Eric fell backwards in surprise at the burning of the bullet across his stomach. Opening his shirt, he saw the crease embedded into his muscled skin was red and bleeding. Climbing to his feet above Gene, he looked down at the white face of the younger Barkley and shook his head.

“You definitely didn’t act according to what my research dug up. Part college boy, part rabid wolf, I’d say.”

Picking up the smaller man, he slung him over his shoulder and walked to the cabin. Opening the door to an inner room cautiously and seeing Davey laying in the same position, he walked in and dumped Gene on the only bed in the room.

Closing the door behind him, he stared at his face in the mirror and poured water into the basin.

Cleaning the bruises and cuts on his face, he felt anger rising from the damage to the asset he built his criminal life on. His nose was broken and only after it was healed would he be able to tell if it would be a hindrance to his trade in the future. His lips cut, his eyes blackened and the cut on his forehead was still trickling blood from the blows Gene had delivered him. His ribs tender from the hits to his body.

Sitting at the table, he took out a piece of paper and pencil. Completing the note, he checked the lock on the room once again and left the cabin. Putting the Weston horse in the barn, he climbed on his rented horse and headed to the Barkley ranch to make his delivery.

Twice he had to stop and conceal his presence from the groups of men he saw. Taking out his field glasses, he lay on a hill and watched three riders galloping towards the area in the hills that housed the cabin.

Frowning as he made out the faces of the three riders. Their fast riding causing him to think they acted as if they were sure of what they would find at the end of the trail. Wincing when he absently rubbed his battered jaw, he lay still considering what to do.

“These Barkleys have to be the luckiest bastards ever.” he mumbled angrily. “Dammit, I’m not leaving without the money again!”

Urging Charger on, Heath knew somehow in his very soul, they were on the right trail. The fear that had smoldered in him from the start of the search was threatening to breakthrough to the surface. Riding through the meadow where Nick was shot, Fred took the point and lead them to the area of the abandoned ranch. Stopping on the outskirts of the ranch, the three dismounted and spreadout.

Using the terrain as concealment, Jack entered the barn and walked over to the horse in the stall. His heart pounding when he recognized the animal. Standing to the side of the open door, he waved to Heath who was slowly sneaking up to the house with Fred watching from the partially fallen wall. Looking into the windows not seeing anyone, Heath stepped to the front of the house and called the others over.

Walking towards Fred, Heath stopped abruptly at the darkened spot on the ground, feeling the ground as the other two walked up. Holding up his fingers for the other to see. “Blood.”

“Our horse is in the barn, but nothing else.”

“Let’s search the house.” stated Fred following the rushing Heath and Jack inside.

Heath took out his gun and shot off the lock. Opening the door, the light from the opening spilled across the bodies and the men rushed inside.

Kneeling by the bed, Heath squinted to see his little brother’s injuries in the darkened room while Jack and Fred knelt by the man on the floor. Cradling Gene in his arms, Heath carried him into the outer room and laid him on the floor. Opening his shirt, he took off his bandanna and held it against the knife wounds. Fred ran out to his horse and came back in with his saddlebags. Taking out some bandages, they wrapped Gene’s shoulder.

Cupping the bruised face of Gene, Heath looked up when Jack stumbled out of the room. “Davey?”

Jack was numbed to the very core of his soul as he stumbled to the outer room. He stared at Heath, his brain muddled and unable to focus. Heath’s throat tightened at the look on his friend’s face. Grabbing Jack by the shoulders, he asked, “Jack?”

“Jack!” shouted Heath shaking the unresponding man.

Jack looked into the blue eyes of his friend and choked out, “Davey’s dead.”

Pulling Jack into his arms, Heath felt Jack grab his vest in his fists. Fighting back tears, Heath heard the agonized whisper, “He’s too young to be dead. How am I gonna tell the boss and the guys?”

“God, I’m sorry, Jack.” replied Heath quietly.

Fred cleared his throat and stood up, “We gotta get Eugene to a doctor.”

Jack wiped his eyes, “Heath, you and Fred take Gene to Stockton. I’ll bring Davey home.”

“Okay, Jack.” agreed Heath quietly squeezing the man’s shoulder. “After we get Gene to the doctor, I’ll ride to the ranch and tell Sue.”

Fred brought the horses up to the house. Heath climbed up and they handed Gene up to him. Heath leaned his little brother back against him, worried by the lack of color in his face and the unconscious state he was in. Jack looked up into the worried blue eyes and stated firmly, “We’re not losing both of them, Heath. Eugene will be fine, I know it.”

Taking a deep breath, Heath turned Charger and nudged him to a trot with Fred following. Walking back into the room where his young wrangler and friend took his last breath, Jack let the sobs of grief wrack his body while he gently wrapped the young man in a blanket.

Nick galloped from the ranch, intent on joining the search for Davey and Eugene knowing his wife was in good hands at the house. He met up with Duke and the Bardo twins on the way to the wagon. More search parties arrived at the wagon where the men were last known to be, returning empty handed. Frustration was as thick as a blanket in the atmosphere around them.

Talking to Duke, Nick slapped his gloves against his black jeans and stalked around in a circle. “Duke, who hasn’t returned yet?”

“Pedro, Bill and Tony. Heath, Jack and the sheriff.”

“Riders coming!” called Hank pointing to the three men riding up.

Bill stopped in front of Nick and dismounted, “Nick, Heath and the sheriff are on their way to Stockton with Gene. He’s got a bad knife wound.”

The hope that appeared on Nick’s face faded at the look in Bill’s eyes, “Davey?”

Shaking his head, Bill said quietly, “He didn’t make it. Jack’s bringing him home.”

Curses of disbelief mixed with cries of sorrow and anger could be heard through the group of searchers. Nick took a shaky breath and asked, “Did anyone tell Sue, yet?”

“No, Heath was planning on telling her after they got your brother to the doctor.” explained Bill.

“Duke, meet Heath at Dr. Merar’s and have him stay there. I’ll head to the ranch and let them know.” said Nick quietly.

Giving his condolences to the men of Sue’s crew, he climbed up on Coco and headed back to the ranch. His heart heavy from the news of the young wrangler’s death, his anger flaring and building as he wondered who was responsible for such a foul deed, concerned with his wife’s reaction to the dreadful news.

Darkness was falling as Nick quickly groomed Coco and headed to the house. Entering the parlor, he found his Mother, Jarrod, Audra and Sonya. “Where’s Sue, Mother?”

“She’s resting, Nick.” stated Jarrod watching his little brother intently. “Any news.”

“Heath and Fred are on their way to Dr. Merar with Gene. Bill says he’s got a bad knife wound.” said Nick with a sigh. “I don’t know much else about the wound or the condition he’s in.”

“Thank god, they’ve been found.” sighed Victoria looking at the relieved, smiling faces of the others. “Jarrod, hitch up the buggy.”

“What about Davey?” asked Sue walking in from the foyer, stopping abruptly at the pain penetrating the hazel eyes of her husband.

“Sue, Davey was killed.” said Nick quietly.

Gasps greeted Sue’s ears as the words penetrated into the happiness she had been feeling only seconds earlier and her emerald eyes, overflowing with relief at the news of finding Gene, quickly changed to shock and emptiness. Stepping back when Nick tried to take her in his arms, she held up a trembling hand and whispered, “Don’t. Just don’t.”

“Honey..”

Everyone watched Sue turn and numbly walk up the stairs. Glancing quickly at his family, Nick followed his wife’s trail up the stairs. Reaching the nursery, he saw her standing at the window feeding Colton and staring up at the stars with tears on her cheeks. Grabbing the other bottle, Nick picked up Dakota and stood by her quietly feeding the blonde baby. After the feedings and diaper changes had been done, the boys fell asleep.

Taking her by the hand, Nick led her into their bedroom concerned by the lack of emotion in her eyes. Tucking her into bed, Nick wiped the tears from her cheeks, “Sue, I’m..”

“Night, Nick.” she whispered before closing her eyes hoping it was all a bad dream. After she fell asleep, Nick gently kissed her forehead and walked downstairs. Silas informed Nick, the family had gone to Stockton to be with Eugene. Grabbing a bite to eat, Nick went back upstairs to his family.

When Sue woke a short while later, she realized it was not a dream but reality. Her friend was gone, his laughter stolen from this earth and displaced to the heavens above. Heading down to the kitchen, her hands shook as she tried to pour the milk into the bottles for the twins’ feedings. Silas watched the struggle she was fighting with her emotions from the corner of his eye. “Miss Sue, ole Silas help with da bottles.”

Taking the container of canned milk, Silas squeezed her hand and said quietly, “Sorry ta hear bout Mr. Davey, hes a fine man.”

“Yes, he was Silas.” whispered Sue. “Thanks for the help. I’ll go check the babies.”

Silas watched Sue leave the kitchen and head up the backstairs, the slumped shoulders signifying the great burden she was carrying. Nick stood in the nursery watching his sons as they slumbered in their cribs. ‘One life taken, two just beginning.’ beckoned his thoughts.

Looking up when Sue entered the room, the expression on her face twisted his gut. Picking her up in his arms, she clung to him, unable to maintain the check on her grief and the sobs wracked her body. Rocking his wife gently, Nick held her tightly offering all the strength in his body and soul to the woman he loved.

The next morning Sue woke, surprised to find herself in the bedroom and that only her side of bed had been slept in. Putting on her robe, she opened the door to the nursery and tears rose at the sight of her husband snoring on the sofa, twin boys asleep on his chest. Sitting in the chair, Sue put her elbows on her knees and her chin on her clasped hands. She stared intently at her three boys, locking the memory of this special moment forever in her mind and heart.

Two weeks had passed since the death of Davey Hinton. Gene still weak from the loss of blood and the wounds inflicted on him was recovering back at the ranch. His physical body was mending but the guilt of Davey’s death was overwhelming him. He felt he had not done all he could to save his friend.

Everyone had assured the guilt ridden Gene he had done what he could in the horrible situation that had been thrust upon him. Their words of reassurance did nothing to work through the walls he built up inside him. His mind would conjure up the nightmares that stole his sleep from him each night. The dark circles under his eyes, telltale signs from the war of emotions waging within him.

Christmas day was a somber affair at the Barkley household, only the presence of the early twin gifts was the bright spot of the day. When Victoria unwrapped the delicate imported silk shawl from France that Gene brought from Sacramento, the blood drained from Sue and Gene’s faces at the reminder of what the gift had cost them.

Gene abruptly left the room and headed outside. Jarrod jumped up to follow, but Sue stopped him. “No, Jarrod, I’ll go.”

“Sue, he won’t talk to you.” replied Jarrod quietly, relaying his brother’s avoidance of her since he returned home.

Sue shrugged nonchalantly, while her eyes were determined, “We’ll just see about that, won’t we?.”

“Jarrod, let her go. Sue may be what Gene needs.” stated Nick handing Colton to Heath.

Looking at his mother and receiving her nod of approval, Jarrod sighed and sat back down. Handing Dakota to Nick, she smiled slightly and headed to the foyer. Opening the door, she shrugged into her coat and made her way to where Gene was standing at the corral, staring but not seeing anything in front of him.

“How about some company?” asked Sue quietly from behind him.

Expecting one of his brothers, Gene stiffened at the voice, “I just needed some air and I don’t need any company.”

Laughing, Sue nodded, “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Well, you can go now.” snapped Gene the guilt twisting his innards, the pain of his inability suffocating him.

Sue’s anger had been kept on a short leash the past couple weeks. She was angry with the man responsible for Davey’s death and the injury to her Gene. Angry that no sign of Benson had been found again. She was angry for failing at her promise to Davey’s parents when she wired and he left Texas to start over in California. The promise to watch over their only son.

Gene’s tone of voice and dismissive attitude, like he was royalty and she a peasant, caused the ever present anger to boil over the top.

Sue kept the words to a low growl, “For a college boy, you’re not very smart. You should know by now nobody tells me what to do or where to go.”

“I didn’t ask you to come out here!” retorted Gene turning and facing her, the anger causing his body to shake, his blue eyes flashing.

“Yes, you did! You asked with those dark circles under your eyes and those nightmares you have every night. Hell, you won’t even hold your nephews!”

Gene felt her grab his arm when he stalked past her, intent on leaving the area and the conversation. Shrugging out of her grasp, Gene stood face to face with her and shouted, “I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU, UNDERSTAND!”

Staring into the pained blue eyes, Sue whispered, “Gene, I can’t lose you too. It’s not your fault! If you want to blame somebody, blame me.”

Gene stepped back and replied, “If I was strong like Nick or Heath, I could’ve saved him. But I’m not and now he’s dead. This has nothing to do with you.”

Chuckling, Sue stepped towards him and smiled, “Gene, if you hadn’t gone to Sacramento for me, you’d have been home already. Benson wouldn’t have seen you in Stockton or wherever he saw you. You wouldn’t have caught a ride with Davey to the ranch. So, you wouldn’t have been hurt and Davey would still be alive. Benson was associated with my stepmother. This has everything to do with me.”

Gesturing wildly, Gene replied sarcastically, “Nice try, I believe that’s called reverse psychology. It’s not gonna work with me! I know what happened and what I couldn’t do. When I see a gun, I see Benson hitting Davey! When I saw that present, I remember our conversation on the ride to the ranch! I can’t forget it, doesn’t anyone understand that.”

“How dare you Eugene Barkley! How dare you insinuate no one else remembers Davey when they see things! What right do you have to think that?” snarled Sue angrily.

“You remember the good things, all I remember is that I was there when he died and couldn’t stop it!” retorted Gene his voice rising with each word.

Squaring off, the frustrated out of control pair did not notice the audience that had formed on the front porch, concerned at the body language they had witnessed from inside the house.

“I remember a man who had a wonderful gift with horses, but couldn’t keep a girlfriend. I remember a man whose smile brightened the morning at the table where we gathered for coffee before working. I remember a man who thought of others before himself. These are the good things that I remember about Davey.”

“SEE, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND AT ALL WHAT I’M GOING THROUGH!”

Grabbing Gene by the shoulders, Sue shook him and shouted, “EUGENE BARKLEY, I REMEMBER THE DAY MY FRIEND DIED, MY SONS WERE BORN! DON’T YOU DARE SAY I DON’T UNDERSTAND!”

The air was still as the sound of the angry words punctuated the atmosphere and the hearts of all those within hearing range. Stunned, Gene was unable to reply and stared at the trembling, pale woman before him.

Pulling her into his arms, Gene let his tears fall and he tightened his hold when she tried to pull away, “God, I’m sorry. Sue, don’t think that, please! Don’t remember their birth that way, please don’t.”

Tightening her hold on him, she whispered, “Gene, we can’t turn back the clock. Don’t destroy yourself. You tried, Gene. You did what you could and that’s all anyone can ever ask for.”

After several minutes, Gene nodded, wiped his eyes and released his hold on her. Placing a kiss on her cheek, he sighed, “Just so you know, I haven’t held my nephews because their dad is always hogging them.”

Laughing, Sue wiped her tears and held onto his arm as they walked back to the house. “I’ll make sure you get a turn. Gene, promise me that you will talk to me or one of your brothers anytime you need to, okay?”

Agreeing, Gene hugged her again before they reentered the house to continue the holiday celebration in the gaily decorated house they called home, with a little less guilt shadowing their souls.

A tingling in the pit of his stomach told Eric Fletcher he had stayed too long in one place. Something told him it was a sign he had to stay in room thirteen, the only room that was unoccupied. He had a chill run down his spine when the desk clerk informed him of the room number. ‘Thirteen, why couldn’t it be seven?’ he thought grimly signing his name to the ledger.

Heading up the stairs, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. The bruises were gone from his unexpected violent confrontation with the youngest son of the Barkley family. The only sign of the fight was the lump on his nose from where it was broken. While it did not completely mar his good looks, it certainly did not enhance them.

A scar on his cheek would have been explained to a member of the lessor sex by a contrived story of heroism on his part. A broken nose would not give credence to any tale he spun. A broken nose is after all, only a broken nose. Nothing exciting in that, no tale could be spun to enhance that.

Laying on his bed, he went over the last year of his life and realized that once he had taken up with Ramona Bouvier, he had started down a path of self-destruction. Had he known the lack of profit from the plans they’d made, he would’ve turned tail and run from Ramona. But he hadn’t and now he was stuck, his money almost gone and nothing to show for his efforts.

The Barkley family, though battered from the events of the past year, had withstood and were as strong as ever, as rich as ever. Eugene Barkley lived though Davey Hinton had died from the newspaper account he had read. His palms itched when he thought of the money that was waiting in Stockton.

The thought briefly crossed his mind that perhaps he should cut his losses and run from California. ‘No, I’m not leaving without something to show for all my efforts. That damn Barkley luck has to run out sometime.’

Sitting at the table in the room, he poured a drink and stared out the window, pondering his thoughts. ‘Again, it all comes down to money. With that ransom money, I could leave this country and go someplace where I could set myself up in style. Money is the root of all evil or so they say. Guess that saying does apply to me.’

Smirking, Eric downed his drink and retired for the evening. Two days later, he was outfitted and back on his way to Stockton, specifically, the hill overlooking the Barkley ranch.

Fred Maden, Sheriff of Stockton and protector of the citizens was frustrated. He had spent the last weeks since the recovery of Davey and Gene tracking Eric Benson by means of paper trails and witness accounts.

He was frustrated as he was a man accustomed to tangible evidence, something he could see with his own eyes and feel with his own hands. Not chasing some papers down trying to find out where the man was when he saw Gene Barkley.

The diligent, tenacious sheriff was on his way back from Modesto where he had spent the New Year holiday with an old friend. Starting out on the trail back, his mind wandered over the case of Eric Benson and all he had gathered about the elusive criminal.

Deciding to utilize the ride to rehash the witness accounts, Fred pulled his notebook from his pocket and opened it. Scanning each of the accounts again, he stopped his horse and reread the account of the desk clerk at the Cattleman’s hotel in Stockton.

Squinting at the words written sideways in small letters on the margin of the page, he shook his head and mentally scolded himself. ‘If you wrote clearer, maybe you would have seen it before, damn fool.’

Putting the notebook back in his pocket, Fred spurred his horse back to Modesto. Reaching the train depot, he purchased a ticket and waited for the train which was due in twenty minutes. When the train arrived, Fred spoke to the engineer and then climbed in the stock car with his horse. The train moved out slowly and then picked up speed as it careened its way to the scheduled destination.

The screech of the brakes being applied slowed the train midway between Stockton and Modesto. Jumping down, the conductor opened the door of the stockcar, receiving a wave of thanks from the lawman as he jumped his horse onto the ground and galloped away before the train continued onto its final destination.

Fred stopped in front of the white columned house and knocked on the oak paneled door. Silas opened the door and stepped back to allow the lawman to enter. Taking off his hat, Fred shook hands with Jarrod and followed him into the study.

“When Harvey checked Benson in, he mentioned Benson wrote down San Francisco as where he was from, but he had a Manteco newspaper in his hand. Benson even remarked he had just come from Frisco. Manteco is the other way from San Francisco on the rail line. I bet he’s there or close by.”

“Fred, why don’t you just wire the law there and ask?” inquired Jarrod confused as to why Fred felt he needed one of the Barkleys for identification.

“They don’t have any law there.”

“What happened to Sheriff White? I thought he was the sheriff there.”

“Sheriff White resigned shortly after Nick was kidnapped. He had a problem with the mayor’s wife.” replied Fred with a slight smile.

“Oh, he didn’t get along with her?” asked Jarrod.

Chuckling, Fred shook his head, “No, he got along too well with her.”

Laughing, Jarrod nodded, “I see.”

“I’d like two of you to come with me to Manteco. One should be Eugene, since he saw Benson in a beard and mustache. The other could be you, Nick or Heath. All three of you saw him when he was clean shaven. I have the likeness that was drawn of him, but seeing someone in person is better.”

“Heath and Nick won’t be back for a couple days. They’re in Nevada inspecting a new mine. I’ll let Mother know, then Gene and I will get ready to go.” said Jarrod heading to the door. “Have a drink while you wait, Fred.”

Forty minutes later, the three riders left the Barkley ranch headed to the town of Manteco, their hopes pinned on a man’s reading of a newspaper. Reaching the small town of Manteco in the afternoon, they dismounted in front of the hotel and walked up to the desk. The clerk looked up and smiled widely.

“Rooms for you gentlemen?”

Fred shook his head, “No rooms just some information.”

Seeing the silver star on the man’s vest, the clerk nodded, “I’ll help if I can, sheriff.”

Pulling out a brown paper containing a likeness of Eric Benson, Fred handed it to the clerk and asked, “See anyone around here that may fit that picture?”

Studying the paper closely, the clerk nodded “Could be room thirteen. Mr. Eric Fletcher.”

Jarrod and Eugene proceeded to the stairs, stopping at the clerk’s voice, “He left two days ago.”

“Eric Fletcher.” mumbled Fred wondering if that was indeed his name. “Did he say where he was going?”

Thinking back, the clerk replied, “No, he didn’t say any towns. When I asked when we could expect him again, he did mention that he had to collect some money from an old friend and wouldn’t be back in this area after that.”

“Sue.” stated Gene and Jarrod rushing out to their horses.

“Wait!” shouted Fred. “Let’s wire Billy, he can warn your family.”

Riding to the telegraph office, Jarrod and Gene waited outside while Fred sent the wire.

“She’ll be okay, Gene.” stated Jarrod squeezing his little brother’s shoulder.

“We shouldn’t have left, Jarrod. Not with Heath and Nick gone, that man is heartless.”

“Gene, there’s a whole crew of men there. Benson won’t get close to her.” said Jarrod, his voice sounding more positive than he felt at this moment.

With the wire being sent, they rode back to Stockton and straight to the Barkley ranch.

....Continued