A number of Heath's dearest friends came forward to honor him and when they were done, Father Davies looked towards Nick and asked if anyone else had anything they would like to say. Victoria watched him standing beneath the tree so still and silent and her heart begged him to come forward and say something, anything to acknowledge what Heath had meant to him.

She had just about given up hope when she saw him start to walk forward slowly. He came to a stop and Victoria held onto Jarrods arm tightly and leaned her head on his shoulder as Nick knelt down and placed his hand gently on top of the burnished redwood casket.

He spoke his thoughts silently, they weren't for anyone else to hear.

'Hey little brother, I wasn't gonna' come ya know.' He mentally shrugged, 'guess I figured if I ignored it, then it wouldn't really be happening. Besides, I couldn't stand the thought of them putting ya in this cold dark ground. I know how much ya hate small, dark places after the mines, Risley and Carterson...'

The very word evoked images of the horrors he knew Heath had been put through there. He pushed them away and rubbed his hand over the satiny wood.

'But I finally told myself that it's only your body that's here, that ... that your soul, that part of you that made you Heath Barkley, has left and is flying free somewhere ...'

He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed the lump in his throat, 'I have to believe that Heath ... I have to or I'm not gonna' make it.'

A single tear splashed onto the red roses his mother had picked from her garden and placed on top of the casket, her message of love to her youngest son. Nick stared at the flowers then lifted his hand to his mouth and used his teeth to loosen his black gloves. He pulled them off slowly and laid them beside the roses.

'Something to remember me by Heath.'

He rested his forehead on the polished wood for a moment, his lips moving in a soundless quote.

One man in a thousand, Solomon says,
Will stick more close than a brother.
And it's worth while seeking him half your days
If you find him before the other.

'I found him Heath, it took a long time, but I found him.'

He stood up and Father Davies looked at him and reached out to touch his arm, "is there anything you'd like to say Nick?"

There was so much he wanted to say and couldn't, so he closed his eyes and said all that he needed to say. All the love and heartbreak he carried inside expressed in the few clear words that he spoke, words that said everything.

"He was my brother."

Victoria's tears spilled over as she watched her son take a shuddering breath and lovingly caress the deep redwood top for a moment before he turned away and went over to his family. He hugged his mother hard, then stepped back and picked up her hands.

"I have to go Mother. I can't stay here and watch them ..." He shook his head trying to explain his feelings. "They're going to put him ... and I can't ... I can't ..."

She reached up to cup his cheek, her heart aching at the lost look in his eyes. "I know Nick, and I do understand." She dropped her hand. "You go now, but just remember, we'll always be there for you when you need us."

"Please understand Mother, I have to get through this my own way." He hugged her again and nodded to Jarrod, Audra and Carl before walking out the gate and mounting his horse. He sat there for a minute saying goodbye to his brother, then wheeled his mare around and rode away.

He laid his head against the door jam and looked out into the clear, cool night sky with unseeing eyes, shredding pieces of straw and throwing them away, over and over, mindlessly. He had ridden for hours, wandering aimlessly across the ranch, trying not to think because thinking only made the hurt worse. If he could keep his mind and body numb the pain wouldn't be so bad, it wouldn't be able to take over and tear him apart.

When he had gotten home just after eight, Jarrod had come out and met him at the corral. He had put his arm around his shoulder's and asked him to walk with him a bit.

"I want to read Heath's will tonight Nick, it won't get any easier if we wait. Mother agreed with me and as Audra and Carl are already here, it seems like a good time."

Nick shook off his arm and turned to face him, "fine Jarrod, but I won't be there."

"Nick..."

The dark head gave a negative shake and he went over and crossed his arms on top of the corral fence. "No Jarrod, I can't do it. It's too much, I can't handle any more right now. The past few months ..."

Jarrod heard the catch in his voice and went over to stand beside him. He tilted his head and considered his brothers profile before speaking. "All right Nick, how about if I just tell you now what he left you?" He leaned on the rail beside the dark brooding man and waited for the small nod before proceeding.

"He was very specific about what he wanted when we talked this over. He had thought everything out very clearly, looked at every angle. He was a smart man our brother."

Nick glanced at him, hearing the admiration in his voice before he turned away to stare across the corral again.

"First off, I'm not going to list the smaller things, the personal momentos. I'll just give those to you later."

Nick gave a quick nod and scuffed his boot through the dirt, looking down at the trench he was digging.

Jarrod took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "As you may have guessed, he left you his horse and, in his own words, I quote, 'and he damn well better not use those spurs on him!' unquote."

He didn't get the chuckle he had expected as Nick just kept his head down, not saying a word. "He also left you his fishing rod."

Jarrod touched his arm and when Nick lifted his head to look at him, he hooked his thumbs in his vest pockets and indicated with a jerk of his head that he wanted Nick to follow him.

They walked down past the paddocks until they were out in the open whereupon Jarrod stopped and Nick stood with his hands on his hips and scowled at him, "why are we out here Jarrod?"

"Because Nick, this is what Heath left you." He swept his arm across in front of them, "he left you ... this. The land. The land that you and he have sweated, laughed, nurtured and worked for. The land you both love."

The hazel eyes looked at him in confusion, "don't you mean he left it to all of us Jarrod?

"No Nick, I mean he left his share of the ranch all to you. Like I said, our brother was a smart man. He wanted the Barkley Ranch to stay together, just as it is. His share now gives you controlling interest simply because we all know Mother will vote with you. She'll never let any part of this ranch go, she and Father worked too hard for it. Heath wanted to make sure you own two-fifth's of it and he wanted it that way so no part of the ranch could be sold without your permission."

Nick shook his head and shrugged, "none of us would ever sell our share so why would he feel the need to do that?"

Jarrod looked at him with raised eyebrows, "because brother Nick, all those times you made fun of him for reading my, 'dusty old law books', he was learning a thing or two. Like the fact that if something, God forbid, happens to Audra, Carl inherits her share of the ranch. The same with Mother, her share would be divided between us and therefore Carl would inherit that through Audra too. Now, even though Carl's our brother in law and we think a lot of him, there might come a time when he'll want to sell his share. Heath made sure that wouldn't happen. He also knew I had no interest in running this ranch, so he has left all his stock and any profits from the ranch and all our other interests to all of us, divided equally, which is another incentive to keep this ranch growing."

Jarrod reached over and squeezed his arm, "Heath also left you his share of the sock money and he told me to tell you to buy something YOU really want with it."

Nick looked up at the clouds scuttling by the bright disc of the moon and heaved a sigh. The sound of crickets chirping brought back painful memories of the last time he had sat here in the open mow doorway shredding straw and trying not to cry. He was trying desperately not to cry this time too and his hazel eyes searched the darkness again, just as they had that night - looking for answers that weren't there.

The difference tonight though was that he was alone, there was no familiar presence by his side, no one there to listen patiently to him, no quiet voice offering him comfort ... no Heath.

He lifted his legs and wrapped his arms around his upraised knees and the tears slid slowly down his cheeks.

Victoria spent the next day in her room, doing what she had longed to do for nearly four days. She went to her closet and removed from it's box the ugliest hat she'd ever seen and sat on her bed holding it close while she read the beautiful, loving letter Heath had written to her.

"Dearest Mother,

Have I ever told you how very much I love you? How very privileged I've been to have had two such wonderful and loving Mother's in my life? You helped make me the man I am today and I thank you for it. You didn't have to accept me or love me Mother, but you did, right from the start, and you can't know how much that meant to me..."

There were two pages, pages that were full of her son's loving thoughts, feelings and happy memories. Reading it made her feel like he was there with her and when she was done, she laid down and cried until there were no tears left.

Jarrod had given her the letter the night before and she had put it aside while she consoled Audra who had decided to read hers right then and there knowing she would need the comfort of her family around her afterwards. He went up a little after three to make sure she was all right. He stood outside her door for a moment listening and when his light knock wasn't answered, he opened the door and went over to the bed to find she had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. He watched her for a moment, she looked so pale and fragile, not like the strong resilient woman he knew and he picked up a quilt and gently spread it over her, bending to drop a kiss on her silver hair as he removed the letter from her hand and placed it on her night table.

"Sleep well lovely lady."

He made his way back downstairs and stopped in the foyer. Audra and Carl had stayed over night after the reading of the will but Victoria had insisted that they go home this morning. She wasn't up to any company, family or not, all she wanted was to be left alone for awhile, to not have to be strong for once.

Nick hadn't come in that morning until after one but was once again out and gone before anyone else was up. Silas had gone to town to pick up the mail and Jarrod found the silence in the big house deafening. With his mother upstairs sleeping, he was as much as alone in the house and he listened to the ticking of the grandfather clock and thought, 'this isn't the same silence as before. This is different'. Before it was an expectant silence, a warm, welcoming silence, as if the house was just waiting for it's occupants to return and fill it full of life again. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but now it almost seemed as if the whole house was as sad as the people who lived in it, the life had gone out of it ... it felt cold and empty.

"Mr. Jarrod?"

He turned to find Silas approaching him from the back hall carrying a small wicker basket that he set on the foyer table.

Jarrod looked at the contents and raised his eyebrows. "What's all this Silas?"

The dark eyes opened wide, "why it be the mail Mr. Jarrod. I never seen so much of it b'fore! Mr. Perkins over the telegraph office done stopped me and give me a whole bunch of telegrams to bring back so's he don't havta' ride out here again t'day."

Jarrod wasn't surprised, word of Heath's death had travelled fast, to the surrounding area by word of mouth and further by the newspaper article published Monday morning. The Barkley family was influential and well known and the story was front page news. Jarrod picked up a few telegram's and read them. Some were from friends and acquaintances who lived too far away to make it to the funeral while others were from people Nick and Heath had met on one of their many and varied buying or selling trips. All said what a fine young man he had been and they were saddened by the news. He dropped the papers back in the basket and picked it up.

"I'll take these to the library Silas and go through them before my mother comes down."

"Yes sir Mr. Jarrod." He had seen how much the telegrams that had come in the past few days had upset Mrs. Barkley and knew her son would just tell her who had sent them without her having to read them. "I'll bring y'all some coffee in a few minutes."

"Thank you Silas."

Victoria took a supper tray in her room that night and Jarrod had Silas prepare him some sandwiches to eat at his desk in the library. He had read his letter from Heath after checking on his mother that afternoon and was secretly glad no one was around, the words alternately making him laugh and cry in turns. Heath had known him much better than he had ever thought. As he had told Nick, their brother was a smart man.

The sound of the door opening at nine thirty had him swivelling his chair around from where he had been contemplating the darkness outside the windows. He watched Nick cross the room, pour a healthy measure of whiskey and knock it back quickly before pouring another.

"Where have you been?"

Nick's hand jerked at the unexpected voice behind him - he had thought he was alone. He gulped down his drink and poured another, slamming the crystal decanter down before turning around and crossing his arms.

"Where do ya think I've been?"

When his brother didn't answer, Nick waved his hand towards the window, "I've been out running this ranch, that's where I've been. You seem to forget there's a lot more work for me to do now."

Jarrod sat forward and clasped his hands on the desk, he could tell by Nick's belligerent stance that he was just looking for a fight. He had no intention of getting into a confrontation with him though, so he just nodded at the piece of paper sitting on the edge of the desk.

"There's a telegram there for you."

Nick stared at him for a moment then crossed to the desk and snatched the paper up angrily, the printed words bringing back his promise to Heath. No, he couldn't think about it, it was much too soon, he needed time.

Jarrod watched his face turn pale before he crumpled the telegram and turned to him with fury in his eyes, his voice a low growl as he asked, "did you send her a telegram?"

"No."

"Then how did she find out?"

Jarrod shrugged and spread his hands, "I would imagine she read it in the paper, although I think YOU should have sent her a telegram and told her yourself."

Nick tossed the crumpled up ball on the desk and leaned his hands on the surface, his face close to his brother's, his deep voice guttural. "I don't need you telling me how to run my life councilor. You wire her and tell her not to bother, I've got enough to deal with already, I don't need that too."

He slapped his hands on the desk, straightened up and strode across the room with long angry strides, slamming the door as he went out.

Jarrod picked up the paper and smoothed it out, reading the words again:

"Dear Nick, I am so sorry to hear about Heath. Please accept my condolences and know I am thinking of you and your family. If you want me to come, I can be there by the fourteenth. Love, Layle."

He sat back in the leather chair with a sigh, knowing his brother felt he didn't deserve to be happy now, knowing he intended to punish himself for something he had had no control over.

He read the telegram again, seeing the date she had wanted to come and realizing that was what had upset Nick more than anything.

Slim had just finished saddling the big bay when Nick came out a little later than usual the next morning. The rest of the men stopped what they were doing and watched the dark look that came over his face as he barked at the tall, lanky cow hand.

"WHAT DO YA THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Slim shrugged and looked at him in confusion, "we figured you'd wanta' ride this big guy today so I thought I'd get him ready for ya."

Nick glared at all of them, his fists planted on his hips, an angry scowl on his face, "I DON'T PAY YOU MEN TO THINK. NOW UNSADDLE HIM AND TURN HIM OUT."

Slim looked over his shoulder and hurriedly started to undo the cinch, "turn him out where Nick? Ya want him in with the remuda horses?"

"No." He lowered his voice and looked around while he waited for Slim to get his saddle off the horse, "put him in that paddock over there." He waved his hand at the enclosure on the far side of the barn, "and I don't want anyone touching him from now on. Ya just feed and water him, that's it, ya hear me?"

The men looked at each other warily and nodded as he snatched his saddle from Slim's hands and started for the barn. Steve reached out and grabbed his arm when he went to go by him, pulling him to a stop, "that's the finest cutting horse in this valley Nick, ya don't intend to leave him out there do ya? Heath wouldn't have wanted that."

Nick wrenched his arm away and his lips set in a hard line, "don't question my orders." He looked around at the rest of the men who were standing around in groups and shuffling their feet, "get to work all of you."

He came out of the barn fifteen minutes later leading the grey mare and issued the days work assignments before mounting up and riding out alone.

Charlie looked at Mike and Steve and shrugged, "we all better stay out of his way for awhile I'm thinkin'."

"Yep." Mike watched him gallop away and nodded, "I reckon it's gonna' be a rough road for quite a spell without Heath here to settle him down."

The days passed with everyone going their separate ways, Victoria spent all of her time in her gardens or at Audra's while Jarrod immersed himself in a complicated case and didn't come home from his office in town until suppertime each night. Nick threw himself into his work and never arrived home until very late, always missing the meal, leaving Victoria and Jarrod to share the dining room alone every night.

She was waiting in the kitchen for him one night knowing he never used the front door anymore, as a matter of fact, she had hardly seen or heard him since the day before Heath died. He came in and threw his hat on the table when he saw her, the closed look on his face precluding any pleasantries she might have offered.

"Nick. Audra and Carl are coming for supper tomorrow and I expect you to be here. Am I making myself clear?"

"I have work to do Mother ..."

"You will be here for supper Nicholas."

Her tone and the look in her eyes told him it wasn't a request and he nodded sharply before going up the stairs.

He arrived home the next night with just enough time for a quick wash before entering the dining room and throwing himself into his seat with a muttered greeting to his family. The conversation around the table was stilted and forced, the usual light hearted banter and arguing that used to accompany a family meal gone. Victoria and Audra drifted into talk about a fundraiser for the orphanage while Jarrod discussed his latest case with Carl. Nick sat there silently, trying to get through this ordeal, his mind miles away as he thought about the strays he had seen in the hills that morning. He absentmindedly moved his arm to nudge the one that was always beside him.

"Hey Heath, we better round up them ..."

The sound of cutlery dropping had him looking up to find everyone staring at him with a mixture of shock and sadness, his mother pale and trembling. It was then that he realized what he had said and he slammed his chair back and left the room as Audra burst into tears and Jarrod went to his mother and put his arms around her while Carl tried to calm his wife down. It was the last meal Nick would eat in the dining room for a very long time.

He laid on his bed staring at the ceiling, just as he had done every night for the past two weeks, willing sleep to come and knowing it wouldn't until the early hours just from sheer exhaustion. He was running on two or three hours a night, dragging himself out of the house before anyone else was up just so he wouldn't have to see or speak to anyone more than he had to. He knew what he was doing, but couldn't stop himself. Everywhere he looked reminded him of Heath and it hurt more and more every day, knowing he would never have him riding beside him again, never hear that quiet voice again over the chess or checker board, at the pool table or sitting together by the fire relaxing after a hard days work, talking and laughing.

Today was going to be an especially bad day, a day when he definitely didn't want to be anywhere near this house, didn't want to hear his mother or Audra crying. He finally gave up on getting any sleep and slipped down the back stairs and out to the barn, saddling his horse and leading her out to the yard. A quiet nicker had him looking across the paddocks to see a dark shape standing in the pre dawn gloom watching him over the fence. He turned away and hauled his weary body into the saddle, ignoring the lonely nicker that followed him as he rode off.

Nick made his way to Sky Meadow taking the long way around, making sure he gave Lookout Peak a wide berth, unable to go anywhere near the canyon physically or emotionally, the pain of what had happened there too raw and real, keeping him far away from it - keeping him from remembering all the good times.

He ended up at the cemetery hours later, sitting beside the black marble headstone. It was the first time he had come here since ... the thought skittered away. He had to come, today of all days ... he had to.

"Hey little brother, I come to talk to ya. Remember ya said I could always come and talk to ya and you'd listen? Well I been tryin'. Every day and every night I been tryin'." He held his hand over his heart, "but you're not here." He ran his hand over the marble, it was cold and hard, like his heart was becoming, "where are ya Heath? Ya said you'd always be there for me when I need ya and I need ya now."

His only answer was the fluttering of the willow leaves in the wind and his heart grew colder and harder.

Victoria stopped her buggy a short distance away and watched her middle son sitting with his arms wrapped around his legs and his dark head resting on his knees. She knew he would come here on this day, how could he not? It was his brothers birthday and they had always spent it together.

Her heart ached as she watched him, he was growing so far away from everyone and everything he loved and she didn't know how to help him. He had said he needed to get through it in his own way, but that way obviously wasn't working and she didn't know what to do. All she knew was that this was far worse than when his father had died. Back then, he had screamed and raged, letting his feelings be known to one and all. This time though, he was retreating into himself, keeping everything inside, refusing to talk to anyone. Victoria watched him sitting there alone and realized what the difference was this time ... this time a part of Nick had died with Heath.

A sound woke him from the restless sleep he had fallen into just after midnight on this warm night in early June, his ears straining to hear in the silent room. It came again, soft and faint through the open window and he got up and went over to stare out across the darkened paddocks to the shadowy figure walking back and forth along the fence in the moonlight.

The big bay stopped and put his head over the fence, the sound of his lonely nicker drifting up to the equally lonely man standing at the window watching him.

Jarrod stopped at the open French doors in the dining room and watched his mother for a moment, sitting on the bench in her rose garden staring at nothing, an open book lying forgotten on her lap. He put a smile on his face, plucked a fragrant deep pink rose from a bush beside the doors and walked over to sit down next to her.

"Good morning lovely lady."

She gave him a wan smile and he picked up her hand and placed the rose in it gently. "A beautiful rose for a beautiful rose."

She wrapped her arm around his and laid her head against his shoulder with a sigh, "thank you Jarrod."

He tilted his head to look down at her, "want to talk about it Mother, it might help."

Victoria glanced up and met the understanding blue eyes watching her, he was so smart this oldest son of hers, he always knew when she needed to be alone and when she needed company. She thought for a moment, lifting the rose and breathing in it's delicate, sweet scent, trying to sort out what she was thinking and feeling before she spoke hesitantly.

"I don't know what to do anymore Jarrod, I don't know how to help him. I've tried to talk to him so many times, but he just brushes me off or gets angry and leaves. It's ironic isn't it, that the one person who could talk to him isn't here."

Jarrod rubbed her hand and shrugged, "I know Mother, and I've tried to talk to him myself enough times, but I just don't have the patience with him that Heath had, I end up getting frustrated with him when he tells me he's fine and to mind my own business."

Victoria took a shaky breath and straightened up, turning to look at her son intently, "oh Jarrod, he keeps saying he's fine, but he's not, you know he's not." The silver head gave a small shake, "it's been seven weeks Jarrod and I've hardly seen him in that time. He's getting so far away."

"I know Mother, but maybe he just needs us to back off a bit and give him some more time to get things straight in his head. We knew how hard this was going to be on him, Heath was his companion, his confidant, his best friend, his whole world and now he's gone and Nick hasn't been able to accept that yet. Let's give him awhile longer, there's really nothing we can do until he decides to come to us anyway."

She nodded and laid her head back on his shoulder. He could hear the tears in her voice as she whispered, "I never knew a house could feel so lonely. I miss Heath so much and with Nick gone all the time, I can hardly stand to be inside anymore." She sighed again, "as much as I was always telling him to stop shouting in the house, I would give anything to have him come through that front door again and yell, 'Mother!!'."

Jarrod patted her hand and pulled her close, "has he answered any of Layle's letters yet?"

"No. He doesn't even read them." She shifted uncomfortably, "he'll be angry, but I've taken the liberty of replying to her a few times - just so she doesn't worry you understand."

The blue eyes twinkled and he dropped a kiss on her hair, "oh, I understand Mother, and who says you can't correspond with a friend?"

Victoria smiled up at him, "my thoughts exactly."

She settled against him again and he cleared his throat, "I have to go to San Francisco next week for this trial I've been working on, why don't you come along? Nick's never home and I don't like the idea of you being here alone. I think it would do you good to get away for awhile, what do you think?"

Victoria thought about it for a moment, "I don't know Jarrod, I hate to leave Nick here alone."

He shook his head and stated quietly, "Nick's going to be alone whether you're here or not Mother."

She looked towards the barns to see Nick mount his horse and ride off and wondered where he could be going this early on a Sunday morning. "Let me think about it for a few days Jarrod."

"C'mon old boy, let's go see your friend."

Jesse led CoCo out of the barn and headed across the yard towards the far paddocks where Charger was standing in a corner dozing in the warm sunshine. He raised his head, ears pricked at the sight of his companion approaching, then gave a squeal and raced across to stand at the fence and nicker a greeting as Jesse lifted the latch on the gate and started to pull it open. The sound of hoofbeats approaching accompanied the angry voice of his boss as he pulled his grey mare to a sliding halt and dismounted.

"WHAT DO YA THINK YOU'RE DOIN'?"

Jesse closed the gate again and took a deep breath before turning around, "I was just gonna' ..."

The black gloved hand waved through the air, "I DON'T CARE WHAT YA WERE GONNA' DO, NOW PUT HIM AWAY!! I TOLD YA TO STAY AWAY FROM THIS HORSE."

As Nick's voice rose, Charger tossed his head and backed up nervously from where he and CoCo had been snuffling each other over the fence.

Mike was sitting on the porch of the bunkhouse, lazing his Sunday away when he saw Nick ride up and start shouting. He shook his head and got up wearily. This had gone on for long enough and after losing two of the newer hands to Nick's temper in the past week, he figured it was time to settle a few things. He had discussed the problem with Charlie and Steve first before approaching Jarrod one night after he had come home from his office in town. He wasn't surprised when Jarrod told him the whole family had been trying to talk to Nick and weren't getting anywhere.

Maybe it was going to take someone outside the family to get through to him. He strode across the yard, caught Jesse's eye and jerked his head towards the barn. "Put him away Jess and head on in, Cookie's got lunch almost ready."

Jesse nodded, ignored Nick and led CoCo back to the barn and Charger followed them along the fence until he ran out of room then stood there calling frantically until they disappeared inside the barn. He trotted back and forth along the fence, watching the barn door, just as he had been doing every day for nearly two months.

Mike grabbed Nick's arm as he turned to mount his horse and spun him around, "you hold on there Nick, you and me are gonna' have a little chat."

Nick tried to pull his arm free, "I got work to do and we got nothin' to talk about now leave me be."

"Oh yeah we do and you're gonna' listen to me one way or another." He dropped his hand when Nick brought his fist up and held it in front of his face, his voice menacing.

"I said we got nothin' to talk about, now you better drop it or ..."

"Or what? You'll take a swing at me?" He looked the black clad body up and down derisively, "the shape you're in right now, I reckon you'd have trouble winning a fight with a rag doll, but go ahead and hit me if that'll make ya feel better."

The older ranch hand crossed his arms and stood his ground. He could see that Nick was exhausted and weakened by lack of sleep and overworking. He wasn't afraid of the scowling man, he was as big and strong as Nick, ten years older than him, but lean and tough and he had helped guide the younger man when his father died. He wasn't about to back down, not if he wanted to save his friend. He silently wished Heath were here, he could have straightened his brother out with little more than a look and a few quiet words.

Nick slowly lowered his hand and shrugged, "all right talk then if ya have to, but don't expect an answer."

Mike turned his dark brown eyes towards the horse pacing up and down the fence line and nodded, "I want to know why you're tryin' to ruin that good horse. Why ya got him out there. Ya never even look at him never mind give him any care. Heath would never have left him to ya if he had any idea ya were gonna' do this. He set a lot of store by that horse, trained him himself from when he got him as a three year old. Hell, if I thought for a second you'd sell him, I'd buy him myself 'cause there ain't a finer horse in this here valley."

The hazel eyes flashed, "he's not for sale and he's just fine out there now drop it."

Mike pulled his hat off his dark blond hair and slapped it against his thigh in frustration, "HE'S NOT FINE, OPEN YOUR EYES BOY!!"

The rugged face took on a closed look and the lips thinned into a hard, stubborn line as Nick growled, "I don't know what you're talking about, he gets fed and watered and he doesn't have to work."

Mike grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the fence, pointing to where Charger was now standing in a corner, head down, dejection in every line of his body. "Well ya better take another look, he's miserable and lonely. See that trench there along the fence? That's from him running along there all day after we head out in the morning. He's used to going out to work every day Nick and he doesn't understand why we leave without him every day."

The big bay nickered softly and Nick turned away from the sight of the horse watching him with intelligent dark eyes, eyes that said he was as lonely as the man on the other side of the fence, a fence that kept them separate in more ways than one.

He hardened his heart and tugged his hat lower, his scowl deepening, "I have fence's to check, I can't be standin' around here all day yammerin' with you."

Mike pulled the reins from his hand, "I'm not done with ya yet. I've got a pretty good idea why you're doin' this Nick."

His fists went to his hips and Nick snapped at him, "I'm not listening to any more of what you think Mike now give me my horse and let me be on my way."

"No. It's Sunday and there's no pressin' need for ya to be workin' so you're gonna' listen to me if I have to hog tie ya."

Nick could see Mike wasn't going to give him his horse until he said his piece so he backed up against the fence and waved his hand, "all right, go ahead."

Brown eyes held hazel and Mike shrugged, "I think I know why ya won't let us put CoCo out with him. I think it's because in some strange kinda way ya figure if ya can't have your best friend with ya, then he shouldn't neither."

Nick stiffened and crossed his arms as Mike continued, "ya don't even know it, but ya want that poor horse to be as lonely as you are, to hurt as much as you do. You're blaming that horse for being here when Heath isn't."

"You're crazy..."

"Heath left ya that horse 'cause he cared about what happened to him and he'd be mighty upset if he saw what you've done to him."

Nick glanced over his shoulder at the cutting horse who had again begun walking along the path he had worn in the dirt. "I haven't done anything to him, he's fine."

"Well maybe ya better take a closer look. He hasn't been shod in near two months. His shoes are loose and he's carryin' so much toe now he's back on his heels and his legs are all filled up."

He finally handed the reins over and put his hands in his back pockets, "you're gonna' lame that good horse Nick and I won't stand by and let ya do it. I'm bringin' him out and shoein' him right now. Ya try and stop me and we'll be havin' that fight you've been itchin' for." He gave Nick a hard look, "and right about now I'd like nuthin' more than to beat some sense into ya."

Nick could see the resolve on Mikes face and nodded before mounting his mare and wheeling her around. "Fine, you shoe him but then ya turn him back out. He's my horse and I decide what I do with him, understand?"

Mike opened the gate and Charger raced over and put his head on the tall cowboys shoulder as Mike patted his neck heartily and slapped his chest before leading him out of the paddock and over to the barn. Nick watched them go with a closed, hard expression on his face, his mind refusing to accept what Mike had said. He wasn't punishing the horse, he just didn't need another one. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was Heath's horse and to him, he would always remind him of Heath.

A tiny voice whispered through his head, 'wouldn't you both be a little less lonely if you had each other, if you had something tangible that meant something to Heath and would bring him closer to you?'

He stamped the voice down viciously. Heath was gone and as much as he begged, he couldn't bring him back. How many nights had he lain awake trying to find him in his heart, trying to talk to him and getting no reply? No, he didn't want any more reminders of what he had lost and that horse was a constant living reminder.

He spurred his mare towards the distant pastures while his mother watched him from the dining room window. She turned back and went down the hall to the library where Jarrod was reading at his desk. There was a time on a Sunday afternoon like this when the room would have been filled with talk and laughter as the family got together after a hard weeks work.

Loneliness enveloped her like a shroud as she looked around the silent room then left quietly to go to her room and cry for both her lost sons.

....Continued