"Those grapes with need harvesting again next season. The job is yours if you're back this way."

"Thank you, Mr. Barkley." Corso nodded politely.

"Nick. It's Nick."

Heath's brow rose in surprise, and he looked aside to catch Jarrod's eye. Jarrod nodded subtly and returned watchful eyes to the exchange.

"Ah, yes. Nick." The Gypsy accepted the outstretched, gloved hand with a genuine smile, and Nick's face broke with a grin of relief.

"Next year then!"

The man nodded his agreement and moved as to urge his mount forward, but Nick held the reigns.

"Don't you think you should wait until the others can send for you. One man alone…"

"I may be getting older, but I think I can still sit a horse and find my way by the stars, Mr. Barkley." The Gypsy's face sobered, and his tone was edged with irritation.

Jarrod and Heath exchanged cautious looks. Perhaps the truce was too good to be true.

"Oh, I know. I know." Nick was quick to acquiesce. "It's just…you know how some people…" He stumbled and gave up. "Keep a sharp eye, is all." He released the reigns of the horse he'd insisted Corso accept as an overdue bonus for his family's work.

"That I will, Mr. Nick. That I will." The easy smile and atmosphere of friendship returned, and Corso snapped the reigns, urging his mount forward.

"Say hello to…" But it was too late and probably for the best. …Ah, well. Nick watched the mounted form until the colorful tunic blurred into the landscape.

"Well, brother Nick, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Jarrod stepped forward, slapping a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Nick's eyes cut toward his older brother with a scowl. "Don't gloat, Pappy. It doesn't suit you." He slapped his black hat against his thigh and then lovingly smoothed the brim before pushing back his unruly locks and forcefully returning the hat to his head.

"Wouldn't think of it." The teasing quirk of a smile remained, but the hand on his shoulder gentled. Much like when they were boys and Nick had been chastened by their father for finishing the fight someone had started on the church lawn or been rebuked by their mother for the torn knees in yet another pair of new trousers, the look in Jarrod's big-brother eyes said, "I told you not to do it, and you really ought to know better," but the hand on his shoulder told him, "It'll be all right little brother. It's over now, and I'm here."

Heath watched as the look between his brothers wrote unspoken volumes between them. It was a history he hadn't been around to see but appreciated none the less. He smiled, glad to be here now to bear witness and to be made a partner in the bond.

By the time Nick had made his way home, Corso had healed enough to be on his way, and Nick had went directly and seen it done in his usual to-the-point and no-holds-barred way. Now it was time to get back to work. Against his will, he wondered if Pilon would come with the family next season. …If she did it would be with her new husband. What was his name? …Ion? Yeah, Ion.

Nick sighed heavily, oblivious to Jarrod's watchful eyes. It could never be said that Nick ever did anything part way. As when he had acted upon his false assumptions concerning the migrant gypsies in their employ, Jarrod had seen him many times barrel a hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction, having stubbornly set his mind. They'd had their own share of fistfights through Nick's teen years. He remembered rolling in the mud and muck, trading blows and trying to bash some sense into that thick skull. And then Nick would see him stumble under the force of a well-aimed punch. "You okay, Jarrod? You okay?" The hand that moments earlier had knocked him flat would reach to pull him up, brush him off, and check out his wounds with sincere regret. "Hey, I'm real sorry, Pappy. I got carried away. You're right about the whole thing. I'm sorry." As hard as Nick would fight head-long against the wind, moving in the wrong direction, when he was proved wrong he'd forego his pride and fight even harder, go even farther with unflinching will to make things right.

Nick's temper and brash judgments might at times cause him trouble and bring them along for the ride, but his loyalty and determination had been their saving grace many more times along the way. None of them questioned his heart. Inside this loud, unruly brother of his burned a fire that refused to be put out. Without him, Jarrod wondered, would the family have survived after Father's untimely demise? The thought of bearing the burden for them both drew an equally deep sigh from Jarrod and prompted him to pat the muscled shoulder under his hand fondly.

"Good to have you home, Nick." Heath slapped him on the back as he passed, and Nick started out of his thoughts.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah. Thanks."

"Gonna be nice to have the extra set of hands on that fence line."

Nick's head swiveled slowly toward his younger brother, the line of his lips twisted, brow raised in aggravation. He pushed his hat back from his forehead. "That's your job, little brother, and I'd 've thought you'd be done with it by now."

"Ranch work is never done, or did you forget while you were out gallivanting across the countryside? This here's a workin' ranch, brother." Heath's face was a mask of sincerity, his manner carefully devoid of humor as he used the line Nick most oft directed his way. He busied himself with carrying tack to the barn, seemingly blind and deaf to his brother's exasperation.

Nick stared after him, fists on his hips. "Well, I never."

"You never?" Heath emerged from the barn with a grin, and Nick looked to see laughter crinkling the corners of Jarrod's eyes.

"Come on, brother. Let's see what's for supper. You must be tired of trail grub."

"Heh." Nick offered a crooked grin that seemed less hearty than Jarrod had hoped, but he slung an arm over each brother's neck and so yoked, they walked together to the house.

"Nick!" Victoria descended the stairs with her arms outstretched, and her wild colt met her while she was still only halfway down.

"Mother." He pressed her hands. "You look beautiful, as always." He kissed her lightly on the cheek, reminding them that he could be gentle.

"Nick, it's good that you're home." She reached to return his kiss, ignoring the dust and the scruff, and his eyes and smile softened at her touch. He offered his arm, and she walked with him the rest of the way to the dining hall.

"Why, thank you, Nick." Victoria smiled affectionately as he held out her chair and seated her.

"Well, if this gentlemanly behavior is the result, maybe you'd best go away more often." Audra flounced into the room with a swish of silk and a challenging grin, demanding her brother's attention.

"My Lady." Nick gave an exaggerated bow, deep and low, and then, as she passed by, tousled her blond waves.

"Nick, don't you dare! Mother!" Audra squirmed away from his reach and hurriedly smoothed her gleaming hair.

"Well, you did start it." Victoria reminded her, and Audra fumed as Nick laughed loudly. Victoria took a measured breath, patiently enduring the rowdy reunion. "Please, Nick, remember we are indoors."

"Yes, Nick. You aren't eating with the animals anymore." If Audra hadn't been better trained, or perhaps if Victoria hadn't been seated next to her, she'd have stuck out her tongue, and he knew it.

"For your information, young lady, I wasn't eating with the animals." And then he paused and reconsidered the facts. "Well, there was a dog, but…"

"I knew it!" Audra made the triumphant proclamation, and Nick slammed the palm of his hand against the table, setting the silverware to clattering.

"Nicholas! Audra!"

Nick looked chagrined, and Audra silently pouted.

Jarrod sat quietly and watched all, undisturbed by the commotion. He knew that the banter was part of their dynamic. Nick had teased and pampered Audra since she was born; she wouldn't know him without it. Heath looked to Jarrod to confirm his interpretation of the interaction and smiled at reading the comfortable acceptance in Jarrod's expression.

"Audra," Victoria turned the subject, "why don't you ask Nick to take a look at Ciqala for you."

"That new colt I bought you? What's wrong?" Nick's eyes sharpened, brow furrowed in concern.

The suggestion was just the trick. Victoria saw Heath watching her. She smiled knowingly, and he grinned.

"He's been so restless the past couple of days, as if something has him spooked. He looks fine, but he's off his food and acting out. I can't for the life of me explain it."

"Well, sure. I'll take a look. …After I eat. Where is that food anyway?"

"Here you are, Mr. Nick, and welcome back." Silas deposited a heaping plate before the young man. Suddenly hungrier than he'd realized, Nick's stomach rumbled loud enough to gain the attention of the table. If comments were made, he didn't hear them. His rapt attention was placed upon the setting before him as he practically inhaled the generous portions of gravy-smothered steak and potatoes, corn, and biscuits.

"Better than beef jerky and a blanket, eh, brother?" Heath smiled over a mouth full of steak.

The image of Pilon and the stew and nights under the stars returned. Right about now everyone would be singing and dancing… Pilon with her groom… His fork wavered on the way to his mouth and then returned to the plate with the intended morsel still attached. A bittersweet smile upon his lips, Nick nodded slowly. "Yep. Sure is." But still the eagerly spiked meat went unclaimed.

"Nick… Are you feeling all right?"

His mother's voice brought him around. "Oh, sure." And then more definitively, "Yes, Mother, I'm fine." He pushed back his chair. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go see about that colt before I forget."

"But Nick, I made a pie!" Audra protested strongly, but Victoria shushed her daughter with a wave.

"You're excused, Nick."

"Mother." He nodded respectfully toward Victoria and glanced to Audra with a hint of apology as he left the table. "Save me a piece of that pie." For his brothers, he spared no look, leaving Heath and Jarrod to share one of their own.

"He must be very tired," Victoria reasoned. "Your brother never tells us everything. I'm sure it was a trying trip." She dabbed the corners of her mouth and studied the vacant chair before turning her eyes toward where he'd exited the room. Thought lines creased between her eyes.

Suddenly the appetites of all decreased, and when Silas was ready with the pie, he found them surprisingly reluctant.

"Maybe later, Silas, thank you." Audra's polite smile was forced, and Heath pushed the potatoes left and right on his plate. Jarrod continued to cut his steak into strips, arranging and rearranging but leaving them uneaten.

"Was there something wrong with the food, Ma'am?" Silas was alarmed.

"No, no. Not at all. It was very delicious, Silas. We are simply tired. Thank you." Victoria reassured him and the others swiftly joined in the defense, but after he was gone, the silence and sobriety fell again. The house was just not the same without Nick's raucous presence and jovial smile. They'd missed these things, and that they had not fully returned with him was just cause for the unease that had crept into the house.

"I think I'll go out and see if he needs any help with the colt." Heath headed for the door.

"Good idea." Jarrod resisted the desire to follow. Nick had become every bit as loyal a defender to Heath and more than his resistance had at first been strong. Heath, for his part, had learned to trust and count on that bond. More than once while Nick was away, Heath had looked down the path and commented on where Nick might be at this point and finally on whether this would be the day he'd return. It was a different relationship than Jarrod's with Nick. Nick would not look to Heath as he did Jarrod, the older brother, for steadying and advice. But perhaps what he needed now was best served by a friend.

Jarrod wandered from the room, leaving Victoria and Audra alone.

"Maybe I should go help too…" Audra pushed away from the table, but Victoria motioned her to stay.

"Give him a few minutes, Audra. Maybe then he'll be ready for that pie."

"Oh, yes!" Audra's face brightened, and she hurried to prepare the biggest piece.

Victoria found Jarrod gazing thoughtfully out the window of the library. She followed his gaze and saw that instead of being in the stable, Nick was leaning on a fence post, staring into the darkening horizon. Heath was standing off a ways, watching as if debating whether to approach.

"What is it, Jarrod? Did the trip not go well after all?"

Jarrod inhaled slowly and released a deep sigh. "He was eager to make amends with Corso. I know Nick. He was sincere."

Victoria laughed warmly. "Isn't he always?"

Jared joined in. Yes, right or wrong, Nick was always sincere. "Whatever is on his mind, I believe he completed his task as promised and has returned with no hard feelings between the parties."

"As you hoped." Victoria gave her attorney son a squeeze.

"As I expected. I had faith he would come around...eventually. It was a matter of buying time for reason to do its work." He laughed.

"Yes. I know." Victoria looked at Jarrod with pride in her eyes, and then she turned back to the window where Heath had met up with Nick. The two of them were now trudging toward the barn. "Then what? One of Nick's storms, I can take, but it's not like him to be melancholy."

Jarrod shrugged and smiled softly, turning from the window as his brothers disappeared from view. "I don't know, Mother. …Maybe Nick really is just tired."

Victoria rubbed his arm, and Jarrod patted her hand. Whatever it was, they'd make it through. For all their wealth, family was the most important resource they had.