Tables Turned
Heath scanned the faces in the room, still unsure why these people insisted he was related to him. Although Mrs. Barkley appeared to be a pleasant woman, she was not his mother. The three men claimed to be his brothers and the pretty golden-haired young lady his sister, but he was a bastard child with no siblings.
Tired, weak, and his head throbbing like a herd of heifers stampeded through it, Heath couldn't concentrate enough to process why someone would do this to him, so he shut his eyes.
Victoria noted the pained squinting and softly said, "We'll let you rest now, Heath. The doctor is on his way out to check on you." She shooed her children out the door, and although Nick resisted her, she firmly gripped his arm and hauled him out to the hall, and closed Heath's door. She motioned to the stairs, and they trooped down them.
Heath started to drift off, but the door opened again, and he ventured a peek at who came back. To his relief, it was the man named Silas. For some reason, he felt most comfortable around him. It was likely because he didn't yell like the dark-haired Nick. Nor stare at him with wounded eyes like Gene and Audra. And he didn't talk incessantly like Jarrod.
Boy howdy if they were actually his family, they would be a handful. Silas was simple and easy. He didn't say much or insist he remembered he was Heath Barkley like the others did for the past day … or maybe it was two or three. Time had a habit of slipping away from him when he took the laudanum. He wished he didn't need it, but he did … at least for a little while longer.
"Mr. Heath. I brung you toast and eggs. You think you can eat some for me?"
Though not hungry, Heath recognized he must consume something to regain his strength, so nodded.
Downstairs in the parlor, Nick poured sherry for Mother before doling out whiskey for him and Jarrod.
"Mother, why won't Heath accept what we are saying is the truth?" Audra flounced to the settee and dropped onto it in an unladylike fashion.
"Audra, we must give him time," Victoria said as she accepted the crystal stemware from Nick.
"It's been three days since he woke. He should remember us by now." Audra crossed her arm, somewhat hurt that Heath wouldn't or couldn't recall her—she worried he might leave once he recovered if he didn't.
"He may never remember. Head wounds can be difficult to treat or predict. And he did lose a lot of blood, which complicates things." Eugene stated with authority he really didn't possess, but he had more medical training than the rest of his family.
Nick strode to the open door seeking the cool breeze of the approaching night, and leaned against the jamb. He stared outside, but he didn't focus on anything in particular as he shuttered the voices of his family in preference for his own thoughts. Fate seemed to hate him.
Just when he was ready to accept Heath and embrace him as a brother, the tables turned on him. Now it was Heath who refused to believe they were brothers. And hell, he didn't even know them … didn't recognize the Barkley name … and insisted he was Heath Thomson.
Well, one part of that was right, Heath was definitely Tom's son, so therefore a Barkley. The coincidence or irony of Heath's mother's surname wasn't lost on him … like it was ordained.
Nick was brought out of his musings as Jarrod settled a hand on his shoulder.
"If he doesn't recall and wants to leave, there isn't much we can do to keep Heath here." Jarrod offered a cigar to Nick.
"I'll tie him to the bed and make him remember before I let him just waltz outta here after everything we've all gone through. After what he's gone through. He's our brother, and I won't abandon him."
"It's not a question of abandoning, if he chooses to go, once he recovers sufficiently."
Nick turned steely eyes on his eldest brother. "Not happening. He's still in danger. Someone did that to him. Somebody tried to murder my brother. And I'll be damned if I'll let the blackguard finish the job."
A knock on the front door brought their discussion to a halt, and Nick hurried to answer it since Silas was upstairs with Heath. They were expecting Dr. Merar, so he was surprised to find Barrett standing there when he opened the door, unaware the men had returned from the north pasture.
"Mr. Barkley," Barrett held his hat in his hand.
"Yes."
"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but well, Wickham done got himself killed."
"What? How?" Nick's mind raced. He sent Barrett, Wickham, Rogers, and five others out four days ago on a simple task of gathering the stragglers.
"His horse stepped into a hole as we was returning, and it threw him. His neck snapped in the fall," Barrett lied. "I had to put down the horse too … busted his leg. I'm sorry, Mr. Barkley. We done brought him back with us, figuring we ought to ensure he's buried right and proper."
Nick sighed. "You did right. Talk to McColl to find out if anyone knows if he has family to notify."
"He don't. Wickham was an orphan … told me so a few days ago," Barrett shared, but not all of what he learned. No, that part would remain with him because he didn't want anyone suspecting him of murder. But the whoreson deserved to die … all bastards did, especially those who pretended they were better than they were—like Heath.
Nick's attention shifted to the buggy approaching, spotting Dr. Merar.
"Hello, Nick. Is Heath awake?" Thomas Merar called out.
"Yes, or at least he was a few minutes ago," Nick replied. Then refocusing on Barrett, he said, "Have McColl make the arrangements. I need to be here for my brother. We'll talk tomorrow about the cows you brought in."
"Okay, Mr. Barkley." Barrett pivoted as the doctor's rig halted. He couldn't believe the bastard still lived. He would need to find another way to get rid of him. Rogers would help. They were of the same mind when it came to Heath and Wickham.
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Notes: Well, my best-laid plans to update this more frequently flew out the window. Again sorry for the long wait, and thanks for sticking with it. I'm going to try to do shorter chapters so I can post more frequently. Evil Muse decided to kill off Wickham, because it would be too easy for him to point the finger at Barrett and thus shorten all the stuff the muse has planned for Heath.
If you like my style of whumping characters and building brotherhood connections, check out my website (lauraactonauthor. com) where you can find all my published books in the Beauty of Life, and the Strike Force Zulu series. I whump blond, blue-eyed Dan (BoL) and Max (SFZ) in many different ways.
