"No."
"Sounds like you're awake."
"You have no respect for the dead." Grumbled a muffled voice.
"Would that be dead tired or dead drunk?"
"Har, dee, har, har."
Nick turned over to face his brother, the sheets twisting more tightly in a tangle around his legs.
"That was only two whiskey's last night, and we came home early."
"I take it you are not joining us for church."
Nick smiled. None of the brothers were fond of going alone to church, as all of the matchmaking mamas would be out in full force. The brothers agreed that there was safety in numbers, but having them all there only intensified the scrutiny by the fairer sex of Stockton. Maybe it was more honest to say that misery loved company.
"Take Heath."
"I would but mother said that he stayed up later last night. He hasn't come down to breakfast yet and mother said we might as well let him catch a little extra sleep."
A wily smile crossed the younger brother's lips. "Well now, I think that I will just have to stay home to make sure that our poor wounded brother is adequately entertained."
"Niiiiick?" Jarrod drawled with a tone that was suspicious of the other's motives.
"Aw heck, Jarrod. Heath's been cooped up in this house all week. I'll let him sleep a little longer and maybe take him for a ride."
"Your on your own, brother Nick. If questioned, I will disavow any knowledge of this discussion." Then with a more serious tone, he added, "Play it safe, Nick. Don't stray to far from the house and make sure that Silas and the hands know where you are headed."
"Awwww, come on Pappy, you know I'd never let anything happen to him."
"I'm equally worried about what could happen to you."
"Mother hen."
"Yeah, well someone has to keep the two of you in line."
"You can work on that as soon as you get back from church."
Not thrilled at the reminder, Jarrod threw a sour glance back at his brother as he left the room.
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Nick pushed himself back from the breakfast table. He was enjoying his lazy Sunday morning; it was long since time to wake up his blonde goldbricking brother.
10 am!
Nick couldn't even remember the day that Heath had ever slept in that long – not even with a hangover. Tromping up the stairs, Nick thought that he would give Heath fair warning.
"GET UP HEATH! I'M BUSTING YOU OUTTA HERE!"
As he rounded the corner and entered Heath's bedroom, Nick more meekly added. "But we need to go before mother gets…"
Stopped short when he was greeted with a made, and very empty, bed. Nick went out into the hall. He wasn't in the family bathroom or guest bath. He wasn't in Mother's, Jarrod's or Audra's room. The beginnings of a sneaking suspicion were setting off alarm klaxons in Nick's head. Hanging over the railing on the second level, Nick hollered for help from the one person that knew the comings and goings of the Barkley clan better than anyone else.
"SILAS! SILAS, WHERE ARE YOU?"
Appearing from out of the parlor, Silas replied in gentler tones, "I'm here Mister Nick. What would you be needing?"
"Have you seen Heath this morning?"
"Haven't seen Heath since last night. Your Mother said that he was still a sleepin'."
"I don't think he's anywhere in the house." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Nick was as certain of what he would, or rather - wouldn't find - as he was of the headache that was pounding it's way out of his head.
Taking the steps down in double time, Nick was out of the house in a second. He headed to the barn and grabbed the reins of the first horse that he saw saddled from a startled hand. He pulled up just as they arrived at the pasture. Charger was nowhere to be seen. Damn. Heath was gone. Wheeling his mount around, Nick headed back to the barn. He knew how Heath had avoided being seen while taking Charger out of the barn last night. Heath would pay for that. But Nick had no idea how his brother had managed to carry his saddle out of the barn, to the pasture seemed quite impossible.
Nick's answer stared back at him the moment he entered the barn. Heath's saddle sat where it always did when not in use. Nick couldn't believe that Heath would be foolish enough to try and leave the ranch riding bareback, but the proof was lying right in front of him.
"Idiot boy! What the hell was he thinking?"
"What's wrong Mr. Barkley?"
Not expecting Nate to be in the barn, Nick was take off guard. "Uhhh, I think Heath took Charger out for a ride."
Nate stepped out of one of the stalls, a currycomb in his hand attesting to his reason for being there. Nate's eyes followed Nick's to where Heath's saddle sat in the barn.
"I thought the doctor said that Mr. Heath shouldn't…"
"Yes, he said that."
"Should I get the hands?
"Yeah, that would be real helpful Nate."
Nate was scared. He wasn't sure exactly why, except that Mr. Nick looked really, really serious and maybe a little scared too.
Nate ran all the way to the bunkhouse and burst through the door. Slamming back on it's hinges, the door crashed against its frame. Nate needed no other announcement to alert the crew of his presence.
"Hey y'all. Mr. Nick needs everyone in he barn. Mr. Heath's gone missing."
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Heath had doubled back on his trail so many times, he thought he might have a hard time remembering which way he was really going. He used every trick he knew to also obscure his trail. He had crossed over rocky ground that would obscure any foot print and walked Charger up stream to hid his tracks as well. Ironically now that he was headed in his true intended direction, he took a main wagon trail where Charger's train would be mingle with all the rest and soon obliterated by the higher traffic that passed through here.
Knowing that he was doing what he had do to didn't made his tired, sore body feel any better. Early on, Heath realized that he needed to keep the number of times that he got off the horse down to a minimum. Every time that he stopped made it harder to mount back up with his stiffening muscles.
Hadn't much luck in the hunting department either. His revolver did not give him many options. Heath had been lucky that the grandfather of all rabbits had hopped relatively slowly across the path or he would be dining on just biscuits and cheese. As it was, the stringy hare probably wouldn't offer up enough meat for even one meal.
Heath was almost too tired to care about food by the time that he made camp Sunday evening. He had been in the saddle for almost 18 hours straight. After dressing the rabbit and cooking his meager meal, his appetite was almost nonexistent. After laying a trail that would lead any pursuer to believe he was heading to Sacramento, Heath headed in his intended direction for Markleeville. After arriving there, if he'd not found a temporary job, he could head north to Carson City.
Using his lumpy saddlebags as a pillow, Heath put the last wood that he gathered on the fire and tried to get comfortable wrapped in the blanket that seemed inadequate for the task of keeping him warm. Heading into the high country, the days could get up to ninety plus degrees. But at night the temperature could plunge as much as forty degrees to the fifties. Not too bad when he was feeling 100 percent. Now, however, the cold seemed to wrap its fingers around him and dig deep into his muscles. When he finally nodded off, it seemed like it was just a moment later when the light of Monday morning roused him once again.
Uncurling from under the blanket with a groan he wrestled his boots on and stood up. Well almost stood up. It took some moving around to loosen up Heath's sore muscles.
Gathering up the bedroll and saddlebags after dousing the fire, Heath moved over to Charger and replaced the bridle. Getting on Charger's back looked something akin to scaling Pike's peak. Ever practical, he felt no shame in moving Charger over to a rock and scrambling ungracefully from the advantage the slight elevation afforded.
If he pushed it, Heath thought he might make Markleeville in two more days. He needed some decent food and rest. Hopefully, he would spot a small ranch that could use some help in exchange for bedding down in the bunkhouse or barn.
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With admirable economy of effort, Nick directed some of the men to scour the immediate area and a couple of the best trackers to see if they could pick up a lead as to what direction Heath might be headed. Nick went back to the house and directed a rider to go to the telegraph office. He was going to have a message sent to most of the towns in the area to reply by telegraph if a certain blond family member was seen on a bay stallion. Specifics on descriptions were detailed as well as the fact that the rider might be checking with livery stables in need of a saddle. Reward upon receipt of information leading to the location of this man was offered.
Nick was not going to let his younger brother get the best of him. He planned to head out as soon as his family returned from the Sunday services. Jarrod had contacts in law enforcement that might be of assistance.
Nick was pacing in the foyer one hour later when his family arrived back from Stockton. It was now early afternoon and he keenly regretted any delay in going out and searching for his brother. Two of the men had reported back that the tracks seemed to be heading for Sacramento.
Jarrod was ushering the women into the house, when Nick pounced on his unsuspecting family.
"It's about time that you got back home."
Victoria frowned. "That's a lovely way to greet your family, Nicholas Jonathan Barkley."
Nick offered no apologies – just two simple words, "Heath's gone."
That got his family's attention.
The lawyer was the first to respond. "Where?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't be standing here right now." Going into the study, Nick apprised his family of the details of Heath's 'escape' and the steps that he had taken to this point.
Victoria was the first to speak when Nick had finished.
"Did you check his room?"
"Of course I checked his room. He didn't take much. He left his rifle and saddle. What the hell was he thinking?"
"Probably that he couldn't smuggle the rifle out without someone noticing. The saddle… You said you took Charger to the back pasture?" Jarrod contemplated that for a minute. Quietly, he added, "I imagine he didn't think that he could manage carrying the saddle as well as whatever he took, for that distance."
For the first time in the conversation, Audra interrupted. Looking at both of her brothers, she pleaded. "You have to find Heath and bring him home."
Placing an arm around his sister's waist, Jarrod gently guided his sister into the parlor and made her sit on the sofa. "Honey, you know that Nick and I will do everything that we can to find him."
Aware of the inadequacy of his assurance, Jarrod's face grew grim. Jarrod didn't have it in his heart to make promises that he wasn't sure in his own heart he could keep. A small hand slipped over Jarrod's. He looked up to see his sister's face shine at both of them with enough faith to almost make true believers both her older brothers as well.
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Heath couldn't believe his luck when he saw a curl of smoke rise from a tree lined clearing about a mile north of where he was traveling. Directing Charger in that direction, the cowboy was rewarded with the sight of a small homestead nestled on a rise overlooking a stream. It had a homey look, with an extensive vegetable garden behind the house and gentle blooms gracing the front. As he approached the house, the state of disrepair came into sharper focus. The fence around the paddock had planks shoved up against the posts in an attempt to keep it from falling over. A stack of shingles lay to the side of the house, partially covered by a tarp. Looking up at the roof, it was obvious that they were sorely needed. With any luck, these folks would see the advantage of hiring a little help for room and board. With any luck they wouldn't notice that he was a little banged up until he already had the job.
Seeing no one out front, Heath started to walk his horse over to the hitching post in front of the house. Just as he had gotten to within thirty feet of the house, the front door slammed open and a formidable looking older woman appeared. What she carried was even more fearsome and both barrels were aimed squarely at Heath's chest.
TBC…