Heath worked alongside Nick, setting posts to string fencing. Normally this was the kind of brainless job he could enjoy. He could let his body work while his mind roamed free. As a boy, his dreams were simple: a full belly, food for Mama and Hannah, a new book (because although he would have denied it at the time, he secretly loved reading even though all the other boys at the mine would have mocked him for it.)

Sometimes he imagined kicking over a rock and finding a hidden fortune for the family and he would play out an entire scenario of coming home and presenting the money to a grateful, teary eyed Mama. They would move to the grandest house in Strawberry. Mama would dress in the finest clothes; Aunt Hannah would too. Everyone in Strawberry would start calling his Mama "Ma'am" and being nice to her.

As he got older the dreams became a little more realistic: Find a better job. Earn more money to send to Mama. That sort of thing. Some wishes did come true. He had wished for enough money to buy a horse and saddle and the army had given him a small bonus when he mustered out, just enough to purchase his beloved Gal. This enabled him to get a job as a wrangler and send home a little more cash but not a huge amount.

When he first came to the Barkley's he had dreamed of being accepted as one of them and to his astonishment, it came true. Particularly once Nick came around and made it obvious to the valley that anyone who wanted to insult Heath to his face would have to go through his older brother first. Nick was kind of an all or nothing type and once he decided Heath was indeed his brother, that definitely fell into the 'all' category.

Right now, Heath's dreams had gone back to simple: Get Nick and Jarrod back to the same closeness they'd had before that whole court martial mess. They reminded him of two tom cats sitting on opposite side of a porch glaring at each other. Heath felt like knocking their heads together. It was exhausting for him; it was exhausting for Mother and Audra

They weren't currently arguing like they had been but that might change tonight. It was business meeting night and the last meeting had been fairly miserable. Nick and Jarrod were barely talking and the meeting was charged with resentment. The brothers were stiff and overly polite to each other in a way that fooled no one. Heath was considering chaining them together until they worked everything out.

Then there was Nick's current odd behavior for the last few weeks or so: He was showing an unsettling restraint. Incidents that would normally ignite a show of temper would be greeted with gritted teeth as he rapped his knuckles on something, took a deep breath and then calmly gave instructions to hands. It was nice to see him not lose his temper, but it made Heath worry that a major explosion might be coming up. Then again, maybe one wasn't. Heath tried to imagine the worst case scenario: A wrangler comes rushing up

"Nick! I accidently set the barn on fire."

Nick punches through a nearby wall, the politely responds:

"Perhaps we should put it out."

Um…nope. Not chance. Nick might not be his usual self but he also wasn't dead.

Juggling these differing thoughts in his mind, Heath decided to focus on one specific wish: Have tonight's meeting go as smoothly and quickly as possible. That seemed to be a reasonable request for God (or whichever department he delegated to evaluate the wishes of Heath Barkley and determine whether or not to fulfill them.) Heath crossed his fingers and toes and hoped for the best.

BVBVBVBVBVBVBV

The meeting so far was going smoothly if not wrapped in good feelings. Nick had presented his information on the ranch. Heath had outlined actions and information on the mining and timber operations. Jarrod had discussed how the money invested in the stock market was doing. All was going well when Mother asked

"Any new business?"

There was a long silence, then Jarrod stood up looking discomfited and in a halting voice said "I'd like to have more information about that irrigation system Nick proposed. I think we should re-open the discussion."

Heath was surprised, partially because there hadn't been much discussion to re-open and partially because he had gathered it was a dead issue. Why on earth had Jarrod decided to bring it up? From the dumbfounded look on Nick's face, he was equally surprised.

"The irrigation system?" He repeated blankly. "Mine? The one that I suggested?"

Jarrod nodded stiffly.

"I thought you hated the idea!" Nick blurted out.

Jarrod shrugged. "Maybe I was too hasty. I think we should re-examine it and get more information before we decide, that's all."

"I don't have all the plans on me." Nick floundered.

"Then tell us what you can." Jarrod sat backdown.

Nick pulled himself together. "Alright. Well, the problem I see is that we are wasting too much water. We're not just irrigating out crops, we're irrigating the ground all the was to the crops and losing water as a result…."

Heath, surprised, sat back and listened. Boy howdy, that divine wish fulfillment thing came through this time.

BVBVBVBVBVBV

"…..I mean, I couldn't believe it. Just out of the blue Jarrod suddenly brings up the whole irrigation system he wouldn't listen to before and listens to it. He even asked me for more information. I'm going to go dig up my notes tomorrow."

"I'm dying." Doc Marten groaned.

Nick chuffed unsympathetically. "Relax, just relax. Don't clutch the reigns and don't squeeze your legs. And keep your heels down."

"I thought you said riding a horse is easy." Doc Marten bounced unhappily on the trotting horse.

"Well, it is. I mean, once you know what you're doing."

Doc Marten was on Star, a gentle, soft footed mare out of Cocoa that Nick had gifted to him after he had discovered the Doc knew how to drive a carriage but didn't know how to ride. Nick, who firmly felt it was God's intention for everyone to be able to ride as if they were part centaur, had been appalled when he realized his Doctor was unable to do so and resolved to fix that problem.

"You know if you want to kill me you could just cut my throat."

"You're not going to die from sore muscles." Nick said heartlessly.

"I'm getting off."

"You've only been riding for an hour. Ya big baby."

"It's get off or fall off." Doc pointed out.

"Fine." Nick gently pulled the lunge rope to a stop until Doc Marten all but fell out of the saddle.

"Use the stirrups." Nick scolded.

Doc Marten groaned as his feet hit the ground and he started to sit.

"Don't sit down. Walk around and stretch your muscles." Nick advised.

"I'm getting even for this." Doc Marten warned. "One day when you're not expecting it…."

Nick grinned.

"You'll thank me one day." He stroked Stars face for a moment. "Horses are wonderful creatures. Riding a horse isn't like any other feeling in the world. Did you know in Greek mythology horses were created by Poseiden? They were literally a gift from the gods."

"Just remember, divine gifts can be a blessing and a curse. Remember Cassandra? She had the gift of foresight but was cursed to never be believed. Of course, it's no usually so extreme. Usually it's just if you are gifted with something you are obliged to used it to help others. A man may be given the gift of teaching for example, but then he has a responsibility to use it."

Nick was intrigued. "Where'd you learn that?"

Doc grinned. "Divinity student. First year before I decided to switch to medical studies."

"You were going to be a preacher once?" Nick asked in fascination. He never would have taken Doc to be a preacher type.

"I was thinking of it." Doc replied amiably.

"Can I ask you something?" Nick inquired impulsively.

Nick could feel the man studying him for a moment.

"You're going to ask me if I believe God really exists, right?"

"I-uh….. How did you know that?" Once again the Doc had been a step ahead of him.

"Up until a few months ago, everyone I saw was a war Veteran." A slightly twisted smile "Apparently nothing makes one question the existence of God like having your legs ripped from your body by your fellow man. I've heard that question a lot."

"So, you must have an answer then, right?"

"A standard one."

Nick waited impatiently. "Well?"

"What difference does it make?" Doc Marten shrugged.

"What?" Nick felt like someone had whacked him over the head with a board.

"What difference does it make whether or not God I believe God exists? I mean, that's not going to change anything, is it?"

"Uh..That's not the answer I expected."

"Nobody expects it. That's one of the reasons I give it."

Nick felt like he was up to his neck in mud.

"You were gonna be a preacher. Doesn't that automatically mean you should believe in God?"

"What I believe doesn't make a difference. God either exists-or to take the counter argument-doesn't exist whether I believe he does or not. The decision of whether or not to believe in him is strictly up to me. It certainly doesn't affect God."

"Wait a minute," Nick was starting to feel slightly indignant, "That's not what the preacher at church says."

"Yes, but you're not asking the preacher at church, you're asking me. If there is a God, he doesn't draw his strength from men. He doesn't need men. If anything, it's the other way around. So, God's existence is independent of human beings. What I think is irrelevant-or should be-to what you think."

"That's not an answer!" Nick said indignantly.

"Yes, it is, it's just one you don't like. The real question isn't what I believe it's what you believe. So, tell me, do you believe in God?"

"Well, I… Yeah, I think I do." Nick said after a minute.

Doc Marten was amused. "You think you do? This is not really a gray area, Nick. It's not a question of percentages. It's yes or no question."

"All right! Um…I believe in God, but I would like proof."

Doc stared at Nick for a second, then burst into laughter.
"Proof? You want proof that God exists?"

Nick was feeling flustered.

"I'm not demanding trumpets from heaven, just the occasional small miracle here or there. An angel maybe. If there's God there must be angels, and this world could certainly use a few. So, where are they?"

With an effort Doc Martin got his laughter under control.

"Nick, do you know what you call faith backed up with cold, hard physical evidence?"

'No." Nick said a bit sulkily.

"SCIENCE! Let me tell you a secret. Faith isn't what you believe because you have proof. Faith is what you believe without proof. Faith is what you believe because you decide to believe it. And no one can make that decision for you, Nick. Besides, you have all the proof you need."

"What are you talking about?"

"You want angels? You're not looking hard enough!" Doc spread his arms expansively.

"I don't understand." Why couldn't he just get a yes or no answer from the man, Nick thought crossly.

"What do angels do?" The Doc asked.

"They protect us. Keep us from harm. Help us when we're in trouble." That was easy.

"You don't see it?"

Nick shook his head dumbly, thinking inwardly that it was a damn good thing he was not quite as short tempered as he used to be or he possibly already would have clocked Doc Marten out of sheer frustration.

Doc Marten grinned. "You're working way too hard. Relax. Let it float around. It'll come to you." He tied his horse to the carriage and climbed inside. "See you on Tuesday!"

"Hey Doc!"

"Yes?"

"Make sure you bring Star again. Your gonna practice 'til you stop sitting on that horse like a sack of potatoes."

Doc Marten laughed.