from his hair soak into her shirt.  She strained to see what Nick was observing.  “How’s it look?”

     “Okay, I guess.  The swelling’s gone down a little, and it’s not as red anymore.  But he’s gonna have a heck of a bruise by tomorrow.” 

 

     Victoria couldn’t help but think that if all Heath walked away with was a heck of bruise by the time this ordeal came to an end then someone up above was watching out for him.

 

     Nick’s mouth puckered with indecision.  “Maybe we should just leave it in the water while I’m gone.”

 

     Victoria thought a moment. “I’ve got a better idea.  Isn’t a poultice made of mud supposed to draw snake venom out?”

     “It’s what the Indians swear by.  Or so I’ve heard anyway.”

 

     “Look in my saddle bags.  No, not that one, the other

one.  There should be a sack filled with things I bought for Sylvia Cobbs at the general store yesterday.  Take the jar of mud out and warm some water in the coffee pot.”

 

     “Jar of mud?”

     “I’ll explain another time.  Just do it, Nick.”

     Nick did as his mother requested. 

 

     “Don’t get the water too hot,” Victoria cautioned.  “We need to be able to use it without waiting for it to cool.”

 

     While the water warmed over the fire Nick rinsed out the bucket Heath had used to mix the cement base for his mother’s gravestone.  Victoria eased out from behind Heath and rested him against the tree.  She helped Nick mix the poultice in the bucket, then liberally applied it to Heath’s arm before removing Nick’s bandanna tourniquet.  When the doctoring was done she picked up a canteen, uncapped it, and held the opening to his lips.   He took four long swallows before sagging back against the tree.  Nick grabbed a blanket and covered his brother.  He knelt by Heath’s side, placing his hand on the blond’s shoulder.

 

     “Heath, I’m gonna be gone a while.  I need to look around and see if I can spot one of the horses.”

 

     “It’s getting dark.”

 

     “I know, but Coco will come to me if he hears my voice.  If I manage to find the team I’ll bring them back here, hitch up the wagon, and we’ll have you to the ranch in no time.  If I don’t find the team then...well, I’ll just have to see which of the horses I run across before I decide what to do after that.”

 

     “Be careful, Nick.”

 

     Nick smiled. “Boy, talk about the pot calling the kettle black.”

     Heath smiled in return at the teasing, then sobered. 

 

“Nick...I’m...I’m sorry about all this.”

    

“Don’t be sorry.”    Nick squeezed Heath’s shoulder.  “Helping one another is what being brothers is all about.  You got that?”

 

      Heath’s reply was drawn out and slow.  Nick wasn’t sure if that was because of his weakened condition, or if it was because, for the first time in Heath’s life, he understood what Nick’s words meant.  By the way Heath gripped his hand Nick was willing to bet it was the latter.

 

     “Yeah.  Yeah, Nick, I...I got it.”

 

     Nick gave his brother one final order before he stood.

 

     “You take care of Mother now, you hear?”

 

     “I will.”

 

     The cowboy placed his hat on his head then kissed his mother on the cheek.  Softly, so only she could hear him, he said,  “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’ll hurry.”

 

     Victoria leaned into her son for a moment. “Just do as Heath says and be careful.  We’ll be all right.”

 

     “I know you will.”

 

     And with that Nick picked up his saddlebags, hoisted them over his left shoulder, and walked off into the night.  Right before he was swallowed up by a thicket of woods he turned around.  His eyes rested on Heath for a long moment.  When he looked at Victoria he gave her a final smile and a wave.

 

     The woman waved back.  Though it was dark, she was easily able to read the distress and fear on Nick’s face. 

 

     I’ll do my best to keep this little brother alive you’ve been waiting so long for, Nick.  I promise I’ll do my best.

 

    

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

 

              

 

 

     After Nick left Victoria rummaged through her saddlebags.  She retrieved another new dishcloth, two peaches and some bread.  She took the cloth to the river, wet it, wrung it out, then crossed to Heath’s side.  He opened his eyes when he felt the damp cloth travel over his face, but he didn’t make any protests.  Nor did he protest when Victoria found his hands beneath the blanket, brought them into view, and wiped them off as well.

 

     Victoria rinsed the cloth again, this time using it to clean her own face and hands.    

 

     Within ten minutes of eating the sliced peach and piece of bread Victoria gave him Heath knew putting food in his stomach had been a mistake.  The stuff came up so quickly and unexpectedly that he didn’t have time to turn away.  He didn’t know what was worse, the burning feeling of partially digested food traveling back up his throat and nasal passages, or the horror he felt when he realized he’d just vomited all over Victoria Barkley.

 

     Before the young man could do anything about the situation he vomited again, and then again.  Each time Victoria took the sour smelling offerings all over the front of her clothes. 

 

     The woman scrambled forward on her hands and knees.  She tried to grab Heath’s head just as steadfastly as he tried to break her grasp.

 

     “Honey, don’t!  Don’t fight me!  Here, turn this way, sweetheart!  Lean over on your left side!”

 

     Somehow Victoria manhandled Heath into the position she wanted him.  He was still retching, though he had nothing left in his stomach to bring up.  When the dry heaves finally stopped he collapsed on the ground with exhaustion.  He felt Victoria place a cold cloth on the side of his face, and he was aware enough to rinse his mouth out with the water she gave him from the canteen, but after that everything grew dark and distant.

    

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

 

 

     Heath felt like he was suspended between reality and dream when he heard someone calling his name.

 

     “Heath?  Heath?  Come on, sweetheart, wakeup.   Heath?”

 

     He rolled his head back and forth without opening his eyes. “Mother?”

 

     “Yes, honey, it’s Mother.  Now come on, wake up for me.”

 

     It was funny, but when everything came into focus for Heath he wasn’t expecting to see anyone other than Victoria Barkley kneeling in front of him...the woman he’d just referred to as mother for the second time this day.

 

     Geez, Heath, could you screw things up anymore than you already have?  First you puke all over a fine woman like Victoria Barkley, now you’re callin’ her mother as though you have that right just because you’re her husband’s bastard kid.

 

     Heath struggled to pull away from Victoria but she wouldn’t let him.  Once again she moved to sit behind him and cradle his head against her shoulder.  He shifted enough to be able to tell she’d washed out her shirt in the river while he was oblivious to what was going on around him.  She’d also removed his shirt and covered with him a different blanket which must have meant a good deal of the mess had gotten all over him as well.

 

     Victoria barely heard Heath’s whispered, “I’m sorry,” as she continued to bathe his face.

 

     “Sorry for what, honey?”

 

     “Getting sick all over you.  I tried to turn away but I couldn’t.”

 

     “Oh for goodness sake, Heath, don’t worry about it.  Do you honestly think in my thirty some years of being a mother this is the first time one of my children has thrown up on me?”

 

     “But I’m not one of your children I’m--”

 

     “That’s how I think of you.”

 

     Heath turned his head a fraction so he could see Victoria’s face out of the corner of his eyes.  When he didn’t make a reply to her words she smiled.

 

     “Whether you like it or not, Heath, that’s how I’ve come to think of you in the four short months you’ve been with us.  And evidently you must feel something akin to that or you wouldn’t have called me mother two different times since we made camp tonight.”

 

     Heath turned away again so his eyes were on the water.  “I’m sorry about that, too.  I didn’t...I don’t have the right to call you that.”

 

     “Why not?”

 

     Victoria felt Heath shrug a shoulder. 

 

     “I just don’t.”

 

     “Perhaps if I give you permission to call me mother that will make you feel better about using the name.  Is that what you’d like me to do? Give you permission?”

 

     When the blond man didn’t answer her Victoria rubbed her hand over his shoulder.  “You know, Heath, I’ve always thought the feelings people have for one another are more important than who people are to one another.  If what my heart feels for you deems that the only adequate way I have of describing our relationship is by saying, “He’s my son,” then no one in this world has the right to question that.  Just like if what your heart feels for me deems that the only adequate way you have of describing our relationship is by saying, “She’s my mother,” then no one in this world has the right to question that provided you and I are both happy with those choices.  And I, for one, would be very happy with them.  How about yourself?”

 

     Again Heath made no reply.  In light of what the young man had done today in Strawberry Victoria feared she was being insensitive.

 

     “Sweetheart...I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to...well if by calling me mother it would make you feel disloyal to your own mother I understand.  I apologize for hurting you.”

 

     Heath lifted his left hand and rested it on Victoria’s arm.  “I don’t reckon you could ever hurt anyone.  You’re just not that type of woman.”

 

     “I think you over estimate me.”

     “No.  No, I don’t.  I...sometimes it’s hard to look at you and not think of her...my mother.   I don’t know if it’s coincidence or fate...but the two of you are a lot alike.  Even little things...like the way you wear your hair and your apple pie--”

 

     “My apple pie?”

 

     “It tastes just like hers.  It’s been my favorite dessert for as long as I can remember.  After I left home somehow she always knew...always seemed to know when I’d be showin’ up again ‘cause no matter what, one of those pies was bakin’ in the oven when I rode into Strawberry.  But to answer your question no, I don’t guess calling you mother makes me feel disloyal to my own mother.  She...I know she’d understand.  As a matter of fact she’d be pleased.”

 

     “I’m glad to hear that.  Would you tell me more about her while we sit here together waiting for Nick to return?”

 

     Heath continued to stare at the water.  For a while the only sound was that of the river crashing over rocks.  When the young man finally spoke Victoria had to strain to hear his words. By the thickness behind them she could tell it was difficult for him to speak, as though he was a child fighting the urge to fall into an exhausted slumber.

 

     “She was happy.  Always happy no matter how bad things got.  And sometimes...well sometimes the money ran so low things got badder than bad.  But you’d have never known it by lookin’ at her.  She was a hard worker, and not too proud to do what she had to in order to keep food in a growing boy’s stomach and clothes on his back.  She was soft-hearted.  Always ready to help someone in need as though she herself wasn’t in need most of the time.  Strict.  She could be real strict with me when it was necessary.  When I was askin’ for a whipping she didn’t hesitate to give me one.  I guess you could say she knew she had to be both mother and father to me and did the best job at that she could.  She was big on education, forever remindin’ me my ticket outta Strawberry would only come with knowledge.   She was a stickler for manners.  She always made sure I said please and thank you, and ‘no, ma’am’ and ‘yes, sir’ even to people who didn’t deserve to be given that respect ‘cause of how they treated my mama.  People like Mrs. Vanguard.  It was because of her...Mrs. Vanguard and John, that I had to do what I did.”

 

     “It was because of Constance and John that you purchased the gravestone for your mother you mean?”

 

     “Yes.  I...until I came to you I couldn’t afford a stone.  When she died last October all I had to my name was twenty dollars.  I fashioned a marker in the shape of a cross out of some wood I bought.  But I promised Mama that day I’d give her something better just as soon as I could.  And then at the party when Mrs. Vanguard said those things...called her a washerwoman and couldn’t remember her name...I couldn’t wait any longer after that.  I wanted the whole world to know that Leah Thomson was so much more than a washerwoman to her son.” 

 

     Victoria thought of the words she’d seen, ‘Beloved Mother’, and understood exactly what Heath meant. 

 

     She felt his tears splash onto her arm. His words got thicker and harder for him to say, though this time from grief as opposed to injury and exhaustion.

 

     “I knew Nick...I knew he couldn’t spare me from the ranch this week, but I had to go.  It was important...important to me that I put the gravestone in place today.”

 

     Victoria kissed the side of Heath’s head that was visible to her.

 

“It’s okay, sweetheart.  You don’t have to explain it to me or to Nick.  You don’t have to explain it to anyone.”

    

Heath continued as though Victoria hadn’t spoken.

 

“It’s her birthday. She would have been forty-six.  That’s why...that’s why I had to do it today.  It’s all...it’s all I have left to give her.”

 

     As Heath broke down in heaving sobs Victoria unconsciously rocked him back and forth in her arms.  She could barely make out the words he said through his tears.

 

     “She...she gave me so much and all I did was give her grief.  I...when I was a little kid she told me...she told me my father was an important man who...who had no choice but to be away from us.  She said...she said he didn’t want it that way but...but that’s just how things were and that I had to be strong and brave for him.  For a long time I believed her...believed that story even when people pointed at me and called me a bastard.  But then when I got to be around twelve I started...I started demanding the truth from her.  I wanted to know who my father was and why...why he’d abandoned us.  But she wouldn’t tell me.  And the older I got the angrier that made me until...until the day came when I was sixteen and I rode outta Strawberry.  I...I sent money home to her...as much as I could spare. And every so often I’d come back to visit her...but even though she didn’t say it, I knew no matter how long I stayed, it wasn’t long enough.  She wanted me...she wanted me back home with her but I was...young, and foolish, and angry.  So very angry.

 

“The last time I saw her before she passed away I...I told her I wouldn’t come back until she was ready to tell me who my father was.  Then six months later I got word she was dying.  I rode...rode home as fast as I could.  She was too weak to talk by then...but it didn’t matter.  Suddenly knowing who my father was held no importance, but it took my mother bein’ on her deathbed for me to see that.   She...she held me while I cried and begged her to forgive me.  Then she pointed to her Bible.  That’s when I found the article about Tom Barkley’s funeral.  When I turned around to ask her about it she was...she was gone.  And now, after comin’ to live with all of you, after four months of gettin’ to know my brothers and sister, I keep askin’ myself why I wasn’t good enough for him?  What makes me different from Jarrod...and Nick...and Audra...and Gene?  I know...I know my mother wasn’t his wife.  But why...why couldn’t he love me just like loved his other kids?  Why couldn’t he at least have sent Mama money so she didn’t have to work so hard?  So she didn’t have to lay awake...lay awake nights praying she’d be able to meet the needs of a growing boy.  Why didn’t he want to be my father, too?  Why...why did he hate me?”

 

     That was the question that caused Victoria to lose the tenuous hold she had on her own emotions.  She broke down and cried with Heath all the while holding him firmly within her embrace.

 

     How much time passed while Victoria and Heath cried together the woman didn’t know, but she was the first one who gained enough control to be able to speak.

 

     “Heath, I’m sorry, but those are questions I don’t have answers for.  But I promise you this.  In a few weeks, when you’re back on your feet, you and I are going to sit down and have a long talk about everything you can remember your mother or her friends ever saying about your father during your growing up years.  And after that, with your permission, I’d like to visit your mother’s people in Strawberry.  I can’t promise you I’ll come back with any more answers than we have now, or come back with answers we want to hear, but I do promise you that somehow, one way or another, I’ll do my best to bring us both peace where this issue is concerned.  All right?”

 

     Victoria felt Heath nod his head.  She reached her hand over his shoulder and wiped at the tears running down his cheeks.  “I’ll say one last thing on this subject tonight that I want you to know is what I firmly believe in my heart.  Your father never hated you, Heath. Tom Barkley was incapable of hating any of his children, regardless of the circumstances that brought them into this world.  I don’t know why he seemingly turned his back on you and your mother, but he didn’t hate you, sweetheart.  I know he didn’t hate you.”

 

     Heath didn’t say anything, but for some reason he believed Victoria.  He knew without a doubt she wouldn’t lie to him regarding this subject.  When he spoke his voice was nasally and hoarse.  “I’m sorry for the way this has hurt you.  I wish...sometimes I wish I’d never rode onto the ranch. You believed your husband to be a different man before I came along and I ruined that for you.  You don’t know how sorry that makes me.  How much I regret comin’ into your lives.”

 

     “There’s no need for regret.  I truly believe that one-way or another Tom’s...indiscretions would have come to light.  Those types of things simply can’t stay hidden.  And I’d venture to guess that if you asked your brothers and sister they’d say they’re quite happy that you’ve come into our lives.”

    

“Even Nick?”

 

     “Oh yes, honey, even Nick.  Especially Nick.”

 

     Heath couldn’t help but chuckle.  “I’m sorry, but on some days that’s just passin’ me by.”

 

     “On some days it’s passing Nick by as well.  But don’t worry, I have a feeling that...oh, quite recently, he’s come to that realization.”

 

     Before anything further could be said Victoria and Heath heard a shout.   

 

     “Mother, we’re in luck!  I found Coco and Misty Girl!” Nick broke through the trees riding bareback on Coco while leading Misty Girl by the reins.  “Me and Heath will have to ride double on Coco, but ole’ Coco can handle that.”  The man jumped from his horse.  “How’s Heath?”

 

     “He’s hanging in there, son.”

 

     “Good, good.  Oh, you’re wake.  Great, that it’ll make it easier on both of us. Let me get the horses saddled then I’ll help you to your feet.  You think you can ride all night with me holding onto you?  What am I saying?  Of course you can.  You’re a Barkley after all.”

 

     Victoria watched Nick saddle the horses, then fuss over Heath all the while keeping up a steady stream of conversation. Right before Nick helped Heath stand she gave the blond man’s shoulders one last squeeze and said,  “See what I mean?”

     Heath looked at her and smiled.  “Yes, Mother, I see exactly what you mean.”

 

     Victoria helped Nick get Heath onto Coco before moving to mount Misty Girl.  She waited while Nick climbed on Coco behind his brother and watched as he made certain the blanket was wrapped firmly around Heath’s shoulders.  Nick put an arm across Heath’s stomach and with his other hand took the reins.  Victoria urged Misty Girl forward as Nick pointed Coco for home.

 

     The woman offered up a silent plea as they traveled.  They still had miles to cover prior to reaching the ranch.  She prayed Heath wouldn’t die in Nick’s arms before they got him there.  Looking at Nick’s grim face, and the way Heath   was sagging against him in a semi-conscious state, led Victoria to conclude Nick was praying the same exact thing.

    

 

BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

              

    

     At seven-thirty on Thursday morning Jarrod and Audra were at the dining room table finishing breakfast.

 

     “Do you think Mother will be home today?”

 

     Jarrod shrugged his shoulders as he finished the last of the coffee in his cup.  “I don’t know.  Her note said she’d be back by Friday so I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

 

     “What about the boys?”

     “I don’t know that either.  Nick didn’t say when he planned to be back.”

 

     Jarrod caught his sister’s frown and countered it with a smile.  “Now come on, honey, none of that.  Everyone’s fine.”

 

     “But I just don’t understand it.  It’s not like Mother to leave without telling us where she’s going.  And it’s not like Nick to do that either.  And as for Heath...I guess I don’t know him well enough to say whether or not that’s something he’d do, but Nick must know where he is if he left to get him.”

 

     “Yes, he must.  So therefore it’s foolish for you to keep worrying.  Like I said, I’m sure everyone is fine.”

 

     Jarrod sat back in his chair as Silas entered the room, anticipating that the man had come to clear the table.

 

     “Mr. Jarrod.  Miss Audra.  It looks like Mrs. Barkley, Mr. Nick, and Mr. Heath is comin’ in.”

 

     Jarrod smiled at his sister.  “See.  I told you everyone was fine.”

 

     “I don’t know about that, Mr. Jarrod.” Silas crossed to the dining room windows and parted the lace curtains.  “Mr. Nick and Mr. Heath are riding double on Coco, and Mr. Heath looks like he’s feelin’ mighty poorly.”

 

     At Silas’s words Jarrod and Audra shot up from the table.  They ran together for the front door just as Misty Girl and Coco were coming abreast of the porch.  Jarrod raced to Coco’s side.  Flecks of vomit clung to Coco’s saddle, dotted Nick’s shirt, and stained the blanket Heath was wrapped within.

 

     “What happened?”  The lawyer asked as he reached out to take some of his unconscious brother’s weight from Nick.

 

     “Snakebite.”

 

     “When?”

 

     “Last night about eight o’clock.”

 

     Victoria dismounted Misty Girl and rushed to help her sons. 

 

     “Audra, send one of the men for Doctor Merar.”

 

     “I’ll go myself.”

     “That’s fine.  Just hurry.”

     “I will,” Audra promised as she raced for the barn.

 

     Jarrod placed a hand on Heath’s forehead as his brother’s limp body slid from Coco into his arms.  Although Heath’s face was once again dotted with beads of perspiration Jarrod couldn’t detect any fever.

 

     “I think he’s in shock.”

 

     “I wouldn’t doubt it,” Nick agreed, as he jumped from Coco to help Jarrod.  “He’s thrown up four times since I put him on Coco, and several times before that when he was with Mother while I was looking for the horses.”

 

     Victoria led her sons into the house.  She sent Silas ahead of them to turn down Heath’s bed.  Once they got Heath settled in his room the family could do nothing more than remove his dirty clothes, wash him up, cover him with a thick quilt, and wait for Doctor Merar to arrive.

 

     

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     Two hours later the doctor exited Heath’s room.  The Barkleys were huddled together in the foyer.  As soon as Nick heard Heath’s door shut he started up the stairs.  He met the doctor halfway to the top.

 

     “How’s he doing?”

 

     Howard Merar kept walking, forcing Nick to travel beside him.  The doctor didn’t speak until he was in the foyer with the rest of the family.

 

     “If Heath’s still breathing fourteen hours after a bite from a rattlesnake, which I can assure all of you he is, then I’d say it’s a fair bet he’s going to be just fine.”

 

     The grin on Nick’s face could have outshone the noonday sun.  Jarrod put one arm around his mother and the other around his sister. Both women leaned into him with relief.

 

     “Nick, Victoria, you can thank yourselves for Heath’s good fortune.  The two of you did everything right from putting the tourniquet on; to slicing the wound open so it could bleed, to sucking out the venom.  Though I’ve never heard of a snakebite victim being aided by having the afflicted limb thrust in cold water, that was a good idea, Nick.  I’m sure it did just what you hoped it would; slow down his circulation.  And Victoria, the poultice was another excellent thought.  Although a lot of people don’t put stock in Indian medicine, I for one applaud whatever works.”

     “What about the vomiting?”  Victoria asked.  “He was so sick on and off throughout the night, and then he threw up again while we were waiting for you to arrive.”

 

     “That’s a normal reaction with a snakebite, it’s caused by the venom.  I doubt he’ll be sick again, but I wouldn’t give him anything to eat until early this evening - which shouldn’t be a problem considering he’s fallen into a deep sleep he’ll likely not awaken from for a good number of hours.”       The man crossed to the table for his hat.  “I cleaned and dressed the wound.  I’ll be back tomorrow to have a look at it.  In the meantime let Heath sleep as long and as much as he wants to.  When you’re ready to give him something to eat it would be wise to start with chicken broth.  If an hour goes by and he keeps that down then you can try something with a little more substance if he’s still hungry.”

 

     Victoria led the man to the door.  “Thank you, Howard.”

 

     “Don’t thank me, Victoria.  Like I said earlier, you and Nick owe yourselves the thanks.”  The doctor looked at the middle Barkley son and pointed a finger.  “Oh, and, Nick, I don’t care how much work you’ve got to do around this ranch, Heath is not to be out there mending fences, breaking horses, or branding cattle until I give the word.  Which likely won’t be until sometime next week.”

 

     “No, sir,” Nick agreed, his face revealing his puzzlement over the doctor’s comments.

 

     Howard smiled.  “That’s what Heath kept mumbling you needed him to do as he tried to fight me for his way out of bed.  For a few moments there I thought I was going to have to call you and Jarrod to help me restrain him, but as soon as he got to a sitting position he passed out.  Which, I might add, was the best thing for him.  So when your brother wakes up please assure him that the only place you want him to be for the next several days is in bed.  If you don’t, then I guarantee you he’ll fall and crack his noggin the first time he attempts to put his pants on.”

 

     “Don’t worry,” Nick promised the man,  “I’ll see to it he doesn’t leave that bed until you give the word.”

 

     Victoria barely got the door shut behind the parting doctor before Audra started spewing questions left and right.

 

     “How did Heath get bitten by snake?  And where were the three of you anyway?  Mother, if you were going with the boys why didn’t you just say so in your note?  And

if--”

 

     Victoria put an arm around Audra’s shoulders.  “I know you and Jarrod must have a million questions to ask us. As a matter of fact Nick and I have a few questions to ask each other.  By the smells coming from the dining room I’d hazard a guess that Silas is putting breakfast on the table for Nick and myself.  Let’s all go have a seat.  We can fill you in on what happened while we eat.”

 

     Thirty minutes later there wasn’t a morsel of food left on Nick’s nor Victoria’s plates. Nor was there a question left unanswered in regards to how Nick and his mother had ended up following Heath to an old graveyard in the desolate town of Strawberry.

 

     Jarrod stood and rounded the table.  He rested a hand on his mother’s shoulder while bending to place a kiss on her forehead.  “And to sum it up, all’s well that ends well. I’m going to send one of the men into town to tell Karen I won’t be in the office today.  Since you and Nick look like you both could use eight hours of sleep Audra and I will take turns playing nurse for Heath.”

 

     Victoria smiled and patted her oldest’s hand.  “Thank you, Jarrod.  That will be a big help.”

 

     Nick pushed his plate back and stood as well.  “I’m going outside to tell Phillip to have a couple of the men get the wagon we left behind and round up the missing team, then I’m hittin’ the sack.”

 

     Victoria held up a hand. “Before the two of you leave I have something to say.”

 

     The three Barkley offspring looked at their mother, giving her their full attention.

 

     “I want you to know that last night, while Nick was out looking for the horses, I asked Heath to call me Mother.  If any of you have a negative comment to make about that I would appreciate it if you say it now, when Heath isn’t present.  You know that I’m always willing to listen to your thoughts or opinions no matter how much they may differ from mine, but this is one subject I will not tolerate someone hurting Heath’s feelings over.”

 

     Jarrod looked from Nick to Audra, then down at his mother.  He managed to keep his grin from breaking through, but Victoria didn’t miss the twinkle that made his blue eyes even brighter than normal.

 

     “The only thing I have to say is; it’s about time.”

 

     Audra smiled while reaching over to squeeze her mother’s hand.  “I second that.  As a matter of fact I’d say it’s past time.”

 

     All eyes turned to Nick.  Victoria held her breath when his silence lengthened.  She knew Nick still had a lot of emotions to work through before he fully came to terms with what his father had done all those years ago in Strawberry.

 

      The cowboy finally gave a slow nod of his head.  “Yeah.  Yeah, like Audra said, it’s past time.  After all, I can hardly have my brother calling my mother Mrs. Barkley, now can I?  Talk about confusing.”

 

     When Nick bent to kiss Victoria she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug.  “Thank you.  Your approval of this decision means a lot to me.  And it will mean a lot to Heath as well.”

 

     “Heath doesn’t need my approval, Mother.”

 

     “He may not need it, Nick, but he wants it.  He wants it very much.”

 

     This time Nick’s nod was minus words.   He winked at his mother as he released her, which was his way of saying he understood what she meant.

 

     Jarrod and Nick walked out the front door together while Audra helped Silas clear the table.

 

     Victoria left her family to their various duties and climbed the stairs for bed.  She looked in on Heath to find him sleeping soundly with his injured arm resting atop the covers wrapped in a clean, white bandage.

 

     She bent and placed a light kiss on his temple.  She remembered how she asked God to keep Heath alive until they got him home.  And now, as she dropped to her knees beside Heath’s bed, she remembered to thank God for answering her prayers.

 

      BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

        

 

     Nick woke up at five o’clock that evening.  He slipped into a clean shirt and pair of socks before pulling on his boots.  He walked to Heath’s bedroom where he found Audra sitting in a chair reading.  The cowboy kept his voice pitched low. 

 

     “How is he?”

 

     “Fine.  He was awake for a few minutes about an hour

ago.  Jarrod helped him make a trip to the bathroom, then he drank some water and fell back to sleep.”

 

     “He’s kept the water down?”

 

     “So far.”

 

     “Good.  Give a holler if you need my help with him.  Otherwise I’ll come up and take over for you in a little while.”

     “All right.”

 

     Nick trotted down the front stairs. He could smell supper cooking in the kitchen.  He didn’t see his mother anywhere, but the bathroom door had been closed as he passed by and he heard water running from within. No doubt Mother was taking a long, well-deserved soak in a hot tub filled with bubbles and those lilac smelling salts she was so fond of.

 

     The cowboy spotted Jarrod sitting at the desk in the study doing paper work.  Before he was able to hail his brother there was a knock on the front door.

 

     Jeb Galloway stood on the porch.  He was glancing over his shoulder as Nick opened the door.

 

     “Jeb?”

 

     “Nick,” Jeb nodded.  “I’m...I’m sorry about comin’ up to the house like this, but I really need to see ya’ if ya’ can spare a few minutes.”

 

     “Look, Jeb, I’ve had two long days.  Why don’t you speak with Phillip about whatever it is that--.”

 

     “I can’t speak with Phillip.  I can only speak with you.”  Jeb shot another glance over his shoulder.  “And it has to in private.  Where no one else can see us.”

 

     Nick got the impression the young man was terrified, but he couldn’t imagine why.  He took a step back from the door.  “All right then, come in.”

 

     Jeb took off his hat while Nick led the way to the study. 

 

     “Jarrod, I’m sorry to interrupt your work, but Jeb here needs to talk to me in private.”

 

     Jarrod rose and began gathering his papers.  “That’s not a problem.  I was just finishing up anyway.”

 

     “No, Mr. Barkley, you can stay.  I...well I guess you’d better hear what I have to say, too.  I might...I might be needin’ your advice as a lawyer by the time my story comes to an end.”

 

     Jarrod cocked an eyebrow at the nineteen year old. “My advice as a lawyer?”

     “Yes, sir.”

 

     Jarrod exchanged glances with Nick as he moved to perch a hip on the corner of the desk.  Nick indicated for Jeb to sit on the sofa.  Nick took the chair across from him.

 

     “All right, Jeb.  What is it you need to talk to me about?”

 

     “Phillip told us Heath got bit by a rattlesnake last night.”

 

     “He did.  But he’s going to be fine.  He’s upstairs sleeping right now.  The doc said he should be good as new in a week or so.”

 

     “I...” the young man nervously fingered the brim of his hat a moment.  He seemed to gather some internal strength from the action because he swallowed hard then spoke again. “I know how that snake got into the wagon.”

 

     Nick smiled in an almost patronizing manner.  “Well now, Jeb, I know how that snake got into the wagon, too.”

 

     “You do?”

 

     “Sure.  The same way any snake makes its way into a wagon.  It slithered in at some point when Heath was stopped for a while.”

 

     “No, sir.  No, it didn’t.”

 

     “What do you mean no it didn’t?”

     “Lyndall...Lyndall Barrett put it there Tuesday after Heath had loaded the wagon and come in the house here to get his gear.”

 

     Nick’s disbelief was plain to hear.  “Lyndall put it there?”

 

     “Yeah.  He...I swear Lyndall’s brain is addled sometimes.  He...well he has this...this thing for snakes and other critters most people would have the good sense to stay clear of.”

 

     “And what’s that got to do with Heath?”  Jarrod asked.

 

     Jeb shifted on the couch so he could see both Barkley brothers.  “Lyndall’s hated Heath since the day he came here.”

 

     “Why?”  Nick asked.

 

     “Lyndall thought you were groomin’ him to be your right hand man once Phillip retires.  But now he thinks Heath is gonna take that spot away from him.  Plus...well..I guess you could say he’s prejudice.”

 

     “Prejudice?”

 

     “About Heath’s situation.  You know, about the fact that your ma ain’t Heath’s ma.  It makes Lyndall mad that you let him live in the house here with ya’all and that ya’all call him brother.”

 

     “What business is that of Lyndall’s?”

     “I don’t know, Nick.  It just sticks in his craw for some reason.”

 

     Nick stood and crossed his arms over his chest.  Jeb could feel the sweat spurting from every pore in his body while Nick simply stared down at him with his mouth set in a grim line.

 

     “Maybe you’d better start at the beginning, boy.  I’m a little curious as to how you’ve come by your information.”

 

     “Yes...yes, sir.  I...see it’s like this. I was with Lyndall on Monday night when he caught the snake.  Only I didn’t know then what he was gonna do with it.  I thought it was weird when he cut off its rattles, but then I thought he was crazy as a loon to be messin’ with the thing in the first place so I just stayed about fifty paces behind him and didn’t ask no questions.  To tell you the truth I didn’t even know he kept it.  I saw him put it in the gunnysack that night, but I left him to his fun and went back to the bunkhouse.  By the time he came in a few hours later I figured he’d let the snake go.  But then on Tuesday morning he was tellin’ me how he still had the snake, and how one way or another he was gonna turn it loose on Heath.  I didn’t believe him when he said that.  Honest I didn’t.  I figured he was just big talkin’ like he does when he wants to brag on himself to us younger guys.

 

     “So anyway, me and Lyndall was up in the hay mow when Heath rode in on Charger Tuesday afternoon.  Lyndall signaled for me to keep quiet.  Then he watched Heath load the wagon without Heath ever knowin’ we were in the barn with him.  When Heath left to come in the house Lyndall scampered down the ladder like his pants was on fire.  I didn’t pay no mind to where he was goin’.  I knew we had work to do so I went back to stacking that hay.  It wasn’t till after Heath was gone that Lyndall started laughing like his mind was half gone.  You know, real goofy like.  When I asked him what was so funny he said he’d put the bag with the snake in the back of Heath’s wagon.  I really laid into him then.  I told him that what he’d done was real stupid and that Heath could die if that snake bit him.  He just shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘Aw shucks, Jeb, the bag was tied with twine.  That little ole snake ain’t gonna get out unless Heath gets curious and opens it.  And even if he does open it the snake will just give him a good scare is all.  He’ll jump back outta the way long before it can ever git to him.’ ”

 

     “And you believed that?”  Jarrod asked.

 

     “No.”  Jeb dropped his eyes to the floor in shame.  “No...I guess I didn’t.  Or at least it worried me somethin’ fierce wondering what would happen if that snake did bite Heath.”

 

     “So you were worried,” Nick said, “but you didn’t bother to tell anyone what Barrett had done.”

     It took every ounce of Jeb’s will to meet Nick Barkley’s gaze. “No, sir.  No, sir, I didn’t.  And you don’t know how sorry I am about that fact either.”

 

     “Well sorry just doesn’t cut it, boy!  That snake damn near bit my mother!  If Heath hadn’t seen it and knocked her out of the way it would have.  Now do you for one minute think a tiny woman like Mrs. Barkley would have survived a rattlesnake’s bite?”

     “No...no, sir.”  Jeb whispered, suddenly unable to find his voice.  “No, I don’t reckon she would have.”

 

     “You’re double damn right she wouldn’t have!  And it’s only by the grace of God and the fact that my mother and I were right there to help Heath that he survived it!  If he would have been alone when it happened I guarantee you I’d be digging a hole next to my father’s grave as we speak.”

 

     “Yes, sir.  I know that, sir.”

 

     Nick swiveled on one heel and paced back and forth in front of the fireplace.  Jarrod took over the conversation, allowing Nick time to cool down.

 

     “Jeb, do you realize that you could be charged as an accessory to attempted murder?”

 

     “I didn’t know the fancy term for it, but yes, sir, I know...I know I’m in a peck of trouble ‘cause I didn’t tell anyone what Lyndall did.”

 

     “Then why did you decide to come forward now?”

 

     “Because...because what Lyndall did was wrong.  Dead wrong.  And I...well I know you got no call to believe me when I say this considerin’ what I did and all, but I’m not that kind of man.  I don’t...I’d never hurt anyone.  Honest I wouldn’t.  I like Heath.  I truly do.  He’s a good boss.  I got a lotta respect for him even though some of the others...well some of the others don’t feel that way.”

 

     Nick stopped his pacing and turned.  “Some of the others don’t feel that way because they’ve given Heath a fair chance and honestly dislike him?  Or they feel that way because they’re afraid to tell Barrett to shut his mouth and go to hell?”

 

     “I’d have to say the last, Nick.  Or at least I’d bet money on the fact that if Barrett was gone the men who have been givin’ Heath a hard time will put an end to their fun.”

 

     “So you think Barrett’s the ring leader in all this, is that it?”

 

     “I don’t think it, I know it.”

 

     “I see.”  Two minutes ticked off the Grandfather clock in the foyer before Nick spoke again. “ Jeb, for now I want you to go back to work and not breathe a word of your talk with me and Jarrod to anyone.”

 

     “No, sir, I won’t.  But...” Jeb looked at Jarrod.  “But when the sheriff comes to arrest me can I...well I will be able to write a letter to my folks, won’t I?  To let them know I’m in jail?”

     Jarrod looked to Nick for the answer to that question while trying not to smile.

 

     Nick stroked his fingers over his chin, seemingly lost in deep thought.  “A letter you say?  Well, yes, I suppose Jarrod can arrange that.  But now on the other hand, Jeb,  Jarrod and I aren’t really the men who should be making a decision regarding your future in this particular situation.”

     “Sir?”

 

     “You see Heath and I are partners in running the ranch so normally I’d say he and I would both have to be in agreement before a final decision is made on any issue.  But in this case I’d have to say it’s completely up to Heath whether or not you spend some time in jail, or are asked to pack up your things and leave the ranch, or are told you can stay.”

 

     “Stay?”

     Nick shrugged.  “Now don’t you tell Heath I said this ‘cause he’ll get ornery as an old bear if you do, but he’s a real soft hearted kinda guy.  Oh, he can be moodier than Audra when he puts a mind to it, and he can be stubborn as a mule and tough as that rattlesnake that bit him, but he doesn’t like to see anyone on the receiving end of a bad time if he thinks they can turn themselves around and change for the better.   So if you can be a man the next time someone like Lyndall Barrett wants you to do things you know are wrong, if you can look a guy like him right in the eye and stand up for what you believe in regardless of what he says, then I think Heath just might tell you that we still have a place for you on the Barkley ranch.”

 

     “Really, Nick?”  The boy’s eyes lit up with relief.  “You really think that?”

 

     “I do.  Of course you’re going to have to gather your courage and tell this story to Heath face to face.  I’m not going to do it for you.”

 

     “No, no.  I don’t expect you to.  This is something...well I know it’s something I gotta do myself no matter what Heath decides.  Can I see him now?”

 

     Nick smiled at the young man’s enthusiasm.  “No, not right now. Like I said earlier, he’s sleeping.  I’ll tell you what though. Doctor Merar will be coming out to check on my brother sometime tomorrow.  Before he leaves I’ll ask him when he thinks Heath can have visitors.  After I find that out I’ll let you know.”

 

     Jeb stood and held out his hand to his boss. “Thanks, Nick.  Thanks a lot.  I...well I surely appreciate what you’re doin’ for me.”

 

     “I’m not doing anything.  The doing will be up to Heath.”

 

     “I know, but facin’ Heath won’t have my heart in my throat nearly in the same way facing you did.”

 

     Nick did his best to look stern when he cocked an eyebrow and said,  “Oh, really?”

 

     Jeb decided he’d better get while the getting was good.  He turned and shook hands with Jarrod.  “Mr. Barkley, thank you.”

 

     “You’re welcome, Jeb.  And I don’t want to ever see you in here again seeking legal advice.  Is that understood?”

 

     “Yes, sir.  Very much so, sir.”

 

     “All right then, you be on your way.”

 

     “Yes, sir.”

 

     Before Jeb reached the study doors Nick hailed him.  “Jeb?”

     “Yeah?”

 

     “Don’t forget, mum’s the word.  Don’t tell anyone that you came to see me.  And no matter what happens you keep your eyes to the ground.”

 

     “Yes, sir.”

 

     After the study doors shut behind the young man Jarrod turned to his brother.

 

     “No matter what happens?”

     “Pappy, I’ve suddenly got me a hankerin’ to have a real private-like meeting with Lyndall Barrett.”

 

     “What about this equal partnership you’ve suddenly formed with Heath that you mentioned to Jeb?  Don’t you think you should discuss your plans with him first?”

 

     “Nope.  For one last night Nick Barkley runs the Barkley Ranch alone.  Tomorrow is a new day, and when it dawns Nick and Heath Barkley run the Barkley Ranch together.  But tonight...well tonight there’s something I have to do for myself...and do for my little brother.”

 

     Nick was surprised when Jarrod did nothing more than nod and smile. 

 

     “As much as I’m loath to admit this, Nicholas, sometimes I do admire your brand of justice.  Provided, of course, it doesn’t land you in a jail cell.”

 

     “Oh now, Pappy, do you really think I’d be that foolish?”

 

     Jarrod laughed while deciding that was one question he’d rather not answer.  He put an arm around Nick’s shoulders.

 

“Come on.  Let’s go look in on your new partner.  I imagine Audra would like one of us to take over for her.”

 

     Nick made no objection to that.  But then a little quiet time sitting beside his sleeping brother was just what Nick needed.  After all, he’d learned a long time ago he did his best plotting when the distractions were at a minimum.

    

 

      BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

        

            

    

    

     Laughter and voices raised in full volume reached Nick’s ears long before he opened the bunkhouse door.  Darkness had fallen an hour earlier.  Kerosene lamps lit the interior of the wooden building.  Nick acknowledged the greetings that came his way, then crooked a finger at Barrett.

 

     “Lyndall, deal yourself out of that hand, would ya’?  I need to talk to you for a couple minutes over in the barn.”

     “Sure thing, Nick.”

 

     Nick waited while Lyndall played his last hand of poker.  Jeb Galloway sat at another table engrossed in a game of checkers.  He didn’t look up at Nick, nor did Nick attempt to make eye contact with him.

 

     Lyndall was all smiles as he fell into step beside his boss.  “What can I do for you, Nick?”

     “There’s something I need to get your opinion on. Just follow me.”

 

     “Okay. Oh, and hey, how’s Heath doin’?”

     “Fine.  He’d doing fine.  Doc says he needs to rest for a week or so, but he’s gonna pull through without a hitch.”

 

     “Boy, I sure am glad to hear that.  I was real concerned when Phillip told us what happened to him.”

 

     Nick smiled at the man.  “I’m sure you were.”

 

     Lyndall followed Nick into the dark barn.  He strained to see ahead of him, keeping his eyes focused on Nick’s back. 

 

     “Hey, Nick, you want me to get us some light in here?”

 

     “No, no.  That’s not necessary.  We don’t need any light for what we have to do.”

 

     Nick led the way down the long aisle.  The barn was quiet at this time of night other than the occasional swish of a horse’s tail and Coco nosing his feed pan. 

 

     Nick opened a door to a separate room that contained

two empty stalls.  This was where the Barkleys kept injured or quarantined animals when the need arose.

 

     Lyndall’s mind raced with eager anticipation.  

 

I bet Nick has got a sick horse he wants my opinion on.  It’s about time I get to prove to him I’m just the man he needs to help him run this place when Phillip retires.  That bastard Heath is just a waste of everyone’s time.  One way or another I’ll make Nick see that yet.

 

     Barrett turned when Nick shut the door behind them.  Now it was so dark he could barely see his hand in front of his face.  “Nick, I know you said we didn’t need any light but--”

 

     Before the man could finish his sentence he was grabbed from behind. 

 

     “What the....hey!  Let me go!  Nick!  Hey!   What’s goin’ on?  Let me...what the hell are you doing?”

     Two pairs of beefy-callused hands tied the struggling man to a thick wooden support beam.  Lyndall tried to get a look at his assailants’ faces but the beam hampered his view.  He had no idea if there were other men who were tying up Nick as well, or if Nick had managed to escape. 

 

     Lyndall’s hands and elbows were yanked together behind the post.   He cried out, certain he was about to be split in half when his shoulder blades were thrust around the beam until his chest was forced to stand at attention.  His assailants worked quickly and silently like a well-rehearsed team. The horsehair rope drew blood as it bit into Lyndall’s flesh.  It was wrapped around his wrists and forearms in the same fashion a cowboy uses to secure a downed calf.   Barrett cursed and kicked, bucked and arched, but wasn’t able to free himself.  His struggles gave way to confusion when he heard Nick say, “Thanks, fellas.  You can go now.”

 

     Lyndall craned his head.  He caught a glimpse of his assailants’ backs as they headed out the side door.  The man wearing the wide brimmed cowboy hat might have been Phillip Mattson, but it was too dark for Lyndall to be certain.  The other man was tall and lanky, approaching six and a half feet in height.  Based on that Lyndall was fairly certain he was a wrangler by the name of Ed Kason.  Eddie was another old-timer like Phillip who had been among the first employees hired by Nick’s father over twenty years ago.

 

     Barrett tried his best to smile into the darkness.  “Come on, Nick.  What’s goin’ on? Is this some kinda initiation or something?”

 

     “No.  I’d say it’s more like an inquest.”

     “Inquest?”

     “Yep.”  Nick moved to stand in front of Lyndall.  “That’s a fancy word I learned from my brother Jarrod that means inquiry.  You know, questions, answers, stuff like that.  Of course now generally speaking an inquest includes a judge and a jury, but on the Barkley ranch I serve as both of those.  And, generally speaking, a defendant such as yourself is usually entitled to a lawyer, but because I’m the judge I’ve overruled that.”

 

     “Nick...Nick, I don’t know what you’re up to, but this isn’t funny anymore.”

 

     “No, Lyndall, I guess it’s not.”  Nick turned and slipped his hand into a covered bucket.  “But then I don’t suppose Heath thought it was too funny when he got bit by that snake last night either.  What about you?  Do you think Heath found that amusing?”

     Lyndall’s heart sped up at this line of questioning.

 

     “Well...no.  No, I don’t reckon he did.  But I already told you I was glad to hear he’s okay.”

     “Yeah, I just bet you are.”

 

     “I am, Nick.  I really. . .”

 

     Lyndall’s sentence trailed off in a choked gasp when he heard the sound.  It came closer; the shaking of the rattles indicating the reptile was sensing an enemy.

 

     “Nick...Nick, what...ah!”

 

     The snake slithered across Lyndall’s shoulders.  The rattles sounded loud and long next to his left ear.  The man’s heart rammed against his chest in an attempt to flee his body and his legs started shaking like a fourteen year old virgin’s on her wedding night.

 

     Lyndall couldn’t help but cry out when the snake’s tongue flicked against his cheek.  He cried out once more when Nick’s fingers did the same against the lobe of his ear.

 

     “What’s the matter, Lyndall?  Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little old rattlesnake?”

     “Nick...” Lyndall whispered,  “Nick...please.”

 

     “Please what?”

 

     “Please...please get it off me.”

     The rattles sounded again as the snake slithered down one arm and back up again.

 

     “Get what off you?”  Nick asked at full volume.  Lyndall prayed the man would lower his voice.  All he needed now was for Nick Barkley’s booming baritone to get the snake riled.

 

     “The snake,” Lyndall muttered, hardly daring to move his mouth.  “Get the snake off me.”

 

     “Oh, no.  Not just yet.  Remember I said we were going to hold an inquest.”

 

     “Nick...”

 

     The snake poked its nose into the open collar of Lyndall’s shirt, its tail rattling an angry warning.  

 

     “Now, Mr. Barrett, for the record, how did the snake that bit my brother Heath come to be in his wagon?”

 

     Lyndall stood stiff and still, his only movement was the ever-increasing way his eyes widened in fear.  “I don’t...I don’t know. Please, Nick.  Please.” 

 

     The snake’s body began a slow decent inside Lyndall’s shirt. 

 

     “I’d advise you to think a little harder, Mr. Barrett, unless you enjoy the feeling of my little friend there tickling your belly.  Now how did the snake that bit Heath come to be in his wagon?”

 

     “I don’t...I...I...Nick...Nick!”

 

     The snake fought to squeeze itself into the waistband of Lyndall’s jeans.  The rattles vibrated as it worked its way beneath his belt.

 

     “Lyndall, you’re not answering my questions.”

 

     “I...Nick, I didn’t have anything to do with...”

 

     Lyndall felt the snake enter his pants.

 

“Nick...please...I...”

    

Barrett thought he’d faint for certain when the snake slid over his crotch.  It stopped there for just a moment and Nick laughed.  Barrett wondered how his boss could even tell where the damn thing was considering how dark the room was, but somehow Nick knew.

 

     “Now that would be an interesting place to end up with a snake bite, wouldn’t you say, old pal?”

     “Nick...”

 

     “Lyndall, you beg like woman, you know that?  Heath didn’t beg.  He didn’t so much as whimper.  But I can’t say the same for you now, can I?  Not that I’m surprised you understand.  You don’t even come close to being half the man my brother is.”

 

     “Nick...” Sweat soaked the underarms of Lyndall’s shirt when the snake traveled downward and wrapped itself around his right leg as though it intended to stay there for a good long while.

 

     “You can end it all by telling me the truth, Barrett.  I just want the truth.”

 

     For just a moment Lyndall Barrett pondered his choices.  But then the snake’s tongue flicked against his kneecap.  And then its nose nudged his thigh.  And then it slithered back to the region every male holds dear.  And then he felt its mouth engulfing his testicles. And then the rattles sounded loud and long.  And then Lyndall wet his pants.

 

     “Okay, okay, I did it!  I put the snake in the wagon!”

 

     That was all Nick needed to hear.  He crossed in front of Barrett, balled a fist, and hit the man square in the stomach.  The snake flew from Lyndall’s pants as the beating continued.  When the cowboy was finally untied he was battered and bruised, the crotch of his pants wet and cold, and he was crying like a five year old who wanted his mama.

 

     Nick stood over Lyndall, the disdain in his voice easy to hear.

 

     “You’re not such a big man now, are you, tough guy?  Get to your feet, pack up your gear, and get off this ranch.  If I ever lay eyes on you again what happened in here tonight will seem like a day at the circus.  You come within two hundred miles of Heath and you and I will be having another meeting.  You got it?”

 

     When Lyndall didn’t answer him Nick rammed the toe of one boot into the man’s ribs.  “Barrett, I asked you a question.”

 

     “Yeah,” Lyndall moaned while rolling to his knees. “Yeah.  Yeah...I got it.”

 

     Nick leaned over and grabbed the man under one arm.

 

“Come on then.  Get moving.”

 

     The other men stared wide-eyed when the disheveled Barrett was flung in the bunkhouse.  No one missed the split lip he was sporting, or the tears on his cheeks, or the wet stain in the center of his pants.  The humiliated cowboy wasted no time gathering his things.  Fifteen minutes later he was riding out the front gates. When he was gone Nick looked to the cowhand standing closest to him.

 

     “Mike, rouse the men from the other bunkhouses and get Phillip, too.  I want everyone to hear what I have to say.”

 

     “Sure thing, Nick.”

 

     In ten minutes time Nick was surrounded by every hired hand the Barkleys employed.  He stood in the doorway of the bunkhouse so those inside and out could hear him.

 

     “Men, Lyndall Barrett is no longer employed on this ranch.  The reason he no longer has a job here is because the snake that bit my brother Heath was put in the wagon bed by Barrett.  It makes no difference to me why Barrett pulled that kinda stunt, what matters is he did it period.  If my brother had died last night I guarantee you Lyndall wouldn’t have left this ranch in anything other than a pine box.  Now I can’t make any of you accept Heath as boss. All I can do is ask that you give him a chance.  If you do, I know you’ll find he’s worthy of the same amount of respect and friendship each one of you gives me. If you have no intention of giving him the opportunity to show you what he’s made of then pack your stuff and go right now.  There’s no place for you on the Barkley Ranch any longer.”

 

     Eyes flicked left and right.  Everyone was curious to see who might break ranks.  Finally one man did, followed by two others.  That didn’t surprise Nick.  The first man was Lyndall’s cousin, the remaining two were friends of Lyndall’s who had been hired on with him. 

 

     Nick looked at the rest of the group.  “Anyone else?”

 

     Heads shook back and forth and the man heard, “No, Nick,” voiced from a variety of directions.

 

     “All right then.  Thank you.  I’ll see all of you in the morning.”

 

     Nick headed toward the barn.  He knew better than to ever tell Heath what he had done tonight in regards to his talk with the men, but that didn’t mean he regretted it.  As a matter of fact Nick now realized he should have given that speech months ago.

 

     The cowboy stopped just inside the barn.  He pulled a match from his pocket, struck it against the wall, then lit a kerosene lantern.  He took the lantern off its hook and carried it with him.  When he came to the back room where Lyndall had been tied he circled the area.  He smiled when he spotted the snake curled up in a far corner.  Without the slightest bit of caution Nick picked the reptile up.

 

     “Thanks, fella. You don’t know what a help you’ve been.”

 

     Nick walked out the side door and bent down.  He released the snake, watching as it slithered off towards freedom.

 

     The man chuckled as he returned the lamp to its peg in the barn.  He blew out the flame, then headed for the house. He reached in his pocket and retrieved the small wooden rattle he’d dug out of the chest in the nursery.  He couldn’t remember now if the toy had belonged to Audra or Eugene.  No matter, it had served its purpose.  Nick gave the rattle a little shake while thinking of the harmless bull snake he’d just released. 

 

     Jarrod was sitting in the parlor when Nick entered the house.  The lawyer’s eyes tracked his brother’s movements through the foyer. Nick stopped in front of the brandy decanter and poured himself a drink.

 

     “So, Brother Nick, is it safe to ask why you’re wearing that self-satisfied grin while at the same time carrying around a baby’s rattle, or am I better off not to know?”

 

     Nick glanced down at the toy before returning his attention to his sibling.  “Let’s just say that tonight I learned necessity is truly the mother of invention, Pappy, and leave it at that.  And speaking of mothers, where’s ours?”

     “She and Audra are upstairs fussing over Heath.  The last time I looked in there one was aiming a fork toward his mouth while the other one was combing his hair.”

 

     Nick grinned.  “And I bet his face was redder than a ripe tomato.”

 

     “Nicholas, you haven’t seen red until you get a glimpse of that poor man.”

 

     Nick set his glass down.  He patted Jarrod’s arm as he passed and grabbed a deck of cards off the mantel.  “Come on, Paps, let’s go chase those women outta there and engage Heath in a game of cards.”

     Jarrod stood and fell in step beside his brother.

 

     “Cards?  I thought you swore you’d never play cards with Heath again after the last time you lost ten dollars to him.”

 

     “Heck, Jarrod, the man’s sick.  As a matter of fact he’s probably ready to go nighty night right about now.  The way I figure it this is my chance to win some of that money back.”

     “Oh you think so, huh?”

 

     Nick stopped halfway up the stairs. He gave one shoulder a tight shrug.  “I just...the card game doesn’t matter one way or another, you know.  I just want to be with him for a while.  Last night...damn, Jarrod, I was sure he was gonna die before we ever got him back here.  I didn’t realize...well...I guess for as angry as he can make me sometimes, there’s no doubt he’s our father’s son.  And no doubt he’s our brother.”

 

     “And your friend?”

     “I...yeah,” Nick nodded, while looking down at the rattle he still carried.  “I don’t guess there’s any doubt about that either.  Or at least not any longer.”

 

     Jarrod simply smiled while putting an arm around Nick’s shoulders.   “Let’s get a move on then.  I think it’s high time we rescued your friend from the ladies of the house.”

 

     My friend, Nick thought as he and Jarrod headed for Heath’s room.  I like the sounds of that.  I like the sounds of that...and so would Father.   

 

 

      BV    BV    BV    BV    BV    BV

 

    

              

 

Three Months Later  

            

 

     Victoria sat on Misty Girl observing Heath from afar.  She thought back to the night he’d been bitten by the snake and all that had come to pass since that time.

 

     Jeb Galloway was still employed on the Barkley ranch.  Like Nick had told the nineteen year old, Heath had a soft heart.  Perhaps better than many men, Heath understood the foolish choices a teenager can make.  He harbored no ill will against Jeb, and now they worked side by side with an easy camaraderie that wouldn’t have occurred had Lyndall Barrett still been present.

 

     Heath had begun to form friendships with some of the other hired hands as well.  Victoria wasn’t so foolish as to think that every man on the ranch liked Heath any more than every man liked Nick, but as long as they respected him as their boss and as an owner equal to any other member of the family, that was all she could ask for.

 

     Whatever tensions had still existed between Heath and Audra as a result of the words they’d exchanged the night of the party evaporated during Heath’s recuperation.  Victoria would often come upon Audra sitting at Heath’s bedside reading to him or playing checkers with him.  It warmed the woman’s heart to see them forming a relationship that was slightly different than any Audra shared with her other three brothers.   Maybe their personalities so easily meshed because they both had such gentle spirits.  Or maybe it was because they both liked to play any type of game from checkers, to cards, to dominos.  Or maybe it was because they, of all Tom’s children, were the two who resembled the Barkley side of the family and therefore each other.  Or maybe their new formed bond was just part of God’s overall plan to help Heath feel like a cherished member of his new family.

 

     Victoria watched now as Heath finished pulling the weeds, then rose. He stood staring down at the stone.  He didn’t turn when Charger whinnied to Misty Girl, nor when he heard the soft approach of Victoria’s boots.

 

     The woman joined Heath at her husband’s graveside.  She slipped an arm around his waist and was comforted by the one he immediately rested on her shoulders.  She looked up into his face.

 

     “Is this the first time you’ve been here?”

 

     “Other than the day last January when Audra took her whip to me, yes.”

 

     This news didn’t surprise Victoria.  No doubt there were many things Heath needed to be assured of before he could begin the process of getting to know his father.  Recently, a good number of those things had come to light.

 

     A month earlier Victoria had snuck out of the town where Tom’s memory was being honored with a statue and headed for Strawberry.  The journey hadn’t been without its trials, but in the end Victoria had come away with the answers she’d promised Heath the night he’d laid in her arms crying and wondering why his father hated him.

 

     As Victoria told Heath then, Tom Barkley was incapable of hating any of his children.  How could he hate a child he never knew existed?  Though Victoria’s heart mourned for this young man who had grown up without the influence of a father, at least the letter Hannah had given her brought both Heath and Victoria a measure of peace.  Tom Barkley was a man who had made an error in judgment.  He wasn’t perfect, he wasn’t a saint, and his wife was certain he carried the regrets of his actions with Leah Thomson to his grave.

 

     Victoria broke the silence she and her son had fallen into. 

 

     “It helps, doesn’t it, Heath?  Knowing what we found out after my visit to Strawberry?”

 

     “Yes, Mother.  It helps.”

 

     Victoria looked at her husband’s headstone.  “Have you forgiven him?”

 

     “I...I’m trying.  I...I guess this is my first step toward doing that.  It’s just...sometimes it’s difficult to put my childhood behind me.  Now that I live with you, and I hear stories Audra, or Nick, or Jarrod tell about when they were growing up, I think about what might have been and I...I ache for what I missed out on.”

 

     “I know, honey, I know.  But the hurt will ease if you give it enough time.  Not even a year has passed yet since you came to us.  So many things have changed for you.  So many discoveries have been made.  Allow yourself time to absorb all you’ve come to learn since your mother’s death.”

 

     Heath smiled down at the tiny woman.  “How’d you get so smart?”

 

     “Years of living.  I’m an old woman don’t you know.”

 

     “You’re not that old.”

 

     “Old enough to be your mother.”

 

     Heath pulled Victoria to him and rested his cheek on the top of her head.  “Now that I won’t argue with.”

 

     “Me being your mother?”

 

     “Yes.”

     “That’s good to hear because it’s an argument you wouldn’t win anyway.”

     “Boy howdy, don’t I know it.”

 

     Victoria laughed.  She stepped away from her son, bent and pulled a final weed, then walked toward Misty Girl.

 

     “You coming with me, cowboy?”

 

     “Where you goin’?”

 

     “To that place you call home.”

 

     Heath smiled again.  He walked to Charger and swung up on the horse’s back.  “Yep, I’m comin’ with you.  Right off the top of my head I can’t think of one place I’d rather be.”

 

     “Right off the top of my head, I can’t think of one place I’d rather you be.  And I can’t fathom that I ever will.”

 

     Side by side, like a mother and her son, Victoria and Heath rode together toward home.

    

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

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