"Heath! My God, what happened?" Leah cried out, hurrying toward her boy. She reached him and picked him up. He was drenched to the bone and covered in bruises. "What happened sweetheart?", she insisted. Heath had hidden his face in the space between her neck and shoulder, his little body trembling in her arms.
She brought her son inside the cabin, put him down in front of the fireplace and began to undress him drying his body with a towel. He wouldn't speak, letting her take care of him. He needed his mama to take care of him. She put a blanket on his shoulders to keep him warm.
Leah looked at her son. At eight years old, he was far beyond his age. But, right now, he looked just like the little boy he was. Leah and Hannah did the laundry for the hotel, but they were paid so poorly they wouldn't survive. After school Heath worked at the livery stable, and on the weekends he helped in the kitchen at the hotel while Leah served the tables. That day Martha had asked that him to stay and wash the dishes. Leah had reluctantly left him behind. She knew that wasn't right, but they needed the little he was able to gain.
Heath wouldn't look her in the eyes. He kept hearing his uncle's angry voice. The words he had thrown at him made him feel dirty inside.
Leah kneeled in front of him, put a hand under his chin and lifted his head, her worried eyes searching for answers. Those beautiful blue eyes, so like her Tom's were so serious. When had it been the last time she had heard him laugh?
"Who did this to you?" she asked softly. "Tell me my son."
Heath let out a shuddering sigh. He'd rather not tell, but had to answer when his mama asked him something. He'd never lie or hide anything to her. "Uncle Matt", he said quickly, then dropped his eyes again.
At the mention of her brother's name, Leah felt as if she was swelling inside with rage and indignation. How had he dared to touch her precious son?
"Oh Heath, I'm so sorry". Leah enveloped her little boy in her arms, holding him tight, his face pressed against her shoulder. How had so much hatred grown within her brother's heart, to the point of harming a little boy, his own nephew? Matt had beaten her more than once. She knew he was instigated by his wife, mostly. He had changed since he had married that awful woman. But this… Oh no not this. There were no excuses for such a vile act. She clenched her jaws tight and closed her eyes squeezing bitter tears past her lids. She'd make him pay for this.
She began to rub Heath's back. "Tell me what happened, Sweetheart", she whispered in his ear.
"He said I stole food from the kitchen, but I didn't mama I swear I didn't. But he said Aunt Martha had seen me. He grabbed me and…" Heath's voice broke and he began to sob. Leah was still holding him, still rubbing his back.
"Oh, Darling. It's over, now. I'm here and won't let anything happen to you. Never again. Now please Heath, tell me what else happened". She spoke reassuringly, fighting to take control over her anger and don't let it transpire in her voice. She needed to encourage her boy and make him talk. She wanted to know everything, anything that had happened to him. Matt had no idea of what she could do for her son. No idea.
"He said he'd show me what a little petty thief like me deserves. He dragged me to the river and then he… he tore off that branch from a tree and beat me. He was yelling at me… said a bastard like me wasn't worth living."
Leah's anger was growing at each word her boy was speaking. She thought she was going to explode. But she had to keep calm. Her son needed her now, needed her strength. She swallowed her tears. "Go on, Sweetheart. What happened then?"
Leah heard her son's voice say the unthinkable. "He grabbed me by my shirt and threw me into the river. He said I would've done you a favor if I'd drown, and that he wished my father had drowned too, before he… he… did what he did to you…". Heath couldn't speak anymore. He was openly crying now, his breath coming in little gulps, his entire body shaking.
Leah was still holding him, her hand gently rubbing his back, reassuringly. "Shhh… He was lying Sweetheart." Not a word of what he said is true. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me and I love you so much." Leah sighed. "You won't have to see that man again, Heath, I promise."
"But, mama, we need the money", the little, raspy voice came from her shoulder.
"Don't worry Sweetheart, I accepted Aunt Rachel's offer. She's the best seamstress in town and she's having so many requests she can't do it all by herself. And, I'm not that bad myself. You are done working my son, and that's final."
"But mama, I like my job at the livery." Heath's sobs had subdued. Leah couldn't help a little smile at her son's statement. Her boy sure loved horses. "You'll keep your job at the livery, then", she said conciliatorily.
Heath pulled away and looked at his mama. He sniffed back his tears, wiping the remaining moisture from his eyes with his hand, then looked at her seriously. "Mama, who is my father?", he asked.
Leah cupped his cheeks with both her hands. "He's the best man I have ever known", she replied with a loving smile. When she smiled like that, it was like a light spread from her eyes, enlightening her beautiful face. Every time it happened, Heath felt like a part of that light reached his heart, making him feel warm inside. He smiled back at her. For the moment, her answer was enough for him.
When Nick arrived at the barn, Jarrod was dismounting. He walked rapidly past his brother toward Coco's stall. "Afternoon, Counselor", he said nonchalantly, trying to avoid any other questioning, his need to find his younger brother growing by the minute.
Jarrod interjected his hurrying brother grabbing his arm.
"Wait a moment Nick, where are you going?"
"Heath went for a ride and I'm going to join him", Nick replied freeing himself from his brother's grasp with a quick tug.
"Maybe he wanted to be alone, for a change don't you think, Nick?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Then, why didn't he ask you to join him from the beginning? He's a grown man, Nick."
"Now, Jarrod, have you been talking with Mother? I'm joining him whether he likes it or not."
"Tell me what's eating you, Nick?"
Nick was back at his task, putting the saddle on Coco's back. "I don't know Jarrod, I don't like him out there alone. It's been three hours and he should be back by now. Now, if you'll excuse me…", he said and mounted.
"I'm coming with you."
"Who am I to tell you not to", Nick said. He hadn't realized how much he needed his big brother's reassuring presence at his side. But, now he knew he did.
"I think I know where he'd go. Let's go", Jarrod said, resolutely.
When he opened his eyes at the freezing cold enveloping his whole body, he didn't know why he was there or what had happened. He was surrounded by the water. There was water below and there was water above. His eyes open wide with fear, he began to swim toward the surface, his lungs yearning for air. His movements were slow, too slow. He was weak, his mind beginning to be incoherent. This would have been his end.
There, alone, he would have died.
The surface was nearer now. But he hadn't anymore time.
When they arrived at the bridge, they found Heath's little black mare, but no traces of their brother. Nick dismounted and quickly approached the shore. He saw Heath's hat upside down on the grass and bent to grab it. It was then that he saw it: a blood-soaked branch. Then, blood on the grass. Too much blood on the grass.
He let go of the hat, turned toward the river and began to run.
"Hurry Jarrod", he cried out, the water already at his waist.
Running toward the river, his heart hammering in his chest, Jarrod saw his brother disappear under the surface.
He thought he was home, the familiar aroma coming from the kitchen where he knew Hannah was preparing his special chicken soup. He heard his stomach grumble in yearning, despite a stabbing headache. He managed to lift his heavy eyelids.
He was home, indeed, but not in Strawberry. He was home in his room at the Barkley Ranch.
The window was open, a light breeze coming in, and the room was full of light. In that light he saw her coming graciously toward him with a tray in her hands.
"Good morning, Heath, you must be hungry. Silas made his special chicken soup just for you, it will bring back your strength in no time. Would you make a try for me?"
"What… what happened?", Heath asked.
"Someone hit you hard on the head… with a branch", Victoria said disgusted, "Then they threw you into the river. Fortunately, Jarrod and Nick had come to join you and managed to pull you out."
"That's why my head seems to be ready to explode at any moment", he groaned, raising his hand, his fingers touching the bandage on his forehead.
"Doctor Merar said you need plenty of rest. You had a deep gash on your head, he stitched you but you lost a good amount of blood. Do you remember what happened, Heath? "
"No. I guess a was sleeping. I'm sorry for causing so much trouble."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Heath.
But those men… they'll be sorry when… if... Nick finds out who did this to you."
Heath couldn't help the little smile that tugged at his lips.
"It seems my sons are making a habit of nearly drowning...they must have inherited it from their father…", she added after a long pause, a graceful smile on her face. She laid the tray on the night table and sat on the edge of Heath's bed watching him intensely.
Heath's heart stopped. She had implicitly called him "son".
She reached out and caressed his face. "You look so much like him". All of sudden, to be like his father didn't seem such a bad thing to Heath. Contrarily, her words were making him feel proud. He blushed, then nodded, smiling shyly. "Yes, Ma'am", he said.
"Oh, now, we're going to have to do something about that. I've been many things to many people, but never "Ma'am. Now, let's put some nourishment into you", she said, resolutely.