When he was sure his brother was fast asleep Nick literally collapsed in the armchair he had moved near the bed. He was exhausted. It had been going on for days since they had come back from Strawberry.
But Nick's exhaustion wasn't just due to the lack of sleep. What was taking a toll on him most of all was to be the helpless witness of Heath's distress again and again.
Heath's nightmares were now his own nightmares. They were living creatures, wild beasts that revealed themselves in the shadows of the night, thirsty for blood, their sharp fangs ready to penetrate his brother's tender flesh.
And he… he was the helpless bystander. All he could do was watch the drama unfold before his eyes.
Nick combed his hair with his hand and sighed. Trying to sleep, now, was just impossible. He tiredly rose and stood by his brother's bed. Heath's face was now still, peaceful. He had already fought his demons that night, but Nick had no doubt they would come back the next night, and the night after that. Would it ever end?
Heath was clearly happy to be home. He was wholly a part of the family now. They all loved him and needed him in their lives and he knew that. But then again, Nick knew that in a corner of his heart, his brother still held a doubt, a fear that their love wouldn't last, that he didn't deserve it and that he couldn't fully trust them with all his heart. That given the occasion they would demonstrate their loyalty toward him wasn't so unwavering. It was up to them to prove differently and Nick had every intention to prove differently.
The ranch hands treated him like he deserved, as a Barkley. It was a period of hard work. The cattle roamed the open range and the cowboys would comb the land and find every single head of cattle belonging to the Barkley herd, in order to gather them before the annual cattle drive. The new calves had to be cut from the herd, caught and branded. Heath seemed to be born to it. He and his new horse, Charger, formed a formidable duo.
The thought that soon the two of them would be together as trail bosses for the first time brought a smile on Nick's lips.
Everything seemed to be just perfect.
But that was just during the daytime. At night it was another story.
The scene was always the same. After a few hours of mercifully peaceful sleep, Nick would wake up at the muffled sound of someone crying. By the time he'd reach his brother's room, Heath was already fighting, tossing and turning, drenched in sweat.
Bracing himself to what he knew was going to happen, Nick would sit on the edge of Heath's bed, pointlessly talking to him, softly calling his name, hoping his words would put an end to it. But it never happened. He knew soon the talk would come. God… It was heart-wrenching to hear his proud, brave, strong brother beg for mercy.
Heath would grow increasingly agitated, and that was the worst part. Nick had to wrestle him, restrain him, trying to keep him from hurting himself.
Finally, Heath would wake up at the sound of his own screams. He'd watch Nick with unfocused eyes, without recognizing him, his mind still full of his horrific visions. It was hurtful to watch those eyes, those expressive, intelligent blue eyes, stare blankly into nothing, emptied of all their light, of all their shrewdness.
Nick would soothe his brother, talking softly, comforting him in every way he could. Finally a broken, ashamed, mortified Heath would let him make the bed.
"Thank you, Nick", he would simply murmur. Very soon the sleep would claim him and Nick would be alone.
But it wasn't over, not for Nick. That was the time for useless questions and impossible answers.
Why? Why was this happening now?
The sad truth was that he knew the answer. Heath's demons came from his past, from his childhood, personified in his uncle and aunt. The fact he had seen them again and all that had happened in Strawberry had been the trigger to the resurgence of his nightmares. But Nick knew that that was just a small part of it all. He knew that those demons had grown and thrived during the war and especially in the months his brother had spent in Carterson. Nick knew Heath's deepest and darkest secrets. He knew all that had happened to his brother in that hell hole, at the hands of Matt Bentell and his guards.
Now, this all could have been avoided if only their father…..Why? Why hadn't their father checked on Heath's mother? Why? Why wasn't Nick there when his brother needed him? Oh, he knew all too well that it couldn't be, but it sure as hell should have been.
And again, what could Nick do NOW to help him? Was there a way that Heath could get rid of those nightmares for good? Was there a way he could live the life he deserved, and be happy?
Oh, Father, why? Oh, God, why, why, why? A sob of despair escaped Nick's lips. He clamped his hand over his mouth, but he knew it was too late. That was almost more than the tall, strong, tough son of Tom and Victoria Barkley could bear. He just couldn't cope with the injustice of what seemed to be a hopeless situation.
Overwhelmed by his emotions, Nick didn't fight the ragged tears that slowly began to roll down his haggard face, toward his trembling chin. He wasn't ashamed. He was angry, terribly sorry, and feeling hopelessly helpless.
Defeated by his tiredness, Nick fell down on his knees. His mouth close to Heath's ear, he spoke with broken voice. "I'm so sorry, brother. I'll do anything to help you, to heal you. I'll do anything, I promise". He sunk his head on his brother pillow and stayed there for a long time, pouring out all the pain he had been holding in his heart for too many days, for too many nights.
The sun was slowly rising when Nick woke up, the first rays of the new day penetrating through the window, faintly enlightening the room.
Feeling all the weight of too many sleepless nights, of too many somber thoughts, heavy on his shoulders, Nick made his way out of Heath's room, down the stairs and into the kitchen.
As soon as he entered the room, the aroma of fresh made coffee reached his nostrils. He wasn't surprised to find his mother awake. Under her scrutiny, Nick felt uneasy: he couldn't hide his red-rimmed eyes, and the dark shadows underneath.
"I just made it", she said warmly, handing a smoking cup to him.
Nick accepted it gratefully. "Thank you, Mother, that's just what I need".
"How is Heath?"
"He's sleeping, now".
For a few moments, they both sipped their coffee in silence.
"Nick, please tell me what happened".
"He had a nightmare, is all", Nick said.
"Nick, I know this has been going on since he came to us, but now it has worsened after your trip to Strawberry. He… he is my son, Nick, and I love him. He is my son, and I barely know him. I don't know anything about his past. Please, help me, Nick". Victoria's voice broke at the pronunciation of the word "son".
The vehemence in his mother's speech, the cry in her normally more than controlled tone of voice, caught Nick unguarded and moved him deeply. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.
Nick put down his cup. "Those… those people, his aunt and uncle… They…" Nick shook his head as for denying his own words. "Hell, Mother, he was just a child!",
"What did they do to him? Tell me, Nick, I need to know", Victoria urged. She didn't even notice her son's swearing.
Nick began to pace, his helpfulness rapidly turning into anger. "They always treated him and his mother like the dirt under their feet. Heath grew up thinking he wasn't worth living, Mother, for that's what they always told him. His uncle… he'd beat him, humiliate him, once he even threw him into the river…"
Victoria sucked air into her lungs, her hand flaying to her throat. She'd never dare to imagine. But, at that point, Nick couldn't stop. He realized how much he had needed to share his pain, to share is fears and doubts.
"All his life, Mother, all his life people like Barrett tormented him because of his parentage. Do you understand what this means? Do you, Mother? It's Father's fault!" Nick diverted his eyes, the hurt for his remark so clear to see in his mother's face.
Victoria wanted to cry, but her eyes were dry. The hurt was deep, a knife stabbing her heart, but she suddenly realized what she was feeling was not sadness or pity for what Heath had gone through. It was disgust. Disgust for all those who had caused so much pain to her son, Heath. The son her husband had given to her, his precious gift.
But Nick hadn't said all he had to say, yet. Victoria was still mulling over her husband, when the word her son spoke reached her ears.
"Carterson".
"Carter…?" Victoria's voice cracked.