The privately hired cab arrived at the theatre not long afterwards and out stepped the handsome three Barkley brothers; their appearance causing quite a stir.

A couple who recognised Jarrod came forward out of the waiting crowd and quickly made themselves known. Jarrod quickly affected introductions between them and his brothers. As the crowd of opera-goers moved forward to go inside the theatre the two parties arranged to meet during the interval.

Heath, who had never visited a theatre as grand and impressive as the one in front of him before, soaked in the atmosphere. Unlike Nick, he was looking forward seeing the opera.

All he knew was the title, ‘La Traviata’. Jarrod had told him no more, wanting Heath to experience its theatre, beauty and sound for himself. The family of brothers went inside. Nick carrying his reluctance to the end, two-steps behind.

“Just look at him!” Nick announced to Jarrod as he and his brother both sat on one side of a hired cab opposite a sleeping Heath.

The youngest brother had contorted his six foot frame into the snug fit of two seats by pulling up his legs and folding his arms in front of him. He was using Jarrod’s evening cloak as a make-do pillow, having conned his older brother out of it with a plea that he had not brought his own. He wore a smile on his lips and every now and then emitted a low tuneful hum of the music he had heard that evening.

Jarrod smiled. His little brother had certainly enjoyed the evening.. For him the evening had also been a reverberating success. He liked to share his passions with his family and it had been important to him that Heath had enjoyed the evening. In fact, Heath, almost as soon as the opera started had fallen in love with the theatre, spectacle, music and singing of the opera, dismissing Nick’s own much verbalised lack of enthusiasm which Nick then had to sit on for the remainder of the evening.

“Just look at him!” Nick continued. “Who’d have though it! Our little brother. MY LITTLE BROTHER! Likes the opera!!!”

“And why should he not?” Jarrod replied.

“He’s a rancher, for heaven‘s sake!” Nick declared, almost as though the very occupation and way of life was explanation enough.. “And he’s MY brother!” He added, earning him a dry and measured look from Jarrod.

“Your reasoning if I understand it correctly, Nick, is that it is not possible to be all three!”

Nick ignored his brother’s attempt to make logic out of his ranting. “You do know what this means now, don’t you?” He looked across at Jarrod with a pained look.. “I’m going to be hearing Heath’s singing and humming wherever I go for the next week!”

“Small price to pay for his enjoying the evening so much.“

“He’d have enjoyed seeing Lily Langtry more.“ Was Nick’s quick reply, softened by his imagined vision of the lovely actress. The thought of women brought him to his other concern. Not so much a concern, more a peaked interest. “And what about you, Counsellor? Seems to me you were gone a long time during the interval. Heath and I thought we would have to head up a search party for you.”

Jarrod knew it was coming and smiled, giving nothing away.

But these were brothers of old and Nick wasn’t prepared to give up. Opposite Heath stirred and tried to make himself more comfortable. He provided his own comment by humming again, distracting Nick for a moment from his line of enquiry. “See! See! What you’ve done!” He sighed, alluding once again to the corruption of his younger brother by the older one.

When Heath settled back into sleep, Nick returned his attention to Jarrod. “Well?” He asked, training his eyes on the suave lawyer.

“Well what?”

“Who is she?”

“And what makes you think it’s a woman?”

“You telling me it isn’t? Jarrod, I’ve been your brother for thirty years. I know it’s a woman!”

“Felicity,” Jarrod answered, a twinkle in his eye as he remembered her. “Felicity Myers.”

“Felicity Myers! The singer! The singer who was singing tonight!”

“The same.”

“Do you know her?”

“Not till tonight?”

“Not till tonight? You mean you just met her in the interval?”

“I did. And what‘s more I am taking her to dinner tomorrow night.”

“And what about Heath and me?”

“You can entertain yourselves for one night. Tomorrow night, dear brother, I am otherwise engaged.”

Nick gave his brother a skewed look. “This isn’t going to get serious, is it? You’re not going to land me with an opera singer for a sister-in-law, are you?”

Jarrod just smiled. It was worth maintaining silence just to see his brother near-hyperventilate at the thought.

“Now, this is more like it!” Nick announced, as he stood outside a theatre for a consecutive night. “Heath, little brother! Jarrod isn’t the only one responsible for your cultural education. Tonight it’s my night to be the teacher.”

Heath who needed no education, played along. “If you insist, Nick” He replied without letting Nick see the playful smile on his face. “They call this a thee-a-ter, right?”

Nick was so busy looking at the life-size billboard of the Jersey Lily, he missed Heath’s humour at his expense and continued enthusiastically, “This, here is the Jersey Lily, Heath. Isn’t she the most beautiful woman you have ever seen? Why a man could drown in those pools she has for eyes! And look at that slender, tapering neck, the turn of her aristocratic chin, that sweet pale complexion, the European nose the …...”

“The wedding band.” Heath dryly added before his brother got too carried away with what was after all just a billboard and not the real thing.

“She’s wearing gloves.” Nick responded haughtily, not thanking Heath for reminding him that Miss. Langtry was in fact Mrs. Langtry.

He took one more look at the vision of loveliness in front of him before following his brother inside to the foyer. Like Jarrod the night before, he had arranged a box for them both, no easy thing in a town clamouring to see the visiting celebrity that was the ‘Jersey Lily‘. Of course, it had cost him. Cost him well over the true price but he considered it money well spent.

Inside, when they were both settled, he opened the fancy programme and regaled Heath with what the evening had to offer. Heath listened good-humouredly.

He was no stranger to theatres. The opera yes, but he had seen his fair share of visiting shows. Admittedly, they had been in Stockton and not on such a grand scale. But he was by no means ignorant. In fact when he and Cate had married they had honeymooned in San Francisco for a week, visiting the theatre twice, before heading for the lovers solitude of their coastal hideaway. There they saw no one and it had seemed for all the world as if the endless golden sands and blue ocean had been conjured up just for them alone.

Somehow, as many times as Heath had visited Jarrod, the opera had never been something that Jarrod had shared with him, Jarrod perhaps thinking that it would not be to Heath’s taste. But he had enjoyed it. Moreover, he was glad his eldest brother had shared that part of his soul with him.

In the near-ten years Heath had been with his family he had learned that a youngest brother occasionally has to navigate a tricky path between siblings. He loved and respected them both and liked spending time with each. Many commented that he and Nick were two sides of the same coin and he did not dispute it. After their initial antagonism towards each other born of distrust, they subsequently became the best of brothers and friends.

They had much in common. They both had a passion for the land that was tangible and deep. Their dreams and future were the same; to ranch together well into old age. At least that is what Heath had hoped for before Doctor Merar’s dour pronouncement that the young cowboy’s health was not quite as robust as his older brother‘s and had to be managed differently. It had been a severe blow to the young man who had just turned twenty-seven and had three children to raise.

Nick never seemed to suffer a day’s sickness whilst Heath had more than his fair share. A reminder that, as close as these two brothers were, they had not been brought up together; Heath’s early hardships reaching out from the past and into adulthood.

Heath, quite literally, shook off the onset of gloomy thoughts. Not tonight, he warned himself. Hadn’t Doctor Merar said with careful management he could live to ripe old age? And hadn’t Jarrod, ‘Pappy‘, reassured him? He trusted Jarrod‘s judgement. He trusted him to tell the truth to him. With thought for his children’s welfare, he had nevertheless made arrangements for his brothers to be guardians should anything happen.

Heath’s relationship with Jarrod was different to the one he had with Nick and he knew he was privileged to have Jarrod fulfil it. A fatherless child, he needed that twin role of brother and father that Jarrod so willingly represented. The older brother seemed instinctively to know when Heath needed him to fulfil either role.

Yes, it was good to be the youngest brother. It came with many privileges, and if either older brother got a bit possessive of him once in a while, it was a small price to pay for what he got back from both of them. Besides, Heath could more than handle them.

The music started playing, the curtain was raised and out onto the stage to tumultuous applause stepped the Jersey Lily. Nick was a ‘gonner.’ It was left to Heath to make sure his brother’s dropped jaw reconnected with the rest of his face.

A debonair Jarrod Barkley gave his arm to his female companion and together they stepped out from the well-lit restaurant onto the sidewalk lit by street lamps. The night sky was aglow with what appeared a myriad of dancing stars dominated by a silvery moon.

The dinner, the warm night, above all his companion had proved a heady mix for the young, normally composed lawyer and to anyone who knew him, he was smitten and swiftly falling in love.

Jarrod Barkley was indeed a happy man. He had not felt this happy, this content in a very long time. Like Heath he had become the jealous guardian of a broken heart; a heart that mourned still for his late wife and the life they had been denied.

Young Beth Barkley had been his wife for only a few short weeks before a brutal killer’s bullet had claimed her, taking her from him and their bright future together. A future that promised happiness and children, none of which had been realized in the time since.

And Jarrod had wanted children - one day - with Beth - his beloved Beth. It was the one thing he envied his youngest brother.

As much as he loved his brother Heath and knew more than anybody the continuing widower’s pain, he envied the children Heath and Cate had had together. More than the family. More than life, they had kept Heath going. They were his future. His reason for getting up each day. His reason for surmounting the health issues he had been dealt.

Jarrod remembered the day he had brought Beth home to meet the family. Their courtship had been brief, both not wanting to delay getting married. It had meant the family were denied a wedding but if his mother had disapproved of their impulsive action, she had not revealed it to either. She had welcomed Beth into the family with a full heart and grieved with Jarrod when his young bride had been killed.

He was the oldest brother but it had been Heath the youngest who had beaten him to the alter. Heath had been just twenty when he had fallen desperately in love with Cate.

A twenty-eight year old, rather paternal Jarrod had cautioned his younger brother against it, feeling the boy to be far too young. And a twenty-four year old Nick had been rather more vociferous on the subject if he remembered.

Heath had stubbornly held out, their mother his only ally. He knew his own heart and in the end he proved his brothers wrong. It was a sobering lesson for the young lawyer and one he remembered with humour when he himself met and married Beth within a handful of days. Impulsiveness was not usually a characteristic to be associated with Jarrod Barkley, Counsellor at Law, but then love had a way of sweeping away all that went before.

And here it was happening again. And he was ready for it. And so was his heart.

Felicity Myers was twenty-eight years old. She had been born into an affluent family back East and had for those times the unusual support of her family in wanting to become a singer. She had toured the United States and Europe with her company and was quite unlike other opera singers who seemed to enjoy their food as much as their singing. She was tiring of touring. She was approaching thirty and marriage and children was something she longed for more than the excitement of another opera, another tour, another country. Indeed, Paris, London, Rome seemed to pale in the company of this handsome lawyer with the piercing blue eyes.

They walked for some time, avoiding hailing a cab that would signal the end of the evening, but eventually, even for them, the moment came.

Jarrod had to return her to her hotel, he to his home. Tomorrow night she would be singing, the next night too. In a few days the company would be leaving town to continue its tour. Jarrod was already missing her. He helped her into the cab. She was graceful, elegant, beautiful. Was it too soon?

“Jarrod!” Nick bellowed down the street on seeing his brother about to get into a waiting cab. Sensing a lift home, Nick’s steps became hurried, then running, leaving his less fit younger brother trailing well behind.

Jarrod heard the familiar deep bark and sighed. He tried to ignore Nick. It had been a wonderful evening. Why did his brother have to spoil it?

Why now? Just at this moment. Though in the same city. Out on the same night. He had hoped. Prayed even that their paths would not cross tonight. And now here was Nick, marching to his own drum as usual. Shouting down the street in a way that wouldn‘t have gone amiss on the range.

“Nick I love you, brother, but couldn't you have walked down another street tonight,” Jarrod sighed silently to himself.

It was too late. He felt the familiar thump of Nick’s hand on his back and then heard himself being taken to task.

“For heaven’s sake, Jarrod. What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me? We’ve just come out of the theatre. I saw you hailing a cab and said to Heath, ’Look, we can hitch a ride.”

Jarrod let out strained smile. He saw Heath come into view, not quite able to keep up with Nick’s speed of foot and felt a pang of guilt. Heath lungs weren’t up to a quick dash down the street. As Heath fought for some air, Jarrod’s concerned instincts returned.

“Come on Heath. Let’s get you inside.”

“I’m….I’m…. okay.. Just need to catch my breath. Leave me a minute I’ll be okay.”

Jarrod had hoped Nick and Heath would hail a cab for themselves. He grew angry at Nick for having made a dash that had cost Heath in the process. Then he grew angry at himself for selfishly wanting the evening to himself.

Heath gradually regulating his breathing read Jarrod’s guilt. “Not your fault Jarrod.” He breathed out.

Nick suddenly joined in the guilt, realizing what he had done.

“Stop it,” Heath objected, seeing both their sorry faces and far more interested in trying to get his breath back. “I can’t do with the double-guilt.”

With effort he let out a teasing smile which served to relax his concerned brothers.

Liberated from their guilt, both brothers then fought to help their youngest brother into the cab, Heath eventually having to shake them off in order to get through the door. Inside his eyes immediately caught the person of Felicity Myers. She was indeed beautiful. “Ma’am,” he drawled as he sat down, feeling guilty at ruining Jarrod‘s evening.

Felicity Myers was full of concern for the young man whom from Jarrod's description she recognised as Heath.

“I’ll be alright, ma’am,” Heath answered before she had chance to voice her concerns. “Just had to catch my breath.”

Before he could apologise for their intrusion Nick made his presence known as he climbed in and sat down next to Heath. As soon as he saw Miss. Myers his face broke out into a wide smile. “Well now,” he said as Jarrod himself got in and sat down.

“Jarrod, I think introductions are called for."

At long last, the journey ended. They had arrived back at Jarrod’s town house. Nick peered out of the window disapprovingly.

“Shouldn’t you drop Miss. Myers off first, Jarrod? Kinda forgetting your manners there, aren’t you big brother?” He teased.

“I intend to take Miss. Myers home,” Jarrod answered dryly.

“Well that’s more like it.” Nick responded, his fun not ended. “Driver!” He shouted up, then stopped as he realized he did not know which hotel Felicity Myers was staying at.

Heath went to the aid of Jarrod.

“Miss. Myers.” He drawled sweetly. “It’s been a real pleasure meeting you. I hope we get to meet again soon.” The statement was short but the meaning clear, welcoming and full of approval of his brother‘s choice. “Come on, Nick.” he said, turning to his brother. “This is where we get off.”

“What now!” Nick objected.

“Yes, now! Jarrod has to see Miss. Myers back to her hotel and you have to see me to my bed.”

“I do?”

Heath elbowed Nick with his arm. “Yes me! Invalid, remember?”

“What? But we were just going to…”

“We weren't going to do anything Jarrod isn't able to handle perfectly well on his own. Say goodnight, Nick.”

Nick, realized he was in danger of looking a fool. With a killer smile he said, “Goodnight, Miss. Myers. It seems both my brothers think I have outstayed my welcome. It’s been a pleasure meeting you. Truly a pleasure. If you’re ever Stockton way, I hope you will call in. My brother is too much of a stranger these days. Perhaps you can persuade him to bring you out to the ranch.”

Heath who was already outside, coughed loudly, “Come on Cupid, it's time to hang up your bow and arrow for the night.” He shot Jarrod a sympathetic look and Nick realizing he had tested his brothers patience enough hastened his goodbyes.

As the door to the carriage closed on both his younger brothers, Jarrod sank back into his seat and sighed, relieved to be alone at last with Felicity. She began laughing, “They are just as you describe them. Don’t be mad. I enjoyed meeting them. Really, I did.”

“I had hoped to be alone with you.” Jarrod said honestly, feeling strongly that time was against them. “You will be leaving in a few days. After that who knows when I will see you again, or even if you want to see me again.”

“There is always tomorrow afternoon.” She replied, promising no more. Secretly, she had much to think of. She was committed to finishing this tour and then the next. She had only just met the distinguished counsellor. She knew how she was feeling now but would time and distance change those feelings. Was he the one? She thought so. Certainly, at this moment he was. But was it enough to last a lifetime. Yes Jarrod Barkley gave her much to think about.

Jarrod on hearing the news smiled. He had a diary filled with appointments for the next day, but would clear them in a flash to enjoy an afternoon in her company.

Inside, Heath made for the children’s rooms to check on them, then for the bathroom and for bed. He was plum tuckered out. Two nights at the theatre was enough for him. His head hit the pillow in anticipation of falling asleep straight away and his hands just about pulled the covers up over him, such was the effort to do so.

But he was out of luck. The door opened a minute later and a still dressed Nick, drink in hand stepped into his room.

“You feeling okay, Heath?” He asked, not unconcerned.

“Just tired, Nick. I just need me some shut-eye.”

Nick was in agreement but he was still on a high from the evening they had just had.

“Move over,” he commanded, anxious to talk.

“Ah Nick, I’m really tired." Heath complained. "Can’t it wait till the morning?”

“Shush. I’ll not stay long. As soon as you fall asleep, I’ll go. In the meantime, you listen and I’ll talk. I’ll be as sweet sounding as a children’s lullaby, I promise.”

Heath opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Not sure I’m the audience you are looking for, Nick.”

“Shut up and move over.”

Reluctantly, Heath moved over to the other side of the bed, his back still to Nick. Nick lay down on top of the covers on the other side, still wearing his evening dress right down to his shoes and nursing an amber-coloured liquid in his hand which worked to loosen his tongue.

“Wasn’t she beautiful, Heath?” Nick sighed, his heart full.

“Miss . Myers or Miss. Langtry.” Heath inquired via a mumble into his pillow.

“Miss. Langtry, of course.”

“Did you see how she commanded the stage. Fine actress. Damned fine actress. None better, I‘d say.”

“She was good,” Heath agreed, hoping the conversation would end quicker by agreeing with his brother on every point. “It was a good evening, Nick. I really enjoyed it.” He continued to mumble.

He had enjoyed it, but had preferred the opera more. He daren't admit to Nick that at times he had found the play dull. And he certainly wasn’t going to admit that he had caught the eye of the renowned Miss Langtry and received an invitation during the interval requesting he come to her dressing room after the play.

No tonight he was tired. Far better to leave that choice story for another day. But tell it he would. On his own terms and at the right moment.

He smiled into his pillow at the thought, yawned heavily and promptly fell asleep. Nick joined him several minutes later, the remnants of the amber liquid falling to the floor, followed by the tumbler in which they had been held.

Heath Barkley came awake in response to a sudden burst of sunshine that shot through the room and annoyingly landed on his face and stayed.

Pretty soon he realized he was not the sole occupier of his bed. The loud, almost symphonic snoring announced his brother’s presence and competed at different octaves with the more tranquil sounds of the birds singing outside.

Heath sighed at this rude interruption to his morning. In the slow clearing fog of the morning he remembered the night before and also his two love-sick brothers. He wondered what time Jarrod had got home.

The lure of breakfast made him get up. It was difficult. Nick did not so much as sleep in a bed as claim it. And he had claimed Heath’s. His long legs pinned those of Heath’s younger ones as he slept diagonal almost across the bed. Heath resisted the urge to shove him off the bed with a disrespectful back kick. His big brother would be sure to land on his head and despite what some people thought, Nick did have use of it.

Getting up, he rounded the bed and somehow negotiated Nick into a position that would preclude such a fall. Nick was a dead weight. The task took effort. Once completed, Heath watched the great bear of a man curl up into the space made free. Dutifully, the younger of the two placed a blanket over the still dressed older one and somehow managed to get Nick’s shoes off without waking him up.

Standing back he regarded his older brother in repose. ‘Now for the other children.’ he drawled, something he wouldn’t dare voice out loud had his brother been awake. The kid brother in him smiled at having got away with it.

He grabbed his robe, donning it as he opened the door and padded out barefoot onto the landing. After a visit to the water closet and the bathroom he went to wake his children calling at Cate’s room first. She was awake and smiling in her makeshift crib, beaming as her father’s face peered over the side.

Her arms went out to him and he scooped her up. “Good morning’ darlin’. You hungry for breakfast?”

The little girl nodded and squeezed her arms around her father’s neck as he carried her to the twins room and rounded up his sons for the morning repast. He waited patiently as both the boys ran to the bathroom in order that all four of them could make their way downstairs together.

“Where’s Uncle Nick and Uncle Jarrod, Papa?” The boys asked.

“Sleeping.” Their father responded.

“Should we wake them up for breakfast?”

“No, not this morning. I reckon they’ll get up in their own sweet time.”

“Has Uncle Nick got his sickness again?” Thomas asked astutely, making it sound like it was more of a regular thing than it was. Heath worried about that.

“No, this time he has another sickness. And your Uncle Jarrod has it, too.”

Both boys gasped. “Are they really bad? Is the doctor coming?”

Heath laughed. “No it’s a good kind of sickness they've got. Though in your Uncle Jarrod’s case it just might prove permanent.”

“How can a sickness be good?” Sean asked, not understanding why his father was smiling.

They reached the bottom stair and Heath steered them to the kitchen rather than the dining room, not wanting to put Henderson and Mrs. O’Gara to any trouble.

“Well, it’s the kind of sickness that makes your heart ache.”

“Doesn’t sound like a good sickness.” Thomas observed, putting two hands on his own heart protectively. “Can’t they stop it from aching?”

“Ah but it comes with the territory.” Heath replied.

“What terri… terri…” Sean attempted.

“Territory.” His father filled in.

The question still remained on his son’s lips.

Heath ruffled the boy’s hair, knowing that his son's young mind wouldn’t understand. He decided on far simpler fare. “Let’s go into breakfast, shall we?”

Now breakfast was something his young sons understood well and there was a ready hole in their stomachs. The sound of Mrs. O’Gara’s happy welcome and fussing of his boys brought a smile to Heath’s face.

“Mr. Heath!” Mrs. O’Gara exclaimed, immediately finding him and his sons some seats around the large kitchen table at which she baking.

“I hope we’re not putting you to any trouble,” Heath inquired, gifting her with a smile that melted matrons and young ladies for very different reasons.

“And now why would you be putting us out,” her Irish brogue sang, “You and the children sit yourselves down and I’ll make you all a good breakfast.” The chidlren's eagerness and chatter filled the room whilst upstairs the two sleeping uncles, slept on.

“We sure are going to miss you all when you leave here, Mr. Heath“ Mrs.O’Gara announced as Henderson served breakfast to the waiting Barkleys.

“Here let me take the young’un,“ she added, quickly relieving Heath of the charge of his young daughter so he could eat breakfast.

Mrs. O’Gara was on a mission to put some meat on the youngest Barkley brother’s bones and had filled his plate accordingly. Heath on seeing the mountain she had given him gave her a defeated look before he even lifted his fork.

“Ah.. Sure now. You’d not be telling me you're not hungry.” Mrs.O’Gara lilted in her sing-song brogue that had a habit of disarming the listener. “You wouldn’t be wanting to disappoint an old woman, would you? Not after I have cooked it for you especially.”

The cook knew full well that this well-mannered young man would not have it in him refuse. He was too well brought up.

It took a few minutes and the encouragement of his own boys but she watched with smiling satisfaction as Heath picked up his fork and began to eat. Though his appetite didn’t match that of his sons who were tucking in to their breakfast with childish gusto, Kitty O’Gara was satisfied that even if he only ate half of what was on his plate, Heath Barkley would start the day with a good meal inside of him.

In one room upstairs Nick snored loudly.

In another Jarrod began his late morning with a leisurely bath. Rather vainly, something easily forgiven in a man who was meeting his pretty lady that afternoon, he looked in the full length mirror before it steamed up from the running bath and checked his body for signs of middle aged paunch.

He was safe. Though a lover of fine food and never as slim as his brothers who kept lean and suntanned from the rigours of ranch work and the outdoors, he looked good. A bit pasty he thought, but nothing that a week on the ranch wouldn’t fix.

The bath full. he sank into it with the ease of a man who had no work that day and thought of how he would fill it, each thought filled with the name Felicity.

Downstairs, a dressed Heath and family were on their way out. Mrs. O’Gara had hurriedly packed a picnic lunch for them and was desperately trying to elicit from the mysterious young man where he was going.

Heath was being typically private, though careful not to offend the well-meaning woman with his wish for privacy. Today was going to be a special day.

“But what will I tell the master?” She tried again, knowing that she would be asked the question when Mr.Jarrod came down.

“Yes, Papa. Where are we going?” Thomas asked, looking up at his father. Dressed and ready even the boys had not been told.

“We’re going to a place that was very special to your mother and me. I think she‘d like it if we went there today.”

“Why today, Papa?” Sean asked, slipping his hand into his father’s.

“I’ll tell you when we get there.” His father promised with a smile, squeezing his son’s hand in reassurance.

Mrs. O’Gara stood in a quandary. On the one hand the young man was so happy and full of adventure, she did not want to spoil his plans. On the other she had a responsibility to her employer. Certainly Mr. Jarrod had not informed her of Mr. Heath’s plans, therefore, it was clear he did not know of them.

Central to her thoughts and concerns though was the fact that Mr. Heath was not a well man and everyone in the house, staff included, felt protective of his well-being.

“We’ll be fine,” Heath reassured her, recognising the look as one his own mother would give him. “And I promise we will back for your wonderful dinner. Tell my brothers not to worry.”

And with that he kissed her on the cheek to further advance his charm offensive and bundled his family into a waiting carriage which he had hailed not ten minutes before.

Just before closing the door on the carriage he whispered something to Henderson, a man who knew how to keep his own counsel, and the man nodded, seeming to promise something in return.

“Well, are you going to tell me?” Mrs.O’Gara asked, as Henderson returned to the front door where the cook was still standing.

Henderson paused momentarily to consider the question. “No.” He stated plainly, going inside.

“No, huh?” She shouted after him. “Well, we’ll soon see about that. You know what Mr. Jarrod will say when he hears about this. And saints preserve! The whole house will come down when Mr. Nick gets to find out.”

Upstairs, Mr. Nick was about to begin his day. He hit the floor with a thump.

"Who put that there!" He bellowed as his nose squashed up against the hard surface, his brain not yet awake enough to comprehend that like the gravity he had just experienced, it had always been there.

“What is it, Papa? Papa! What is it?” Both boys chorused as they ran from the carriage onto the sandy surface that instantly sank beneath their boots.

Heath smiled as he finished paying the driver, telling him when to pick them up later that day. He scooped up the picnic basket and another bag in one hand and carried his daughter with the other. “Thank you, kindly.” Heath said in acknowledgement of the lengthy journey the carriage driver had made.

As his own feet found the sandy surface, his boys came running back to him. “What is it?” They repeated in excited fashion. Heath let his daughter down and allowed her to experience the ground underneath.

“Well that out there as far as you can see is the Pacific Ocean,” Heath informed, delighted at the boy’s excitement. “And this here that we’re standing on is a beach. Look!,” he said, as he put two bags down. “See how it runs through your fingers.”

The boys and little Cate copied their father’s gesture and felt the fascinating feel of the sand trickle through their small fingers. They kept repeating the action, each time watching the grains fall to the ground.

“And you know what?” Heath continued. “We can build sand castles near the water, with a lake and a moat just like they had in the olden days.”

“WE CAN!” The boys said excitedly, remembering the castle they had in their bedroom and the fascination it held.

“Sure can.” Heath drawled, gifting them with a full smile. “Come on. There’s more! And something else I’d like you to see.”

“Can we stay here all day?” The boys pleaded, even though they had only just arrived. It was magical and very different to anything they had seen. In their short lives, the ranch had been their only home. They had never seen the sea before, even on trips to see their uncle.

“We can stay all day. I told the driver to pick us up at four. That way we can be home for dinner.”

Their wish granted, the boys ran off to meet the sea lapping against the shore. Heath, a watchful eye on them both, followed, whistling happily as he carried Cate and the bags in the same direction.

“Look Papa!” Thomas said as he stared longingly at the water, desperate to paddle in the waves that just invited him to play. Sean was just the same.

Heath allowed them to take off their clothes and the two innocents ran into the water and just as quickly ran back again, shrieking at the top of their voices because it was cold. The lure of the water was too great though and soon they tried the waves once again, this time ending up splashing the water at each other and having huge fun.

Heath, never one to sit on the sidelines, took off his own boots and socks and rolled his pant legs up, revealing tanned legs beneath. Then he took off Cate’s shoes and stockings and her pretty dress so that she was just in her undergarments and able to play.

Sensibly having packed a change of clothes for afterwards he gently introduced her to the water, holding her steady and safe between his long legs as she paddled, occasionally and then more frequently stamping her feet at the waters beneath.

“Don’t go too far!” Heath cautioned his sons, alert to potential dangers. He had taught both of them to swim, but their swimming was still only at dog-paddle stage and lacking strength against stronger waves.

The boys though adventurous heeded their father’s words never straying far from his presence, even when he returned to the shore to dry off their sister then showed her how to play in the soft sand.

The children played happily for a long time, only coming out of the water when they got cold. Their father was ready with large towels to warm them dry. And in repeated fashion, no sooner were they dried off then they were out into the water again.

“You two ready for some lunch,” Heath asked sometime later as the day slipped past midday and headed towards the next hour. Both boys, feeling the emptiness in their tummies, nodded and once dried off again put their clothes back on as their father instructed. “Can we go back in the sea later?” The boys pestered.

“Don’t see why not.” Their father answered. “But we’ll have something to eat first and then take a walk down the beach. There’s a place I want you to see.”

He opened the picnic hamper which was stuffed with chicken, cold meats, sandwiches, canteens of water and much more. Mrs. O’Gara had looked after them well.

After they had eaten, little Cate fell asleep in her father’s arms and in time he placed her down on the sand, covering her with a blanket and a fashioning a makeshift pillow for her head. Thomas soon found his way into the space she had left and snuggled into his father for a little attention of his own.

“You having a good day?” Heath asked, not really needing an answer but liking to hear it all the same.

“Oh yes, Papa!” Thomas quickly responded. “I wish! I wish we could live here all the time.” He said with childish enthusiasm.

Heath smiled and posed the question. “So you wouldn’t miss the horses and animals on the ranch, or your friends at school?”

Thomas hadn’t thought about what he would miss and his face grew worried at the thought.

Heath gave him a squeeze to tell him it was okay. “There’s lots of great things in life, son.” He shared. “And if we’re lucky we get to experience some of them. We can always come back. The ocean will always be here.”

“Really, Papa? It won’t go away? Not ever!”

“Not ever!” His father confirmed.

Nick got bathed and dressed, exaggerating each effort. His evening attire from the night before needed much attention and was not worth hanging up. Apologetically, he would ask Henderson to see to it. He saw Heath’s own clothes had not been put away and went to hang them up for similar attention. As he did so, a piece of paper fell out of Heath’s top pocket. With another exaggerated effort Nick bent down to pick it up, his nose bruised from his morning’s fall and already reddening at an alarming rate.

“What the hell!” He announced as he studied the wording on the paper and the fine writing that recorded it.

Seeing the note was signed by Lily Langtry Nick shouted, “Heath Boy! You better be running, because when I get my hands on you…..!”

Before he had finished his sentence he was out of the door and heading downstairs.

Sometime later Heath and his boys began their amble up the deserted beach, the boys stopping to gather shells and running back to their father eager to show him their new finds. They were full of questions which their father stopped patiently to answer, teaching them as a father did.

Heath’s thoughts went back to the last time he was on this beach. Then, he was with Cate, married just a week, their future stretched out in front of them and their dreams too. Dreams that included these three children walking in front of him, anniversaries and celebrations to come. And yes, difficult times surmounted together, strength gained from being side by side.

They had enjoyed four years together, a brief moment in the expanse of time. It had been all too short. Their dreams only partially fulfilled. He yearned for her now; physically ached to hold her in his arms, to feel her soft skin under his lips and her body next to his. There were four sets of footprints in the sand where there should have been five - he dreamed he saw her imprints next to his.

He tried so hard to keep her alive for the twins, but it was hard. Their memories of their mother were fading and were non-existent for little Cate. Today, was one way of getting them close to the mother they barely knew but who Heath loved to this day.

The boys were sometimes curious about their mother in that way young children are when they measure themselves against others. They saw other families and knew that they only had a father where as other children had two parents. Heath tried to be both, showering them with love, but even he knew when a mother’s touch, a mother’s love was missed, even if the children did not. Emotionally they were just to young to understand.

And a wife’s touch; a wife’s love for her husband, Heath sorely missed. To turn in an empty bed, to no longer have her readily fill his arms, to not see her face and glorious smile each morning or hear her soft voice talking to him cut him deep and the wound would not heal.

“Look Papa! A house!” Sean shouted out as they turned a corner on the shore line and a cabin came into view. “Can we go see?”

Heath stopped in his tracks as he saw it. The cabin was still there. It had been their private honeymoon retreat. The boys ran ahead, unknowing of its significance to them or their father. Scooping his daughter up in his arms so as to follow more quickly, Heath followed, his very being transported back six years and his eyes seeing again the vision of Cate on the plain weather-beaten porch, her hands shading her eyes against the sun and watching him return from a morning swim. The solitary beach and hideway was their paradise and they had been sad to leave it, promising one day to return. Now, Heath was fulfilling that promise; to this place and to Cate.

The children ran onto the porch and called back to their father. “Is this where we are going to stay, Papa?”

Heath cautioned them not to go any further, not sure of the state of repair. “No,” he said as he and their sister caught up with them. “But your Mama and I did once before you were born. It was very special to us. Very special.”

Thomas, always the most sensitive, leaned into his father, head to head, as Heath sat down with Cate on his knee. “Why was it special, Papa?” he mumbled into his father’s neck as he looked back on the small house.

Heath hugged onto his son as much as Thomas hugged onto him. “Well, because this is where your Mama and I started out on life together. This is where it all began. She loved it here. She loved the ocean, the beach, the quiet and we loved each other.”

“Did she love me?” Thomas asked in that way that children relate things and events to themselves.

“Oh yes,” Heath’s replied, his voice barely above an emotional whisper. “Your mother loved you all so much, it hurt her to be away from you.”

“Then why did she go away?” Thomas’ blue eyes stared into his father’s and his warm breath kissed Heath’s skin.

Tears formed in Heath’s eyes. How to answer? Had he been right to bring them here. Had it been just been a selfish act? What were their little minds comprehending?

He drew a deep breath. “She didn’t want to go away Thomas. Not from you, not from Sean, not from any of us. But God called her to his home. There was something He needed her to do and we had to be brave and let her go. When God calls, we all must go, some day when he calls us home.”

“But why didn’t she want to stay in this home, or the home we have at the ranch?” Reasoned Thomas with his own experience of home as a house to live in with all its security and familiarity.

“She wanted to stay, Thomas. She so wanted to stay. She wanted to see you grow up and be here to raise you. But, you know that God is our Father. And we are His children. And just as when I tell you to do something, it is the same with God. And we do so obediently. But you know what? God is looking after your Mama until we see her again. Because we will one day. I firmly believe that.”

“Will I be all growed up then? When I see Mama?”

Heath's mouth curved at the remark and he let out a laugh.

“I reckon you may even have children and grandchildren of your own by then. It won’t be for many, many years, but your Mama won’t mind. She’s patient and wants you to live your life. In the meantime she is watching over us. Making sure we look after ourselves and do what is right.”

Nick paced the parlour much to the consternation of Mrs. O’Gara who was trying to serve him afternoon tea. As Nick sat in one place and then another, she struggled to keep up.

“Will you be deciding on where you are sitting, please Mr. Nick. I only have two legs and you are like a man with four.” She declared in exasperation.

“What! Oh, I see,” Nick replied, realizing what the had been doing. “Just put it there, thank you. I’ll see to it myself.”

Just as she was about to leave the room, he shouted after her. “You're sure you don’t know where they went?”

“I tried to find out, Mr. Nick. But your brother was not after giving me the information.”

Nick nodded, recognising all too well that particular trait of his brother.

Left alone, he half poured himself some tea, stopped, thought on what was bothering him, snorted and then resumed the pouring of the tea. What was Heath being so damned private about? And why couldn’t he at least have told someone where he was going?

And Jarrod? Why wasn’t he concerned? He was too calm about the situation altogether. He’d not even thought to cancel his date with the lovely Miss. Myers.

The door bell chimed and Nick was on his feet. Henderson, answered the door and smiled at the sight of Mr. Heath and his children.

“Welcome home, Mr. Heath.” Henderson expressed with genuine delight. Heath Barkley stood at the door with two sleepy children by his side and Cate sleeping in his arms.

As Henderson helped him with his bags, he warned him. “Mr. Nick is in the Parlor.”

“Mr. Nick is right behind you, Henderson.” Nick announced with his arms folded in determined fashion. “And where do you think you have been?” He directed at his brother.

Heath got his children inside the foyer and shifted Cate in his arms as he regarded his brother. Little Cate‘s head lolled against her father.

“Something happen to your nose, Nick.” He said, deflecting the question directed at himself and full of curiosity as to why his brother’s nose was twice the size it had been this morning and a particular shade of red.

“Never mind my nose. You tell me where you’ve been!” Nick insisted.

“Gladly, Nick.” Heath answered, “Just not right now.”

“What do you mean not right now? You’ve been gone all day!”

Heath started heading up the stairs with his family. “Last time I looked in the mirror, Nick, I was a grown man. I don’t need to report in.”

“You’re sick!”

“I’m well enough.” Heath quickly dismissed. “Way things are going I’m going to have to do some work as antidote to all these vacations I’m having. Besides Nick. With that nose you’re not in a position to question my health.”

“I fell on the floor,” Nick said by way of explanation and picking up a sleepy Sean to carry him up the rest of the stairs. Heath, still holding Cate held Thomas by the hand as the little one climbed the stairs one step behind, nearly asleep on his feet.

“I’m not a man to come between a man and his floor Nick, but why?”

“I felt like it.” Nick retorted following his brother up the stairs and to the children’s rooms where Heath put Cate in her crib and the twins to their bed. They were asleep within minutes, the day having finally caught up on them in a good way.

As they left the room, Heath regarded his brother once again. “Sure is a talking point, Nick.” Heath tapped his own delicate nose by way of indication. “I mean the way it’s swelling it’s going to enter a room five minutes before you do.”

“It’s not swelling anymore.” Nick objected, going cross-eyed trying to visually confirm his own statement.

“If you say so, Nick.” Heath teased and headed downstairs. The day was catching up on him too.

Downstairs, he thanked Henderson for some freshly brewed tea and kicked his boots off before sitting down in his stockinged-feet to sip the tea. “Jarrod in?” he asked, as he sank back into the comfort of the chair.

“He’s out.”

“Miss. Myers?” Heath questioned.

“Yes.”

“Figures. Sure is a fine lady.”

Nick was as always frustrated by his brother’s deliberate avoiding of his questions. “Look, are you going to tell me where you and the children have been?” His hands were on his hips again along with the no-nonsense air.

His pose and frustration just tempted Heath more. “Jarrod was worried?”

“Yes.. I mean no. I mean yes. Damn you, Heath. I get more sense from the back end of a cow than I do from you sometimes.”

Heath gave in. He was having fun but was too tired to continue it any more. Besides he knew Nick would get his own back. That was the way it was between the brothers with maybe Heath just ahead.

He closed his eyes, rubbing the tiredness there. “I took the children to the beach. To where Cate and I spent that week of our honeymoon.”

“Oh,”

Nick was almost silent, remembering with sudden clarity what day it was. “It was Heath and Cate’s wedding anniversary. They would have been married six years.

Had Jarrod known? Is that why he had said nothing?

He sat down and for a few moments Heath shared the story of his day until sleep finally won out.

As ever his brother's guardian, Nick put Heath’s feet up and grabbed a blanket with which to cover him. Then without a word he left the room, leaving his brother to sleep. In his pocket was the note from Lily Langtry but right at this moment he never gave it another thought.

As he crossed the foyer, the door bell chimed again. He went to open it and there stood Victoria and Audra at the door.

“Mother,” Heath greeted surprised, as he came upon his mother in the sitting room.

Victoria turned her head, her eyes lighting up on seeing her sleeping son finally awake. Their lips met briefly in a mother-son kiss as she held his shoulders in a mother’s embrace.

“Well, it’s about time!” She declared. “I was thinking you were going to sleep all the way till morning.”

Heath let out a yawn, his tiredness not yet extinguished, a legacy of not just his day out with the children but his illness as well. Nick had been right about that.

“Boy Howdy, I reckon I nearly did. It was hearing Nick here that woke me up.“

Nick shot him an unimpressed look as he poured his younger brother a pre-dinner drink. “There ain‘t nothing‘ that could have woken you up except yourself. You were out for the count. Why I could have marched a brass band up and down outside the window and you still wouldn’t have woken up.”

“How’s the nose, Nick?” Heath replied with a perfectly aimed shot.

The whole family stifled their smiles. The subject of Nick’s nose was hard not to jest at, though Victoria did her motherly best on first seeing the injury to show concern. It was just that it was rather hard to get past the nose to remember Nick was behind it.

“Have you seen the children yet, Mother?” Heath inquired as he left his mother’s side to kiss his sister on her proffered cheek. Audra’s dimples were on full display in genuine delight at seeing her brother again. She was here to take the children back to the ranch whilst their mother accompanied Heath onto New York but hopeful too of getting some shopping in whilst she was in the city.

“I looked in on them.” Victoria said excitedly, her anticipation in seeing her grandchildren since leaving Stockton great, “But, they are still asleep. The combination of sun, sea and sand is something we should bottle and take home. It has certainly tired them out.”

She made no mention of the anniversary. Heath had chosen to remember it privately with his children. He would confide in her about it - just not today.

“It’s good to see you Mother,” Heath said as he sat down sporting a smile to melt any mother’s heart.

Heath’s face, more than his voice, spoke of many things. Happiness, love, need, anger, hurt, amusement, reflection, sometimes nothing at all. All was reflected in the expressive features of her youngest son. It was a silent language that the family had come to understand well.

“I guess this means my vacation moves to New York?” He joked, not altogether successfully.

Victoria knew her son was not comfortable with being idle as he chose to see his imposed rest. He was a man who measured himself by the amount of hard work he put in to a day. And for too long now he had done nothing. Victoria recognised that the journey to New York would invite it’s own problems but the journey had two-fold reasons and she was set on its course. Namely, to allow Heath the time he would not give himself to get well and to fulfil the long-held ambition to introduce him to her own family.

He was a Barkley, yes. And a Thomson. But after nearly ten years as his mother he was part of her family too and she wanted with a natural mother’s pride to show him off.

“We leave in two days.” Victoria confirmed.

Heath nodded. Since his talks with Jarrod’s on the subject he felt more comfortable about the idea. It was enough for now. He knew he had no choice in the matter and would not go against his mother.

“Heath boy!” Nick announced as he sat down by his brother and passed him a drink. “You remember the night of the theatre?”

Heath was surprised at the change of subject. “Yes.. I guess so.” He said, wondering what was coming.

“Is there anything you feel you want to tell me about that evening?”

Heath cast a look around the room, still unsure of what Nick was driving at. He got only blank expressions in return.

“No. I don’t think so.” Heath replied.

“Nothing, huh?”

“Should there be?” Heath asked innocently.

“Maybe I can jog your memory,” Nick continued, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket.

As he did so, Heath's face blanched and he wondered how it had got into Nick’s hands. It seemed Nick now had the upper hand.

“Now would you like to tell me?” Nick asked with a lawyer’s approach Jarrod would be proud of.

“Nick I can explain…….” Heath exclaimed as he suddenly had to defend himself.

“Believe me brother," Nick informed. "I’m just waiting to hear. And I tell you. It had better be good.!”

All ears turned to hear what Heath had to say. His mother, his sister, Jarrod and of course Nick. Nick! How had he got hold of the note anyway? This wasn’t the way he had planned it. Now the boot was on the other foot and Heath struggled for words.

“Well ya see, Nick.” Heath said turning to his brother who was disturbingly close.

“I’m still here,” Nick answered, his temper seeming to match the furious red of his nose.

“I see that.” Heath gulped, feeling that he would rather be telling Nick this now from the safety of another room.

“Well, ya see.”

“You’ve said that.” Nick observed impatiently.

“So I have.” Heath said rather weakly, trying to get away. Nick pinned him back down.

“Well, ya see.”

Nick‘s frustration hit boiling point. “Heath, for the love of God, just tell me will you? Tell me, how I take you to see Lily Langtry and you end up receiving an invitation from her.”

“Heath, you didn’t?” Audra was on her feet. “From the great actress. Oh my! How I would have loved to have received such an invitation,”

Nick stared at her disbelievingly. “It wasn’t that kind of an invitation. Was it Heath?”

Audra‘s pretty face turned from smiling to shock. “Oh. Ooooohhhh!” Audra exclaimed. “Mother! Did you know?”

Victoria who was laughing, attempted to shake her head. Much as she wanted to stay, this was for her sons to sort out.

“Come Audra, I feel your brothers can manage this between themselves. Jarrod, please see that Nick doesn’t injure Heath. And no blood on the carpet.”

“But Mother!” Audra objected. “I wanted to hear,” She pleaded as she was ushered out of the room.

“There’s nothing to hear,” Heath pleaded from under Nick who had him pinned waiting for a reply. “Honest Nick!” he pleaded direct to his brother and to Nick's sense of justice.

Unfortunately for Heath 'Justice' had just taken a vacation.

Jarrod came into view, holding his drink and from his stance clearly not intent on physically separating the two. His amused face regarded Heath.

“Jarrod!“ Heath pleaded. “Do something! It’s not like I took her up on her invitation. I sent her a note back, declining.”

“You did what!” Nick’s hands released his brother as he stood up in disgust. “That’s almost worse!” He accused. “What were you thinking? You declined Lily Langtry!”

Heath sat up, straightening his clothes. “I did. Did you want me to accept?”

“Yes! No!”

“Make up your mind, Nick.” Heath said, standing up with renewed confidence. He winked at Jarrod mischievously. “Do you want to punch me because she invited me or because I chose not to go.”

“Both!” Nick declared from his new place at the fireplace. His folded arms promised no such action but his temper was not placated.

Jarrod patted Heath’s shoulder and approached Nick.

“Come now, Nick. It’s not Heath’s fault he received the invitation and you didn’t. Clearly, our blond brother caught the lady’s attention, confirming that some you win, Nick and some you just don’t.”

Jarrod began to move away. He'd had a good afternoon and was intent on dinner. He reasoned this argument was ended.

“That’s it!” Nick shot after him.

Jarrod considered the question. “Nick, if you were eighteen I might say more. But you’re not. You’re 31 so I figure you will survive. Besides, I hear Mrs. Langtry’s husband has arrived in town. Now, if you feel you would like to be having this conversation with him…. Then….

"No, I didn’t think so. Right then,” he said talking to both brothers. “Shall we have dinner?”

Nick took out the note once again, snorted and threw it into the fire, extinguishing his ardour in the throw.

“Why not?” He answered, presenting his brother with a wide grin. "All, I can say is the woman has no taste. Everyone knows I’m considered the most handsome Barkley.”

Jarrod and Heath looked at each other, daring the other not to be the first to laugh.