Brothers, Part 1

The Missing Scene from My Son, My Son

by Bet

(This is the way this story was meant to appear in the Barkley Library. Valerie has promised to repost it correctly the next time she updates the Library.   In the meantime, here it is as I wrote it.  If it looks familiar, you may have already read it in the Library as an out of sequence My Son, My Son.)

Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.

After a near fatal shooting, Nick and Heath fully realize their brotherhood.

How could this be happening? Nick wondered. His family and Wally’s had been friends for as long as he could remember, and they had always been good neighbors. Up until now- now that the Miles’ son Evan had returned home after a long absence, and brought trouble with him. But Nick couldn’t believe that Wally would actually shoot either him or Heath, no matter how angry he was. Especially over a broken fence and a few trespassing cattle. Wally was just not that kind of man- so Nick kept his gun holstered and continued walking. Heath, taking his cue from Nick, matched him stride for stride, neither flinching in the face of the rifle fire.

Nick and Heath Barkley continued to pace resolutely across the open space separating them from the disputed livestock. Bullets peppered the ground by their feet, but the brothers did not even pause, their faces set with determination. As Nick stared grimly ahead at Wally, he caught a glimpse of his brother from the corner of his eye. It was as if Heath had run into a wall, he stopped so abruptly; then, as Nick watched in shocked disbelief, Heath clutched his upper arm, staggered a few steps, and fell, almost in slow motion.

Nick dropped to his knees beside his brother, lifting his head to rest against his leg, and untying his own bandana, he knotted it tightly above Heath’s biceps. He twisted the knot even tighter as he saw blood began to pulse from the wound below the make-shift tourniquet. My God, Nick thought, that bullet’s torn an artery! As Nick struggled to slow the bleeding, Wally Miles ran up to the brothers and bent down to see how badly Heath was hurt.

“Nooo! Heath! Forgive me, boy, ...” Wally choked out to Heath. “I swear to you, Nick...” Nick closed his ears to Wally’s apology- it was a little late for that! The damage had already been done.

Nick glared at Wally, still holding Heath while keeping pressure above the wound in his upper arm, which was bleeding heavily. Heath lay dazed, his face pale and his eyes unfocused, breath coming in shallow pants. He was lying quietly, not yet feeling any pain, but Nick knew he soon would be.

Wally whirled toward his men, “Where’d that shot come from?” he shouted. “Where’d it come from?” There was no answer. He turned back. “Nick, I’ll send one of the hands to the ranch for a wagon, and someone to fetch Doc Merar! Don’t look like he’s hurt too bad, thank God- just his arm!” Wally looked back at his men. “Jenson, you go get the Doc. Will, go fetch a wagon!”

Nick cut him off curtly, “Dammit, Wally, help me here! I’ve got to get the bleeding stopped before this boy bleeds to death! Tear off his shirt sleeve, and let me get a look at the damage!” Nick’s hands were both occupied in keeping the bandana tightly wound around Heath’s arm and trying to put pressure above the wound.

Wally complied, ripping Heath’s shirt sleeve up from the cuff and exposing a jagged tear through the muscle on the inside of Heath’s upper arm from which blood was continuing to pulse, though not as heavily as before.

“Doesn’t look like the bone’s broken.” Nick breathed a sigh of relief. “Tear off his sleeve, Wally, and wrap it around his arm tight as you can,” Wally complied with Nick’s instructions, but in just moments, it seemed, the cotton was soaked through with blood. “That’s not doing it, Wally! Use his shirt-tail, too!” Nick exclaimed.

Wally took out a pocket-knife and quickly cut away the bottom half of Heath’s shirt, folding it into a rough bandage. This he wrapped tightly over the existing bandage, but the wound continued to bleed, blood soaking the new dressing almost as quickly as it had the first. “Don’t seem like it’s helpin’ much, Nick!” he said worriedly.

Heath had begun to focus again, his face pale and perspiration now covering his forehead and upper lip, his breath coming in ragged pants. A tremor shook his body, and Nick knew that the pain was also waking up. “You’re gonna be fine, Little Brother,” Nick said gently, “someone’s gone for Doc Merar, and we’re gonna’ get a wagon and take you over to Wally’s place.”

“Nick, I don’t need a wagon! I can ride- it’s just my arm that’s hurt. I can make it home!” Heath’s voice was unsteady, but there was a determined set to his chin.

“Well, you’re not goin’ anywhere ‘til I get you bandaged up a bit,” Nick spoke sternly. He laid Heath’s head down on the folded-up coat one of Wally’s men had handed him, and proceeded to cut what was left of Heath’s shirt from his body. He wrapped most of this around the arm, too.

“What the hell are you doin’, Nick! I’m freezin’ as it is,” Heath complained querulously, shivering. “Just help me up on Charger and you can do the rest of this when we get home!”

“Look, Heath, you’re bleedin’ like a stuck pig, and we’ve gotta do somethin’ about that before you go anywhere!” Nick snapped, voice sharp with tension and worry. “Any of you men got a coat or blanket for my brother?” Nick called out to Wally’s hands. “And some water!”

Heath was soon covered with a warm-looking blanket- all but his damaged arm, which Nick was still gripping- but to his dismay it didn’t seem to be warming him up much. He shivered uncontrollably, both from the pain, which was now beginning to make itself known, and from the shock of the bullet. Although he had just had some water, he was incredibly thirsty. “Thirsty, Nick, ‘nother drink, OK?” His voice sounded strange, even to his own ears- slurred, uncertain.

As Nick lifted Heath’s head and held the canteen for his brother, he knew he was running out of time to get the bleeding under control; he could see it in Heath’s face and hear it in his voice. He grasped his arm tightly again. “Wally, fold up what’s left of his shirt and roll it up as tight as you can. That’s good!” Releasing his hold on Heath’s arm, he took the roll and placed it directly over the torn biceps, then pushed it forcefully into the wound area, holding it firmly in place.

“Niiiiick...!” Heath cried out involuntarily. He couldn’t remember ever experiencing the kind of pain Nick’s maneuver gave him, and for an instant everything faded to black. In what seemed like only a few moments, he roused to find his arm bound tightly to his chest, holding the rolled pad in place. The bleeding seemed to have stopped.

Heath was barely aware of what was happening around him, and lay limply in the grass, the blanket tucked about him and pulled up to his chin. His body was still wracked by an occasional shiver, but he was no longer shivering so violently.

Although the delay was nerve-wracking for Nick, he knew his brother needed to rest for a little while before attempting the next step- getting him home. Besides, the wagon Wally had promised hadn’t come yet. Nick hovered anxiously over Heath. His brother seemed to be dozing, rather than unconscious; he would rouse when Nick spoke to him.

As Nick crouched protectively over his brother, Heath opened his eyes, squinted in the sunlight, and then looked up at him with seemingly complete awareness. He attempted to rise, but with one arm totally incapacitated, he almost fell on the injured arm. Nick grabbed him before he could fall over, and steadied him while he regained his balance.

“Help me up, Nick. I need to...” Heath’s voice was stronger, and his movements more controlled, though still shaky. He stood with only a little help from Nick for balance, wavered unsteadily for a moment, then seemed to find his feet. Although the sun was warm, Nick felt him shiver, and picking up the coat he’d used to pillow Heath’s head, he draped it over his shoulders.

As Nick helped his brother, he felt almost weak with relief. He and this new brother had had their ups and downs since Heath had come to them a little over six months ago, and there had been times, he was sure, when Heath, too, had wondered if they would ever be able to get along, let alone feel like ‘real’ brothers. Those doubts were gone. He knew now that he and Heath were real brothers- the bolt of pain that had shot through his chest when Heath fell let him know that. Seeing Heath lying motionless in the grass; the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach- he knew now how important this boy had become to him. He only hoped Heath knew how he felt; he would have to have a talk with little brother sometime soon. But not right now. Right now he needed to get him to a doctor’s care...

Heath had rested, and was feeling stronger. The pain was still there, but more a gnawing ache than the white-hot pain he had felt when Nick had finally stopped the bleeding from his wound. He glanced down toward his arm and saw that what bound it tightly to his chest had once been a colorful plaid shirt. Someone- Nick?- had ripped it to shreds, and his arm was now held very tightly and securely against his chest.

He thought again about riding Charger to the ranch. He knew he could do it. They were actually closer to home than they were to Wally’s place, if they cut through the high meadow. “Nick, I’m feelin’ a lot better now, and I know I can ride as far as the ranch. I’m not goin to Wally’s!” Heath stated with determination. “No use waitin’ around for that wagon. I‘m goin’ home!” He looked around for his horse. Charger and Coco were grazing contentedly on the lush pasture grass a short ways away, where someone had staked them. Wally and some of his hands had gone back to their fence-mending, though Wally had been back and forth checking on Heath, and it was apparent that he was keeping a close eye on the Barkleys. Evan was not in sight.

“Heath, that’s crazy! You’ve got no business tryin’ to ride, when Wally’s sent for a wagon for ya! It shoulda been here by now; I wonder what’s keepin’ it? Besides, you may be feelin’ better right now, but you’re gonna run out of steam mighty quick, if you ask me! We need to wait for that wagon.” Nick knew that this new brother could be as stubborn as a mule, even under the best of conditions, which these certainly weren’t, so he couched his objections in as neutral a tone as possible, given his own strong feelings on the subject.

“I’m fine, Nick, and I’m ridin’! Now!” Heath’s tone brooked no argument.

Nick was not surprised that Heath refused to consider waiting. He didn’t even try to talk him out of it- he knew how hard-headed that boy could be. “Look, Heath, you’re right about us being closer to home, and I don’t blame you for not wantin’ to wait, and if you’re willin’ to compromise I’ll go along with your decision.”

“Compromise how?” Heath asked suspiciously. “What do you have in mind?” He was already growing tired, his short burst of energy already expended, and wondered if riding really was a very smart idea. But he’d die before he’d let Nick know that after all the fuss he’d been making!

“Well, it’s like this, Little Brother, if you’ll let me help you up on ol’ Coco, and let me ride double with you, we’ll go right now. How about it? Can’t have you fallin’ off a horse and doin’ yourself any more damage, now can I?” Nick asked lightly. He was prepared for Heath’s outburst, and was not to be disappointed.

“Look, Nick, I can ride Charger an’ I don’t need you to babysit me! I think I’m the best judge of whether I need your help or not- and I don’t! I feel fine, now, and I’m ridin’ my own horse, by myself!” Heath retorted hotly. He turned quickly- too quickly, he discovered- and almost lost his balance before he righted himself and started toward the horses.

Wally had been watching the pair from across the pasture, and now walked hesitatingly toward the Barkleys. “Heath!” He called out, and Heath halted. “Good to see you on your feet, boy! I can’t tell you how sorry I am about all this. I promise you I never meant for anything like this to happen, I just wanted to warn you off! I never meant for anyone to get hurt!” Wally looked pleadingly at Heath, then glanced uneasily at Nick, who returned his glance with a dark look.

Nick stared cooly at Wally, then, turning abruptly, he strode swiftly over to Coco and Charger, untied them, and led them quickly to Heath’s side. “All right, Brother, are you ready? I’d still like to see you do this my way, but it doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen, so I guess we’ll do it your way! Let’s get this coat on you a little better.” Since Heath no longer had a shirt, Nick was worried about keeping him warm after he’d lost so much blood. He helped Heath get his good arm into the sleeve, then draped the other side back over his other shoulder.

Nick led Charger in front of Heath, and with Wally’s help started to boost him into the saddle of the tall horse. Charger snorted and danced nervously away from the men, throwing his head. He was normally a calm, steady animal, but he was young, and the events of the afternoon- gunfire, shouting, and now the smell of blood, plus so many people- even though one was his master- crowding him; it was just too much for the big bay. “Whoa, boy, easy now!” Braced by Nick, Heath spoke softly, trying to calm his fidgeting mount. But he couldn’t keep the tremor from his voice, and this, coupled with the pungent smell of blood, just added to Charger’s unease. The horse continued to shy away.

“Look, Heath! This is not gonna work.” Nick spoke gently, “If you’re set on ridin’ home you’re gonna have to settle for ridin’ Coco. Ol’ Coco’s seen just about everything, and you know he’s a lot steadier than Charger.” Coco would also ride double, but Nick wasn’t about to remind his brother of that fact right now. “I’m not gonna help you up on Charger, so if you’re set on ridin’ him you’re gonna have to get on by yourself, and I don’t think you can do it. Not that I don’t think you’re stubborn enough to try!”

For just an instant Heath thought of getting on Charger just to show Nick he could do it, but he realized the sheer stupidity of that. “OK, Nick,” he said grudgingly, “I guess I’ll hafta go along with that. But I’m still ridin’ by myself! Don’t think you’re gonna ride double with me!” He gave his brother a fierce look.

Coco stood quietly, and with the help of both Nick and Wally, Heath was up on the sturdy cowhorse. He hadn’t realized until he tried to mount how hard it was going to be to even stay in the saddle with his right arm bound to his chest and completely useless. His balance was off, and just the effort of mounting had drained a lot of his strength, even with the two men helping. And now his arm was starting to throb again with every beat of his heart. He had a feeling this was going to be a long trip.

Nick mounted Charger and gathered up Coco’s reins, too. “How about lettin’ me keep the reins, so you can concentrate on just hangin’ on, all right, Heath?” He studied his brother surreptitiously, noting the pallor and tightened jaw; Heath was in pain, and struggling not to let Nick see. Nick‘s stomach clenched- he had a bad feeling about this whole thing.

Wally watched with concern while the brothers completed their preparations for the journey home. “Nick, maybe I should ride along with you, in case you need a hand with...” His voice trailed off as he caught Nick’s look. “I’ll send one of the boys to meet Doc Merar and send him on out to your place! You boys ride easy, now.” He stood watching until the Barkleys were out of sight.

Nick set an easy pace as they headed for the ranch, trying not to watch his brother too obviously. Even being led, Coco stayed pretty much beside Charger; that was the way they usually traveled, and he was an old experienced hand on the trail. Heath held tightly to the cantle of his saddle with his one free hand, and Nick could see that his fingers were white from the force of his grip. Thank God, Coco has a nice easy gait! Nick thought, Probably smoother than Charger, though he knew Heath would never admit that.

The horses had been traveling at a fast walk for quite awhile, Nick keeping an unobtrusive eye on his brother. Heath’s face was pale and strained, his teeth clenched. Nick saw him waver in the saddle, but when he became aware of Nick’s glance he consciously relaxed his jaw and straightened his back. “Heath, how about we stop and rest the horses a bit, and I can check your arm. Don’t want it to start bleedin’ again.” Nick pulled the horses to a stop and dismounted.

Heath couldn’t believe how long it was taking them to get home. When they had started this trip he had been confident that he could make this journey. Now he wondered if he could even stay in the saddle much longer. His hand was cramped from clinging so tightly to the cantle, and the motion of the horse seemed to be making him feel sick. His arm was throbbing mightily, and his whole soul was screaming for rest, but he knew if he got off Coco he would never be able to get back on again.

“How about a nice cool drink, Brother?” Nick had come around to Coco’s side and handed the canteen up to Heath, while looking his brother over carefully. He could see the sweat beaded on his face, and hear his short, pain filled breaths. Heath let go long enough to grasp the canteen, but his hand was shaking so badly he could hardly hold it. Nick reached up and helped him take a long drink.

“Thanks, Nick, that really hits the spot.” Heath’s voice wavered, but he flashed a small crooked smile for his brother. “OK, I‘m ready to ride whenever you are!” he added, with a bravado he was far from feeling. Boy, Howdy, if that ain’t a joke! he admitted to himself. But he was anxious to get going- he needed to get home so he could lie down. But he’d be darned if he’d let Nick know that!

“Nope, not yet, my boy! I need to check that arm and be sure all this ridin’ hasn’t got it bleedin’ again. You don’t have a lot more to spare, I’d say!” Nick pulled back the coat covering the wound and examined the bandages. Worry flashed across his face for an instant, but he quickly covered it up. “Well, looks like it might be oozin’ a little. I know you can make it, but how about humoring your big brother and letting me double up with you?” Nick waited with bated breath for Heath’s answer.

In his heart Heath knew that Nick was right- he was just about at the end of his rope. A few more miles and he’d just fall out of the saddle, and then they’d be in real trouble, He didn’t think he’d be able to get back on even with Nick’s help, and if he passed out... And there was something else- he knew he was bleeding again, probably had been for awhile. He’d felt the warmth on his side, but didn’t want to stop. He just wanted to get home.

“Well, you were right and I was wrong! That should make you happy, Big Brother! I think we both know by now that’s the only way I’m gonna make it home today. So just hop on and let’s get movin’.” Heath kicked his boot out of the stirrup.

Nick breathed a sigh of relief, and putting his own boot in the stirrup, mounted behind Heath. He put one arm gently around his brother’s middle, holding him securely, careful not to put any pressure on his arm. “How’s this, Heath, am I hurting you?” He asked, in a voice Heath had never heard before. Receiving a head shake in return, he clucked to Coco and the horses willingly headed for home

They hadn’t ridden far before Heath’s silent acknowledgement of his own condition proved true. Suddenly he was so exhausted he could hardly sit his saddle. He didn’t think he’d ever been so tired in his life. But no matter, Nick was in charge now, and for this once, Heath wasn’t going to fight him for it. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open, and he slumped back against his brother. As he relaxed into the security of Nick’s embrace just before sleep overcame him, he thought what a lucky man he was. He had a big brother to look out for him now! Despite the pain and weariness, a feeling of warmth and contentment swept through him. He’d always wanted a big brother....

Nick felt a chill when Heath leaned back against him and just went limp. “Whoa, boy!” He pulled back on Coco’s reins and both horses obediently came to a halt. “Heath?” Nick spoke softly. When he got no response he leaned his brother over against one arm and tipped his face so he could see it. Heath’s face was relaxed, and his breathing was rapid and shallow, but steady. “Heath!” He couldn’t tell if Heath was asleep or unconscious. But he guessed that it really didn’t make much difference at this point.

He pulled the coat back from Heath’s side, and it was plain that the arm was bleeding again. The wrap around his arm and chest was turning an even brighter shade of red and the jacket was bloodstained, too. Nick saw that his own shirt was also stained with his brother’s blood. For a moment, he felt panic. They were still a ways from home and he had no way to stop the bleeding now; no bandages, and no time, either. He was afraid to tighten the make-shift tourniquet again, still around his arm but loosened, afraid of causing permenent damage. If he didn’t get Heath to a doctor soon...

He pushed that fear from him, and concentrated on the possibilities. Maybe he could put pressure on the wound by holding Heath’s arm tightly with his own arm. He hoped to God Heath was unconscious; if not, he wasn’t sure he could inflict that kind of pain again on his younger brother. With this thought, he checked the location of the wound and placed his arm around Heath’s right over top of it. He squeezed his arm as tightly around Heath’s arm and chest as he could, hoping that would force the pad into the wound again, or at least slow the bleeding.

When Heath didn’t fight this painful grip, Nick knew he was unconscious, and he felt a surge of relief. That made things much simpler- his brother wouldn’t suffer if they rode faster; the cold feeling of dread that had settled into Nick’s chest said they were running out of time. Nick touched Coco with his spurs and he immediately broke into a smooth lope, Charger at his side. Nick maintained his tight grasp around Heath’s chest, praying that the pressure was doing some good. He was thankful that Coco had such a smooth gait; he wasn’t sure he could have kept Heath in the saddle, otherwise.

At the speed they were now moving they covered the remaining distance rapidly. As they topped the rise, Nick could see the ranch buildings a short distance ahead. And not a moment too soon, he thought- he just hoped it was soon enough. And that the doctor was there waiting for them.

As they approached the buildings Nick saw a rider hurrying out to meet them, and as he got nearer he recognized McCall, the Barkley foreman. When they got within shouting distance, Nick called out to him. “Mac, is Doc Merar here, yet?”

McCall closed the distance between them quickly, pulling his horse up sharply and turning him to gallop alongside Nick. “Yeah, Nick, he’s at the house, got here a little while ago. Wally’s man told him Heath got shot. How’s he doin’?” He took in the situation at a glance, studying the unconscious Heath, noting the bloodsoaked clothing and bandages, and Nick’s almost equally bloody shirt. “He don’t look too good, Nick. Looks like he’s been bleedin’ pretty bad. How long’s that been goin’ on?”

“Too long!” Nick replied shortly, ”Hope the Doc’s got everything ready; this boy can’t hold out much longer!” They were almost to the barn. He could see more hands coming out to see what was going on.

When they pulled up at the corral there was a cacophony of sound and voices. “What happened... who’s hurt... need help?...” along with a flurry of bodies, all eager to help with the wounded rancher. McCall quickly dismounted and ran over to Coco’s side.

Nick’s voice drowned out all the others, “ALL OF YOU BOYS BACK OFF! WE’VE GOT TOO MUCH HELP!” As the hands moved back, Nick called out, “CHAD, RODALE- you men give us a hand here!”

The men called moved in toward Nick and Heath, still on Coco. Heath had not shown any sign of returning consciousness, but lay inert and unmoving in Nick’s arms, his face damp and ashen. Nick loosened his grip on his brother and gently eased him into the arms of McCall and the waiting cowboys, and then slid off Coco. “All right, boys, let’s get him up to the house. Try not to jostle him anymore than you have to; he’s lost a lot of blood. Ciego, see to the horses!” Between them they gently carried the wounded man toward the house. Nick saw his mother and sister waiting anxiously in the open doorway. How he wished Jarrod were here, but he was in San Francisco this week.

When Victoria Barkley saw her unconscious son her face paled. “Heath! Oh, Sweetheart!” She reached out to stroke his cheek. “Nick, how did this happen? How badly is he hurt? ... Are you all right?” She added worriedly, noticing for the first time Nick’s bloodstained shirt- his brother’s blood; a pain shot through his gut.

His mother’s voice trembled, but Nick knew she would rise to this challenge, as she always had. As Nick and the hands carefully carried the blond cowboy into the foyer, Audra reached out and smoothed Heath’s hair. Her face was wan and tearstreaked, and the tears started again when she saw her injured brother, but she struggled against them.

As the men hesitated just inside the door, Doctor Merar emerged from the gun room. “In here, Nick! We’ve got everything ready for him in that little room off the gunroom.” He led the way into the small room that had on occasion served as a sickroom. The bed had been turned back, and everything the good Doctor thought he would need was at hand. A long table that usually stood against the wall had been pulled out, and a folded quilt padded the top. “Put him down right here, boys. This’ll work fine- be a lot easier to work on him here,” the doctor ordered.

The men gently placed the young man on the padded table and then stepped back, looking to Nick for further instructions. He gestured to the door and as they filed silently out McCall slowed and gave him an encouraging pat on the back. For the first time in what seemed a long time, Nick drew in a deep breath and felt the knot in his stomach relax a little.

Nick hovered close as Doctor Merar looked his patient over critically, shaking his head. “Looks like this boy has lost a lot of blood, Nick. How about telling me what happened while I get these bandages off so’s I can see what we’ve got here? You can go ahead and get his boots and pants off while you fill me in.” He knew Nick would remain hovering over his shoulder if he didn’t give him a job to do.

He set to removing the wrappings, talking as he worked rapidly. “Victoria, bring me that warm water, please, and we’ll just wash him up a little as we go along. All right, Nick, you go ahead and talk. I can listen and work at the same time.” The doctor and their mother worked efficiently as a team; this was not the first time they had tended an injured Barkley together. Audra they kept busy fetching and carrying.

As Nick related the details of Heath’s injury, and the events of the day, he gazed at his brother- his little brother- and thought how things had changed- how he had changed, since this boy had first come to them. He no longer saw this young man as an interloper, but an important, an essential, part of his life- of this family’s life. He has to be all right, Nick thought to himself, I don’t know if I- we could stand to lose him now.

“He’s really lost a lot of blood, Doc! I think that bullet musta torn an artery. Blood was just pumpin’ out, and I thought I’d never get it stopped. Then he started bleedin’ again on the way home.” Nick’s voice echoed the fear he felt. “Is he gonna need a transfusion? If he does, I’ve got some top-quality blood right here just waitin’ for him!”

“Let’s just hold off a bit, Son. I don’t want to give him a transfusion unless I just have to. You’ve never had occasion to give this boy any blood before, have you?” Seeing Nick’s head shake, he continued, “Well, sometimes it just don’t work, other times it makes things worse. I don’t want to risk it just yet; he seems to be holding his own, and I’m keeping a close eye on him. Why don’t you go on out an’ get a little rest. Maybe a drink. I’ll call you if I need you.”

As Nick turned to leave the room, Heath stirred, his breathing changing. He grimaced and half-opened his eyes, struggling to focus on the faces around him. As the pain woke with him, he shuddered, a choked-off moan escaping his lips. Pain shot through Nick at his brother’s cry, and he felt red-hot anger swell his chest as he thought of those responsible for this. As soon as Heath was out of danger, he promised himself, he, Nick Barkley, would show them some of the pain they’d given his brother!

Heath’s eyes met his brother’s for a moment, as his lips twitched in an almost smile, then lost focus, and he closed his eyes. Nick reached down and grasped his brother’s good shoulder, squeezing gently. As he glanced up he saw Doctor Merar and their mother silently observing this brotherly exchange. He saw the tears in her eyes as she smiled gently at him.

“Well, Nick, I’m going to put this boy to sleep for a little while, so’s we can get him fixed up. You might as well go get your drink now, and I expect you’d probably like to get out of those bloody clothes, too. Audra, we won’t be needing you for awhile, either, so you might as well get a little rest now,” the doctor suggested, turning back to his patient.

Continue to Part 2, The Gunroom Scene