Pete outstripped the wind to get the doctor while Nick continued to coax Heath to rouse.

“Heath, don’t make me regret having brought ya on this drive, Little Brother. Come on! Rise and shine, boy!”

One concerned friend ran his hand across the listless man’s forehead. “He don’t feel warm Nick. That’s a good sign.”

“Not really. Doc Merar mentioned sumpthin’ ‘bout brain damage if the headaches got too intense.”

“Oh God Nick, d’ya think it could be that?”

A heavy-laden sigh accompanied a shake of the head. “I don’t know,” he said dejectedly before he craned his neck over the man’s shoulder to peer into the distance. “Where the hell’s that doctor?” he hissed.

“Ease up, Nick. Pete’s only been gone half an hour,” the man pacified with a soothing hand on the frantic brother’s shoulder.

Nick rasped his hand over his unshaven chin, his face paling at the thought of Heath having suffered a stroke. A jolt of adrenalin shot through his body at the sound of approaching hooves. He bolted upright and met with Pete and the doctor driving a wagon.

“Nick, this is Doctor Levin. I filled him in on the situation.”

Barely had the two men exchanged a handshake that Nick was ushering the doctor to his brother.

Kneeling down beside the comatose patient, Dr. Levin began taking the pulse before he delicately lifted the eyelids to study the corneal response to light. He was relieved to note the absence of ruptured capillaries that would indicate an aneurysm or stroke. He reached inside his medical bag and pulled out his stethoscope. He slid the sound receiver end underneath Heath’s shirt to listen to his heartbeat. Once done, he ripped the shirt open and applied his hands on the chest to probe for any fractured ribs. He groped his way down to the abdomen to feel for internal bleeding, pressing down on the liver and stomach while keeping a watchful eye on Heath’s face to detect the tinniest twitch of discomfort.

“Was he hurt physically in any way?” Levin queried as he proceeded to finger at Heath’s head.

“No, I checked. I thought...I thought maybe he could have been stung by a creepy-crawler, but found no bite marks,” came the broken reply from the anguished brother.

Dr. Levin checked Heath’s eyes once more. “Has he suffered any head injury in the past few months?”

“Yeah,” Nick tensed up at the question and began shifting his weight nervously from one leg to the other. “Over six months ago, he…well…he had his head bashed in real bad. When he woke up he couldn’t remember who he was.”

“Amnesia?”

“Yeah. That and something called apt…ap…he couldn’t speak proper.”

“Aphasia?” the doctor clarified.

“Yeah. That’s what the people who found him told us. He had to learn how to talk all over again. Then a couple of weeks ago, I found him and brought him back to help him remember his family, but every time he started remembering he got a pounding headache.”

The doctor looked up at Nick and frowned. “How long has he had those headaches?”

“About two weeks. His doctor gave him some medicine to take along in case he got them on the drive.”

The chilling silence that ensued prompted Nick to ask the dreaded question. “Doc, what is it? What’s wrong with my brother?”

The doctor hauled himself up and looked at Nick ominously. “The signs are indicative of a coma.”

Nick’s heart quailed at the news. “Coma!”

“From what I can tell from the preliminary examination, they’re no sign that he suffered a stroke.”

Taking a deep breath, Nick’s scrunched his eyes together to dam up the stream of tears rushing to his eyes. Guilt gripped his guts and started draining his heart of all its blood while the doctor continued with his grim diagnosis.

“Those headaches were symptoms that his brain wasn’t ready to assimilate all this new information it was fed all at once. When the pain reached a peak, the brain merely shut itself down. It’s a defense mechanism against any new aggression.”

“How…how long will…how long will he stay like this?” Nick stammered with fright, mentally psyching himself up for the worse possible scenario.

“Could be days, weeks even months or….”

“Years?” Nick finished.

“Could be.”

Nick’s head slumped forward in utter despair. Numb with grief, he turned away from the woeful faces staring at him. The men were aching to find the proper words that would alleviate the burden of guilt they knew Nick was shouldering at Heath’s condition.

“It’s all my fault!” Nick seethed, his eyes darkening as he vented his anger on a stick that he snapped in two with his bare hands. His chest tightened with resentment at his dumb idea to bring Heath on this drive, aware that his headaches would only worsen. Why didn’t he insist he stay back at the ranch? Why did Heath plead with him? ‘Damn those blue eyes!’ he cursed inwardly.

Nick turned back to the doctor who was checking Heath’s eyes. “What do we do, Doc?”

“Get him to a head specialist. There’s one in Sacramento. His name’s Doctor Albert Waverly. He’s done extensive research in brain ailments and if there’s one man who can give an accurate diagnosis of your brother’s condition, it’s him. I can only give you my opinion of what I see.

“Would he agree to make the trip here if we asked?”

“Maybe if the price was right.”

“Anything. Money is no object.”

“Okay, I’ll ask him.”

“Can I take him home?” Nick asked with a nervous gulp.

“Where is it?”

“Stockton. About forty miles down south.”

“If you travel by train and make him as comfortable as possible.”

“Sure. I can arrange to have a Pullman.”

Dr. Levin instructed two men to lift Heath’s body gingerly off the ground and carry him to his wagon. Nick had gone ahead to spread layers of blankets in the back of the rig to insure his brother’s comfort during the ride to town where he was to make arrangements with the station manager to hook a private car to the next Stockton-bound train.

“Once in town I will send a wire to your family doctor to inform him of your arrival.”

Nick and the doctor hopped in the back of the wagon where the careworn brother sat by his comatose sibling. John flicked the horses at a light amble and steered the wagon down the road under the concerned stares of the drovers who were instructed to proceed with the drive.

At the train station, John and Dr. Levin remained with Heath while Nick discussed the special arrangements with the manager. An hour elapsed before the engine pulled at the station, the Pullman already waiting to be hooked to the tail wagon. As passengers alighted the cars, Nick and John borrowed a backboard to carry Heath aboard the wagon were they laid him in a bed located in the rear compartment. The doctor ran one last cursory examination of the patient before he and John left Nick to make the trip back to Stockton with Heath.

As the train joggled along the track, Nick sat by his brother’s bed with his elbows resting on his things and his hands neatly folded over his mouth. As his bleary eyes dwelled on the peaceful face, he was suddenly gripped by a sense of foreboding that urged him to sear every feature on his memory.

He inhaled deeply and leaned forward to appeal to Heath’s inner soul in a gentle whisper. “I don’t know if ya can hear me, Little Brother, but know that I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let ya give up.” Tears filled his eyes as his mind roved back on the painful events of the last seven months. “I can’t lose you again, ya hear me Heath! I ain’t gonna bury you twice.”

Having been notified by wire, Dr. Merar was waiting with Victoria and Jarrod when the train pulled up at the station. No sooner had it come to a complete halt, that Jarrod and Merar hoped in the last car with a backboard to get to the comatose patient and his emotionally spent brother. The doctor gave Heath a superficial once-over before instructing the brothers to lay the insentient man on the board and carry him gingerly to the wagon waiting to drive him home.

“Where’s Audra?” Nick asked Victoria who walking alongside the stretcher with a hand on her blond son’s shoulder.

“She’s back at the house getting Heath’s room ready.”

Dr. Merar was waving people away on the platform to clear the way for the oncoming stretcher. They carefully slid the board in the back of the wagon, after which Nick sat by Heath and covered him with a blanket while Jarrod took his seat in the front with Victoria and Merar followed in his buggy.

The family stood in anticipation of a misdiagnosis of Heath’s condition as they watched Dr. Merar prod and poke his patient’s body. Nick fastened his stare on his brother’s face to detect the slightest twitch that the doctor’s blunt needle might elicit. Nick’s guilt gained ground with each passing minute of stillness. He could sense it infesting his mind and feel it gnawing at his guts. Just as was about to look away, he discerned a tiny facial twitch.

“Doc, I think he moved,” Nick informed excitedly as he sat on the edge of the bed to get a closer look. “Do that thing again,” he suggested to the doctor to verify his suspicion.

With the needle, Dr. Merar reapplied pressure on Heath’s big toe.

“There! D’ya see that?”

The doctor moved to the head of the bed to check Heath’s eyes. “ His pupils are still unreactive. Could be an involuntary spasm.”

All hopes were dashed to the floor upon witnessing another twitch flash across Heath’s face, proving true Merar’s assumption.

“He’s not responding to any stimuli I’ve subjecting him to.” He sighed heavily and gave a dejected shake of the head. “When is that doctor from Sacramento supposed to arrive?”

“Doc Levin wired before we left the station in Coveyville,” Nick informed.

“Hopefully you’ll receive his answer tomorrow morning.”

“Doc, is he….really?” Nick asked falteringly, gulping at the dreaded answer.

“It looks like a coma, Nick, but I’m still not sold on it. Could be a state of deep unconsciousness. A way for his brain to shut the outside world while trying to heal itself.”

“He was remembering Carterson the night before this happened.”

All heads jerked up and turned to Nick. “And got a killer headache as a result of it,” Nick finished without looking up at the shocked expressions.

“That explains a lot.” Howard rose from the bed and turned to the distraught mother. “I will check back on him early tomorrow morning. I’ll drop by the telegraph office and see if there’s a wire from Doctor Waverly.”

“Thank you, Howard.”

“You know that physician doesn’t come cheap, but he’s the best in his field. He studied under Alexander Bain who published highly acclaimed works on the senses and intellect.” He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and said smilingly, “You’re getting the pick of the crop.”

“Doctor Merar, is there anything we can do in the meantime?” Nick asked expectantly.

“Yes. Keep him hydrated by trickling a few drops of water mixed with sugar into his mouth. Massage his neck to trigger a gulp. Most importantly, make your presence known by talking to him. Avoid any grim subject, stick to topics that are reminiscent of good times, happy moments.”

“Sure thing, Doc.”

Victoria walked the doctor out the room and down the staircase to the front door.

“Victoria, get some sleep. Heath is in no immediate danger I can assure you.” He clasped her arm and squeezed it lightly.

She nodded and flashed a contrived smile. “I’ll try. Thank you again, Howard.”

“No problem. I’ll be here early tomorrow.”

Two days later, Dr. Waverly arrived in Stockton. The Barkleys had graciously offered the hospitality of their home for an unlimited duration at any asking honorarium. Upon request, Doctor Merar had filled him in on Heath’s medical history, which he pored over before his arrival. Waverly flinched at his discovery that the young man had survived Carterson.

Nick and Victoria ushered him into Heath’s room where Audra was dribbling a few drops of water into her brother’s mouth. Victoria made the introductions, after which the doctor sat on the edge of the bed to take Heath’s pulse and check his corneal reflexes.

“Has he moved in any way?”

“He’s been twitching. Doctor Merar said they were involuntary spasms,” Nick informed.

“Facial or otherwise?”

“Mostly in the face.”

“And his fingers moved a while ago,” Audra added.

Dr. Waverly nodded thoughtfully and rose from the bed. “Okay. I’m going to ask you to vacate the room while I conduct my examination. I realize you don’t know me and might feel uneasy in allowing a total stranger to treat your son, but I require total silence around me.”

“Of course, Doctor. We understand,” Victoria said with a touch of skepticism.

“You’re welcomed to wait out in the hall.”

“No. We’ll be downstairs in the living room.”

One by one, Victoria, Audra and Nick trickled out of the room. The concerned brother gave his blond sibling once last glance before closing the door. They climbed down the grand staircase just as Jarrod was returning from town.

“I dropped by Dr. Merar’s office and he told me that our guest had arrived?”

“Yes. He’s with Heath right now,” Victoria informed as she tucked her arm in Jarrod’s while walking to the living room to fix themselves a drink.

Upstairs, Dr. Waverly was drying his hands on a towel before beginning his unorthodox examination of his listless patient. “Hi Heath. I’m Doctor Waverly. Your family called upon me for a consultation on your condition. Now I’m going to talk to you throughout the examination so you’ll know what I’m doing to your body. Okay?”

Waverly perched himself on the rim of the bed and held the blunt needle in his hand while he continued his one-way conversation, “Now Heath I’m going to touch the tip of your fingers with my needle. Don’t worry, it’s dull. It won’t break the skin, but you might feel a prick.” He held one of Heath’s eyes open with his thumb while he applied pressure on his fingers with his other hand, swiveling his eyes back and forth to study any reaction Heath might be exhibiting.

Keeping his attention on the patient’s face, Waverly moved to the end of the bed to repeat his treatment with the feet, all the while speaking reassuringly to the young insentient man.

He then stepped up to the headboard to feel the back of Heath’s neck. He groped a strategic area that would provide him with a definite diagnosis on his condition, whether Heath had lapsed into a coma or just an advanced stage of unconsciousness. His answer came in the form of a facial twitch. “Oh! You felt that, didn’t you Heath?” He repeated the movement three times, each eliciting the same twitch.

Downstairs, a deafening silence had fallen between the family members as each coped with the endless waiting in their own way: Audra walked the floor while gnawing at her nails; Jarrod was sitting in an armchair, lost in his thoughts; Victoria was leaning by the window, staring blankly in the distance and Nick was standing by the fireplace, one hand leaning against the mantle while absently twirling his whiskey in his glass with the other.

Audra was first to catch a glimpse of Dr. Waverly coming down the stairs. “Doctor?”

Her call roused everyone out of their respective daze and all swarmed around the doctor.

“I have good and some concerning news,” he informed the overwrought family with a reassuring smile. “Heath has fallen into an advanced stage of unconsciousness; it’s approaching a coma but it’s not.”

A ripple of audible sighs of relief ran through the room.

“He’s showed distinct signs of perceptivity to certain stimuli. I talked to him during the procedure so he wouldn’t be traumatized by my prodding him.”

“But he can’t hear you,” Nick observed with confusion.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mister Barkley. I’ve found over the years in my research with comatose patients who have made full recovery with little brain damage that they can hear almost everything that’s being said around them. They explained that the sounds were muffled, that they couldn’t exactly make out the words, but that they felt the mood intents: whether it was anger, joy, sorrow. That’s why it’s very important to swathe the room in a serene ambiance. In your brother’s case it’s a must since his brain’s aware of his surroundings”

“So are you telling us that he’s gonna be aw right?”

“He should be. His advanced stage of unconsciousness is borderline to a coma and what we need to do is pull him away from the edge.”

“How?”

“Mostly by talking to him. We must will him back with joyful memories, blissful events.” He turned to Nick with intense interest. “I was told you’re the brother who shares a special connection with him, that you can actually feel when he’s hurt regardless of the distance that separates you?”

“Yeah. I can’t explain it. It’s just there.”

“I’m presently studying the phenomena with twin brothers. But to actually find it in non identical brothers who weren’t raised together is even more fascinating.”

“Doctor, you spoke of concerning news?” Victoria chimed in to draw the conversation back to the subject at hand.

“Your son will eventually regain consciousness. When, I’m not sure. It could be a few more days but we should see some significant movement by the end of the week. Now when he does rouse, it’s a possibility that he might not remember you nor any event prior to or following his accident.”

All eyes widened in alarm at the news of having to go back to square one.

“I shall monitor your son’s progress very closely in the next few days. We’ll deal with the problem of possible amnesia when the time comes.” He laid a hand on the distressed mother’s shoulder. “Mrs. Barkley, I wouldn’t worry too much. From what I read of your son’s past, having survived Carterson and all, I have no doubt he has an iron will to live. That helps in any healing process.”

“Thank you very much, Doctor. Your presence here is very comforting.”

“The brain is a very complex organ. We have yet to understand all of its functions. Our knowledge is still very limited but I’ve had a rare opportunity to work under Alexander Bain who’s an authority in the physical investigation of the mind. I later pursued my own studies in the neurological repercussions of brain traumas.”

“Can I go see him?” Nick asked.

“Sure. I insist upon it. I have a feeling you will be instrumental in willing your brother back. Speak to him as often as you possibly can. You can read to him or just talk to him as you would normally do.”

Nick nodded and strode up the stairs. He entered Heath’s room and padded up to the bed where he shifted a chair closer to his brother and sat.

As days wore on, Nick settled into a regular routine of working mornings and spending afternoons with Heath. He never wavered in his belief of a full recovery and worked hard at feeding Heath’s brain with memories of the ranch, his family, his friends, in hopes he would remember everything once he regained consciousness.

His efforts were rewarded on the fourth day, when one afternoon, a small moan escaped Heath’s lips.

Nick set the book down on the night table and leaned in closer to his brother. “Heath! Can you hear me?” he gently coaxed him awake with a tug on his shoulder. “Heath! Wake up!”

Heath blinked open his eyes and slowly tilted his head towards the voice.

Nick’s elated grin hung on his ear at the blue eyes staring back at him. “Hey! You’re back” Nick’s smile faded into a frown at Heath’s vacant expression. He rose from his chair and went to the door to call out to Victoria to get the doctor.

“Mother!” Nick shouted down the foyer. While waiting for her to appear at the bottom of the stairs, he glanced back at Heath whose eyes were sweeping the room quizzically.

“Nick, was is it?” Victoria asked in a fluster.

“Where’s Doctor Waverly?”

“I’m here, Mister Barkley,” the doctor said as he exited the parlor.

“My brother’s awake.”

Victoria hiked up her skirt and floated up the stairs alongside the doctor. Waverly sat on the bed while Nick stood beside him at an angle that allowed a clear view of his every move. Nick felt his mother’s hand tightening its grip on his arm as if to draw moral strength to withstand the worse.

“Hello there, young man,” Waverly greeted to will Heath’s attention to his voice. “I’m Doctor Waverly.”

Heath squinted his eyes and cocked his head. “Doc Merar sick?” he mumbled.

“Heath, you remember him?” Nick asked with a broad grin.

“F’course, Nick.”

“Doc, he knows me,” Nick said in a laughing smile. “He knows me.”

“Can you tell me your name?” Waverly asked Heath.

“Heath Barkley.”

Victoria gripped Nick’s wrist and heaved a sigh of relief.

“He’s awright, Mother.”

“Course I’m awright,” Heath said moodily, slightly confused as to what the fuss was about. He slowly raised his hand to his head and groaned. “I have one terrific headache.”

“Heath, what’s the last thing you remember?” Waverly queried.

Heath raked his fingers through his hair and sank his head into the pillows. He let out a thoughtful sigh as he began combing his mind of his last vivid recollection. “Cattle drive.” His face contorted with pain. “My head hurt bad. I took some of that powder and…” his eyes swiveled back and forth, “I don’t remember after that.” He scanned the room. “Why am I back in my room?” He turned to Nick with terror-filled eyes. “Nick, what happened to me?”

Nick glanced at the doctor who nodded his approval. “You fell into a deep sleep.”

“What?”

“We couldn’t wake y’up. We thought ya were in a coma. That’s why Doc Waverly’s here. He came all the way from Sacramento.”

“Coma?”

“Close. You were merely unconscious. Your brain didn’t appreciate all this strain you were putting it through.”

“How long have I been out?”

“A week.”

Heath’s eyes broadened in alarm at the shocking news. They swiftly caught sight of Victoria who took a step closer. “Mother?”

Nick huffed out a loud sigh of joy. “He called you Mother.”

“Oh my God, I remember,” Heath quavered. His heart was set aflutter by the realization that his memory of his past had been restored. He began to shiver in excitement; his heartbeat increased, his breathing came in short gasping pants.

“Easy there, young man,” Dr. Waverly mollified with a hand on Heath’s shoulder. “Take deep breaths.”

Heath followed the doctor’s instruction and attempted to regulate his respiration rate.

“That’s it. Slowly and deeply,” Waverly continued to coach his patient.

“Oh God! How long have I been there?” Heath asked between pants.

“Whatta ya talking about, Heath?” Nick asked with his eyebrow arched in a question mark.

“The family, the one that took me in while I was sick.”

“The Whitfields?”

“Yeah!”

“I’d say a good six months.”

Heath closed his eyes in utter despair. “I was this other guy…David.”

“That’s right.”

Heath’s eyes welled up with tears of joy. “Nick, I remember everything that happened,” he sobbed.

Nick flumped down on the edge of the bed and fell onto Heath’s chest to hug him with all of his might, his body shivering as he joined his little brother in tears. He pulled back to plant a brotherly kiss on Heath’s forehead. “Welcome back, Little Brother,” he said with a voice cracking with emotion.

Dr. Waverly glanced up at Victoria who wore the most blissful smile he’d seen in a while. He rose to his feet and met her glistening eyes. “I guess my job here is done.”

Victoria followed Dr. Waverly out of the room to leave both brothers alone to catch up on lost time. As they walked downstairs, Waverly assured her that he intended to indulge in the family’s hospitality for the remainder of the week to follow Heath’s progress.

Days wore into a week with Heath’s condition improving. Dr. Waverly returned to Sacramento with the brothers’ consent to conduct a future study on the nature of their special ethereal connection. Thereafter, the family contacted the Whitfields who agreed to travel to Stockton to discuss Heath’s recovery. Jim had prepared his wife for the shock that the man she considered her long-lost son was in reality Heath Barkley.

Ciego was sent to pick up the Whitfields and Olivia at the train station while back at the ranch, the family was putting last-minute touches on their appearances.

“Heath!” Nick shouted from behind the closed bathroom door. “Are ya still alive in there?”

“Yeah, I’m just about finished.”

“Well, hurry up! I need to use the water closet.”

A minute later, a wet-haired Heath emerged in a bathrobe with a towel around his neck. “All yours, Big Brother!”

The sight of Heath with damp disheveled hair hurled Nick back to a not-so-distant time where he and his little brother would compete for first dibs on the tub. He stood, numb with fear.

“Nick, what’s wrong?” Heath asked with a concerned frown.

Out of the blue, Nick pulled Heath into a brotherly clench, giving him two hearty claps on the back, before he disengaged the soul-stirring hug. “Never stop calling me that.” he gulped as he entered the bathroom and closed the door quickly before his tears started invading his eyes.

Heath stood motionless, shaken by the sudden outpour of emotions. He heaved a sustained sigh to recover his countenance, and then allowed a small lopsided smile to cross his face before he returned to his room to tidy himself up for the Whitfields’ arrival.

Moments later, Silas opened the front door to Jim, Georgia and Olivia and bade them enter. Heath, Nick, Jarrod, Audra and Victoria greeted them in the foyer. No sooner had Georgia laid her eyes on Heath that she edged up to him with teary-eyes. She stood inches in front of him to stroke his cheek before she pulled him into a warm hug. They clung to each other, shivering with emotions for a good minute before they pulled back and gazed into each other’s glistening eyes.

“Jim told me…Heath,” her voice faltered at the name she couldn’t utter without feeling a pang in her heart. She cupped his head to study his features. “I was so sure you were my David,” she wavered, her body racked with sobs. “I felt it in my heart.

“I know,” Heath quavered, his heart and soul falling prey to the emotions evading him. “You made me feel so welcomed. I felt safe. I felt love, genuine love.”

“Are you happy?”

Heath closed his eyes and nodded. Georgia smiled at his heartfelt answer and wiped the tears trickling down the corner of his eyes before she kissed his cheek. “That’s all that matters.” She looked over his shoulder at Victoria standing a few feet away, flanked by her children. She walked over to them. “And you must be his mother?”

They both hugged.

“You have a fine man.”

Victoria glanced up and Heath, her eyes reflecting deep adoration. “I know.”

Heath stretched out his arm for Olivia to clasp his hand. “Heath Barkley, you now truly know who you are?” she asked smilingly.

“Yeah,” he sighed. He clasped her other hand and gazed tenderly into her gleaming blue eyes. “Olivia Grant, will you marry me?”

Her bottom lip started trembling as the overwhelming rush of emotions gushed to her throat. With tear-clouded eyes and a beaming smile she whispered, “yes.”

They sealed their lifetime engagement with a tender kiss that everyone cheered.

“Let’s break open the champagne! We’re going to a wedding!” Nick enthused.

During the weeks preceding the wedding, Nick and a few ranch hands lent Heath a hand with the construction of his new house. He and Olivia had mutually agreed to remain on Barkley land, a few yards down the main house, as he wished to stay close to the family he came close to losing.

As he was hammering away at fixing the shingles to the roof with Nick, Heath’s mind would rove back on the events of the past months. An occasional wistful smile would flicker on his lips as he recalled his big brother’s unrelenting efforts to bring the lost sheep back to the flock, regardless of the many obstacles he encountered along the way. He pledged to enfold his children in the same unconditional love that he had been fortunate to know with the Barkleys.

On this bright and sunny June day, the wedding was at hand. While guests were filtering downstairs, up in Heath’s room the nervous bridegroom was fiddling with his necktie in front of the large mirror. Surprisingly enough, he managed to knot it in a perfect fit. He was admiring his work when Nick entered, looking dashing in his tux.

“Ah! The famous tie.” Nick walked over to Heath and heaved a despairing sigh at what he thought would be a disaster. “Here, let me fix it up for ya.”

Heath turned around and flashed him a contented grin. “It’s all done, Nick.”

“What? Can’t be! That’s not supposed to be. The bridegroom can’t do his own tie, it’s against tradition!”

To humor his big brother feigning a pout, Heath pulled on his necktie and titled his head backwards. “Awright Nick, it’s all yours.”

“That’s better.” Nick cracked an amused smile at his brother as he performed his task. “Nervous?”

“A little bit.”

“How many times have ya been to the water closet in the last thirty minutes?”

An embarrassing smile flickered on Heath’s lips before he answered sheepishly, “Three.”

Nick broke into a guffaw and pulled Heath into a bear hug. “I’m proud of ya, kid.”

“Because I went to the water closet three times?” Heath chuckled.

Before Nick could elaborate on his thought, Victoria entering the room interrupted the two brothers. The two men stood in awe before their enthrallingly beautiful mother walking up to them to clasp their hands.

“Are you two ready? The ceremony is about to start.”

Both Nick and Heath gave each other a quick once-over before heaving a sustained sigh. “I guess we are,” they chorused.

Nick gripped Heath’s shoulders and stared him in the eyes. “You be happy, Little Brother. You need help, you just holler and ol’ Nick will come running.”

“Thanks Nick, but I think I can handle the honeymoon by myself,” he teased with a wink directed at Victoria.

“Love ya, Heath.” Nick brushed a playful jab on Heath’s chin before he walked out of the room to allow the mother a few moments with her son.

“How’s Olivia?” Heath queried.

“She’s fine. A little nervous but what bride isn’t?”

Heath smiled and lowered his head shyly. She cupped his chin to meet his beaming blue eyes. “She’s a wonderful girl, Heath,” she said with genuine sincerity. “This mother’s intuition tells her that you both will be very happy together.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t ever forget that we love you, that we will always be here for you regardless of the odds.”

“You’ve proven that in the last year.”

“You can mostly thank your brother Nick for that. He hurt so much, and no matter how hard we tried to reason with him, he refused to bury you. He was convinced you were alive, somewhere ”

“I’m happy Mrs. Whitfield took my real identity so well. Any word on Jarrod’s investigation?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. But I’m sure they’ll find something.”

“I sure hope they’ll find him.”

“I hope so too. I know how agonizing it is for a mother not knowing if her son is alive or dead. Georgia wants closure and hopefully, Jarrod will provide it for her.”

“Did I hear my name being spoken?” Jarrod said on a slightly teasing tone as he entered Heath’s room.

“We were talking about your investigation into David Whitfield’s disappearance.”

“Ah, well, you’ll be happy to know that we’re making great headway. This morning I received a telegram from Frank Weston at the Pinkerton Agency. They believe they have a lead.”

“Jarrod that’s wonderful,” Victoria gushed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I was going to after the celebration. I don’t want to say anything to the Whitfields yet in case it’s another dead end.”

“I understand.”

Jarrod presented his arm to Victoria. “Shall we, Beautiful Lady?”

She draped her arm over Jarrod’s. “Lead the way, sir.”

They crossed path with Nick under the doorway. “Nick, he’s all yours,” Jarrod said with a pat on his brother’s shoulder.

“Ready Little Brother?”

Heath took a lungful and exhaled. “Yep!”

“You wanna make a last trip down to the water closet?”

“No, I think I can hold ‘till after the ceremony.”

“You’re a brave chap,” Nick teased. With hazel eyes gleaming with admiration, he stared into his brother’s blues and wished him all the best in the world. “Remember, I’ll always be there for ya.”

Heath pursed his lips to retain the emotions from rushing to his throat. “Thanks.”

“Come on! Let’s get you hitched.”

A few minutes after taking his place at the altar under a rose-adorned arch in Victoria’s prize garden, Heath set his sights on a vision of loveliness. His breath caught in his throat as his blushing bride was escorted up the red-carpeted aisle on her proud father’s arm. As their beaming gazes locked, the world faded into a hazy background until Olivia’s dad handed her hand over to the nervous bridegroom with an approving nod.

Heath’s best man, Nick, stood close to the basket case for mental and, perhaps if needed, physical support. He was the second man to kiss the bride once the couple was pronounced lawfully wedded man and wife.

The ceremony was winding down to a few close friends when Heath whisked his bride off to the station to board the Denver-bound train for their honeymoon.

While the couple was on their month-long honeymoon, Frank Weston came through in the investigation of David’s disappearance. The agency located the Heath Barkley look-alike on a ship sailing the Mediterranean. The young man had been shanghaied and forced to slave aboard the old tub for the last four years. Many were the times David tried to escape or summon someone’s help in contacting the authorities, but without any luck.

Today was different. Thanks to the events that occurred in his native land during the past year, David was now a free man. The skeletal survivor of a hell on sea was greeted by Jarrod and Nick at the Morganville train station and then driven to his parents’ ranch for a tearful reunion.

A year later, Olivia gave birth to a bouncing baby boy that the proud parents named David Nicholas Barkley. No hard feelings lingered between the former couple and David proved it by agreeing to become the child’s godfather.

And so was their destiny………