When Heath awoke, the scent of coffee and bacon filled the cabin. Hannah always made a solid breakfast because they both never knew if their work would keep them from a proper lunch.

He rolled over and discovered that his neck was sore from when Matt had pinned him against the shed. He didn't have a mirror in his room to know what it looked like. He simply pulled his collar up more and hoped that would be good enough.

But it wasn't. Hannah instantly reacted.

"Heath! What happened to your neck?" she exclaimed as he entered the kitchen. "And your ear! There's blood."

He covered his ear and felt the crusty dried blood he'd neglected to wash off last night.

"I got into it with the Brightons. It's nothing."

"Them boys aint welcome here no more." Hannah said firmly. "No more. I don't care how sick their folks is. Lord Jesus!" Hannah turned to the sink. "Sit down at the table. I want to clean that up."

She took the hot water from the stove and got clean rags from the cabinet. "Now you sit here and let me take care of you."

Heath dropped into the chair at the table and waited. His gaze fell to the Bible his momma had read nightly. It was open because Hannah had taken to reading it since Momma died.

He thumbed through to the family records pages. The Bible showed Leah Thomson's parents and their daughters Martha and Leah. Other siblings were listed, but Heath knew nothing of them.

"Hannah," Heath said quietly, not sure how to begin. "Who was my father?"

"I never knew him." She took a warm cloth and began cleaning his wounded ear.

"I asked who he was. If you know, tell me." The warm ministrations soothed his mind. Helped him think.

"All I know is his last name. Thomson."

"Did he ever love my momma?"

"I don't rightly know."

Heath looked at her, stricken. "Didn't he have to love her? I mean a man wouldn't just-"

Hannah cut him off, not wanting to discuss that matter. "I'd never tell you a lie, Heath. I just don't know. When I met your momma, you were already walkin' and getting into everything. She had to work and I helped her keep her house and her boy in good care. Leah did love the man. She told me that much. She believed he loved her, but no one knows the heart of a man, but the man himself."

"He abandoned her. And me. Why would a loving man do something like that?" Heath fisted his hands. "He was the bastard."

"Heath. Now don't go talkin' like that."

"It's truer for him than for me."

"Did them Brighton's say things like that? Did they call you a bastard? They're the ones vandalizing the town. Throwing rocks through windows...runnin' off livestock..."

"Doesn't matter. Truth is truth, no matter who does the telling."

"You're right, love." A troubled look crossed Hannah's face and she rose from the table. "And truth always has a way of finding you whether you're ready for it or not." She moved slowly to a cedar trunk that held her personal possessions. She opened the lid and withdrew a small nondescript wooden box. She held it close and shut her eyes for a moment as if in prayer, and then she brought it to the kitchen.

She set it on the table in front of him. "It's yours. When Leah was sick and she knew she was dying, she asked me to keep this for you. She made me promise not to give it to you until you were a grown man and had a good head on your shoulders, but..." Hannah shook her head. "I don't know of anyone around here who has a better head on his shoulders than you, Heath. Leah won't like this, but she's gone, and we can hash out that argument the day I meet her again in heaven. I say, you have a right to it now."

Heath's throat went dry. "What's in it?"

"I've never opened it. It doesn't belong to me, Heath. It belongs to you." She placed her hand on his cheek and kissed the top of his head. "Your heart's breaking. I can only hope that whatever is inside that box is what you need to mend it."

Hannah moved away from him, but he turned to her. "Don't leave, Hannah. If it's time for the truth, I want you to know it too."

Leah Thomson sat in her sick bed. Snips of paper and trinkets that lay about on the quilt were memories from her life she wanted to share with Heath one day. She placed each item into the little box with care, for she knew her son would be the first person to see them again, but not for another decade would these memories see the light of day.

She took the locket that had been her mother's and had placed her own picture inside. It was the only picture she had of herself, but in it she looked youthful and strong and in her eyes was a hope for the future. It was hard for her to remember a time where she could have been those things. She wanted Heath to remember her that way, instead of the wasted and frail woman she had become.

She picked up the newspaper clippings, the ones she had saved that told the stories of the man she had loved long ago. They were a record of his business dealings in Strawberry and in Stockton and his generous philanthropy toward both communties. Scattered here and there Heath would be able to piece together a picture of his father he could be proud of. Tom Barkley had built the schoolhouse in Strawberry. He had made sure there was a park in the middle of that bustling town for families to spend time together.

Also, hidden in the clippings, Heath would find the names of Tom Barkley's first family. The one that bore the Barkley name. Wife Victoria, sons Jarrod and Nicholas. Their names were all here, though only in black and white. Leah sighed. She never delved too deeply into the lives of the family Tom Barkley had briefly set aside in order to be with her. She hadn't wanted to know the woman and children whose lives would be torn apart by his infidelity.

She didn't want to fall for the man, but she did. And it couldn't be helped. They'd been drawn to each other so passionately. Leah was too young not to give in to the fantasies of a husband and family of her own. She had lied to herself so completely, convinced Tom was the one who would make this dream come true. Hopes of that kind shamed the woman she grew to become. She had desired another woman's husband and had held him for a brief time.

They'd both came to their senses gradually and Leah did not wish to burden him with the knowledge of another son. It would ruin him. She could not bear that thought.

Now she could not bear the thought of Heath knowing the truth. One day, she hoped he would find it in his heart to forgive her. She folded the clippings neatly into an envelope and placed it in the box.

Last, she placed the handwritten letter in which she poured her heart to the man her son would one day be. She would die soon, that she knew. She would not be there to comfort him when he learned the truth. She prayed for Heath's love and forgiveness and then she closed the box leaving her relationship with her only son in the loving hands of God.

Hannah placed a gentle hand on Heath's back as he read through the papers from the box. She had pulled him close when the news became too much for him, but to his credit, he did not cry much. He straightened when he was through and asked that Hannah also read his momma's letter.

She argued with him at first, not wanting to pry, but Heath told her that she was his family now and there should be no secrets between them.

After she read it, she quietly folded the letter, and slipped it back into the envelope.

"You read Momma's letter," said Heath. "You know about me and about Leah."

"She didn't want me to be reading a private note for you. It's not right."

Heath placed the letter in the box. "Secrets like these cause heaps of trouble. I love my momma dearly. I miss her something awful, but she was wrong to keep this information from me and if she were here right now, I would tell her that much."

"True."

"I don't want any more secrets between you and me. I've had enough of 'em."

"There are no secrets-"

"There's plenty," Heath said. "Here's the first one you need to know about." He indicated the bruises at his neck. "The Brightons didn't do this to me. Matt did."

Her eyes went wide with indignation. "Matt did that to you?"

"Yes. He and Martha are planning something terrible, and I have to stop them if it's not too late."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Hannah, look here." Heath grabbed one of the clippings and pointed to a name in the article. "Nick Barkley's my brother. He's in Strawberry at this very moment. Yesterday, he came looking for me. I even talked to him for a while, but I didn't know who he was."

"He's here?"

"Matt and Martha put him up at the hotel." Heath pushed back from the table and paced. His excitement ratcheted too much for him to stay seated. "They're in cahoots with a shady con man I only know as Bill. Matt warned me not to come back to town. He said he was forced into this thing he was gonna do and didn't want me to mess it up. He said it was gonna help him and Martha get out of Strawberry for good. Nick is in awful trouble." Famished, Heath snatched a piece of warm bacon from the plate on the stove and popped the savory tidbit into his mouth.

"This sounds just like a dime novel!" Hannah exclaimed. At Heath's disbelieving stare, she amended. "Not that I read them. They're sinful trash. What do you think Matt plans to do?"

"To him, Barkleys mean money, plain and simple," Heath replied snatching another slice. "He's gonna take from them every penny he can get his greedy hands on."

"I never much liked Matt and Martha. I always knew they would come to no good." Hannah looked down at the clippings scattered on the table and seemed to come to a decision. "The good Lord spoke to me today, Heath. He wanted me to give you that box. There must be a good reason for it." She looked at him with a gleam of determination in her eyes. "What are we sittin' around here for? The Lord's on our side. Finish breakfast. We're going into town."

Heath grinned. "Yes ma'am!"