Chapter Forty

The sun had gone to sleep, leaving Nick, Heath and Jarrod to prepare to camp for the night. Fortunately, they'd realized the trail they'd been following led to a few shacks and lean-to that had been built over the years, and they'd pushed to get to the nearest one. The three brothers were more than grateful to find that Heath had been right when he said 'I'm sure McColl used this shack not a month ago, said he left a pile of wood alongside the building just in case. Before he left, he talked about working on the lean-to as well' had been the blonde-haired cowboy's exact words. They were also elated to see that Mccoll had indeed made sure the lean-to was attached to the back of the small building. In a matter of minutes, the three men had grabbed some kindling and logs before headed into the shack.

Heath quickly built a fire in the black iron, pot belly stove that stood in the middle of the shack. Nick and Jarrod wasted no time securing the three horses under the lean-to and then bringing the bedrolls that had been on the horses backs into the small building.

"I hope Jensen doesn't realize we're following him." Jarrod asked as he glanced around the room. The place still held a brown table, a couple of chairs and a bed frame that was as solid as a rock, probably the reason McColl had not hesitated spending time there.

"No reason to worry 'bout that one," Nick replied as he finished laying out his bedroll. Sitting on the back of his heels, Nick look towards his brothers and added, "The idiot wouldn't know he was being trailed until someone bit him in the back."

"How can you be so sure?" Heath, who had been amazed to realize just how good of tracking skills this new brother of his had, asked as he fought to keep the fire going; the flames were threatening to die out on him.

"He's not picking up his speed or hiding his trail." Nick answered as he made his way to the table; Jarrod had pulled out the coffee and coffee pot that were always kept on a dark brown shelf that hung on the west side of the room; the can itself sat in the far-left hand corner. He then turned his eyes towards the small window he was sitting next to. Four small boards separated the nine squares of glass; two were nailed horizontality and the other two vertically. As he did so, Nick was shocked to have a flashback from years back come back to him.

"When we going to get to the shack, father?" Five-year-old Nick who was riding horse, in between his father and Jarrod, grumbled. He was getting tired, cold and hungry, and it wasn't helping his disposition any.

Tom, who had listened to the same question being repeated for the past five minutes, counted silently to ten and then answered Nick yet again. "It's only a few minutes away, son. We'll be there soon."

'We'll be there soon' wasn't exactly what the five-year-old boy wanted to hear, and he started to complain only to have Jarrod speak up and tell Nick that he, Jarrod, had a job and needed his help. Naturally, Nick was more than eager to hear what his big brother needed. As he explained, Nick's eyes grew wide while Tom had to turn his head sideways and bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing. If Jarrod's tall tale kept his younger brother occupied, who was he to complain?

"How many snipe hunts did you wind up going on over the year?" Nick's eyes laughed as he looked at Jarrod, who had handed him a cup of coffee.

Now it was Jarrod's turn to be shocked. For a minute, confusion could be seen in his eyes and then, slowly, understanding replaced the confused look. A smile a mile wide spread across Jarrod's face as he sat down across the table, and Heath pulled a small crate-which had been left in the northeast corner of the room- over to the table and sat down. "What snipe hunt?" Heath asked, his eyes laughing at the thought of Nick trying to catch a non-existent creature.

A fleeting, wistful, looked raced passed through his eyes as Nick told Heath what little he had just remembered. He then turned his attention to Jarrod, whose eyes had the same look that Nick's had held. "It's a good thing you thought of a way to keep me occupied, think I would have driven Father crazy otherwise."

The light in Jarrod's eyes changed and started dancing as he gave Nick a warm smile, assuring him that their Father had more than understood Nick. "Mother says the two of you were two peas in a pod. Well, in a lot of ways." The three brothers then found themselves swapping stories of their childhood back and forth…while some were rather sobering, the majority of the tales had the three brothers in stitches as they roared with laughter. By the time the three men lay down for the night, each prayed that they'd be able to find, and deal with, Kyle as quickly as possible…as they wanted nothing more than to get back home.

~oOo~

When it came to Kyle, Nick had hit the nail on the head. The wanted man was still as clueless as ever. He sat on the few steps that led up to the shack he was using, his coat buttoned up tight and watching his breath rise in the air. He had built a fire and then laid down to sleep; only one problem, sleep had only lasted a couple of hours when he'd had a full-fledged nightmare. The dream had existed of himself, a wind that had been blowing fiercer than anything he'd ever felt and three birds flying side by side. That had not been so bad, but then he'd turned to see the three birds stopping and diving straight at him.

"Fool!" He told himself as he stood up and made his way back into the shack. "That old woman is wrong!" He then went back to bed, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep before going in search of John Summers-as he still called him. Tomorrow he would prove the old woman wrong; tomorrow he would bring his enemy down.