When he heard the echo of a rifle shot from inside the cabin, Heath stopped thinking. He launched himself with his shoulder against the nearest window and stumbled inside. The window glass broke and crashed noisily into a thousand pieces on the floor. Heath was back on his feet in a matter of seconds, his knife in his hand scanning the room trying to adjust his vision to the dim light. His eyes widened at the sight before his eyes.
Barrett's dead body was sprawled in a pool of blood on the floor against the wall like a broken doll.
Martha Simmons was on the floor as well, a screaming fury. Her legs were trapped in Nick's arms and she was kicking wildly struggling to free herself. Heath quickly reached his brother dropped the knife and picked up the rifle that she had evidently lost when Nick had grasped her legs, and quickly aimed at her.
"Martha!" he called her. She turned her head toward him, trying to focus his face with blank eyes. "Stop it, Martha. It's over". She stopped her frantic movements. Nick let go of her and moved aside relieved, panting. He quickly reached Hannah and draped a protective arm around her thin shoulders. She rested her head against his shoulder.
Martha's hands went to her head as she pointlessly tried to fix stray locks of hair back in her bun. She stared at her nephew.
The corners of her mouth dropped downward, her eyebrows narrowed. She inhaled deeply, before speaking. "I knew! I knew it was you! Where is Matt? What have you done to my husband? Where is Matt, I asked!" she demanded, spitting out each word with such a hatred that it was like a slap in Heath's face.
After all those years, it still hurt.
Unexpectedly, Hannah's voice reached them.
"My Heath has done nothing. Your husband is dead. I shot him. I did, may God have mercy on me. I killed that evil man".
As he tightened his embrace around the old woman's trembling shoulders, Nick raised his eyes on his brother's.
Their eyes locked for a moment, but Heath temporarily buried his questions about his brother's presence there in the back of his mind and turned his eyes back to the woman he had known all his life. Hannah had killed Matt Simmons! The little woman he had always considered helpless and fragile had saved his life!
Heath's train of thought was interrupted by Martha's voice. "Matt? Maaaatt!", she called, as she had done earlier, when she had erupted in the cabin.
Heath, Nick and Hanna watched her push herself up and adjust her long brown skirt with her hands. She walked through the still open door and went outside. "Maaaatt? Maaaaatt?" they heard her shout again and again, her voice becoming more distant as she began to run.
For the entire scene, Heath had kept his uncle's rifle on his aunt, and was now watching the empty space where she had been until moments before. At the sound of Hannah's subdued sobs, he turned his head. Hannah was now huddled in Nick's arms, as his brother was gently brushing her shoulders.
Heath dropped the rifle and quickly joined them.
Strawberry was a dusty dying town, but the little garden surrounding the green cabin where Hannah and Heath's mother once lived together was lush.
The air was warm, and it was so good to just be there together. The sweet perfume coming from the roses bushes lingering around, an occasional flying insect buzzing, the somewhat reassuring sound of Hannah's quiet humming from the kitchen, all spoke of family and home, all was a promise of contentment.
Nick would have gladly stayed that way for hours, just lazily enjoying the afternoon and the comfort of the awareness of Heath's presence. They were sitting on the porch steps, Nick just a step above. He looked down at his brother: he seemed relaxed, his injured arm resting on his thigh.
Heath was grateful Nick had come. His presence had certainly saved Hannah's life when Martha Simmons had burst into the cabin. But there was more than that. It made him feel so good to know that his brother had come for him, that he really cared. It was like sitting by the fire on a cold winter day, a warm feeling wrapping his heart and spreading through his whole body from inside. It was like when his mama embraced him as a child, making him made him feel safe, making him feel loved and wanted.
Nick had explained that he had misunderstood the meaning of the words he had overheard, and Heath believed him, but deep inside his soul he was still uncertain. He just couldn't understand why they cared so much for him. They even loved him. He, who was the living proof of Tom Barkley's infidelity. They were ready to give up their friends of a lifetime just for him, the bastard from Strawberry.
Nick had been very clear on the fact that he hadn't the right to take a decision for them, they had made their choice and were ready to face all the consequences. They wanted him to be part of their family no matter what.
What would happen if he went back to Stockton with Nick, like nothing had happened, after the way he had left? Would he still have his brothers' trust? Would his sister still unconditionally love him? And Mother… Was he ready to face Victoria Barkley's wrath? Now, that was funny. He loved her dearly but , boy howdy, that woman could be pretty scary.
Oh, For once, just once, couldn't he just do what his heart was telling him to do? Couldn't he just take what they were freely giving him and be happy? All that he wanted, all that he needed was in Stockton. He just wanted to go back there, at home, to the people he loved. But yet…
From where he was, Nick could clearly see the cuttings the broken window shards of glass had caused, all over the right side of Heath's neck. He knew there was much more under his shirt. He could see Heath thinking hard. He could easily imagine what was going through that head. Maybe he hadn't known his brother long, but Nick just plain knew him. It could read him like a book.
Oh, he knew all too well what Heath was going to say. He sighed and braced himself for the inevitable fight that would come. He was ready.
"I won't come to Stockton, Nick. I can't". Heath spoke quietly, like he was used to.
"For crying out loud, Heath, how many times do I have to explain it was just a misunderstanding?"
Heath was looking toward the horizon. "Nick, try to understand, that doesn't change a thing. If I come back home, all the misery I put you through will come back with me."
Nick didn't miss that little word, "home", accidentally slipped in the middle of Heath's little speech. He fought the urge to stand up and pace, the urge to yell at this stubborn brother of his. Instead, he clung to that word and spoke calmly.
"Do you really think we care about anything else than you, Heath? If you don't come back home with me, then our lives will be miserable. Mother is scared to death that she's going to lose you. I am scared to death, Heath. I don't want to lose you".
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a worry. I shouldn't have come in the first place. Just because I'm Tom Barkley's son, it didn't mean I had the right to ruin your lives".
Nick struggled not to lose his temper, but it wasn't easy. Certainly not for him.
"Now, this is just great. Tom Barkley has nothing to do with this. You still don't get it, do you? We don't want you because you are Father's son. We want you because we love you!"
For a long moment neither spoke. Everything seemed to stand still. Nick became aware, once again, of all the sounds in the background.
"Say Nick, that horse, Charger, he's very well trained, isn't he?", Heath said, changing the subject.
"Charger? You bet he is, why?"
"You know, I'll need a well-trained cutting horse for the cattle drive".
"The cattle drive? What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'm coming to the cattle drive with you. Riding Charger".
"You're coming…" As soon as he realized what Heath was really saying, Nick laughed, and Heath soon joined him. It was a balm to Nick's heart. He wasn't even sure he had ever heard him laugh before.
Nick put his hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezed. "I still want to punch you, Heath", he revealed to his brother in a whisper, making him laugh yet harder.
Hannah's head peeped around the door jamb, the white bandages standing out against her dark hair and skin.
"Dinner is ready, boys", she said with her shy smile.
Nick immediately stood, all his confidence back. "Let's go, Heath, I'm starving!"
"Boy howdy, I promise you won't believe your eyes, Hannah. Big brother here eats for two", Heath said joining his brother, feeling as lighthearted as never before.
"How many times have I told you you're not funny, Heath?" Nick asked, smiling broadly, as they walked together inside the cabin.