Nick couldn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about Heath. In his heart, he was still doubtful. He needed to be, for his family's sake and for loyalty to his father's memory. They all seemed to be so sure: his siblings, and Mother above all the others. But, Nick wasn't. He still couldn't believe his father had done what they all seemed to believe he had done with Heath's mother and had then "forgotten", willingly or not, to check on the aftermath. It wasn't like him to act recklessly. He was a man of strong principles: to have a son out of wedlock wasn't one of those.
Then again, he could feel a sense of familiarity when he was with Heath. It was something he couldn't define but that was unmistakably there, stronger day after day. He had been observing how his siblings were around the newcomer. Jarrod was intrigued by the young man, Audra already loved Heath like she loved all her brothers.
Heath clearly enjoyed working on the ranch, seemed to be born to it, and was surprisingly skilled, for one coming from a mining town. He had to admit to himself it had been a pleasure to have him working by his side, in the few weeks he had been with them. They were beginning to form a relationship… a friendship. Despite himself and the unkind thoughts he had had just minutes before, Nick smiled inwardly. Since he could remember, he had known Jarrod's life would be wholly dedicated to the law. His youngest brother, Eugene, was a good boy, and worshiped his older brothers, especially Nick. But, despite his loyalty toward him, Gene was much more like Jarrod. Like their eldest brother, he loved to read more than to ride. He was bound to become a doctor or a veterinarian… or maybe a poet as far as Nick knew, since he still was a little confused about the path he would follow. But, he was young and a good student. He would no doubt succeed in whatever he'd choose. One thing Nick knew for sure: Eugene would never spend his life working on the ranch.
Now, talking about the ranch, Nick had other reasons to be worried. He had followed his family's instructions and had talked to the men the very first day, making it clear that, being a Barkley, Heath was going to be one of the bosses. Some of them had preferred to pack their things and leave, rather than taking orders from "a bastard". In his bed, with his eyes closed, Nick frowned. Before Heath had come, Nick didn't know words could be so hurtful. That they could cut like a knife. "Bastard" was always pronounced with disdain, and it was extremely unpleasant to him, repulsive, odious. And, since Heath had come, that word seemed to be following them everywhere.
Nick knew all too well that some of the hands had stayed just because they needed the job. He knew some of them hadn't accepted Heath, yet. Hell, he was sure some of them would never accept him. How could they, if he was the first one doubting him? That was going to be a big problem. In fact, although Heath wouldn't talk about it, Nick knew he had had more than a fight already, one that very day. He had seen him storm into the house, his face bruised, his clothes dirty and ragged. He had climbed the stairs two steps at the time and slammed his room's door. He hadn't even joined the family for dinner, having appointed Silas to advise them about his lack of appetite. Nick knew better than that, but had just pretended not to see: Heath was a very private man and didn't look like one who was willing to have a friendly talk, that day.
Maybe, he had been selfish. Maybe, the boy would accept a helping hand, maybe he needed someone, a friend. And, he had ignored him. Darn. Why were those thoughts tormenting him? All he wanted to do, now, was to sleep. Well, he couldn't deny that, notwithstanding his doubts, he did like Heath, whoever he was, and had to admit he didn't deserve such a bad treatment and disrespect from the men. Feeling guilty and uncomfortable, Nick turned on his other side in his bed. From now on, he wasn't going to lose sight of the boy until things changed. They said time fixed everything, and if it wouldn't, Nick would fix things his way. With this resolution taken, he sighed in satisfaction, allowing himself to finally relax and surrender to sleep.
But, his sleep was far too short. Suddenly, he woke up to a sound, a thud, followed by a crushing noise, like breaking glass. He sat on the bed and listened carefully. Now, he could hear a muffled sound, a sobbing he could say. He rushed out of bed and out of his room. Heath's room was just across his own, and the sounds were coming from there. He opened the door and found the young man sitting on the floor, torn sheets all around him. Falling from his bed, he had evidently hit the pitcher that was on the night table, dragging it down with him, and now bits of broken china were scattered all over on the floor.
Nick made a couple of steps inside the room, then froze. He couldn't move further. It hit him like a blow in the stomach. The sight of Heath's face. The sight of Heath's tears. They were freely coming down his closed eyes, along his cheeks. He was clearly sleeping, still in the grip of some terrifying nightmare. And, that cry. Those moans. It was heartwrenching. Fighting against the force that seemed to be holding him still, anchored to the ground, Nick cautiously crouched in front of Heath and put both hands on his shoulders, shaking him lightly, speaking just above a whisper.
"Heath, wake up… Heath!"
Heath opened his confused eyes, startled notwithstanding his brother's uncharacteristic tact. As soon as he acknowledged someone's presence in front of him, he raised his gaze toward Nick. Their eyes locked and Nick's heart leaped in his chest. They had never been that close before: Heath had Father's eyes. But it wasn't just about their color or shape. There was much more to it: they were lit by the same light. It was what that was behind those eyes, that made them look so strikingly alike. The overall resemblance was stunning. And, Nick was seeing all that just now. He was eventually seeing what his mother had seen from the first moment she had laid her eyes on this boy, he was now seeing what he couldn't or wouldn't see before: what he now knew it was the truth. For the first time, Nick felt absolutely sure that this young man – Heath – was indeed his brother. It was like a veil had been removed from his eyes, like he was seeing him for the first time. Heath was his brother, and this knowledge wasn't going to change. Not ever.
Under his brother's eyes, Heath felt scrutinized. He lowered his gaze, embarrassed, blushing. As soon as he realized that, Nick took a moment to put back together a resemblance of composure. He was feeling like he had just climbed a mountain, that fast his heart was racing. But, his brother was the one in need of help.
"Hey, there's nothing to be ashamed of, Heath", Nick said softly, "It was just a bad dream, it happens to the best of us", he tried to joke. He stood and proffered his hand. "Here, let me help", he said.
Heath raised his eyes again to look at him, and again Nick felt his heart leap. On Heath's face appeared the lopsided smile Nick was beginning to get used to, as he accepted the proffered hand.
"Thanks, Nick", he said.
"Oh, never mind, that's what brothers do", Nick replied in that gruff tone of his, smiling broadly.
Heath sat on the bed and Nick sat beside him. "Do you want to talk about it? Does this have something to do with what happened with the men, yesterday?" Nick asked.
"How do you know?" Heath asked in surprise, frowning slightly.
"To know what's going on here is my job, boy, and I take my job very seriously", Nick replied, his tone somewhere between serious and humorous.
Heath thought for a while, without getting the joke in his brother's voice, far too distraught for that. With his eyes low, he nodded slowly, sighing heavily. "That probably... probably triggered a reaction. I happen to be plagued by nightmares, from time to time… I never know if something might cause them, or when it's going to happen, they come with no warning", he said sheepishly, like he was revealing some shameful truth about himself. "Look , Nick, I'm very sorry for having woken you", he added turning his face toward Nick's, suddenly aware of the fact he had disturbed his brother's sleep, the usual worry about the opinion this brother had of him beginning to resurface.
"Aw, no need to be sorry Heath. Don't be. I'm your brother and I'm willing to help, if I can and you'll let me".
Heath's mouth fell open. Had he got Nick's words right? Was it possible…? Could it be likely that this stubborn, ornery man who barely tolerated him had had a change of heart? All of sudden? And why? He wasn't stupid, he knew Nick hadn't believed his story about their father. But, yet…
In the silence that followed Nick's last spoken words, time seemed to stand still, and he began to feel uneasy. He wasn't used to sitting quietly. On the contrary, his instinct was to pace restlessly, when he had something in his mind. It helped him to think, to work things out. But, now, it just didn't seem the right thing to do. Nick took a deep breath. He had to say something, anything to break the silence, now. He had to leave, there was nothing he could do, here. It was clear Heath didn't want his help. But, when he was almost going to bid Heath goodnight and leave the room, his younger brother's calm voice reached his ears. He spoke flatly, almost absently, like if he was talking about someone else, not about himself. "I spent seven months in Carterson at the end of the war", he said without preamble, keeping his eyes on his feet.
"What?" Nick was incredulous. "How can it be, I was too young myself, but you… you couldn't have been more than a kid by the end of the war. Carterson? How the hell…?" Nick's words froze on his lips. Heath was nodding, gaze still downcast.
Nick shook his head, shocked at what he had just learned. Instinctively, he reached out and propped his arm around the boy's shoulders, in a reassuring gesture, just like he would have done with either of his other siblings. Heath didn't complain, maybe he wasn't even aware Nick was there, lost in his memories. "I've seen things…", Heath said, his voice just above a whisper, "things I just want to forget, things I buried in the most hidden part of my mind. But, at times, they come back haunting me in my dreams. I can't help it." He shook his head: why was he telling these things to Nick? He was his brother, yes, yet still a perfect stranger to him. Was he actually revealing his most hidden secrets to this man? Again, he silently shook his head in disbelief of his own actions and words. But, then, he heard Nick's words.
"I'm sorry, Heath, I'm so sorry. No man should have been in a place like that, let alone a kid". Nick swallowed back the tears of sorrow and anger he was feeling come to the surface. He tightened his hold on Heath. He wanted to make him feel his closeness, ease his pain with his warmth. He couldn't go back in time to undo what had been done. He couldn't change the past. But, maybe he could do something now. He could carry part of Heath's weight.
Heath was suddenly aware of Nick's arm around his shoulders. He wasn't used to physical contacts, not since his mother's death. Nick's gestures and words brought tears to his eyes. Tears, for the surprise of having found a helping hand just when he needed it. Tears, for he realized this man was caring. Tears, for this man who was caring was his brother, and he suddenly knew something had changed between the two of them, that a bond was being forming, that from now on he could trust this man. Tears of joy, for a change.
Nick's heart was broken. He, himself had seen horrible things in the war and had had his share of nightmares. He turned his head as he pulled away to better see the boy's face, to see those eyes again, their father's eyes. To feel again that leap of recognition in his heart. "You're here now, Heath, and you're safe", he said reassuringly. "Now, you need to go back to bed. You have to be in good shape, you know. This is a working ranch, boy, and the morning is coming soon. You know what? I'll stay here and wait until you're asleep", he said, no trace of hesitation in his voice. He went to the wardrobe and fetched a new set of sheets, then quickly made the bed.
Heath dried his face with his hand, following his brother's movements with his eyes. "There's no need…", he begun, just to be interrupted by Nick's resolute voice. "No, don't say that. I wasn't sleeping anyway, and we both can use some company".
Heath nodded, smiling sadly, and climbed the freshly made bed, finding it soft and comfortable. He turned on his flank, between the sheets. "Thanks, Nick", he said again. Then, tired and feeling finally safe, he immediately fell into a dreamless sleep. "You're welcome, Heath", Nick replied after a moment, knowing the boy was already fast asleep and couldn't hear him. He put a hand on Heath's arm and shook his head.
He couldn't say exactly when it had begun, probably sometime that same night, but, beyond the acknowledgment of their kinship, he did feel something for this boy, and it wasn't just sympathy for what he had just heard.
Could it be brotherly love?