A/N: Heath's timeline is ahead of Nick's for now, eventually the two will catch up. This chapter is the day of Mr. Walters' stroke.

Anyone who reads over at the BV writer's desk...I messed up when it comes to the amount paid for the men. Geesh

Chapter Seven

Teresa sat on her horse, though there was no saddle on it, hidden behind a clump of trees that sat roughly a hundred yards from the stable. Her aunt appearing in the study, and the subsequent conversation she had had with her husband, had given Teresa just enough time to get to the stable to get her horse and hide in the trees. She wasn't afraid that the fact that she'd left her saddle behind would tell her uncle something wasn't right. Why should she when she was well known for riding bareback; even into town? No, Teresa knew it wouldn't raise any red flags. Sure enough, she watched as her uncle disappeared inside the stable only to come out moments later riding his own horse. He was pushing his horse hard towards town.

Teresa turned her horse around and headed for the family's shack on the edge of the ranch. It held blankets, some non perishable food like beans and there was always a rifle and ammunition in the shack. She would need those before she headed up into the hills. As wrong as it might have been to lie to anyone, she had known it was the only way she'd get the head start she needed. As she raced towards the cabin she, mentally, went over what she'd seen in her uncle's ledger. Its contents had made her sick to her stomach. While she had not had time to read everything the few things she had read reached out and grabbed her so hard she'd never forget them. Three of those items were: 1865 Johnsons paid 1,000.00 for P.F., 1872 Johnsons paid 1,150.00 for C. M., and 1877 Johnsons paid 2,000.00 for N.B.

While she couldn't prove it, Teresa just knew the initials stood for her father Patrick Farrell, her friend's brother, Curtis Marshall and the rancher from California, Nick Barkley. If that was the case, then she could pretty well guess why her cousin had fled to the east. The Johnsons had to be using forced labor for their mines and other endeavors, and her uncle was one of their suppliers! Well, a portion of their laborers had to be in that position. Her uncle must have tried to get her cousin 'into the business'-as it were- and Lyman had wanted no part of it. Sure, she couldn't prove that, only her cousin was enough of a coward to take the easy way out if she was right.

Teresa wasn't sure what she would do once she got to the Johnson's main office; she just knew she had to see if she could find her father, friend and Mr. Barkley. While she would have preferred to go to the sheriff, there was no time as she knew her uncle would have caught up with her and stopped her before she ever got to town.

~oOo~

Nick could see the moon from where he lay on a cot. His right wrist was in one half of a pair of handcuffs. The other half of the handcuffs held his co-worker's wrist. The co-worker, a man from Lodi by the name of Isaiah Edmonds, lay on a cot just inches away from Nick's. With sleep evading him, his mind turned back in time, back to when he first came to after being hit on the head with what turned out to be a shovel.

Nick shook his head and opened his eyes. It took a moment to get his pupils to focus; it didn't take long to realize he was in what looked to be similar to a bunkhouse. Only there was one huge difference… all the men had been brought to the place against their will and all, like Nick, were chained to at least one other man. At first, due to the surprise in Mr. Walters' eyes, Nick feared the gentleman had fallen victim to the same fate. Then, after he and the gentleman he was first chained too-one Todd Banks from Modesto-Nick was filled with fury as he overheard one of the guards tell another guard that 'Mr. Walters had once again pulled off a perfect acting job'. It made him realize that Teresa had been right, only she hadn't known the threat came from her own relative. Well, that or she did, but was simply too afraid to come right out and say so. He didn't know which the case was.

Nick sighed as he continued looking at the moonlight. He remembered the first few months he was here and how he'd tried to get the first man he'd been handcuffed to to revolt and escape. The man chained to him tired of his hounding and shocked Nick by asking what he, the partner, had done to him. The man had also asked why Nick wanted to ruin any chance that he-the partner- had of getting the Johnsons to allow him to work in their lumber camp. Sure, that partner had admitted that the few who were allowed to do that were kept under extremely heavy guard, as there was no way to chain two men together in that line of work. Still, he wanted a chance to do it. When Nick asked what he meant, Nick was appalled to learn that the few men who had convinced the man chained to them to try to escape from the mine weren't the only ones punished. No, the Johnsons were cruel enough to make the man who had convinced his partner to try and escape watch as their partner was killed and then the Johnsons simply chained the instigator to a pole in the compound until they got him a new partner…and that could take some time depending on where they got a new partner from. The main instigator was also whipped at least once, if not twice, before they got a new partner. Needless to say not many men working in the mine tried to get their partners to escape. No one wanted to feel like they had another man's blood on their hands. It was that fact alone that had stopped Nick from trying to get his partner to help him get away. Though that hadn't stopped Nick from arguing with his captors and being an all around hard case; he had memories of being hit in his gut with a butt of a rifle and scars on his back from his own whippings to prove that one.

Nick looked over at Isaiah who was sleeping. The man had replaced Nick's first partner who had gotten his wish and been moved up to the logging camp. While Nick would have preferred that line of work over the mines, he knew he'd never get it. There was no way he was going to bow down and kiss up to Mr. Johnson or anyone else linked to this mess, and that's what it would take. What he needed was his freedom. He sighed quietly; the only chance he had of getting his freedom had to come from the outside.

While Nick had never been overly religious, he had always gone to church with his family and said his share of prayers. Now, two and a half years of being forced to work in the Johnson's mine, the prayers Nick had said since waking up in this nightmare had become more urgent. He had to get out of this place, but-without endangering Isaiah's life-he didn't know how. Nick sent another urgent prayer upwards and then managed to fall asleep, having no idea that the prayer was in the process of being answered.