Chapter 6

In only a minute, the little group was back into the hotel, and Little Heath eased his father onto the broken sofa, giving him his bandana. Heath sat down and relaxed, his knee beginning to feel better already. He smiled a little. "Just how did you learn to do that?"

Little Heath said, "Uncle Nick taught me. We were out chasing strays and when he got off his horse he twisted his knee. He showed me how to put it back and I put it back for him."

"Wow," Heath said. Little Heath's story told him he'd have to thank his older brother.

Little Heath saw his father looking out the door toward the fire. "I thought I'd cook us some dinner and then put the fire out," Little Heath said. "We don't want it going all night, just in case the wind picks up."

"You're right," Heath said. "One stray ember and this whole town would go up in smoke."

"Who'd miss it?" Nicky asked, sarcastically.

"Probably nobody, but we'd be in it at the time," Heath reminded him.

Little Heath said to Nicky, "Go get the canteens from the horses, and come straight back in here."

Nicky nodded and limped out the door. He was back in less than a minute, and Little Heath motioned him to put the canteens on the desk.

Little Heath said, "I'm going to go make sure the horses are okay for the night. And I'll get some food and cook us some dinner."

"Can I help?" Nicky asked.

"No, you better stay with me - you're gimpy too," Heath said. "And I might need your help – like right now you can fetch me one of those canteens."

Nicky dutifully went to the counter where he had put all the canteens and fetched one for his father. While he was gone, Heath gave a smile and a wink to his older son – understanding passed between them. Nicky needed to feel like he was needed.

Little Heath said, "I'll be back in a few minutes," and went out the door.

Heath watched him go and for the first time, felt like he was watching a man, not a boy. That important time in a boy's life – that day when responsibility was dumped in his lap and he lived up to it – had happened to Little Heath today. Maybe it was time that "Little" be dropped from his name.

Nicky bent and gave his father the canteen. Heath still had hold of the bandana Little Heath had given him. Heath gave it some water and pressed it to his head wound again. It came away without any new blood. "I think it stopped bleeding," Nicky said, looking straight at the wound.

"I think so too," Heath said. "We'll be all right. We'll just sleep in here tonight and head home in the morning."

"Good," Nicky said.

It wasn't long before they could see Little Heath moving around the fire in the street. Heath said, "Why don't you go see if you can help your brother – but don't wander off again, hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Nicky said and, his ankle loosening up, he walked outside.

Little Heath saw him coming. "Is Papa okay?" he asked.

"Yes," Nicky said. "He wanted me to see if I could help you."

Heath said, "Put some water in the coffee pot there and bring it back to me."

Nicky grabbed the pot, went back inside the hotel and poured some water out of one of the canteens into the pot. Then he ran back outside. Heath watched, smiling, noting how dark it was now and wondering if a lamp on the floor had enough oil to make a light. He got to his feet, checked the lamp and and poured some more oil from the bottle into it. Then he started looking around for other lamps and matches.

When Nicky came back in a few moments later, Heath had lit the lamp and left it on top of the desk for now.

"Heath says I should stay with you in case you need me," Nicky said.

Heath smiled and said, "Tell you what. Get those old cushions off that sofa over there and bring them by the stairs. The sofa won't hold all of us but the floor will, and those cushions will make it a little bit softer."

Nicky did as he was told, and Heath lowered himself to the floor. "What else can I do?" Nicky asked.

Heath came up with one of his lopsided grins. "Tell me a ghost story."

"Papa!" Nicky laughed.

"Make one up," Heath said. "Come on, you can do it. That's all we did when I was a boy growing up here. We made up our ghost stories – all the ones I've ever told you, I made up."

Nicky sat down crosslegged, facing his father. "Okay. Once there was a town called Strawberry….."

XXXXXXX

An hour later, they had drunk coffee and ate ham and potatoes. The dishes were cleaned and set out to dry. They moved the lamp to the bottom step and Heath had settled on the floor nearby, his back against the wall. Little Heath had put the fire in the street out by spreading the wood and stomping on it until there were no embers left. Heath was comfortable with a full stomach and very happy watching his sons take care of him – even if he really didn't need it.

They each visited the outhouse – and Nicky found his way back to the hotel without trouble this time. As soon as he was back, Heath smiled at him. "Now, why didn't you come straight back here the last time like I told you?"

"I got lost," Nicky said.

"How did you get lost? The outhouse is not ten feet away from the door."

Nicky hesitated.

Heath realized that maybe he was sounding more harsh than he intended to. "Just tell me, Nicky," he said, more calmly.

"When I left the outhouse, I thought I saw something – a dog, running down the alley. I went to find it and then I couldn't remember what building we were in."

"A dog?!" Little Heath blurted. "That was probably a coyote!"

"No, it wasn't!" Nicky said.

"It probably was," Heath said, and then he held his right arm out to his younger son. "Come here."

Nicky sat himself down on the floor and leaned into his father's right shoulder. Heath realized it had been a really trying day for all of them, but especially Nicky. He gave him a squeeze. "It's been a tough day, but a good one, don't you think? We all learned some lessons, but now Heath fixed us a good dinner and our bellies are full, and everything is all right."

"I did see a ghost dog," Nicky said quietly.

"There are no ghosts!" Little Heath said yet again.

"I'm sure Nicky thought he saw a ghost," Heath said to his older son, "even though it was probably just a coyote."

Little Heath made an exasperated face.

But Heath realized what was behind that look. Little Heath had been frightened today, too. He was just too old to admit it. It wasn't ghosts he had been afraid of, or shadows. It was not being able to find his father or his brother, of being left all alone in this God-forsake town, even if it wasn't for very long. But he had really risen to the occasion, finding his brother and his father, getting everyone safe and back together, and taking care of all of them. Heath opened his other arm. "Come on over here, Heath," he said. "That lamp is going to be out in a minute or two. We'll keep the ghosts or the shadows or whatever they were away from all of us if we stick together."

Little Heath looked hesitant for a moment, but then he too got down on the floor and crawled into his father's left shoulder. Heath squeezed both of his sons at the same time, and he smiled. In a few moments he could tell they were both asleep, and when he was secure that they were all right in his arms and the lamp was out, he fell asleep, too.