***Chapter Two***

Heath leaned against the porch rail and looked at the view he had come to love in the time he had lived in this house. Once again Nick had claimed first rights in the bath, and Heath felt far too dirty to take a seat inside, so, as was often the case, he waited on the porch, enjoying the evening breeze.

"Heath, may I join you?"

Heath turned to see Cousin Vanessa. "Of course, ma'am."

She gestured toward the porch rockers, and each settled comfortably into a chair.

Vanessa smiled, "I heard Nick as he came in. He's been claiming first rights to something or other ever since he was three."

"I don't mind." Heath returned the smile. "Not really." He appreciated the fact that he could end each workday with a hot bath far too much to complain about a short wait for it.

"Because you love your brother."

It was a statement, not a question, but Heath answered her anyway. "I love all of them." It was rarely stated but overwhelmingly true.

"Having a family to love is the best of things, but not always the easiest." Vanessa let her eyes focus on the view as she waited quietly for his reply.

"I'm not always easy to have around either."

Vanessa laughed softly. "Neither was your father. People avoid speaking ill of the dead, so I doubt you've heard about the difficult side of Tom Barkley."

"The sainted Tom Barkley had a difficult side?" Heath's tone was sarcastic and bitter.

"Tom was not a saint, Heath."

"I'm proof of that, now ain't I?" Heath sprang to his feet and walked to the far end of the long porch.

Vanessa rose and followed him. She stood next to him and listened to his breathing. When it slowed and became even once again, she spoke softly, "He was neither all saint nor all sinner. He was a man."

Heath kept his eyes on the horizon as he spoke, "Every time someone says what a wonderful man he was I want to … to… well, I just want them to shut up."

"If you want them to accept that he wasn't a saint, Heath, you have to accept that he wasn't a devil."

"It's easier to hate a devil."

"You want to hate him?"

Heath stiffened, "I wanted to love him when I was little, but he wasn't there to love. Then I realized what he had done to Mama, and I started to hate him. You can hate someone ya ain't met a hell of a lot easier that you can love them." Realizing he had cussed in front of a lady, Heath blushed. "Sorry, ma'am, about my language. Mama taught me better."

"With a bar of lye soap, I imagine."

Heath gave her a sheepish grin, "Yes, ma'am."

Vanessa reached out and gently patted his cheek, "You're forgiven, young man." Vanessa saw that some of the tension had left his body, and decided to continue, "He would have loved you, Heath." Vanessa watched the pain fill his eyes.

"Are you so sure of that?"

"Absolutely sure. Someday you'll be sure too. Not soon but some day." The sound of someone opening the door and coming out onto the porch prevented Heath saying anything in reply.

Jarrod walked over. "Nick has finished with the bath, Heath, and Silas says dinner will be ready within the hour."

Heath turned to Vanessa and politely excused himself. After he entered the house, Jarrod turned to Vanessa and said, "I see you've won over my newest brother."

Vanessa smiled. "Won over may be too strong a statement, but he isn't running away from me anymore."

"There's been many times this past year when we feared he'd run away from us all for good," Jarrod stated with a sigh.

"Feared?"

"Well, not at first, perhaps, but, yes, feared for quite some time now." Jarrod looked directly into Vanessa's eyes. "He's my brother as much as Nick or Eugene. We all feel the same." Jarrod gave a soft laugh. "In some ways, I think Heath and Nick are closer than Nick and I have ever been."

"They love the ranch the same way, the way your father loved it."

"Yes, they share that. For the rest of us, the ranch is our home, but for Father, Nick, and now Heath, it's something more, almost like a living thing to be loved and cherished. An old pain flickered in Jarrod's eyes.

Vanessa placed her hand gently on his arm. "Your father might not have understood you as well as he understood Nick, but he loved you just the same, Jarrod, and he would be proud of the man you are. He was always proud of you," she said softly.

Jarrod smiled at her, drew her arm through his, and escorted her into the house.