The two brothers, that had ordered Heath to leave the house and go with Matt Bentell weeks before now worried that their younger brother might never come back as he had been, before they’d sent him away. They both held these thoughts in their hearts hoping beyond hope that the damage they’d caused could and would be undone. They worked with Doctor Merar carefully washing every inch of dirt from Heath’s body. With every careful swipe the water darkened and the hot redness spread color across his skin once it was exposed. The men worked in tandem, aware that in the three lost days, infection had settled in and had joined forces with the dark place in his soul to fight against their efforts to make Heath well. They had exiled him to the prison Bentell had created for him years ago. The men worked seriously speaking only of what they were doing for Heath or what yet needed to be done until Howard Merar called in their hand about Heath’s condition. “What happened to him and I don’t mean these?” Howard motioned to his wounds. “Why did I have to knock him out to keep him from hurting himself?”

Jarrod furrowed his brow and his face darkened as he looked at his youngest brother. Nick was having trouble just swallowing. Jarrod spoke for himself. “It’s my fault Howard. I underestimated what Heath went through during his time at Carterson. I don’t know what I was thinking, maybe that he was too young to understand war.” Jarrod stared at his brother. “He was a prisoner at Carterson. Bentell was the warden. I am afraid I sent him back there and he thinks he’s escaped. That’s where he is now, on the run, frightened and alone. That’s what happened. That’s why he’s fighting us with everything he’s got. He thinks if we catch him we’re going to bring him back there again.”

“Heath was young, too young.” Howard saw both brothers consumed with guilt and remorse. He wanted to impress on them the seriousness of their actions. He also knew that Heath’s youth had made the first hand experience infinitely more difficult to handle. “Do you know what kind of health Heath was in when he was liberated? Do you know if he killed at all, once or many times? Do you know why he survived when so many others at Carterson died? Do you know if he was punished? Do you actually think you know what he’s going through right now?” The doctor was direct and unmerciful in asking the questions the other Barkleys all had but never dared to ask. They were each afraid that the answers might reveal terrible and permanent damage to the brother and son they all thought they loved.

Nick didn’t answer the doctor and Jarrod shook his head. Heath had only been gone a few weeks but he seemed almost a stranger. “There are soldiers who’ve witnessed or experienced such horrors that they never came back from the war and then there are those such as Heath who’ve somehow managed to survive. Some of those leave their family one day never to return. I’m worried about Heath. I’ve never seen him like this, so wild and aggressive. Of course it maybe the fever or the blow he took to his head that’s causing this. Strangely, I hope that’s the case. I can't understand why he went with Bentell. You sent him but still he didn’t have to go. He could have taken off, laid low and waited until you came looking. He must have known the likely result. He must have been terrified and yet he went. I can’t understand that.”

Jarrod and Nick understood. The trust had been broken. Heath did not think they would come after him. They had told him as much. “I guess he didn’t want to chance a bluff. He didn’t think we’d come after him. And maybe when we did it woulda been too late, like you said. We didn’t give him much of a choice. We put him up against what it is to be a Barkley. I think maybe he thought that was real important. I think he figured out that it wasn’t and that’s when he left.” Nick’s explanation worried and shocked their friend.

The bath finished with the conversation. The dirty water was released and clean water was drawn for rinsing and poured over Heath’s body. Nick and Howard Merar lifted Heath awkwardly from the bath. He was wet, soapy, slippery and a dead weight. Jarrod wrapped him in towels as soon as he was lifted out of the bath. Nick coughed and struggled to hold on to Heath when Doctor Merar eased out of holding Heath to wash his surgical tools. “Give me a hand here, Jarrod.” Nick had Heath in a tight embrace waiting until Jarrod was ready to help carry him to his room. The doctor went ahead of them to lay out his instruments.

Victoria was waiting with two basins of fresh water and the linens pulled back on the bed. She had sent Audra to help Silas in the kitchen prepare food for her elder sons whom she chased from the room. Nick protested when she asked both brothers to leave and go eat and then rest, but the sound of his own stomach growling and exhaustion silenced his protests.

Victoria assisted the Doctor in removing the slivers, rocks and shards that had pierced Heath’s skin. The number of wounds disheartened Victoria. It took hours and with every extraction, every piece of wood or stone that was removed she apologized softly humming and gently caressing his skin. When every wound was scrubbed with carbolic acid and bandaged Heath looked like a patchwork quilt. Victoria found little humor in it after the first white square reddened and another yellowed. Only his head had been stitched. Dr. Merar wanted the other wounds to drain.

“He’s going to be a mighty sick boy Victoria. You’ll need to keep an eye on that fever and scrub out the wounds until the infection clears. He won’t like it but it needs to be done.”

“He’s going to be alright?” expressed Victoria as both a statement and question.

“I can’t say how bad the crack to his head is until I know why he was putting up such a fuss.”

Victoria took a deep breath. “Howard, I can’t tell you how awful it was. He didn’t know who we were. His mind….”

Doctor Merar couldn’t hide his concern. “I’ve seen his stubbornness, and his fever dreams, I don’t know all of it but your boys told me a good deal. At the moment he has taken himself back in time. These are some of the tricks the mind can play. You’ve seen his nightmares, what he let you see. My guess is he controlled them and his life as well as he could. He learned to live that way. You took that control away from him just as Bentell had done and Heath is fighting you both now to get it back.”

“Those are deeper wounds we need to help Heath mend. I…” Victoria’s voice cracked, “I only pray he’ll let us.”

“Victoria, whatever it is, I’m here to listen and help in any way I can.”

“Thank you Howard, I hope he’ll come back and I hope he’ll give us another chance. That is something we’ll have to ask for, each in our own way.” Her voice was heavy with recrimination.

“I suggest we bring him home then. Let’s try to tame his fever.”

Victoria took the offer of reprieve, “Aye aye sir.” And set to placing cool towels against Heath’s skin.

“We’ll do whatever it takes.” Victoria caressed her son’s arm and looked on him with such sadness. “You’ll stay won’t you?”

As much as his heart went out to his old friend he saw too clearly the pain that had been caused and affected Heath’s psyche. “Of course, at least until the worst is over.” Howard Merar realized his words had brought tears to his good friend’s eyes. He sighed and put his hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine Victoria, as long as he puts up a good fight, he’ll be fine.” The doctor’s consolation did not hit its’ mark. Rather Victoria settled in next to Heath more worried than before. “He’ll sleep now for awhile yet. You and your family get some rest. I’ll stay up with him for a few hours. I know these last days have been mighty difficult.”

Victoria was not comforted by the words. She did not know the horrors that pulled Heath viciously from sleep. There was so much of his past she did not know. She only remembered the panic in his eyes when he awoke after being shot by Evan Miles. She had put that aside because Heath had allowed her to. He’d said it was alright. He’d shaken his head and his clear blue eyes shone again. “Sorry, musta been dreamin’.” That had elicited smiles. Now she was ashamed. She had known it was not just a bad dream, but he seemed better after that.

Victoria remembered the night she killed Evan Miles. Heath had been shot and Nick was near crazy. That was the first time she had seen the bond Nick had forged with his new brother. It was also the day she had almost lost Audra. Evan Miles had come to the ranch to seduce Audra. He waited for her to return from town with laudanum for Heath. When she scorned his attention he smashed the laudanum and began to force himself on her. Victoria had heard Audra ride up and wondered why she was delayed with Heath’s medicine and came upon them. Evan was strangling Audra, weakening her. Victoria wasn’t strong enough to pry him loose and shot him. She had barely fired in time to save her daughter. It was the night Nick woke the house trying to calm Heath out of a nightmare the likes of which she had never seen before.

That night Heath hid his pain not wanting to add to the agony his family, his mother and sister especially, suffered. Nick had been too wound up from the day to attempt sleep so he sat and watched Heath, thinking about the changes each had brought to the other’s life. It had been hours and Nick had nodded off in the big chair he’d pulled next to the bed. He woke when Heath started to groan and thrash in bed. Just before Nick was going to shake him awake, Heath seemed to snap out of it and nearly sank into the mattress. Not an hour later Nick woke the house for help after Heath shot up from the deepest sleep, threw the lamp at him and tried to rush past him. Nick caught and pinned him to the floor. Heath woke slowly surrounded by worried faces and seemed sincerely embarrassed. He tried to dismiss the event with a few words and a tired smile. That satisfied all but Nick. He didn’t leave after the rest of the family followed Heath’s urging and accepted his assurances. Nick stayed and was better prepared when Heath woke two hours later with the same panic in his eyes. Throughout the night, Nick watched the pattern repeat itself over and over and learned to allay the terror of the first awakening moment.

After that Nick became sensitive to his brother’s distress and stayed up on bad nights. Nick would pull the big chair close to the bed, put his feet up and Heath would pretend to be annoyed. Heath didn’t like Nick fussing over him but it was better than the whole family. It was more than that. Heath had opened up to Nick in more ways than he ever had before. He trusted Nick to protect him and his new family from the occasional nightmares that plagued him. Heath’s dreams came when he was exhausted, stressed or physically hurt. Those were the times he couldn’t handle himself. Once the dreams started, they usually continued all night.

Heath had convinced Nick to keep the extent of the nightmares to themselves. Heath said he would talk about them when he was ready. Ready never came. Nick waited for Heath to open up about what was bothering him but all Heath had ever told him was that he always woke in Carterson. He said it was a dirty place, infested, and run by monsters. He reported nothing more than the newspapers had. He never shared anything personal and Nick or any other Barkley ever pursued it further.

The Barkleys knew Carterson had a bad reputation and that it gave Heath trouble at night sometimes. They convinced themselves that he was alright now, safe in their home. Nick wondered to a greater degree with every difficult night whether Heath’s dreams were much more than nightmares. He wondered how long he would be able to continue protecting his family from Heath’s Carterson. It was a reality that lay very close beneath the surface and waited for the opportunity to claim him.

The opportunity arrived with the presence of Matt Bentell and had taken root during the time Heath spent with him. Now Heath was hurt, sick and lost to his family. The chloroform had put him well under and the tension in the house ebbed when Nick, Jarrod and lastly the doctor went to get some rest. Nick had only lain down at his mother’s and Doctor Merar’s orders. He’d fallen into a light doze expecting Heath to have as bad a night as he’d had that day.

Audra sat with her mother by Heath’s bed cooling him down, murmuring to him in intimate hushed tones to rest peacefully and quiet his movements. Audra snuffed back tears that continued to run from her eyes. She resented having been excluded from knowing what was going on. She’d known Heath had gone reluctantly with the timber foreman but she hadn’t questioned it. She hadn’t questioned her mother or her brothers. Now Heath was hurt far deeper than the wounds on his body. He was not safe in his home.

Heath remained still for hours. The chloroform had given him some peace. In the early hours of day just beyond midnight’s haunting reach Heath began to rouse, or so the two women thought. They were tired and woke more fully with every moment Heath continued to fight sleep. Victoria was just about ready to send Audra for one of her sons when Heath seemed to melt into the bed. Heath’s breathing hitched, and his eyes roamed under the lids. Victoria and Audra took a deep breath. They would not have been able restrain Heath if he ran. Victoria relaxed. Heath hadn’t woken and now she thought, he would sleep peacefully.

Thick walls that Nick had learned to listen through let Victoria’s cry for help be answered. Nick was out of bed and in Heath’s room before he was truly awake himself. Heath was still in bed and was falling asleep again. The cycle had begun but only he knew it. He took a chair from the window and made his own vigil. Victoria decided to let him stay. Nick thought about sending his mother and sister to bed but decided it was time to pay attention to what Heath’s will could not silence or vanquish. Heath lay still a long time.

“Heath!” Nick decided to spare Heath the nightmare and wake him before the dream did.

“Shhh! Let him sleep. He’s alright now Nick, go back to bed.” Victoria thought he would sleep all night.

“It is not alright, Mother!” Nick hissed trying to whisper his eyes darted from his brother only momentarily. He went to the bed and sat down next to Heath checking the bandages and assessing the fever. Heath was restless again in his bed. Nick again contemplated sending his mother and sister to bed. He knew that was what Heath would want but Nick didn’t ask them to leave. The secrets had been kept too long.

Victoria watched Nick care for his brother. How he knew what to say what to expect how he seemed to worry most when Heath lay still. Heath woke a second time confused but readily returned to sleep. The third time surprised Victoria and Audra. Heath seemed to have fallen deeply asleep. A sign that they could go to bed, a sign to Nick that the next waking would be trouble. Victoria watched her son urging Heath to wake. “Let him sleep Nick.” She hushed.

“I will Mother. He’s just been there too long.” Nick worried back.

“Where is he?”

“Carterson, the logging camp, wherever Bentell is.”

“He is resting now.”

“No he isn’t.” He’d watched Heath move around in the bed. He’d often wondered if his brother got any rest at all. He’d seen the quiet before the storm. After an hour or so Heath’s breathing got rough and fast. His heart raced faster and his eyes searched endlessly under his lids. He became otherwise perfectly still except for occasional muscle spasms, as if newly dead.

Victoria didn’t push and watched her sons. Heath wouldn’t wake but Nick kept urging him to, reassuring him that he was home, safe. Nick was unsure those words held any truth for his brother anymore, but he told them anyway and hoped Heath might believe it. Heath dreamt a long time and when he woke he was in full retreat. Panic. Heath ran on instinct. He bolted upright, sweat beaded and ran along his hairline. Without a word he leapt from the bed and made for the door before Nick could grab him. He clumsily slammed into the wall on the way out which gave Nick an added moment to grab his arm. Heath recovered, pulled free and raced for the steps he didn’t remember. The whole place seemed wrong. He heard them calling his name and just ran. Nick grabbed unsuccessfully at his brother once more at the top of the stairs. Heath barreled down. Nick caught up and pushed him against the wall. Heath fought like a tiger and Nick expected they would both end up at the bottom of the steps just as Jarrod had only with broken necks this time.

What seemed like minutes were only seconds and Jarrod braced against his brothers pinning Heath securely to the wall. They managed to push Heath until he was sitting down on the step. Heath put his hands over his head and protected himself by pulling his legs tight. He became small and young in front of their eyes. Nick spoke quietly and took Heath into his arms. Heath wasn’t aware of where he was and shrank from the touch. The nightmare held him. Nick tried to convince himself that it was the fever and bump on his head that kept his brother confused rather than his own actions. Jarrod watched hoping Nick would be able to reach him. Dr. Merar rushed past Victoria watching from the top of the stairs and joined the men huddled on the stairs.

Heath said nothing but stayed curled and ready to run the moment he had the chance. Nick continued to talk to him but could not get through.

Doctor Merar quickly assessed the damage. “Nick, he needs to lie still. I haven’t stitched those wounds yet. He’s opened them up again.”

“I know that Doc. You think I asked him to jump outta bed?” Nick was exasperated but mostly afraid for Heath and the wounds that he’d had a hand in opening in his heart.

Doctor Merar kept still. He was angry that his patient suffered and thought it could have been avoided. He was angry with the Barkleys for letting Heath carry his pain alone and he was mostly angry with himself because he had known the damage withholding that pain could cause. He had read about it. Everyone there had kept their mouths shut and allowed Heath to carry the burden alone.

Heath didn’t resist and walked back to the bedroom supported by both older brothers. Victoria and Audra watched and cried when they saw the despair and defeat in Heath’s eyes. He kept them downcast but it was there. Nick and Jarrod put Heath back in bed. Heath closed his eyes more to hide from his reality than to return to sleep and yet soon both were accomplished. The whole family stayed and waited for the cycle Nick explained to them to begin and sure enough an hour and a half later Doctor Merar was stitching the cuts Heath acquired in his attempted escape through the partially open window.

For Heath the dreams were real and Bentell was with him when he woke he was still entangled in the reality that Carterson and Bentell were apart of his life with the Barkleys. Waking had not always been immediate but had brought him relief when he could climb out of the dream. This time he couldn’t climb out and for three terrifying days every Barkley watched as their son and brother fought and failed to escape the nightmares they had brushed aside since he’d arrived. They saw Heath suffer unknown terrors and recognized with opening eyes it was enough to call their source crimes and accuse Bentell as the criminal. Nick and Jarrod had suffered the effects of war. What Heath suffered was different. His mind took him back there to find the absolution that would not come in reality. His brothers, sister and mother realized Heath would not find peace with the enemy, but with their openness and love and sharing he might find peace with himself. They had fed him to the lion, offered him over to possible death and silenced him. They had their own absolution to pursue.

Heath was roused from a long night’s sleep by caring ministrations. He felt his sweat soaked nightclothes being discreetly taken from him. He felt the cool cloths clean and dry him. It felt so good. Every muscle ached from overuse in ways he’d long forgotten. He felt heavy, thick and sore. He missed his Mama. She was always so gentle when he was sick. He wanted to see her. It became urgent that he not miss this chance and pulled himself from the comfort of the cloudy warm pool between sleep and wakefulness.

As Heath became more clear-headed he realized his caretaker was Mrs. Barkley his disappointment waned and became grief. His Mama was not alive. She had died and left him to find his father’s family and they had handed him back to Bentell and ushered the hell of Carterson prison back into his life. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there this time.

Heath opened his eyes and began to recognize the words being spoken. They were gentle, loving, remorseful and beseeching. He squeezed his eyes shut and Victoria felt his muscles tighten against her touch. He remembered.

“I’m so sorry Sweetheart.” She caressed the cooler skin with love and gratitude that he was home and getting better. “Heath, do you know where you are?” Heath opened his eyes and looked only at her. There was no look of recognition, no reaction, no show of emotion. The ache in his body escalated and his head throbbed unmercifully.

He knew where he was. He was in his room in the Barkley manor. He closed his eyes and turned away. How had he got here? How had it all begun? He strained his mind to remember every detail of how he’d come to wake up and feel so dead.

He remembered Bentell in the living room with his brothers. He remembered trying to kill him and his brothers holding him off. He remembered trying to explain why to the family but they refused to listen they refused to understand. Then he remembered, Nick telling him he had to go with Bentell, his Mother, shaking him and telling him a Barkley would be brave and take the difficult path. She told him to prove his birthright and earn the love and respect he’d thought he’d been given freely. The rug had been pulled out from under him. He’d given in to their love. He’d given in to life. He had no other choice but to go with Bentell. He had something to lose. He remembered all of it as if it was yesterday. He remembered everything that happened. He remembered he was leaving and turned away from the woman trying to get his attention.

Then he was in Carterson, inside the tunnel then free on the other side. He took a deep breath and felt his skin pull around the aches on his back. He remembered being free. He didn’t feel that way anymore. He remembered running, hiding, his heart pounding all the time, being hunted, wanting to be forgotten, delivered from the chase, successful in escape. He saw the lanterns, Nick and Jarrod. They gave him back to Carterson.

Heath closed his eyes. No one had escaped. Eighteen men had been shot down in ambush. Three died on the whipping post eight more died within a week from their injuries. Others died from exposure, typhus or because they chose to. When the union army liberated Carterson, he and three other men that had entered the tunnel that night were able leave the prison alive. If what they were could be considered alive.

Heath hadn’t felt alive when he returned to Strawberry after the war, or when his Mother died or even when he came to the Barkleys. He carried so much death with him it was hard to feel anything so he closed himself off. He let death drive him. There was no place on earth closer to heaven or hell and it gave him strength to do what he needed to get what he wanted.

When he came to the Barkleys, he wanted the life he thought should have been his from the beginning. He wanted the life where Bentell and war and death didn’t surround him. He’d wanted to lose himself in the fantasy of that life rather than find himself reliving the nightmare that plagued him during sleep and wakefulness.

He stood up to each Barkley’s challenge. He wasn’t uncommonly brave or bold. He just wasn’t afraid to die; a challenge on a bridge, a race against a locomotive, a powerful name and the wealth behind it, a range war or a brother who hated him. He took them all on and had got what he’d gone after. He wasn’t afraid because in the ways that counted he was already dead. He had nothing left to lose.

It wasn’t until the love his new family offered crept in to his heart that he weakened. He opened himself up to a life worth living and he felt fear for the first time in many years. It felt good in a way that tore at his very soul. In that love he found freedom. He had something to lose and now that was gone again. An illusion he couldn’t live with.

The line between home and Carterson was blurred. Bentell and love for his family that he had not surrendered quickly enough, left him no choices. Heath knew the extent to which he could go in order to survive. He would kill. He would shoot, stab and steal from the living and the dead. He’d had no choice to do those things but to die and at the time it wasn’t a choice he was ready to make. Others had and he’d stolen from them. After the ambush Heath made a promise to kill and that carried him out of Carterson. It gave him strength, immortality and purpose.

He had given all that up for love and now to die was a choice he could make. He had come to the end of his hate and would not kill to live. He chose death, surrendered to the will of his family and chose to die for Bentell. There wasn’t much left worth living for. His nightmares had taken control for days and he’d relived every face that died for him, whose food he took, whose clothes he’d worn. Each face stared at him and challenged. Was it worth it? ‘Come and join us. There is peace.’

For three days he fought against the shadows that threatened him, glimpses of faces past and present he’d loved, hated, trespassed and had trespassed against. Upon waking the faces that greeted him were ones that now haunted him as well. They were thrown in the mix that made him want to die. He opened despairing eyes. The same ones he’d shown on the stairs only he didn’t hide them. He just didn’t have the strength for that. The deep blue pools were endless and Victoria thought she would drown in their depths before finding his light. “Welcome back Heath.”

He turned his head. “Go away.”

“Heath Barkley, I will not go away…” Victoria had more to say but didn’t. Heath interrupted her by grabbing his head and moaning. She poured some water and mixed in the powder the Doctor had left.

Heath tossed in his bed trying to be rid of the sharp pounding. “Heath drink this. It will help.” Victoria put her hand on his still pushing on his temple to coax it away. Before she knew it the glass lay shattered across the room and Heath had turned away muscles tight and shaking with strain.

Victoria ran to the hall and called for help.

Victoria left shaken and frightened. Nick brushed past her and went in. “Now you listen up boy!”

“No, I won’t listen. Get out!” Heath screamed and looked for more to throw.

“You will listen.” Nick pinned Heath to the bed. “You can’t scare me away Heath. I’m bigger and stronger than you.” Heath struggled to get out from his grip but Nick held on. “You can’t get away Heath so you’d best settle down.”

“Yes I can.” Heath struggled and Nick quickly straddled him “I said you are going to listen.” Heath shook his head and Nick shook him hard. Heath’s eyes grew wide before a defiant glaze took over his face. It worried Nick. He’d seen it before somewhere but couldn’t remember. It was bold and unbeatable. There was a plan behind it, a sure bet. “Listen! This is my fault not yours and not theirs,” nodding his head to the door.

“I don’t want to be here.”

"Why?"

"There‘s nothing here for me but the money I came for and I ain’t gonna take that with me.” He had to leave. He wouldn’t hurt them with his decision. It was the only choice he felt he had left and he needed to make it before that too was taken away. An odd smile graced his lips.

Nick pushed himself up from Heath’s shoulders and climbed off him. They glared at each other, fiercely intent on the distance between them. Nick lowered his gaze first then shot it back up almost immediately.

“Heath,” Nick sat on the edge of the bed and laid his hand on Heath’s side. He felt the muscles recoil then relax. He didn’t know what to say or what to do. Heath had made up his mind and for all intents, was already gone. Nick sat there unable to get his thoughts around what Heath said. Nick realized how hopeless and alone Heath had felt leaving with Bentell. If Heath left, Nick knew he would never get over it and hoped he could find a way for his brother to recover from the family's betrayal. He couldn’t force Heath to stay or forgive or love or even live, for that matter. There was only one way to force him to do anything and that was through love and they had played that unfairly. They had forced him to go. They had used love and now it was gone. Nick didn’t know how long he sat but when he came out of his thoughts, Heath was asleep.

....Continued