After lunch, Nick brought his saddle over next to the fire and leaned against it as he watched with a smug smile, his brothers futile attempts to hook anything over ten pounds. He held out his hand when they finally gave up and came over to sit by the roaring blaze. Heath pulled fifty dollars out of the pouch in his vest pocket and handed it over as Jarrod got out his wallet and counted out the other fifty with a rueful grin.

"Well brother Nick, we can't say you didn't earn it."

"Yeah, but the best part is, I've got this great story to tell everyone when we get home."

They spent the next two hours just talking and reminiscing about past adventures they had had together and things they had seen and done. Nick's brows lowered in a scowl as his brothers took great delight in recounting some of his less than satisfactory romantic adventures. The fire was dwindling down and the air turning cool when they decided it was time to head home.

They got back just after four and dismounted in front of the barn. Nick took Jarrod's reins, unhooked the bag of fish from his saddlehorn and nodded towards the house.

"We'll take care of your horse and clean the stalls if you'll clean the fish."

Jarrod took the heavy sack and grimaced, "all right, but supper's going to be awhile."

He walked away and his brothers led the horses into the barn and pulled their saddles off. Nick leaned on the partition between the stalls and grinned widely. "I gotta' tell ya Heath, that lawyer may not be much of a cowboy, but he sure knows how to fillet a fish."

"Yep, and don't tell him I said so, but he's a pretty fair cook too." Heath squeezed past his horses side and headed for the barn door. "If you finish up in here, I'll go chop some wood. There wasn't much left in the wood box this mornin'."

He had just started to pull the door open when a large hand reached over his shoulder and slammed it shut again. The other hand grabbed his arm and turned him around.

"I don't want you choppin' wood Heath, I'll do it after I get the horses settled.."

The tan Stetson dipped as Heath dropped his head and scuffed the dirt with the toe of his boot. He sighed and shook his head. "Nick..."

The hand tightened on his arm, "I said I'll do it, you just..."

Heath looked up and his mouth set in a stubborn line as he stared into his brothers eyes. "Nick, I thought we agreed that ya weren't goin' to molly coddle me."

Blue eyes held hazel for a few seconds before Nick dropped his hand from the door, tapped the brim of the cowboy hat and gruffed out a warning. "All right, but don't over do it. Just do enough to stock the wood box and I'll do more tomorrow."

"Yes boss."

The black gloved hand swatted at him as he went out the door laughing. "Smart alec brother."

Nick watched him swagger over to the woodpile and take his shirt off before yanking the axe out of the chopping block. The muscles in the broad shoulders and arms rippled as the axe rose and fell with steady rhythmic strokes and he thought, 'how can someone so big and strong be ...' he couldn't say the word and shook his head as he went back inside to finish his chores.

He cleaned the last stall and threw each horse a couple of flakes of hay before going out and leaning on the corral fence. He watched his brother place another log on top of the tree stump they used for a chopping block and quickly split it in half, then quarters.

Nick knew Heath enjoyed chopping wood, he said he found it a good way to relax when he had something on his mind and needed to think it through. Nick had seen him split wood for hours on end and never get tired. He himself didn't find anything relaxing about it but he had to admit, it was a good way to work off his temper when there was no one around to yell at.

"Hey Heath," he left the corral and latched the gate then walked over and eyed his brother's sweat soaked body. "That's enough for now, you go in and get cleaned up and I'll stack this in the wood box and throw some under the boiler."

Heath picked up his shirt and nodded, "sounds good. Maybe I'll have a bath while we're waitin' for Jarrod to get supper ready."

Nick grunted and stood up with an armful of wood, calling out to Heath as he strode across the yard and stepped onto the porch.

"Tell him to hurry up, I'm ..."

"STARVIN', I know!" He opened the kitchen door to find Jarrod had just finished cleaning the fish.

"Supper won't be ready for at least another half hour Heath."

"That's good, I'm gonna' go take a bath then." He hung up his hat on the peg behind the door and headed for the hallway. "Oh, by the way, Nick says to hurry up, he's..."

Jarrod banged a large skillet onto the top of the stove. "Starving. I know."

Heath bathed quickly and was just pulling on his shirt when the sudden pain made him sit down on the edge of the bed and start rubbing his chest. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he clutched the footboard and whispered through clenched teeth. "Not today, please not today."

The bottle of pills was in his shirt pocket and he shook one out and put it in his mouth then sat there holding his breath, waiting to see if the pain got worse before he called Nick. He looked out the bedroom window and saw his brother picking up the last of the wood and bringing it to the house. The pain finally started to ease off a bit and he decided not to say anything. They didn't have much time to be together and just relax and have fun. No, he couldn't ruin it for them. He heard the kitchen door open and the sound of wood being dropped into the box beside the stove before footsteps started down the hall.

"HEATH?... HEEEATH!"

He bit his lip, took a deep, steadying breath and stood up slowly as the footsteps approached the bedroom door. His back was turned and he was buttoning his shirt with trembling fingers when Nick appeared in the doorway and waved his hand at him.

"C'mon, what's takin' ya so long? Supper's on the table, let's go."

Heath swallowed hard trying to keep his voice steady, "I'm almost ready Nick. You go ahead, I'll be right along."

"Ok, but hurry up before that big ol' trout gets cold waitin' on ya."

The footsteps receded and Heath sank back onto the bed, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep.

Nick stood at the bedroom door a few minutes later and smiled before crossing the room quietly, taking the blankets off his own bed and spreading them over his soundly sleeping little brother. Heath could have his trout tomorrow for breakfast and Jarrod could give up one of his nice thick comforters tonight.

It was just past eleven o'clock and Nick and Jarrod were sipping a particularly fine Irish whiskey and playing chess. Nick had been slouched in his seat when he heard the scream in his mind.

"NIIIIICK!!!"

He stood up suddenly and headed for the hallway, Jarrod's raised eyebrows telling him that he hadn't heard anything in the quiet room.

"Where are you going?"

They heard the crash just as the voice screamed in his mind again.

"NIIIIICK..."

He came down the hallway early the next afternoon and crossed his arms as he leaned against the door jam leading to the livingroom and glanced around.

"Where's Nick?"

The quiet voice startled him and Jarrod put down the book he had been staring at for the last hour and sat forward in his chair.

"I thought you were asleep." He stood and looked over at his brother with a frown, "you shouldn't be up, you should be in bed resting."

"I'll be resting for a good long time soon enough, now where's Nick?"

Jarrod's stomach dropped at the bluntness of the matter of fact statement. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat before he answered. "He went for a walk, said he wanted to be alone."

Heath straightened up wearily, "the last thing he needs right now is to be alone."

He crossed the room with long strides, plucking his hat from the peg in the kitchen and settling it on his blond hair with a quick tug as he pulled the door open. Heath turned to him and shook his head, "I don't intend to talk if he doesn't want to." He squinted at the snow capped mountains in the distance, "but I promised him I would always be by his side and that's where I'm going to be."

Jarrod's brows lowered in a frown and he tightened his grip, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be going out Heath, you should be in bed."

"Don't try to stop me Jarrod."

The determined look in the steely eyes staring at him made Jarrod drop his hand and Heath went out and closed the door firmly. Jarrod went back to the livingroom and stood at the window watching him make his way down the path to the stream. He hadn't gone to the barn to see if Nick was there or headed in any other direction, it was as if he already knew where he would find his brother.

Jarrod felt a moment of envy as he realized that while he had grown up with Nick and knew him, Heath understood him, knew instinctively what he thought and felt and what he needed.

He waited until his younger brother disappeared from sight around a bend in the path before returning to his chair and picking up his book. He read the same paragraph a dozen times before dropping the book on his lap and lifting his eyes to stare into the fire, remembering with startling clarity the night before.

"HEATH!!"

The door slammed back against the wall as Nick threw it open forcefully, his frantic eyes seeing the empty bed and darting around the firelit room, searching.

Jarrod looked in the room, then started down the hall, "I'll check the bathroom."

He returned a moment later to find Nick had turned up the lamp on the bedside table and was kneeling on the floor between the beds frantically checking Heath's pulse before going through his shirt pockets as he lay curled on his side unmoving.

"HIS PILLS AREN'T HERE, CHECK ON THE BED!!"

As a lawyer, Jarrod had always prided himself on his self control and ability to act under pressure while keeping a clear head. But, as he watched the nightmarish scene in front of him, he found himself rooted to the spot, unable to do anything to help until Nick looked up and shouted at him, his voice filled with panic.

"MOVE!!"

He gave a start, then pulled himself together and turned to yank the blankets off the bed. The small bottle of pills was lying up near the pillows where they had fallen out of Heath's pocket as he slept and he snatched them up quickly.

"I found them."

"GET ONE OUT."

He tried to turn Heath over onto his back so he could see what he was doing but, with the way he was wedged up against the side of Nick's bed with his knees bent, it was proving an impossible task in the cramped space.

He raked his hand through his hair in frustration, "we gotta' get him outa' here."

Jarrod moved to help but Nick waved him away as he stood up, moved out from between the beds, grabbed both ankles and dragged his brother out into the open before picking him up and laying him on the bed. Heath's usually tanned face was chalky white, his eyes tightly closed and both hands pressed hard against his chest. He tried to roll onto his side and pull his knees up as he fought to take a pain free breath and Nick sat on the bed and pinned the straining shoulders down as he looked over his shoulder and barked at his brother.

"GIVE ME A PILL!"

Jarrod's hands trembled as he took the lid off and handed Nick one of the pills. He laid his hand on his brothers shoulder and watched him pull Heath's lower lip down with his thumb and press the pill against the tightly clenched teeth.

"Open your mouth Heath."

His voice was low and soothing as he pressed on the lip harder trying to get the teeth to open enough to push the pill in. "Come on now little brother, it's gonna be all right, just open your mouth for me. The pain won't stop unless ya take your pill, now come on."

A small moan was his only answer as Heath took a quick shallow breath and held it as another wave of pain hit him. Heath's hands were now clutching at his chest desperately, his face a twisted mask of pain.

Nick's voice rose as the seconds ticked away and Heath's teeth remained firmly closed.

"YOU OPEN YOUR MOUTH BOY!!"

Nick knew he had to do something fast. He let go of the lip and grabbed the sweating face in his hand, his thumb on one side and fingers on the other as he squeezed on the cheeks at the hinge of the jaw as hard as he could until the teeth were forced open enough for him to slip the pill under the tongue.

Jarrod sank down on the bed behind him and Nick's voice returned to it's soothing tone as he started rubbing his hand up and down the blue clad arm.

"It's gonna' be all right Heath, just try to relax. I'm right here and the pain'll be gone soon. Just listen to my voice and come back to me, I'm right here beside ya."

Over a minute had gone by and the pain wasn't easing off as Heath's breathing became more laboured and his lips started to take on a bluish tinge.

Nick stopped rubbing the arm and spoke urgently as he held his hand out, "it's not working, give me another pill."

He forced the jaw open again to get the pill in, then wrapped his fingers around one of the hands Heath still held pressed against his chest. Jarrod's heart was pounding in fear as he listened to Heath's short, panting breaths. When they stopped suddenly, his eyes darted to the white face.

"HE'S NOT BREATHING NICK!!"

Nick quickly let go of the hand he was holding and placed his fingers on Heath's neck. The pulse was there, weak, but still there. He could feel the muscles hardening with tension under his hands and he grabbed Heath's shoulders and looked into his face. The tightly closed eyes and quiver in the clenched jaw told him what his brother was doing.

"He's holding his breath."

"WHY??"

Jarrod watched him give Heath a shake as he answered gruffly, "because he says it doesn't hurt as much if he doesn't breath when the pain is real bad." He shook him again, "Heath, you need to take a breath."

"NIIIIICK...HELP ME!!"

The dark haired cowboy recoiled as the terrified words slammed through his mind, accompanied by a great rolling blackness. He knew then that Heath couldn't fight back by himself this time, he couldn't make himself take a breath ... knew he was too afraid of the pain to breath. Nick gritted his teeth and raised his hand and slapped his brother's face hard.

"YOU TAKE A BREATH HEATH!"

Jarrod reached over and grabbed his arm in horror, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING NICK?"

The hazel eyes flashed and the deep voice hissed out an answer made all the more serious by the quietness of it. "If he doesn't get some air soon he's gonna' die and I don't intend to let that happen. If ya can't take it, then get out of here."

He shrugged off the restraining hand and raised his arm again, the sound of the slap echoing around the room.

"You better listen up Heath and breath."

Nick could feel his brother slipping away and he slapped him again, his voice rising, demanding and pleading at the same time.

"DON'T DO THIS TO ME HEATH ... DON'T YOU DO THIS ... I PROMISED MOTHER I WOULD BRING YA HOME SO YA BETTER TAKE A BREATH BEFORE I BEAT YA TO DEATH!"

He had laid his other hand on top of the one Heath was still pressing against his chest and his shoulders slumped when he felt it start to rise and fall again. He took a deep, quavering breath then bent over, one arm on each side of the blond head, forehead resting on the pillow, his lips close to his brothers ear as he started quietly murmuring encouragement to him.

"That's the way little brother, one breath at a time. Ya gotta fight Heath, fight hard. You're gonna' be all right, I'm here and I'm not gonna' let ya go. You hang on now, ya hear? Remember ya said ya wanted to go with the wind and the sun on your face? Well that ain't here and it ain't now." He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and his voice became rough, "don't you leave me, not yet ... I'm not ready."

Jarrod's eyes filled as he listened to the soft words. He knew under the loud, gruff exterior, Nick had a tender, caring side that he rarely showed to anyone outside his family. He had seen him nurse an orphaned kitten around the clock with an eye dropper, the little ball of black and white fluff cradled in his big hand as he coaxed the milk into the tiny mouth and, even though he had pretended it didn't matter to him, Jarrod knew he had gone to his room and cried when it died. That was the side of Nick Barkley that people who thought they knew him rarely ever saw. That was the side he was seeing now and it made his heart ache to know there was nothing he could do to make things right for him.

Minutes passed and Heath's laboured breathing started to even out, the blue tinge fading from his lips. Nick heard the change, straightened up slowly and smiled as the blue eyes opened a bit and he lifted his hand and gently ran his thumb back and forth over the angry red mark on Heath's cheek.

"Is the pain going away?" Both brothers breathed a sigh of relief at the small nod. "Ok then, I want ya to take a deep breath and try to relax for me. Can ya do that?"

Heath nodded again and took a deep shuddering breath. They sat quietly for a time, everyone too drained to say anything as they watched the lines of pain recede from Heaths face and his breathing become easier. It was over an hour before he finally had the strength to reach up and grip the back of his brother's neck weakly and gave it the little shake that was so familiar.

"Thanks Nick."

The words were barely more than a whisper but the lop sided grin that accompanied them meant everything to Nick and he smiled, shrugged and gruffed out a reply. "You're my little brother and it's my job to look after ya remember? Besides, we both promised Mother ya were comin' home and it wouldn't be right to lie to her ... now would it?"

Jarrod broke the tension in the room by patting Heath's leg and nodding at Nick, "our brother here learned the hard way what happens when you lie to Mother."

Nick looked over his shoulder at him and glared, "all little boys lie to their mother's so don't make out like you never did anything wrong."

"I never got into anywhere near the amount of trouble you did growing up." Jarrod's eyes twinkled and he tilted his head at him, "how many wooden spoons did she break on you over the years?"

Nick scowled and waved his hand at him, "never mind about that."

A log falling in the fireplace brought Jarrod back to the present. They had helped Heath to the bathroom, then got him undressed and into bed. He had fallen into a deep sleep right away and Nick had built up the fire and pulled a chair up close to the bed. Jarrod offered to take the second watch, but Nick shook his head, telling him in no uncertain terms that he had no intention of moving from the chair he was in or going to bed so he might as well go to his room and get a good nights sleep.

Jarrod got up in the night to check on Heath and found Nick leaning forward, forearms on his thighs, staring at his brother ... almost as if he thought he would suddenly disappear if he took his eyes off him. He stood at the door silently and watched Nick pick up Heath's hand and spread the callused fingers out against his own before wrapping them in both his hands and lifting them to rest against his mouth.

Jarrod rubbed his stinging eyes and sighed. He didn't think he had the strength to go through something like this again. It had been the longest ten minutes of his life. Watching helplessly as Heath teetered between life and death, those few minutes had felt like an eternity. How many times had his brothers been through that together? How long had they carried that constant fear around with them? A few days ago, Nick had told him that he didn't, couldn't, understand how he felt about losing his brother. He had been right ... until now.

Heath walked slowly towards the bend in the stream and stopped for a moment when he rounded it. He knew he would find him here - it was where they came to sit and watch the sunset. He watched him sitting on the big , flat rock at the waters edge, his black hat tossed on the grass beside him as he aimlessly threw pebbles into the fast moving current.

Nick wasn't surprised when he felt the strong fingers squeeze his shoulder. Heath swung his leg over the rock and sat behind him, leaning against his back, long legs stretched out on each side of him. The brim of his tan Stetson shaded their eyes from the lowering sun and he wrapped his arms around his brother and rested his chin on his tense shoulder. He laid his cheek against Nick's and spoke to him gently.

"You all right?"

Nick dropped his eyes. There was no time or need for pretence or lying anymore and he shook his head and answered quietly.

"No."

Heath tightened his arms around him and pulled him back against his chest. "Lean on me for awhile then big brother because God only knows I've spent enough time leaning on you these past few months."

They sat for a long time in silence as the sun dropped lower, the wind in the pines and the churning of the rushing water the only sound breaking the stillness around them. Nick was trying to keep all the anguish he had been feeling for weeks now, inside. Heath had enough to worry about right now without him adding to it. As they sat there, the words to the poem he had read came back to him.

'The Thousandth Man he's worth 'em all, because you can show him your feelings.'

For him, Heath was that thousandth man and he knew he could tell him what was on his mind, what he was so afraid of. He lifted his legs and wrapped his arms around his knees as he settled back more comfortably against the solid chest behind him, the warmth emanating from it bringing him comfort.

"Ya know what bothers me the most little brother?"

Heath rubbed his hand up and down the grey clad arm and shook his head. "Tell me Nick."

"I guess it's that I'm gonna' miss having ya to talk to. Won't seem right not havin' ya there to argue with me." He paused for a moment in thought, "ya know Heath, when ya manage to rub more than two sentences together at a time ya can get pretty feisty."

He could feel the rumble of laughter through his back and it felt good. He liked to make his brother laugh, it didn't happen often enough to suit him and it was such a joyful sound, so full of life. Until he came to them, Heath hadn't had much to laugh about in his life and Nick would never forget the sound of it, the rarity of it making it all the more precious to him.

The broad shoulder behind him lifted in a shrug, "ya can come and talk to me anytime ya want Nick, it's not like I'll be able to get away from ya." He slapped the black clad knee to let Nick know he was funnin' with him, "I figure you'll be comin' around chewin' my ear off for the next fifty years anyways."

The dark head dipped and Nick spread his hands and shrugged, his rough voice telling Heath he was getting upset. "I can't go riding to Strawberry every time I want to talk to ya Heath."

Heath pulled back and looked at his brother's profile in confusion, "what are ya talkin' about? Why would ya ...? He grabbed Nick's shoulder and turned him enough so that he could look into the sad hazel eyes. What he saw there had him shaking his head quickly.

"No Nick, no!"

Hope flared in the glistening eyes watching him and Heath closed his eyes briefly as he realized that Nick had been suffering needlessly because of the mistake he had made. He should have told him long ago.

"I guess I just assumed you'd know that I would want to be near ya, that I would want to be buried on the ranch. It's my home, it's part of you and me. My mama would understand, she has Aunt Rachel and I've arranged for Hannah to be with her too when her time comes. Mama always said it didn't matter where we were because we'd always be together in spirit. She would want it this way. I believe that Nick."

Nick swallowed hard and searched the blue eyes holding his, "you'll stay...you won't leave me here alone?"

Heath laid his forehead against his brothers and rasped out the words that reached into Nick's heart and banished his most dreaded fear.

"I'll always be by your side Nick, always ..."

Victoria sat on the window seat in front of the French doors in the living room and listened to the grandfather clock in the foyer striking seven as she stared out into the gathering dusk.

Silas stopped at the entrance to the room and watched her for a moment before crossing the room and setting the silver tea service down on the marble table in front of the fireplace.

"Mrs. Barkley?"

His quiet voice startled her and she realized she had been so lost in thought that she hadn't heard him enter the room.

"Yes Silas?"

"I brung ya some tea and biscuits ma'am, y'all didn't eat much supper tonight."

Her eyes never left the road leading to the house and she answered distractedly, "that was very thoughtful of you Silas, thank you."

He poured a cup of tea and brought it over to her. "Here ya go Mrs. Barkley, nice and hot, just the way ya like it."

"Thank you, Silas." She took it from him and wrapped her hands around the cup to warm them.

He saw her shiver and hesitated a moment before speaking gently, "it's cold here by the winda', why don't ya come over by the fire where it's warm, ol' Silas can keep a watch out for 'em."

She rested her head against the window, her voice filled with worry. "They should have been back by now, Nick told me they'd be home today ... something must have happened."

Silas could see her eyes filling with tears and realized that she had been sitting here all this time thinking and imagining the worst. He shook his head and tsked as he sought to reassure her. "Now Mrs. Barkley, if Mr. Nick say they be home today, then they be home. It prob'ly ain't nuthin' mor'n Mr. Jarrod holdin' 'em up. Y'all know's how he don't like to get up real early."

She took a sip of the tea and snatched at the excuse."You're right Silas, they probably had to wait on Jarrod. Even if they manage to get him up early, he always takes forever making sure everything is in order and closed up tight before he leaves the lodge."

"That's right ma'am, and Mr. Nick, why he be fussin' and stompin' around, yellin' at him the whole time."

Victoria could see them so clearly in her mind, "and my Heath will just sit down somewhere with that little smile on his face and wait patiently until they're ready to go."

They both looked out the window at the sound of hoof beats approaching and Victoria handed Silas her tea cup as she got to her feet and hurried to the door. He set the cup down on the piano and followed her out onto the veranda where she stood, her hand pressed against her mouth and tears in her eyes when Jarrod came through the big iron gates alone. He pulled up in front of her and twisted around in his saddle to look behind him. Nick and Heath came loping into sight around a bend in the path and Victoria picked up her skirts and ran to meet them.

Heath leapt off his horse without even pulling him to a stop and in two quick strides he had picked her up and twirled her around before setting her down again and crushing her to him.

"Mother."

She wrapped her arms around him and looked up into the blue eyes she thought she'd never see again. All the tears she had been holding back for the past five long days spilled over and she reached up to cup his cheek gently.

"Heath."

She laid her head on his chest and he held her tightly as Nick sat and watched them for a minute, his throat tight, before he dismounted and walked over to stand behind her. He squeezed her shoulders and dropped a kiss on her hair and bent to whisper in her ear.

"I brought him home Mother, just like I promised."

She was too emotionally spent to do anything except close her eyes and nod. Heath looked up when Nick reached out and touched his arm lightly. Their eyes met over their mother's head and Heath nodded as Nick silently mouthed.

"Don't tell her."

He led CoCo and the pack horse over to where Silas was holding Jingo and Chargers reins while Jarrod untied both horses saddlebags and pulled them off.

The elderly servant beamed with pleasure when Nick greeted him with a slap on the back. "Hello Silas." He took the reins from him and asked, "Audra and Carl not here?"

"I sho' am glad to see ya back Mr. Nick." Silas took the saddlebags Jarrod handed to him. "Miss Audra and Mr. Carl went home 'bout five, figured since ya wasn't home by then, y'all had decided to stay away another day. They be back tomorra'. Now y'all must be hungry. I'll go fix ya some supper, won't take but a minute."

"Thanks Silas, we'll be right in once we put these horses away."

He looked over to where Heath was still holding his Mother. "Let's give 'em some time." He handed Jingo and the pack horses reins to Jarrod and started for the barn."C'mon, ya can get those lily white hands dirty and help me with these horses."

Nick and Heath were out and gone early the next morning, anxious to get back to work. They walked into the bunkhouse at five thirty and were immediately surrounded by a dozen ranch hands, all slapping them on the back and shaking their hands. They had been almost as worried as Victoria when the brothers hadn't returned on time.

Mike looked Heath over with a jaundiced eye,"for a man that's been doin' nuthin' but lazin' around, relaxin' and fishin' for the last five days, ya look a little the worse for wear."

He grabbed Heath's chin and turned his head from side to side, "how'd ya manage to get these bruises?"

Heath pulled away, assumed his best poker face and answered seriously. "Nick punched me."

All eyes in the room narrowed and swung to center on the man standing across the room pouring himself a cup of coffee. Nick slammed the pot down and scowled, his hand waving at his brother.

"I DIDN'T PUNCH HIM!!"

They all gave him a suspicious look and nodded agreement when Steve eyed him and muttered roughly, "ya better not have 'cause boss or not, you'll answer to us."

They turned away and started gathering up their gear for the days work. Heath walked out with them and Nick could hear him telling them that his brother hadn't really punched him, he had gotten the bruises riding through some trees where the low lying branches had whipped back into his face. Nick smiled to himself when he heard the shared laughter as his brother regaled them with Nick's fish story. He was secretly pleased that the men cared about Heath so much that they wouldn't let ANYONE hurt him.

There had been a time when Heath first came to live at the ranch that the men wouldn't have given him the time of day. They resented him and didn't hesitate to let him know through word and deed what they thought of him. Oh, there were a few who had accepted him right away, Charlie, Mike, Steve and Jesse, men who had been here when Tom Barkley was still alive, who could see so much of Tom in the son, the same walk, the same eyes, the little familiar gestures - but mostly it was the laugh. Like Nick, they could have sworn it was Tom the first time they heard it, that sound alone telling them more than any words could that Heath was indeed a Barkley.

It had taken Nick a long time to realize that he had been responsible for the men's dislike of Heath. They had taken their cue from him, treated Heath as he treated him, with anger, dislike and a total lack of respect. Heath had taken it all and more for over two months, never once giving up trying to win his brothers respect and approval. He gave everything and asked for almost nothing in return, all he wanted was for this man who hated him so much to be his brother and his friend ... to accept him.

Nick took a sip of coffee and remembered the exact day that it had all changed for him. It had been the day Evan Miles had shot Heath. He remembered that day like it was yesterday, the fear that gripped him as he tried to stop the flow of blood pouring from the gunshot wound, knowing that Heath would have died if the bullet had of been an inch the other way. It was that day that he finally admitted to himself what his heart and mind had known for awhile ... that Heath was his brother and he wanted him, needed him in his life. He didn't know how or when, but Heath, with his quiet ways, and infinite patience had somehow wormed his way into his life and, as he watched him work tirelessly from sunup to sundown without a word of complaint, Nick had gained a measure of respect for the young man. That respect had gradually turned into like and somewhere along the way, that like had turned into love.

....Continued