I don't own any of the characters or places from "Big Valley."Please read and enjoy without cost.
Heath took a breath and his voice gained power and anger again. "And left to her own, when her husband got liquored up and drowned in some stinkin creek." He glanced back up at the portrait hanging over the fireplace "Until he came."
. . .
"Leah!"
His mother's hand froze. Her wet underthing felt like it would freeze to his welt. He froze with it.
Heath saw even her eyes freeze like a doe's as they stare into you before you pull the trigger. Heath's gaze went over her shoulder to the man holding a bottle. He stank of alcohol and sweat and … other things. He swayed slightly. He stared, fascinated, at his mother's back. "Leah, I got me a bottle and a half and a warm bedroll to share."
His mother stood, took Heath's hand, and began to walk him to their own tent without turning or glancing over her shoulder in the man's direction. "I'm sorry Seth. I gotta go put this boy down to bed, read him the scriptures, and help him say his prayers."
"What! Am I any less than your husband was? He liked his whiskey too before he fell into the creek!"
Heath glanced up into his mother's face. She was biting her bottom lip. He thought she had even wetter eyes than earlier when she'd just been examining and cleaning the welts on his face."
Heath turned a scowl back at the man. He saw Seth's face had gone even redder. Then the man shouted. "That boy wouldn't even be here if'in you was really this high and mighty, Leah! Leah you hear me?!"
His mother responded by picking up her pace a bit. Heath turned his gaze to the opening of their tent ahead of them. He picked his on feet up higher and lengthened his stride enough to drag her along. Then he heard and felt the man coming after them.
His mother ran. The man lumbered faster after her. Then he was in head-long pursuit. They dove through their tent opening. His ma shouted. "Heath, the rifle!"
He slid to a stop before it, picked it up, and thrust it into her hands. She was on her knees. She turned on them toward the tent opening and aimed up. Seth arrived. He lurched to a stop at stared into the gun barrels.
His mama hissed down the barrel. "You go on now, Seth. Go on!"
He even paused to tip his hat to her before turning and leaving. Heath's mama sagged once Seth's back was no longer in sight outside the tent. She let her shoulders fall and head hang. She stuck the rifle's stock into the earth and leaned on the gun. Heath quietly stepped up to her side. "Mama?"
"Yes, Heath?"
He drew a step closer and whispered down into her ear. "Is the gun loaded?"
She raised up her head and shook it. "No, Heath. It isn't."
He tilted his head, raised his eyebrows, and shoved his hand into his pockets. "Maybe it ought to be ma."
She raised her hazel eyes to him. "Heath, you know I could never hurt anyone."
. . .
Heath closed his own eyes in pain at the memory now. There it was. She could never hurt anyone, and everyone and his brother could hurt her just fine.
God Bless
ScribeofHeroes