When Nick came in from the barn, no one stopped him as he stomped up to his room without a word. They assumed that he was brooding over the same issue that weighed on them all. None were aware that another brick had been added to Nick's load. And in typical Nick-fashion, he was less than enthusiastic about sharing his problems with the rest of the family.
Running a hand through already tousled ebony hair, Nick examined the choices laid out before him. Neither was appealing. To ask for help from Jarrod or the Sheriff might mean Heath's death just as the killer warned in his letter. To go it alone and follow the stalker's instructions would put him on the defensive. He would likely walk into a trap that could snare his younger brother as well.
But he had to do something. In fact, it was that overriding need that drove him to start packing for a solitary trip to Markleeville. His mind was so preoccupied that he barely noted what he packed in his saddlebags. Yet when he looked up, a picture on the chest of drawers caught his eye. It was of his whole family dressed up to celebrate the holidays – his whole world. He reached for the picture and took it gently from the mahogany frame. Looking at it, he vowed that this Christmas there would be a new picture and it would include everyone that was smiling back at him from that frozen moment he held in this hands. Gently, Nick wrapped the picture in a silk handkerchief and stowed it with the few spare belongings for the trip.
Nick settled into bed, still in his clothes with one arm tucked under his head and staring at the ceiling. He waited for the sounds of a house winding down for evening's rest. Finally, sometime after midnight, Nick heard the slow trod of his older brother as he finally called it quits for the night. Three days ago, when Heath had gone missing, Nick and Jarrod were constantly consulting as they tried to figure out where their brother had gone. As leads dried up and other avenues of investigation resulted in dead ends, they had less and less to say to each other except to share their increasing worry and frustration. So it was not surprising that they spoke less and less as time passed.
This served Nick's purposes fine. He'd get up early and have breakfast with Silas, then head west to Markleeville. The family would assume that he was already out to get an early start on his duties around the ranch. Grimly, he thought that they might even be relieved to avoid the black mood that had settled over him like a damp, heavy fog. Quietly, for him, he slipped down the stairs and out to the barn to conceal his saddlebags. Silas would be suspicious if Nick was packing anything more than a gun and lunch for a day's work on the ranch. Arriving in the barn, Nick stowed his bags behind a bale of hay and hurried back to the house, sneaking back into his room. He shrugged out of his clothes and sank into bed for a few hours of sleep. Probably his last in a real bed for several days.
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Silas was a bit surprised when Nick came down to eat at 5 am. But the boy ate heartily and informed Silas between forkfuls of scrambled eggs that he was heading out early to work on the fences in the far north pasture. A long ride, surely, and normally the type of work that Heath preferred. Nick was normally the one to work more with the other men, but in the last few days had kept more to himself. Silas shook his head in regret. For being the loudest Barkley, this boy was often the one least likely to seek anyone else's support or council.
Nick lit out as soon as he finished breakfast. His only objectives - find his brother and bring him home. He needed to avoid his Heath's attempted killer and to that point, he chose to light out across country instead of taking the well-travelled road. Though the trip would take longer over rough ground, Nick hoped that he'd be less likely to fall prey to the stalker if he avoided making any predictable moves.
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Unfortunately, Nick had no way to know that he had inadvertently welcomed the villain onto the ranch. Rawlston found it easy to volunteer to track the boy. It had served as a good excuse to do just that. He'd headed back to the Barkley ranch a couple of days later convinced that the kid would probably stick around the homestead. Rawlston was sure that little filly would work her wiles on the boy and keep him close. If the kid did move on, he planned to pose as a concerned friend and inquire to the boy's destination or simply follow his tracks. Word of Nick disappearing from the ranch would spread after a few days and draw Heath Barkley home like a magnet anyway. The plan was fool proof, Rawlston chucked to himself.
The horse and rider followed Nick at a distance that would keep his pursuer well hidden from view. Good intentions and good planning would not serve the middle Barkley. Rawlston would bide his time. No sense in dragging a reluctant hostage for three days to the younger Barkley. Let Nick Barkley haul his own carcass to his little brother – or almost. Rawlston issued the invitation. He'd make sure that Nick got close enough, but he had special plans for Heath Barkley's party and he wanted to make sure that the present was properly wrapped in insure a satisfying surprise for young Barkley.
TBC…