“ Nick stop pacing or you’ll wear a hole in the floor.”

Nick crossed his arms on his chest to keep his hands from trembling. “ God Jarrod, what if we’re too late? He was in that sweat box a long time.”

“He was conscious when we brought him in. The doctor says it’s a good sign.”

“Awake, sure, but did you hear him talk? He didn’t make any sense.”

“He was confused, that’s understandable.”

Finally, the doctor drew the curtains and came out of the examining room. Both brothers sprung to their feet. “Doctor, how’s our brother?” Nick asked in a voice bordering on terror.

The doctor fashioned a reassuring smile and put his hand on the disquiet man’s shoulder. Then with a slight tilt of the head, he motioned to the examining room and said, “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Nick’s brow raised in a question mark before he and Jarrod made their way to the room. Heath was sitting on the table with his leg swathed in bandages, fumbling with his shirt buttons. “Heath!”

“Hey Nick! Ya’ awright?”

“That’s my question, Little Brother.”

“As ya’ can see, I’m fine.” Heath hopped down the table and took hold of a cane. “The doc here says I might need this stick for awhile.”

“That’s right,” the doctor chimed in, casting a warning glance that spoke volume. ”Make sure he stays off that leg for a good week. I’ll wire your doctor in Stockton to have him change the bandages daily.”

“We’ll keep a close watch on him,” Nick assured with a voice inflection that sent Heath’s hair to stand on end. He’d heard that all too familiar don’t-mess-with-me tone before that usually meant business.

“When can we take him home?” Jarrod asked while he slid his arm underneath his lame brother’s shoulder to ease the weight off his burnt leg.

“How’bout right now?” Heath jumped in before the doctor could voice his thought that he was positive would counter his.

“ It’s the middle of the night, young fella. I suggest you all get a few hours of sleep before you take on your journey back home,” the doctor suggested, much to Heath’s dismay.

“Thank ya, Doctor.” As Nick shook his hand, he noted a troubled look in his eyes, one that he tried to conceal behind a strained smile.

“Come on, Brother Heath. Let’s go catch us some shut eyes at the hotel.” Jarrod assisted Heath out of the examining room while Nick kept staring at the doctor, hoping to decipher the meaning behind that disturbing expression. “Nick, are you coming?”

“Yeah, yeah, in a minute. You go on ahead. I’ll be right there. Just want to ask the doctor sum’thin’.”

Once Jarrod and Heath were out the door, Nick turned to the doctor with his brow knitted with worry. “Doc, there’s sum’thin’ you’re nut telling us.”

The doctor hung his head to his chest and heaved a rueful sign. He stared back at Nick and asked, “Have you ever been locked in one of those iron boxes?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Consider yourself fortunate my dear friend. I wouldn’t wish this torture on my worse enemy.”

Nick’s eyes squinted in greater confusion as he edged up to the doctor. “What exactly are ya trying to say?”

“I’ve treated men who spent time in that hellish contraption. Although their physical wounds healed within weeks, the psychological repercussions were devastating, driving most insane and ending with them taking their own lives.” Seeing Nick’s eyes widening in alarm, the doctor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and advised him to keep close watch on his brother, taking heed to avoid unnecessary squabbles. May have conflicts of interest just as long as they didn’t let them degenerate into brawls. Avoid situations that could be construed as reminders of his horrifying ordeal and most importantly, make him feel understood and protected.

“Thanks for bein’ a straight-shooter, Doc.”

“You seemed like the man who could stomach it. Besides you appear to be a close-knit family. With that caring and compassion, I have no doubt that young man will be numbered among the few survivors.”

“Ya can count on that. Thanks again, Doctor.” Nick clasped the doctor’s hand in a heartfelt handshake and left for the hotel.

After asking the clerk which rooms Jarrod had rented, Nick floated upstairs and knocked on the first one. Jarrod walked up to the door and opened it. “Everything okay, Nick?”

“Yeah, just fine. Is Heath is the next room?”

“No, he’s down the hall, taking a bath.”

“Ah.”

Jarrod frowned with concern at Nick’s edginess and tilted his head sideways to read his distressed brother’s eyes. “You’re sure everything’s all right?”

“Yeah,” Nick replied with a strained confidence that failed to convince Jarrod.

“You learn something else from Dr. Vales, didn’t you?” Jarrod probed further.

“Only that we must reined back our tempers whenever we’re ‘round Heath, try not to upset him or shove him into situations where he might feel cornered.”

“Because of what happened?”

“Right. But I’m not worried about Heath. That boy’s been through hell more times than we have heads of cattle.” Nick let out a sharp sigh as a way to convince himself. “He’ll be alright.”

“You don’t sound very convincing, Brother Nick.”

“I know.” Nick folded his arms at his chest as a hallow feeling crept over him. “You weren’t there, Jarrod. They whipped him and dragged him into that sweatbox under the blazing hot sun, with no water and tiny holes for air. When I opened it and Heath slumped into my arms, I…” Nick’s voice faltered as he swallowed a growing lump in his throat. The memory still made him writhe in disgust.

A wave of nausea washed over Jarrod at the mere thought of the torture his brothers were subjected to. He wrapped a consoling arm around Nick’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Nick. You don’t have to relive it. It’s over.”

“He’ll be all right.”

“Sure he will. We’ll all stick behind him, ready to scoop him up if he should fall. I have no doubt you’ll be the first one in line.”

Jarrod took the first room while Nick and Heath shared the adjoining one. Nick insisted Heath lie down, convincing him that he felt more comfortable sleeping in an armchair. Heath knew Nick was lying through his teeth but was nevertheless grateful for the soft mattress, which was a soothing change from the prison cot. Heath was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, much to Nick’s peace of mind. Spawled in his chair, he slowly drifted off.

Barely an hour had elapsed that Nick jolted out of sleep. Rizely’s devilish grin was just too raw a memory to have buried into the deep recesses of his subconscious. It was still dangling on his conscious mind, knowing it would take a while before he could shove it into the dark abyss of his soul. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers and tried to catch to breath. He glanced at his brother, sleeping soundly. The impact of his nightmare waned at the thought of Heath enjoying quietude. Nick stood from his chair and stretched his racked body as he padded up to his brother’s bed. He gazed at Heath, thanking the Lord for sparing his young life. As he bent down to pull the covers up to the blond sibling’s chin, Heath swifly grasped his wrist and gouged his fingernails into his skin, causing Nick to yelp in pain. The moonlight streaming through the window that was mirrored in his brother’s terrorized eyes sent chills down Nick’s spine. His stiffened body was racked with tremors.

Nick sat on the edge of the bed, wincing in pain at his brother’s vice-like grip. “Heath, it’s me, Nick. Nobody’s going to hurt you, Heath. Let go of my arm. You have nothing to be afraid of. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please, get me out, Nick,” Heath begged with every fibre of his being as his grip tightened around Nick’s wrist.

“You’re out, Heath.”

“ I’m dyin’, Nick. So hot,” Heath wailed in a strangled cry with a breathing that grew labored.

“No, you’re not.” Nick gave Heath a few slaps on the cheeks to snap him out of his delirium. “Come on Heath, wake up!”

Heath statled out of his nightmare and focused on Nick’s shadowy figure sitting by him. “Nick?”

“Yeah.”

Heath loosened his grip on Nick’s arm as his eyes roved around the room “Where?”

“In a hotel room. You remember?” Nick asked while he rubbed his bruised wrist.

“Yeah,” Heath breathed out as he slowly regained his memory. “I thought I was back in that box. Sorry to’ve wake ya.”

“You didn’t. Rizely’s sneer did.”

“You too?”

Nick nodded. “I reckon it might take awhile to squash his face out of my mind.”

“Believe me Nick, it’ll haunt ya all your life. Ya think the images are gone for good when they spurt out with a vengence when least expected.”

“Try to get back to sleep. Still got two more hours to go before dawn,” Nick said, patting Heath on the shoulder.

Nick found it hard to doze off after that frightening episode, contrary to Heath who fell like a log. Instead of idling the time away by staring at the ceiling, Nick decided to go down the hall to take a warm bath to soothe his aching muscles. Barely an hour later, Heath roused. He stretched himself and rubbed the haze from his eyes before sitting up. “Nick?” he called out in a yawn, searching the room for his brother. He shrugged off his absence, which in all evidence was due to nature’s call, and slouched to the dresser to splash water onto his haggard face. He slipped on his pants and buckled his belt. He reached for his shirt draped over the back of a chair just as Nick returned.

“Hey Nick, where ya’ve been?”

“Took a bath. My body ached all over.”

“Should’ve taken the bed.”

“Maybe next time.”

“Ready to go?”

“Hold your horses, there Little Brother. How’bout you, me and Jarrod get some breakfast first?”

“Daylight’s wastin’, Nick. If we leave now, we can be at the ranch by mid afternoon.”

“I think we can afford to take an hour off to get sumpthin’ to eat.”

“Awright, ya go eat. I’ll go on ahead and ya and Jarrod can catch up,” Heath suggested peevishly.

“Hold on there, Heath! We leave together,” Nick said authoritatively.

“I don’t need a baby-sitter. I can ride by myself.”

Nick grew concerned at Heath’s irrational behavior. He was ready to put his foot down when he suddenly recalled the doctor’s warning about provoking Heath on trivial subjects. “Awright, you win. We’ll go back. I kind of wanna get away from this town myself. Just gimme time to tell Jarrod and grab a couple of packs of beef jerk at the general store and we’ll be on our way, okay?” Nick mollified, putting a soothing hand on Heath’s shoulder.

Heath heaved out a dry sigh and recomposed himself. “Awright.”

“You won’t run out on me, now will ya?”

Heath gave a half-hearted smile. “Course not.”

Nick knocked Heath playfully under the chin and left the room. He lumbered downstairs to the dining room to speak with Jarrod regarding the change of plans. Nick exposed the situation to his confused brother that it was probably best to hit the trail now in order to alleviate Heath’s angst. “Jarrod ya should’ve seen the look in his eyes when I suggested we have breakfast before heading out. This place gives him the creeps and I have to admit it does me too.”

“Fine if that’s what you both want. Let me just pay the hotel bill and we’ll be on our way.”

“I’ll go grab some beef jerk at the general store and I’ll meet ya and Heath at the livery stables.”

“ Okay. I’ll go wire Mother to let her know we’re coming.”

Nick and Jarrod were chatty on the way home while Heath remained taciturn, lagging behind his two brothers. He stared vacantly at his horse’s mane, letting his sluggish body be swayed by the rocking motion. Nick looked back at Heath and stopped to let his brother catch up.

“Heath you’re all right?” When Heath remained silent, not acknowledging, Nick grabbed the horse’s bridle, forcing it to stop. “Hey Heath! You’re in there, Brother?”

“Yeah,” Heath replied a bit dazed. “Why are we stopping?”

“You were so quiet.”

Heath flashed a strained smile. “What’s so strange ‘bout that? Haven’t ya heard? That’s my nature.”

“Yeah, well, there’s quiet and there’s dead quiet.”

“I’m awright. How much further?”

“Twenty more minutes,” Jarrod informed. “You lost track of time?”

“Kinda,” Heath answered a tad embarrassed. “Race ya to the ranch.” He kicked his horse at a full tilt.

“Hey Heath, wait up!”

Nick and Jarrod outstripped the wind to catch up with there brother, which they eventually did when Heath’s horse stumbled on a rock and threw its rider in a puddle of mud. Heath felt his temper flare up, with his rage reaching a peak when Nick and Jarrod started laughing at his predicament. Heath wiped the mud off his face and stomped to his horse, yanking him by the bridle with a force that nearly ripped the animal’s teeth out. “Ya stupid animal,” Heath cursed, repeatedly jerking the reins until the horse neighed in pain.

“Hey Heath, stop it!” Nick shouted.

“What?”

“D’you realize what you’re doing?”

Heath looked at Charger, painfully chewing on his bit and quickly loosened his hold on the reins. Never had he raised a hand to a horse before and loathed people who did. He winced in disgust at his action and mounted in silence. Jarrod and Nick frowned with worry before they followed their disturbed brother home.

Victoria returned from her trip in late morning. Before meeting her at the train station, Ciego made a brief stop at the telegraph office where the clerk handed him Jarrod’s wire. A gleeful smile hung from ear to ear at the marvelous news of the boys’ return. Jarrod had found his brothers and was bringing them home safe and sound.

On the way back to the ranch, Ciego began filling Victoria in on her sons’ misadventure, mostly equivocating, to spare the travel-weary mother any unnecessary heartaches.

As she pored over Jarrod’s telegram, her mother intuition sensed a concealed drama, but she strived to retain a deadpan countenance until her sons were home.

When morning wore into afternoon, the brothers arrived at the ranch. Victoria was first to welcome them with arms outstretched.

“Oh Nick, Heath.” Victoria flung her arms around Nick. “Ciego told me what happened.” She cupped his face in both her hands and studied his features for the tinniest bruise. “ Are you okay?” she queried with a shuddering breath.

Nick laid his hands on top of hers and smiled. “I’m alright.”

She turned to her bedraggled son and put a hand on his shoulder. “Heath.”

“I’m fine, Mother. Guess that hug’ll have to wait after my bath.”

“You won’t have to remind me” She smiled and kissed him on the clean cheek. “Welcome back, son.”

Heath managed a strained smile at her before he asked Audra’s assistance to help him up the stairs.

“He looks terrible,” Victoria observed as she watched a limping Heath lean on his sister for support.

“He fell into a puddle of mud.”

“I meant his eyes. They look drawn.” She turned to her sons who wore forlorn expressions. “ Jarrod? Nick? What is it you’re not telling me?”

Jarrod exchanged a rueful glance with Nick before he wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulders and ushered her to the living room. Nick fixed himself a glass of whiskey to help muster up his courage, while Jarrod invited his mother to sit down. Nick signed heavily, quaffed down his liquor and poured himself a second before he walked over to the fireplace where he laid his hand on the mantle and whirled his whiskey with the other. He began describing the torture Heath was subjected to inside the iron box and that the doctor’s best advise was to exert patience with the traumatized man while his mind healed. Every fibre of Victoria’s being shattered at the thought of her son trapped in that hellish contraption. She hung on to Jarrod’s hand for comfort.

“What else did the doctor say?”

“That he’d be wiring Doc Merar to have the bandages changed on his leg.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Are you absolutely certain? You’re not shielding me?”

Jarrod squatted down in front of her and gently clasped her hands “He’s going to be just fine, Mother.”

She gave Jarrod’s hands a light squeeze before raising one to his cheek. She nodded with a half-hearted smile and stood to tread her way upstairs to Heath’s room.

Nick drained his glass and went to the bar to pour himself a third one. “Jarrod d’ya see how he roughed up his horse?”

“Yeah, I did.” Jarrod answered dejectedly as he walked over to the bar to join his brother in a drink.

“The look in his eyes. It was like the devil possessed him.”

“He’ll be to his old self again before you know it.”

“Can I have that in writing?”

“I know you’re worried about Heath, I am too, but we need to think positive; otherwise Heath will sense it and he’ll never get through this.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” Nick tossed down his third drink and took the carafe to pour himself a fourth when Jarrod gripped his arm.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

Nick hung his head to his chest and plunked the bottle down. “I’ll go for a walk.”

Jarrod’s brows furrowed with deep concern. A hollow feeling of helplessness formed in the pit of his stomach as he watched his brother walk away. Try as he did, he couldn’t begin to imagine the nightmare his brothers experienced in that corrupt prison.

During the night, Nick jolted out of sleep, gasping for breath. He was soaked to the skin with sweat, his stiff muscles stinging like fire. In his nightmare, he was fumbling with the iron box lock. He couldn’t seem to get it open. Hundreds of keys were scattered everywhere on the ground as he frantically tried every one before the last finally unbolted the lock, but it was too late; Heath was already dead.

He sat on the bed, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and wiped the sweat off his face before he shuffled over to the dresser to pour water into a bowl and splash a handful onto his flushed cheeks. He dabbed his face dry with a towel that he tossed aside to go don his night robe and put on his slippers. With a yawn, he left his room to go check on Heath. He approached the bedroom door and glued his ear against it. He nudged it open and peered inside. Heath appeared to be sleeping like a log but Nick nevertheless padded up to the bed to get a closer look. Nick’s heart leapt to his throat when he saw Heath’s eyes bulging out. He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to shake him awake. “Heath, wake up!”

“I…I can’t breathe. So hot!” Heath choked on his words.

“Heath come on, wake up!” Nick urged frantically, distressed by his brother’s torment. He slapped him gently on the cheeks. “Come on, wake up!”

“Nick!”

“Heath, I’m here. No one’s gonna hurt ya. You’re home and you’re safe. Come on, come back to us, Heath,” he coaxed.

Heath gripped Nick’s arm as he startled out of the nightmare, and adjusted focus on his brother’s shadowy silhouette. “Nick?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Heath’s eyes darted around the room. “Where am I?”

“You’re in your room.”

“At the ranch?”

“Yeah.”

“Home,” Heath sighed with relief.

“That’s right, Little Brother We’re home, safe. It’ll be alright.”

Heath shut his eyes tight as though he wanted to imprint the image in his muddled mind. Slowly he released his hold on Nick’s arm. “Sorry I woke ya.”

“No you didn’t.” Nick’s eyes narrowed in concern. “That box again, right?”

Heath blinked heavily and nodded.

Nick gave Heath a soft tap on the shoulder. “Try to get back to sleep.”

Heath shook his head and gulped. “ I can’t .”

“How ‘bout if I stay with ya?”

“Thanks Nick but ya don’t need to stand guard. You go back to your room. It’ll be dawn soon anyway.”

“Yeah in five more hours,” Nick spoke with sarcasm. He got up and pulled a chair next to Heath’s bed. He reached for a quilt drapped over the bed brass rail, sat down and bundled up. “ Perhaps if we stick together the nightmares won’t return, at least tonight.”

“Nick, honest, I don’t need ya to stay with me.”

“Hush and go to sleep.” With his feet resting on the bed, Nick shifted into a comfortable position and closed his eyes.

Heath watched his big brother wriggling in his seat and smiled in reminiscence of the night at the hotel where Nick turned down a soft bed so that his little brother could get a goodnight sleep. Although he couldn’t bring himself to openly admit it, Heath was glad that Nick had decided to stay in his room.

Nick’s presence provided him with a sense of security. With big brother by his side, Heath was soon in the Land of Nod.

A days crept by. Heath became increasingly restless. His lame leg precluded any strenuous activity around the ranch. He was raring to resume his work, especially busting broncos, but was only allowed to watch Nick and other ranch hands ride the wild beasts from behind the fence.

Heath choked on a laugh that he tried his best to contain as he admired his sibling’s touch at trying to lasso an ornery stallion that forbade anybody within ten feet of him.

“Whatta ya laughing at? “ Nick snarled at Heath who creased up as he could no longer conceal his amusement.

“You, Nick. That horse ain’t never gonna let ya near him with that attitude.”

Nick clumped towards Heath, fists on hips and chest bulging out in a tough stance. “Oh, and you think ya can do any better? “

“You bet!” Heath climbed over the fence but Nick pushed him back down.

“Oh no you don’t. You stay right on that side of the fence. Mother’ll skin me alive if I let ya near that horse.”

“Nick I’m just gonna talk to him not ride him.”

Nick eyed Heath warily. “Just TALK?” Nick accented.

“Promise.”

Nick briefly pondered Heath’s request before he tilted his head in agreement “Alright.” He helped his little brother stride over the fence. He leaned against the fence with his arms crossed and an eyebrow arched in skepticism as he kept a watchful eye on Heath who was edging up to the stallion. He was aware of Heath’s gift with horses, the baffling connection that escaped all rational explanation, but he was nevertheless worried.

Heath inched his way up to the skittish black stallion, thudding his front hoof on the ground. When he was about ten feet away, the animal stepped backwards and Heath stopped. “Hey, ya a great looking thing, aren’t ya boy?” The horse pricked up its ears and raised his head, his big black eyes scrutinizing Heath’s every movement. “Yeah, that’s it. Look at me. Ya know I don’t wanna hurt ya.” The horse snorted and shook his head while Heath took another two steps forward. The horse instantly took one backwards and nodded his head. « What is it ya trying to tell me? » The horse raised his head in direction of Nick, leaning against the fence with three other ranch hands, watching the scene. “That’s Nick. Big brother Nick. He’s a handful and got a mean streak but I’m here to tell ya he’s got more bark than bite. He’s meek as a lamb once ya get to know him.”

“That’s amazing, Nick,” remarked one of the hands. “It’s as if the horse understands what he’s saying.”

“Yeah,” Nick replied absently, not averting his stare from his brother.

“Want me to introduce ya proper?” Heath asked the stallion by extending his arm to offer his hand to smell. The horse first balked then took a whiff of Heath’s hand. All over sudden, the animal reared up on its hind legs and knocked Heath down with its front hooves. Nick and the hands bolted to Heath, who was rolling down on the ground to avoid being trampled by the wild animal. They waved the horse away while Nick scooted Heath under the arm and dragged him to safety, where he propped him against the fence.

“Heath, ya alright?” Nick asked frantically while he groped his brother’s body for any injury.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Heath panted. “Nick, I don’t understand. That horse wanted to kill me!”

“Yeah, well, he has a killer instinct. I don’t think we’ll be able to bust him. Might have to turn him loose.”

“He took one whiff and reared up. It’s never happened before. What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey, why d’ya instantly assume there’s sum’thin’ wrong with ya? It’s the horse that’s got a problem.”

“When he knocked me to the ground, I wanted to kill him,” Heath confessed between gritted teeth.

“Same thought crossed my mind when I saw ya under his flailing hooves. Ya scared the living daylights outta me, Heath.”

“I’ve never had any ill though about a horse in my life.” Heath’s breathing increased as he clawed at Nick’s shirt and stared saucer-eyed in terror at him “Nick, I’m scared.”

“Nick reached for Heath’s grip and tapped it twice before squeezing the fist. “ I reckon I know what the problem is. You usually sweettalk the ones ya intend to break yourself, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, that one must’ve sensed ya weren’t gonna ride him. It’s like whispering sweet nothings into a girl’s ear and knowing big brother Nick is the one taking her out to the dance later. The words don’t come out the same.”

“D’ya really believe that?”

“Of course,” Nick boasted. “Heath don’t fret about it none. In a few days when you’re fully mended, ya’ll have them all eating outta the palm of your hand.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Nick helped Heath on his feet. “Oh and Heath, about what just happened…let’s stuff it under the hay ‘cause you know Mother?”

“Yeah, she’s liable to keep me tied down to my bed.”

“That’s nothing compared to what she’ll do to me.” Nick put his arm around Heath’s shoulders and led him out of the corral.

Heath gave one last glance at the black stallion, stomping the ground with his hooves. “Keep him until I can ride him, Nick. I’ll bust him.”

“You got it, Little Brother.”

The night once again plunged Nick into a terror-fraught nightmare, which ended with Heath coming at him with a gun. As the shot fired, Nick jerked awake, panting, his brow dripping with sweat. He drew in a few deep breaths while sponging his face dry with the edge of the bed sheet. He stared at the moonlit ceiling, with a hand behind his head and began meditating on the meaning of his dream. Why would Heath be training a gun on him? More precisely to the point why would he shoot him? Nick was filled with a sense of foreboding. The visions made his stomach churn. He heaved a suddering breath before curling up on his right side. He hugged his pillow and closed his eyes.

As he was drifting off, the sound of whimpers tugged him back awake. He opened his eyes and swivelled them back and forth in puzzlement. The faint wails seemed to be coming from inside his room. He sat in his bed and let his eyes adapt to the night vision, then squinted at the shady lump in a corner of the room. He lit his oil lamp and inched circumspectly towards the laments. As he brought the lamp closer, Heath’s features appeared. He was sitting on the floor, his shuddering body rocking back and forth with his arms hugging his legs. Nick set the lamp on the dresser and as he reached out to his whimpering brother, Heath reacted violently to the touch and started pummeling his fists at Nick’s chest.

Nick gripped Heath’s wrists. “Heath, it’s me, Nick! Wake up!” Nick’s hair raised at the back of his neck and his blood curdled at the petrified look in Heath’s eyes.

“Don’t hurt me anymore, please!” Heath begged with a quavering voice, his body racked with unrestrained sobs.

”I’m not gonna hurt ya, Heath.” Nick released Heath’s wrists and took his head in his hands. “Look at me, Heath. It’s me, big brother Nick. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt ya, ya hear me? No one’s gonna touch ya,” Nick emphasized, conveying the words from his dark brown to the frightened blues. Nick ran his hand up and down Heath’s arm to appease his fear. When his brother’s gasping pants appeared to susbside into a more normal breathing rate, Nick hoisted him up and assisted him toward the bed where he laid him down and pulled the covers over him. Heath held his clenched fists to his chest and stared blankly at the ceiling, while Nick pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat. He held his folded hands over his mouth and stared at Heath with a forlorn expression. Heath was far worse than he let on. Nick racked his brain as to where he went wrong with his brother to allow his condition to deteriorate.

...Continued