Chapter Eight. What Brothers Do.

"Thanks for saving me."

Nick shrugged. "I just told the truth." He leaned towards Heath and lowered his voice. "The doc said I can't have any laudanum today. But why don't you sneak downstairs and bring up the whiskey bottle? A drink or two would sure make me feel a lot better."

"Nick!"

"What?" He turned his puppy dog eyes on his brother. "I hurt. I need something to take the edge off."

Heath shook his head. "No way. No way in hell am I gonna do that."

Silas walked in with two bundles of ice wrapped in towels. He glanced at Heath, letting him know he'd overhead his last words.

"I'm sorry, Silas," Heath said. "Forgive my language."

Silas shrugged. "I don't mind none." He picked up the trays from earlier and walked out.

Nick nodded at the door. "Shut that thing."

Heath shut the door.

"Now, sit down here." Nick padded the bed beside him.

Heath eyed Nick uncertainly, but he did as he asked, his attention fully on Nick, his body stiff, ready to jump.

"Now, boy, let me tell you something. I know you never been a brother before, and I guess it's my job to teach you how to be a brother. You see, the number one thing brothers do is look out for each other. Have their brother's back. And you did a mighty fine job doing that last night, a mighty fine job, and I appreciate it."

Heath didn't relax. He still watched Nick carefully.

"The second thing brothers do is help each other get into trouble. Now, that's important. Every bit as important as the number one thing." Nick put his hand on Heath's shoulder, making Heath flinch. "And you want to be a good brother, right?"

"Mother would kill me."

Nick turned on his dimples. "Now, who just got you out of trouble with Mother? Hmmm? Who just took full blame for everything that went down last night?"

Heath debated. It was true that Nick had taken full responsibility. And it was true that he did want to be a good brother. But he sure didn't want to face Victoria's wrath again so soon. Even more, he worried. "Nick," he said softly. "I don't want Mother to kick me out of here."

"Out of my room?"

"No. Out of the house."

Nick guffawed. "That won't happen. The family vote was taken. You're one of us now whether you like it or not. You can't be tossed out."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. Besides, Mother loves you. A lot. She treats you the same as she does the rest of us."

Heath nodded. "Does this family vote thing happen often?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "More often than it should. Anytime I wanna do something new or different with the ranch, it has to go to a family vote—even though I'm the ranch boss. Mother and Jarrod don't like to mess with the way things are now, so they always vote it down. Always. Audra thinks Mother and Jarrod are smarter than me, so she votes with them. Now, if Eugene is here, he spends the entire time 'thinking.' Sometimes he will actually vote for me, but most of the time, he can't make up his mind—which doesn't matter anyway, because it's already three against one."

"That don't sound right."

Nick shrugged. "It's the way it is. A couple of months ago, I figured out that if we dammed the creek at the north fork and dug a canal to reroute it, we'd have water available where we need it most. It would cost us a couple of week's labor to get it done, but then we'd save labor all the time from moving the herds and transporting water."

"Sounds like a good idea to me."

Nick scowled. "They didn't even consider it. They just voted it down."

"You know," Heath said. "I've been calling you a rebel, but maybe you ain't rebellious enough. If that was me, I'd just go ahead and do it, and then tell 'em about it later—or not at all. Let 'em figure it out."

Nick snorted. "That might work in this case. Many times, I'll need money up front to do something, and they hold the purse strings." He patted Heath's arm. "Now, quit changing the subject. Go get that whiskey, boy."

"But, Nick—"

"What do you say, boy? I mean, I could ask Jarrod to do it, and I know he would, but I think you and me need to bond a bit more, don't you?" He gave Heath's shoulder a squeeze.

Heath sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. "If I get caught—"

"You won't get caught. Mother went to bed. Silas never tells on us. Never."

"And Jarrod?"

Nick shrugged. "He's probably still in his room plotting his revenge."

"Nick, I just don't think—"

"Be a good brother, Heath." Nick rubbed Heath's shoulder. "We don't have many good memories to share."

Heath shook his head. "And everyone says that Jarrod is the silver-tongued one in the family."

Nick grinned. "But Pappy can be a pain in the ass, too, you know."

"Why do you call him 'Pappy'?"

"Because when Father was gone for a long time—like during the time you evidently came into being—he took on the father role. And even more so after Father was killed. Well, more for Audra and Eugene than for me, but he still likes to pretend he's the male boss of the house."

"Pretend?" Heath asked with a smile. From what he had observed, everyone, including Nick, towed the line when Jarrod spoke.

"We let him think we listen to him." Nick shrugged. "And when we call him 'Pappy,' he thinks we're accepting his authority. Of course, he doesn't realize we're just making fun of him." Nick flashed his dimples again. "Now, quit changing the subject and go get us some pain killer so we can sleep tonight."

Heath sighed.

"It's what brothers do."

"Against my better judgment," Heath mumbled. He took off his boots, then opened the door and looked up and down the hall. No one was around, and the house was quiet—and dark, except for a few wall sconces. As quickly and quietly as he could, he walked to the stairs and then down them. The library was dark except for a lamp lit low. Heath went to the refreshment cart. There was no way he was going to take a full bottle upstairs. But he found a fifth of whiskey that was just under a third full. He grabbed it and two glasses.

"Where are you going with that?" Jarrod asked.

Heath almost dropped it all, but he caught his balance. He looked up, his heart pounding.

Jarrod stood in the doorway.

"I, uh, well . . . ."

Jarrod smiled. "Nick talked you into it, huh?"

Heath nodded.

"And he calls me the silver-tongued devil."

Heath set down the glasses and put the whiskey back on the shelf.

"That's a good idea. That puny bottle won't last fifteen minutes. Grab the scotch back there instead. I'll bring the glasses."

Heath stared at him. Would he ever figure out this family? But he did as Jarrod requested, and, together, they sneaked back up the stairs and went to Nick's room.

Jarrod closed the door firmly behind him. "So why wasn't I invited to the party?"

Nick grinned. "I thought you were still mad at me, Pappy."

"I probably should be, but seeing your arm the way it was and how bad you were hurting, well, I guess being angry didn't matter anymore."

"I'm sorry I gave you so much grief last night. Mother give you the what for?"

Jarrod shrugged. "Not really. She started in on me, but I was tired and nursing a headache, so I told her I didn't want to hear it. Well, not in those exact words, of course."

Nick looked at Heath. "Don't you try that, boy. Only Jarrod gets by with talking back to Mother."

"Noted," Heath said. He also noted that Jarrod didn't dispute his exemption from Mother's retribution. He poured two fingers in each glass.

Nick looked at Jarrod. "You're gonna have to teach that boy what constitutes a drink."

Jarrod smiled. "Nick, I think you better take what you can get. You have to face Dr. Merar tomorrow."

Nick grimaced. "Yeah. He wasn't too happy with me today."

"Nobody was," Jarrod said.

Nick rolled his eyes. "Anybody know why my head hurts?" He felt behind his head. "I got a couple of knots."

Heath nodded at Jarrod.

"Uh, yeah," Jarrod said. "I lost my temper with you and threw you against the cell bars a couple of times."

"You?" Nick had a look on his face that was halfway disbelief and halfway hurt that his brother would do such a thing. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you wouldn't shut up."

"Oh." Nick took a long drink, then looked at Jarrod. "I'm trying to teach Heath how to be a brother. That's one of the few things he's never done."

"What? Throw you against iron bars?"

Nick smiled. "No. Been a brother."

"Ohhh." With a wry grin, Jarrod turned to Heath. "You can pretty much say anything you want to your brother. You can call him the family reprobate, you can cuss him out, and you can put spiders in his drink when he isn't looking."

"Or snakes in his boots," Nick said pointedly with a scowl directed at Jarrod.

Jarrod downed half his drink. "But, if anyone else does any of those things to him, it's up to you to defend him. And defend him you must, in whatever manner you have to."

Nick nodded in agreement. "That pretty much sums it up." He pointed at his empty glass for a refill. "Evidently, you can also throw him head-first against iron bars when he can't defend himself."

Jarrod raised an eyebrow. "You deserved it."

Heath refilled Nick's drink, giving him three fingers this time. "Now, that's all you can have," he said, "So make it last."

"Oh, that's another brother rule," Nick said. "Little brothers can't tell big brothers what to do."

"Thank you, Nick," Jarrod said. "I'm glad you finally realize that."

"Hey!" Nick protested. "That only applies to him. Not to me."

"I think the rule is that the less mature brother must listen to the more mature brother," Heath said.

"And you think you're more mature than me?" Nick demanded.

"I have no doubt." Heath gave his half-smile. "Just think about who it was that was getting dragged down the street last night."

Nick raised his eyebrow. "You can also punch your brother whenever you want."

Heath met his glaze. "And you can punch him back with interest."

Nick showed off his dimples.

Jarrod grinned. "He learns fast."

"But you never, ever tell on him. Even if you threaten to," Nick said.

"Don't worry," Heath said. "I might threaten, but I'm too scared of that lady to tell."

Jarrod and Nick both chuckled. "Told you he learns fast," Jarrod said.

Heath finished his drink. He felt warm inside—and it wasn't just the scotch. He felt accepted—like he was part of the family now. Most of all, though, he finally felt like the one thing he'd always wanted to be. A brother.

Jarrod stood. "It's getting late, boys, and we all need to be sober and up early. Why don't we finish this party tomorrow night?"

Heath nodded. "Sounds good to me." He looked at Nick.

It was obvious Nick wanted to protest. He pointed at his empty glass. He pointed at the bottle. "It's not that late," he said.

Heath grinned. "Rebellious much, Nick?"

"You know where to stick it," Nick retorted.

Jarrod gathered up the bottle and the glasses. "I'll take these downstairs so you don't get caught with them."

"Thanks, Jarrod," Heath said.

"You're welcome." He smiled at his siblings. "Good night, little brothers."

"Good night, big brother," they replied in unison.

It was Sunday morning, but the Barkleys weren't planning to go to church. They hadn't gone since Heath had arrived—mainly to allow time for the town gossip to slow down.

Dr. Merar arrived at the Barkley mansion before eight. "Can't stay long," he said when Victoria asked him if he'd like breakfast. "Coffee is fine, though."

"I assume Nick is in bed?" he asked.

"He'd better be," Victoria answered.

The doctor climbed the stairs and traveled the hallway to Nick's room. He tapped on the door.

"Just a minute," Heath called. He covered Nick with a sheet, then pulled the door open. "Oh, sorry. I thought it was Mother. Big brother just wanted to lollygag around this morning and wasn't ready to put on any clothes yet."

"That's good. I don't want him doing anything before I get that arm cast." The doctor took the chair next to Nick's bed. "How's it feeling?"

"Better," Nick answered. "As long as I don't move it."

"You're not supposed to be moving it," the doctor said.

"I haven't."

The doctor took Nick's arm and gently felt around.

Nick sucked in a deep breath.

"That's the worst of it," Dr. Merar said. He took out his bucket of cloths. "Heath, can you get me a bowl with water?"

"Sure." Heath hurried to get the bowl for the doctor.

Victoria walked in with a stack of coffee cups, and Jarrod followed her with a pot of coffee. Jarrod poured coffee for everyone, and Victoria handed a cup to Dr. Merar. He took a cautious sip, then set it on a dresser.

Heath returned with the bowl of water.

The doctor washed Nick's arm with iodine, then covered it with cotton. He asked Victoria to hold the cotton in place while he placed a strip of cotton with plaster on it around his arm, then moistened it with a sponge dipped in water. He continued adding strips of cotton until a thick cast formed and hardened.

"I'm not doing this again," Dr. Merar said to Nick. "So, you'd better take care of it this time."

"Yes, sir."

"I want you to stay in the house today, but tomorrow you can go for a walk—not more than an hour. Then on Tuesday, you can go for two hours. And, if you behave yourself all week, you can sit a horse on Friday. But you are not to go into town."

"But—"

"I don't want to hear it, Nick. You broke my trust this week. I don't give second chances." The doctor looked around at the gathered family. "And all of you hear that, right?"

"Certainly, doctor," Victoria said. She raised her eyebrow at her three sons.

Jarrod nodded. Nick pressed his lips tightly together. Heath didn't respond.

"Good," the doctor said. He packed up his bag, drank the rest of his coffee, and left.

Jarrod wandered away.

Victoria planted her eyes on Nick. "I trust you will listen to the doctor this time, Nicholas."

Nick mumbled something.

Heath glanced at him. It was obvious he wasn't happy about being told what to do. "Hey, Nick, why don't you get dressed, and we'll walk out to the corral and see how Charger's doing?" Heath suggested.

"The doctor said he wasn't to leave the house today," Victoria stated.

Heath swung to face her. "I think it would do Nick some good to get out of the house and get some fresh air."

"I agree," Nick said.

Victoria motioned for Heath to follow her out of the room. He did and pulled Nick's door closed behind them.

Victoria walked farther down the hall, then swung around to face Heath. "You heard the doctor! He said Nick wasn't to go out today."

"Mother, I think the doctor is being way overly cautious, knowing Nick will push the limits. If you tell Nick he can't do something, he's going to do it no matter what. If we allow him a bit more freedom, he will feel like he's in control and won't do nearly as much harm to himself as he would otherwise."

Victoria raised her eyebrows, then released a long sigh. "I suppose you're right. Nick is still a two-year-old in a lot of ways. I learned when he was just a little tot that if I allowed him to choose between two outfits, he'd pick one and dress happily. But if I picked something out for him, he'd pitch a fit and refuse to wear anything."

Heath nodded. "I suggest letting him go out for a walk on his own without being monitored by anyone."

Victoria's piercing glare went through Heath. "I still don't think him leaving the house is a good idea. But he most certainly is not going to leave this house without someone with him."

Heath closed his eyes for a moment to keep from rolling them. "I think he needs to feel like we trust him. And, besides, while he's gone, I want to talk to you and Jarrod. Would you be willing to sit down with me?"

"Well, yes, of course."

"Thank you."

By the time Heath returned to Nick's room, Nick was dressed and struggling to pull on his boots one handed. "Let me give you a hand with that."

"I want to get out of this house before Mother locks me in."

"Rebellious much?" Heath asked.

Nick tightened his left fist and shook it at Heath.

Heath smiled. "Interest, Nick."

"Yeah, I know," Nick groused. He sat back so Heath could put his boots on him. "So, did you calm Mother down?"

"Yes."

"You'll have to teach me how to do that."

Heath grinned. "Maybe later. For now, it's my secret."

"Boy, you are vexing me."

Heath got the second boot on Nick. "Do you mind if I don't go with you?"

Nick stared at him. "No. But I thought you wanted to see Charger."

"I do, but I can go out later and see him."

"Mother probably won't let me go unless you're there to babysit me."

"Nope. I told her you were a big boy and didn't need a babysitter."

Nick rolled her eyes. "I'm sure she listened."

"Yeah, she did," Heath said with his famous half-smile.

Nick cocked his head. "Damn, boy, you must have the Jarrod touch."

Heath shrugged. "I guess we'll see."

The two walked down the stairs together.

Victoria started to warn Nick not to overdo it, but then decided Heath's approach was better. "Enjoy your walk," was all she said.

Nick put on his hat. "I'll be back in time for lunch," he called.