Once he was alone again, Heath pulled out a folded sheet of paper and unfolded it with trembling hands. A paperclip slipped out. He picked it up and his fear rapidly turned into pain.
"SEAMSTRESS FOUND DEAD AT THE BOTTOM OF A MINE SHAFT", the title said. He was hardly able to distinguish the letters, as the tears welled in his eyes. The article said that the woman had been found dead with no evidence of any crime and that the case had been dismissed as death by accidental cause. There was even a little picture. Heath caressed the beloved face with his fingers. Aunt Rachel wasn't his real aunt; she had been his mother's best friend and a blessing in their lives. She was a wise, strong-willed woman. She was part of their little family, and he had loved her.
And now she was dead. What was she doing in that mine? Something just wasn't right.
Hannah must have sent the letter, along with the paperclip, after Aunt Rachel's death. The handwriting on the envelope probably belonged to the post office clerk, as Hannah couldn't read, or write. It simply said "Heath Barkley, The Barkley Ranch, Stockton, CA". A short-lived smile passed on his lips at the thought of Hannah asking the clerk to write the address.
Heath put down the paperclip and glanced at the letter which had contained it. Aunt Rachel's neat handwriting filled both sides of the sheet.
He sighed painfully. As he began reading, he actually heard Aunt Rachel's loving voice pronounce the words.
"My dearest Heath,
First of all, I need to warn you. The Simmons, somehow have come to know where you are. They knew your father and know everything about the Barkleys. They came to Hannah and me. They said they'd ask your father's family compensation for what they have done for you and your mother. That makes me laugh and I told them. We know all too well what they have done. I told them I wouldn't allow anything like that.
But oh Heath, Hannah's so scared. They caught her alone and threatened her. They are evil people Heath, and they are dangerous. Martha sends shivers down my spine. I'm seriously afraid she has definitely lost the little sanity she still had.
I'll go to the hotel, this afternoon and make clear they don't have any right to ask your family for any money and to leave Hannah alone. I'm certainly not afraid to give them a piece of my mind. I already did in the past, and your mother… Well, I don't think Matt will ever forget what your mother did. He's scared of me, and rightly so. I still have my late husband's gun and I'll use it if need be.
And now, let me tell you how happy I am for you my child that you found your father's family and that they accepted you. We both are, Hannah and me. You have finally found the happiness you've been looking for all your life. Life wasn't fair to you now you take your share of joy. Take the share of love you deserve. You'll be loved, I'm sure. They'll love you for who you are.
I have had the privilege to know Tom Barkley when he came to Strawberry. Your mother didn't lie to you when she said he was the best men she had ever known. He was a great man. He had courage, pride and leadership. And you are so much like him.
He made a mistake when he fell for her, but I'm telling you he couldn't avoid that. She was so easy to love, too easy to love. And love her he did. Forgive him his weakness, Heath. He never knew about you. Leah never told him. Your mother never stopped loving him; she did her whole life, till her last breath.
Now, you need to forget about the past and embrace your future. Be proud, for you have a right to be proud. Accept your family without fear; open up your heart to the love they have to give you. You are taking what is rightly yours.
Love, always
Aunt Rachel".
By the moment his eyes had reached the end of the letter, Heath had willingly surrendered and embraced the pain of his loss. He couldn't believe she had gone. It was like she knew exactly how he was feeling at the moment. Every word she had written seemed to be seized on his present feelings. Oh, she knew him so well.
One drop fell down on the letter, right on the word "Simmons". The ink blurred. He passed his fingertip on it and the word disappeared, leaving just a stain. How he wished it was as easy to make the real Simmons disappear from his life.
When the rider came near enough to be recognized, Jarrod couldn't believe his eyes. From the Barkleys' private car window, he was actually watching his brother Heath race the train. His mouth dropped open in disbelief.
With his heart slamming in his chest, he passed through another car, and then another, trying not to lose sight of him. The other passengers were on their feet shouting, inciting.
Jarrod arrived at the last car and went outside. The world seemed to stop as, like in a slow motion, he watched his brother cross the railway in front of the locomotive… just in time. He watched him spur his horse and gallop away.
Once back in his car, still bewildered, Jarrod let himself drop into his seat. He was finding it hard to breathe. What on earth did that mean? It was like Heath was challenging his destiny to a mortal duel.
It was like his brother had nothing to lose.
Nick and Heath walked into the house, both very dirty. Heath watched his tired brother get rid of the dust vigorously slapping both hands on his pants, causing it to fall on their mother's carpet. He smiled amused at the scolding he was already seeing come.
Nick was no longer trying to keep him under control, and their relationship was now more relaxed, much like a relationship between brothers should be. This had had the effect to strengthen their bond. No one who saw them together could ever imagine they had known each other just a few months. Heath, first, felt like they had always known each other, like he had found a long time lost part of himself.
Since Barrett had left, even the ranch hands seemed to have accepted him, and Heath was feeling growingly confident about himself and his role on the ranch and in the family.
He hadn't forgotten about the letter. He had in mind to go soon to Strawberry, to check on Hannah and make sure his uncle and aunt stayed away from the old woman. He couldn't shake off the bad feeling they had something to do with Aunt Rachel's death.
But the cattle drive was around the corner. He couldn't leave, not now. Nick needed him. Not that his brother had told him anything, but he could just feel it, and it felt good.
"I'll see you at dinner, Nick, I need a bath", Heath said.
"Yeah, I think you could use one", Nick smirked, patting Heath's back, causing more dust to rise up and land on the floor.
"You don't smell like flowers yourself, big brother", Heath retorted. Nick's loud laugh followed him upstairs.
The front door flung open and a blonde hurricane stormed straight upstairs. Victoria, who was coming out of the kitchen that very moment, a disgusted expression on her face at the sight of the dirt her son had brought in her foyer, felt her words die on her lips.
She joined Nick. Their astonished eyes raised up toward the second floor and they jumped as they heard the door to Audra's room slam shut. They looked into each other's eyes, alarmed. Nick began to move but his mother's small hand on his arm stopped him. "I'll go, Nicholas", Victoria said. Nick nodded.
When she was midway upstairs, Victoria turned and called her son's name.
"Yes, Mother?"
"Take a bath".
"Yes, Mother" .
When a fresh bathed Nick entered the study about one hour later , there were no more traces of the dusty cowboy who had walked into the house earlier. He looked less tired, although he couldn't hide his concern. He went to the liquor tray and helped himself.
He turned at the sound of Victoria's steps. She was visibly shaken, and let herself drop on the settee.
"How is she?" Nick asked, pouring some sherry and handing it to her.
"She's very upset, Nick. She cried herself to sleep. I don't think we'll have the pleasure of her company at dinner".
Nick frowned. "What happened?"
Victoria sighed. "More defections of her birthday party".
Nick slammed his hand against his thigh in frustration. How could some people be so narrow-minded was beyond him. "Heath?", he asked, knowing the answer already.
"I'm afraid he is the reason. I thought it would change over time, but it's becoming more and more difficult every day. Sometimes I wish…" Victoria couldn't finish the sentence. The last words she had spoken had sounded weak, with that little cry in her voice she couldn't help when she was very emotional. Victoria's eyes, bright with unshed tears, turned to Tom Barkley's portrait.
Nick frowned. "You wish what, Mother? That Heath had never come?"
Outside, Heath removed his hand from the doorknob. His heart had dropped at the meaning of the words he had just heard. The world around him was crumbling down, the ground opening beneath his feet. He fought to regain control, then turned on his heels toward the staircase. His legs were weak, as if they didn't belong to him, and he grabbed the banister for support. He slowly climbed the stairs, back to his room.
Silas, who was coming, unnoticed, out of the kitchen and had observed the scene, shook his head and continued toward the dining room.
"Oh, Nick, how can you think that? I just wish your father was here to handle things. I feel so helpless… I can't stand all this suffering. I'm sorry for Audra, but Heath's the one who paying the highest price".
Nick glanced at his father portrait as well, resisting the urge to throw the glass he had in his hand at him. The man he had worshiped his whole life had failed them all so badly. "I can't forgive Father for what he did to us… to him", he hissed with anger.
Nick's words hurt like a knife in Victoria's heart. She spoke with passion, defending the husband she still loved, the man she missed every day. "He was an imperfect man, your father, in so many ways that could hurt. But he never destroyed, only built and gave life".
Nick shook his head. "Is what he could have done but didn't, Mother. Why wasn't he there for Heath, like he was for the rest of us? The way Heath was raised without guidance, without a father, without him…", Nick raised his glass toward the portrait, then gulped down his whiskey. He closed his eyes for a moment. There wasn't anger in his next words, just sadness. "Now it seems all forgotten, but when he was recovering, Heath kept saying those senseless things about what he is and about those things that will never change… He scared me, and Audra. I don't want to lose him, Mother".
Victoria raised her hand to tenderly touch the side of Nick's face. She was deeply moved by her gruff son's words of affection. Nick had a heart of gold, but didn't often openly talk about his feelings. "Oh, Nick, I don't want to lose him either. No mother wants to lose her own child".
Heath was in his room, his back against the closed door, breathing hard. He had to calm down and think. He had to decide what to do. He still couldn't believe what his ears had heard. Mrs. Barkley had said she wished he had never come. His heart sunk at the realization of how easily he had slipped back to "Mrs. Barkley". He had grown to love her like she was his true mother and was so proud to call her such, the same way all of her children did.
Heath let himself slide toward the floor and sat there, his head in his hands. He had been so sure they all reciprocated his feelings… But now, he had no more certainties.
He couldn't blame them, though. The Barkleys had lost some of their friends because of him, lifetime friends. Audra, his little sister, was hurting bad, and it was all his fault. He couldn't close his eyes not to see what he didn't like. He could no longer pretend everything was alright.
He was ruining their lives, that's what he was doing to them.
They say, when you love someone, sometimes you have to let them go. He felt like drowning in the sea of pain that overflowed from his heart, overwhelming his whole being, at the mere thought of losing them. His every cell was screaming "no!". But, did he really have a choice?
He wiped his tears away with his shirt sleeve: now that he had made a decision, his breath evened and his heart slowed. Like many other times in his life, he raised a wall between himself and his emotions. He just had to do the right thing.
Nick was beside himself with worry. He was beside himself with anger. Silas had told them what he had seen. Now, for a damn stupid misunderstanding, Heath had left. He had thrown away all that they had built.
That boy still had to learn what being part of a family was. He still had to learn what being part of THEIR family was. They stuck together, no matter what.
Nick was worried beyond words. He was angry beyond words. He was riding hard, he had been riding for hours, and wouldn't stop until he'd find Heath and bring him home, even if he had to knock some sense into his brother's thick skull the old-fashioned way.