There are a lot of great BV writers that do not post here. Please encourage them by treating the authors that post on FF.net to a review of their work every once in a while. Who knows, you might see even more stories…
Eye For An Eye by Chianna
Chapter 2
It's hotter than blue blazes, Heath thought, as he dragged the blue bandana across his forehead and retied it around his neck. Not much could get Heath traipsing over Sonora way during the worst part of summer. Scratch that – a few years back he might have made the effort to see Lupita. But Lupita was married with three niños. A gentle smile ever so slightly lifted the corners of the cowboy's lips in fond remembrance of flashing green eyes and ebony hair.
Naw, this trip was to pick up a gold filigree hair bob that Heath had commissioned from a jovial German immigrant with devilishly delicate artistry. His brothers had started a tradition of giving their mother a gift on her wedding anniversary, just as their father had for so many years. This year was Heath's turn. Maybe two years ago, Heath might have shunned the tradition. The pain of abandonment, even if unintentional, was just too close to the surface back then. Now, everything was different. Heath had come to terms with living under the shadow of his father. In a way he was still living with him as his mother would always remind them when either he or his brothers said or did something, "just like your father."
Better than half way home, he could almost taste the lemonade that Silas would make up fresh for him. Same color as the yellow dust and stones that he and Charger were picking their way through. And Mother and Audra would glide down the stairs and great him with welcoming smiles and warm hugs.
Mother. Heath smiled that gentle half smile once again. How many men could say that they'd been lucky enough to be loved by two such singular women? Both loved fiercely and with no qualifications. Leah, his natural mother, sacrificed much to keep him fed and put a roof over his head. Victoria Barkley had almost caused an unmendable able rift between herself and her children and risked social ostracism to accept Tom Barkley's illegitimate son.
Heath remembered when he truly started to think of Victoria Barkley as his "mother." Sure, in that first year, she had accepted him unconditionally and treated him as her own. He'd even started to call her mother with a respect and fondness that he'd only held for one other. But it was that terrible day and night, when Heath had been pinned under an overturned wagon laden with supplies for the families cabin. Stuck in the mud, he'd jumped down to give the wagon a push. With no warning, it toppled on its side and trapped his chest and legs under the muck.
Thrown clear of the wagon, Victoria Barkely scrambled to his side, her gentle face stricken with fear that she tried to hide as she reassured him. She'd always struck him as being delicate as a hummingbird, especially when surrounded by her three strapping sons. But that day, as she wrestled boxes, crates and bags in an effort to lighten the load that was crushing him into the muddy creek bed – she was like a she-bear rescuing an injured cub.
Cold, pain and helplessness are some of the greatest levelers known to man. Heath remembered how, gut shot and lying in the killing fields of the civil war, grown men would, with their dying breath, call for their mothers. Time and distance making their plea impossible to fulfill. That day, when his universe had been reduced to the few square feet that he could see about that damned wagon - he called for his mother, too. His miracle was that his mother came for him, held his hand, comforted and saved him.
He do anything to keep his new family safe, but he'd go to hell and back, risk his life and even his honor for his Mother.
But today, all that was required was to bring his present back to the ranch so that three days from now he could make a gift of it to his "best gal." Boy howdy, would Audra's eyes be green with envy when she got an eyeful of Karl's handiwork. He might as well telegraph the German to start on a new bauble for his baby sister for her birthday just so she wouldn't pester him ta' death. He fingered the hair bob in his breast pocket and gave Charger just a little nudge. He couldn't wait to get home.
It was just a moment later, when something that felt like a mule kick to his shoulder, threw Heath off Charger's back. As he fell, he heard the sharp report of a rifle. Guess it weren't no mule, he mused fuzzily. Face down on the dusty trail; his last coherent thought was for his family and how disappointed he'd be to not see his mother's face when she put that fancy doodad in her hair.
TBC…