Chapter 23

Strawberry was more of a ghost town now then it had been a year ago as Heath rode in, nature slowly taking back what had once been hers. Looking around, he could see that more buildings had collapsed since he was here last, the old livery stable where he had worked as a child reduced to a pile of timbers along with a couple of others. Through the rubble of the once boom mining town, bushes, trees and shrubs grew where they pleased while old tumbleweeds rolled through the street wherever the wind carried them.

Sitting easy in the saddle, he took it all in as Charger trotted along beneath him. Passing by the hotel where his Uncle and Aunt had lived he could see that it too had been abandoned, boarded up and deserted. Where they had gone to after what had transpired when Victoria had come to Strawberry seeking answers, he had no idea and good riddance to them. If he ever saw them again, it would be much too soon. He sure didn't wish to cross paths with them again. They belonged in a chapter of his life that was closed now, permanently.

The street was deserted and quiet but that didn't surprise him. While there had been around thirty or so souls still left scattered around a year ago he doubted there'd still be that number here now. There was nothing left here for them. No stage coach passed through, no freight wagons or deliveries came to bring supplies. The nearest town where the handful of remaining residents could purchase their necessities was at Willow Creek, a sixteen mile round trip. Before long, when the last of them had either moved away or passed on, Strawberry would be forgotten.

Riding through town, Heath turned his stallion towards Hannah's house. As he rode up, Hannah was out doing her laundry in the front yard, singing a little tune to herself as he dismounted. Tying his horse to the nearby hitching post which was almost eaten out with borers, he made his way through the opened gate over to her. "Evenin' Aunt Hannah."

Hearing a voice behind her, Hannah turned, a huge smile spreading across her face when she recognized who it was. "Heath! Oh Heath! It's so good to see you."

He smiled back as he returned her warm embrace. "How have you been Aunt Hannah?"

"Just fine. Just fine. Oh, look at you." She smiled, patting his cheek. "You look well. My boy's all growed up."

Heath chuckled softly. "Been grown up for a while now, I reckon."

"How long you be stayin'?"

"Afraid I can't stay long, I'm only passing through."

"Well come in, come in. I just took a pie outta the oven and I know how much you love my rhubarb pie." She invited, the two of them heading inside the house. "You been keepin' well? The Barkley's been treatin' you well now?" She asked as they went into the kitchen, Heath taking a seat at the table as she went to serve him up a piece of pie.

"They have."

"That's good. That's good. What be bringin' you back here? You can't have come all this way just to see me."

"I was in the area, thought I'd stop by and see how you're getting on." He replied as the Negro woman set down a plate with a large piece of her rhubarb pie in front of him. "Saw the hotel boarded up on my way by."

"Matt and Martha, they left shortly after you and Mizzez Barkley came to town." She told him, sitting down across from him. "Ain't know where they went. Don't care to know none neither."

He nodded, cutting the pie with the side of his fork. "Figured as such." Taking a bite, he smiled as the taste brought back pleasant memories of his childhood. "You still make the best rhubarb pie I've ever eaten."

Hannah grinned widely. "And my Heath still knows how to sweet talk a gal."

"I try my best." He replied with a chuckle. After eating a couple more bites, he placed his fork back down on his plate.

"Somethin' the matter?" She questioned, her grin fading.

"Aunt Hannah, what happened to my sister?" He asked, looking up at her. "What really happened to Matilda?"

At that question, Hannah didn't quite know how to answer him. "She's dead, Heath. She's dead."

"Can you explain how I got this then?" He drew the locket from his pocket, handing it across the table to her. "Do you recognize it?"

Her hand trembling, she took the locket and laid it in her palm, her eyes misting with tears. "It's your Ma's locket. Your step-father gave it to her just 'fore he died." Hannah paused for a moment, looking back at Heath. She hadn't seen this locket for years, having assumed that Leah had pawned it off in order to feed herself when things had gotten bad. "Where'd you get this?"

"I got it from a young woman who said it belonged to her mother." Heath told her, watching her expression closely. She had to know something, he knew she did. "That's why I need to know, Aunt Hannah. With Uncle Matt and Aunt Martha gone, you're the only one left who can tell me what really happened." He continued, softer. "I need to know what happened to my little sister. Please."

Hannah stood, beginning to pace around the small kitchen as she clutched the locket in her hands close to her chest. "S-she's dead Heath. Matilda is dead."

"There's more though, isn't there?" He questioned, having risen to go over to her. Gently he placed his hand on her shoulder and after a moment, she turned back to him with tears running down her cheeks. "Please. Tell me what you know."

Taking a deep breath, Hannah managed to composure herself. "I-I'm sorry. I-I told Leah she had to tell you but she musta never had the chance."

"Tell me what, Aunt Hannah?"

"Your Uncle and Aunt, they gave her away. They gave little Matilda away."

Heath frowned. "What do you mean? What did Uncle Matt and Aunt Martha have to do with Matilda?"

"Your-your Ma, she fell sick a few months after you'd gone to join the Army. Real sick. Me and Rachel, we tried our best to take care of your Ma and Matilda but Martha said she'd be better off with them till Leah was better. Your Ma didn't want her to go to them but she didn't have a choice. Rachel and I, we couldn't look after her. We hardly had enough to feed ourselves. Matilda went to live with your Uncle and Aunt."

Hearing that, knowing what he had gone through with his Uncle and Aunt, a sickening feeling arose in the pit of his stomach.

"They gave her away." A couple more tears slid down her cheeks as she looked up at her best friend's son, continuing with the story that had been kept from him all these years. "We didn't know till after they'd given her away. They said it was only for a short while but when your Ma got better and was askin' for her, they told us she was dead. Diphtheria they said. Matt brought her back, buried her here. We never had reason to doubt what they said." She paused for a moment to take the handkerchief Heath offered her and wiped away her tears. "Loosin' Matildy, it broke your Mama."

Heath hesitated for a moment before he spoke. "The young woman who I got the locket from, she said she'd been taken from her mother. She was Matilda's age when she was taken." He paused. "There's just... Too many coincidences for it not to be so. This girl... I think she might be Matilda."

"You-you think Matilda is alive?"

He nodded. "I do. The girl who gave it to me, I could never figure out why she seemed familiar but I do now. She looks like Mama, she's got my Mama's eyes."

"But she… It can't be... It just can't. They-they buried her." Hannah couldn't believe what Heath was telling her. That for all these years, while they had thought Matilda had died, she was alive? "We was there when she was buried."

"But did you see her? Did you know for certain that she had died?"

"N-no. Your Ma, she wanted them to open the coffin but Matt wouldn't let her."

"Then maybe she didn't die and they didn't bury her after all."

"Why would they lie?"

"I don't know." Heath replied honestly. He truly couldn't think of a good reason why his Uncle and Aunt would have lied to them and said that his sister had died but then again, he'd never been able to find an answer as to why they'd been treated the way they had by them growing up. "All I do know is there's a young woman who might be my sister, and out there is a grave with her name on it." He paused for a moment. "Do you really believe that Matilda died? Do you?"

"I-I… Now… Now I don't know. Oh Heath, if Matildy is alive…"

"Guess there's only one way to know for sure. Dig up the grave."

"Oh no, Heath." Hannah protested. "No. You can't."

"I have to know, Aunt Hannah. I have to know if my little sister is buried out there or not. If it's empty then that proves that this girl who had my Mama's locket is telling the truth."

"And if it's not? If you do find her in there?"

He let out a long sigh. "Then I'm left with more questions than answers, aren't I?"

Leaving Hannah after speaking with her for a little longer, Heath returned to town. At the General Store, long abandoned but still stocked with some goods, he procured what he needed then headed back towards the town cemetery. Dismounting Charger, he tied the stallion up once more and after taking what he'd brought with him from the saddle, he started into the cemetery. With every step that took him closer to his unpleasant task his feet lagged but he had to uncover the truth. He had to know if his little sister lay buried beneath the dirt or not.

Returning back to his mother and sister's graves, he stood in front of the cross marking the place where Matilda was supposed to lay. Placing the shovel and pick he'd brought with him on the ground he knelt down in front of her grave marker and placed his hand on the old cross. He lingered for a moment there, trying to put off what he was about to do for as long as he could.

What would he do if he did find the coffin held his little sister?

How then did Millie come into possession of his mother's necklace and why did she say her mother had given it to her?

Taking a deep breath he stood, picked up the shovel once again and set to work digging up the grave. The ground was hard from the lack of rain and it was hard, tough work under the descending sun. With the combination of the heat and physical labor, before long he had stripped off his vest and shirt, his upper body glistening with sweat. On he dug, tossing shovelful upon shovelful of the sandy, dry soil to the side as the hole grew deeper. With every shovel he threw aside his apprehension grew.

What would he uncover at the end of all this?

From afar, Hannah watched, her eyes filling with tears as Heath carried on with his sorry task. She had begged him not to but she knew nothing was going to change his mind. Growing up, Heath had always been so protective of his little sister and Matilda had worshiped the ground that he walked on. They had been inseparable until the night Heath had disappeared to join the army, Matilda having been distraught over his absence. Nothing any of them could say or do would console her and after she'd been given away by Matt and Martha during Leah's illness, they were to be forever separated by her death three months later.

But now, with what Heath had discovered, she could only hope and pray that for his sake, his little sister was indeed alive.

A prayer in her heart, she returned home to wait for Heath to come tell her what he found.

With the sun descending down towards the horizon, only a couple hours of light remaining, Heath doggedly continued on with his task. Sometime later, his shovel hit something hard and scraping the remaining dirt aside, he finally uncovered the lid of the coffin. Presented with the pine box in front of him he stopped, hesitating. There was no way of knowing for certain if Matilda was in that box or not unless he opened it but yet, fear held him back. Either way, was he ready for what he would find that had been buried beneath the dirt all these years?

Knowing he wouldn't receive any more answers until he opened the old casket, his heart was in his throat as he began to pry the lid open with the shovel. It came loose after some effort and after tossing the shovel aside, he reached into the grave to remove the lid. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath as he steeled himself then after a moment, he finally pulled the lid off to reveal what had been buried all these years.

There was nothing but rocks wrapped in cloth inside the coffin.

Relief flooded over him and he let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in.

Matilda hadn't been buried here.

His little sister was alive.

About to set the lid down again, he realized there was a piece of paper nestled in amongst the cloth-covered rocks. Frowning, he reached in and pulled it out. Unfolding it, he recognized his Uncle's handwriting.

Heath,

I don't expect this to be read but if you ever do find this, then I guess you've come here looking for the truth and if you've come as far as to dig this up, then the least I can do I guess, is to give you some answers to the questions that led you here.

Matilda is not dead and buried here, as you can see.

Firstly, an apology is owed to you and to my sister. There's no excuse for my actions and I won't waste pencil trying to justify them. What I did was wrong and I accept that. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused to you, your Mother and Matilda, though I know to you this apology will only be meaningless words on paper.

It was Martha's idea to give Matilda away when Leah fell ill. She didn't want the child around anymore then I did but there was no one left to take care of her. She made the arrangements and I went along with them. Matilda was given into the care of Hosea Williams and his wife, a couple running a ranch on the outskirts of Senora. At the time of me writing this, to the best of my knowledge, that is where she still is.

Once Leah recovered and was strong enough to want to know where Matilda was, it was Martha who came up with the lie that she had died to cover up the truth of what she had done. Rachael and Hannah, they knew that we had given Matilda away but there was nothing they could do. Martha told them that the girl had died of diphtheria and I went along with it, burying this empty coffin to stop anyone from asking any more questions.

You have to understand Heath, this wasn't my idea. Martha has always been jealous of the fact that Leah was able to bear children while she couldn't and to have you born out of wedlock, it made it all the more egregious to her. When Matilda came along, I didn't realize just how deep her jealousy went. She wanted to see your mother hurt and that was why she treated you all so horribly and I, like a coward, went along with her.

Martha wasn't always like that though, I remember a time when she was kind and gentle, carefree as a spring bird. That was the woman I fell in love with. Not the woman she has become now. Maybe I should have stood up to her and I guess, leaving this note here in a way, is my gutless way of doing so.

I'm sorry.

You all deserved better from me.

I won't ask forgiveness, I know I am not deserving of it.

I hope you and Matilda find your way back to each other.

Take care of your sister Heath like I should have looked after mine.

Matt

His hands were shaking as he finished reading the note and after a moment, he was able to compose himself. They had lied, all these years they had lied to them. Matt knew Matilda was alive and he hadn't told them the truth. Martha had given his sister away, taking from him and his mother precious time with her. Time they'd never get back.

Standing, he folded the note and slipped it into his pocket. With the sun going down, a slight chill had come to the air and he put his shirt and vest back on before he closed up the casket again, began filling it back in. It wouldn't do to leave the hole open even if no one was buried in the grave and so, he filled it in once more.

His task complete, he picked up the shovel and pick, returning to where Charger had been tied. The stallion was picking at the grass within his reach as he came back to the stallion, the bay nickering at him softly as he unwrapped the reins from around the hitching post. Mounting up he rode back into town, the sun starting to sink down below the horizon. He halted outside the general store, returning the items he had borrowed there before continuing on his way.

Hannah had been waiting anxiously at home, hurrying out the front door to meet Heath as he stopped in front of her house. "What'd you find?"

"The casket was empty, Aunt Hannah, save for rocks and this-" He replied, the woman coming to stand beside Charger as he drew the folded paper from his pocket. "Uncle Matt left this inside. It's a note. Aunt Martha couldn't have children, she was jealous of Mama for havin' me and Matilda. Telling Ma Matilda had died, it was her way of hurting her."

Hannah shook her head. "I always knew that woman was no good. No good. She always mean to you and your Ma."

"Now I guess I know why." The note went back into his pocket and he gathered up his reins. "I've got to be going, you keep well."

"May God go with you, Heath." She reached up to him and Heath took hold of her hand. "I'll be prayin' for you both."

Night had fallen, the sun having disappeared a couple hours earlier as time continued to slip by. Nick was seated in a chair beside Millie's bed, keeping watch over her as Jarrod prepared something downstairs in the kitchen for them all to eat. The poor thing was worn out and understandably so, given the severity and extent of her injuries. By the time they had finished caring for her, they'd come to realize just how hurt she actually was. Not only did she have the wounds from being whipped and her leg, she'd been severely beaten also. Unable to leave her in the rags they'd found her in, they'd had no other option but to help her into clean clothes and as they had done so, it became apparent that Cade had really laid it into her for her body was covered in bruises of various colors and sizes.

Millie stirred a little, moaning in her sleep and Nick began rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb again. She was clearly in pain from her injuries but there was little they could do to help ease her discomfort. There hadn't been much left in the doctors inventory to take from, the Sheriff had mentioned the town doctor had taken most of his supplies with him when there had been a mining accident a couple weeks earlier. He'd needed everything he had and Nick could understand that but it sure wasn't helping Millie now. The poor girl was suffering and there was nothing more they could do that they hadn't already done until they got her to a doctor.

Jarrod returned to the room after a time, bringing with him a tray with three bowls of beans he'd heated up from their provisions they'd brought along. Millie woke at the sound of his footsteps and he sat the tray down on the table nearby, handing Nick his bowl first before turning to Millie. "Think you can try eating a little?"

She nodded weakly, the aroma of the food reminding her how long she'd gone without for and she was hungry. "C-can try."

"Alright, up you come then." Carefully he helped her to sit up, Millie leaning against him as he sat down beside her. "You want a drink first?"

"Please…" Nick handed him over the glass from the tray, his brother returning to his eating as Jarrod held the glass for her to drink from. She drank slowly, just a couple of sips but it was better than nothing. "We'll let that settle for a moment, alright?"

Millie nodded a little again, her head on his shoulder.

"How are you feeling now?"

"I-I'm alright." She lied. She felt utterly dreadful. Between the gnawing pain of her back and the persistent bone aching throbbing of her leg, it was wearing her down. Not only that though, but her stomach had been slowly but steadily starting to hurt also. She looked over at Nick. She'd seen the concerned looks that had been exchanged between the two brothers but she didn't want to cause them any further worry. There was nothing more they could do for her anyway. "I'll be… I'll be fine, Jarrod."

He smiled a little at her attempt to reassure him. "Of course you will sweetheart. We'll get you home and everything will be alright."

"Yeah and I reckon for the next couple of weeks, you'll be gettin' right fussed over." Nick added between bites. "Havin' everyone waitin' on you hand and foot."

At that, Millie chuckled a little. "I... doubt it. You all... got more important things to be worryin' about... then me."

"Right now, the most important thing to all of us is you. The rest can wait." Jarrod told her gently. "Think you're up to eating now?"

"I-I can try."

"Alright then. Nick, would you lend a hand for a moment?"

Nick placed his half-empty bowl aside and picked up one of the others, moving his chair over closer so he could feed her. Scooping up a few of the beans on the spoon he went to feed her but the girl shook her head.

"I can... feed myself." Millie declared.

"And I think you're better off savin' your strength, lil one. Besides, the less you move those arms, with that back of yours the way it is, the better." Nick motioned at the spoon he was holding in front of her. "Don't go bein' as stubborn as a poddy calf. Come on."

With a defeated sigh, Millie opened her mouth and let him feed her, chewing slowly on the baked beans. Swallowing, she let him give her another spoonful and slowly but steadily, she began to eat.

"That's a girl." Nick encouraged as she managed to eat a little more. "How's that?"

Even though she was hungry, her stomach was protesting more with every mouthful she forced herself to swallow. Another bite went down and as Nick went to give her another spoonful, she shook her head. Her stomach just wasn't going to cooperate.

Recognizing the look on her face, Nick quickly placed the food aside and brought the nearby basin beneath her chin as she started to vomit again. The food she'd just eaten came back up and he shared a worried look with his brother. She needed to eat, she needed to drink after she'd gone without for much too long but she just couldn't manage to keep anything down.

"S-sorry." Millie apologized when she'd finally finished, the pain in her stomach easing just a little when she'd finished vomiting. "Must-must be your cookin', Jarrod."

He smiled a little at her halfhearted attempt to lighten the severity of the situation. "There's nothing wrong with my cooking. Nick's eaten it and he's lived to tell the tale."

She had a tiny chuckle at that, Nick placing the basin aside before picking up the glass of water. Taking a small sip to get rid of the taste in her mouth she swallowed then shook her head to indicate she'd had enough. "Thank you."

"We'll try again later, shall we?"

Millie nodded. "Want… Want to lie down again."

Gently Jarrod laid her back down, Nick leaving the room with the basin to go empty it. "How are you feeling, really?" He questioned gently, running his fingers through her hair Nick had spent a considerable amount of time untangling. "Be honest with me honey. How do you feel?"

"I'll... I'll be alright... Jarrod."

"Millie-"

"Jarrod, there's nothin' else... you can do." She murmured softly, doing her best not to winch as her stomach hurt again for a moment before easing off. "No sense... In makin' you worry."

"Think I'm already doing that, sweetheart." He replied as he kept stroking her hair back from her forehead gently. There was nothing he wished for more then to be able to take away her pain but they'd already done everything they could for her. There was nothing more that could be done. "I worry because I care about you."

The fainest hint of a smile touched her lips.

"So you just sit there and let us take care of you, alright?" Jarrod gently tucked a stubborn lock of her hair back behind her ear. "We'll have you home tomorrow."

"Home..." The thought of going home filled her with peace and contentment. She'd be home soon. Home, safe. That feeling was quickly vanquished upon another sharp pang in her stomach and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying out as she grimaced.

"What's wrong honey?" He questioned with concern.

She shook her head, breathing through it as it abated again.

"What's hurting you?"

"Stomach..." Millie finally admitted. "Gotta be... from that mush... you call food."

"Like I said, there's nothing wrong with my cooking."

"Only... that you're terrible... at it."

Seeing the little bit of spark in her eye as she teased him, Jarrod chuckled gently.

Silence fell.

"I-I'm sorry..." Millie weakly apologized after a few minuets had slipped by. "I'm sorry... for all the trouble... I've been."

"Oh honey... There's nothing for you to be sorry for. None of this is your fault."

"Don't... want to be... a burden on you."

"That's one thing you could never be. You aren't a burden, sweetheart." He continued stroking her hair.

"P-promise?"

"Promise." Jarrod reassured her with a smile. "Try to get some rest now, my girl. Alright? You need to save your strength. I'll be right here. You're safe with Nick and I. We'll keep watch and keep you safe."

Mustering just enough energy to reach up to him, Jarrod took her hand between both of his. "Thank you." She whispered with gratitude, her eyes misting with tears. "Thank you... for being here."

"There's no where else I'd be." He replied as he fought back tears of his own. Oh God... Millie was so weak, so fragile already. The grip she had on his hand was barely there and after a moment, he gently lay it back down on the bed. She had to be alright. Give her strength. Please. Give her the strength to get through this. We can't loose her. The tear trickling down her cheek he wiped away with his thumb. I can't loose her. "Sleep now, darling." His husky voice betrayed the fight he was going through to remain in control of his emotions. "I'm right here."

By the time Nick returned, Millie was fast asleep with Jarrod seated on the bed beside her. "Jarrod..." For someone usually so loud and boisterous, being able to keep his voice to a whisper was a rare event. "I'll keep watch if you want to stay with Millie."

Jarrod nodded, still rubbing circles on the back of the girl's hand with his thumb. "Thank you, Nick."

Nick placed his hand on his older brother's shoulder. "She'll be alright, Jarrod."

He swallowed. "I sure hope so Nick. I sure hope so..."

Accompanied only by his thoughts, Heath rode on through the night from Strawberry towards Alder, hoping and praying that while he'd been off finding answers as to why Millie had his mother's locket, Jarrod and Nick had been able to find the poor girl. He hoped and prayed they'd been able to find his sister.

It was hard to get his head around the fact that all this time he'd believed Matilda to be dead, she'd been alive and his Uncle and Aunt had kept the truth hidden from him and his mother all these years. The note from Matt as if it were burning a hole in his pocket but it was the only shred of evidence to attest to this turn of events. Millie was Matilda Thompson-Tyson, his sister, even if she didn't know it.

With what he had uncovered, it was just providential that his Uncle Matt and his wife and left town before he'd turned up in search of answers.

The moonlight illuminating his way, Heath made it to Alder sometime after ten and went straight to the Sheriff's office in the hope of finding some news on his brothers. The deputy there was able to tell him that his brothers had been by earlier in the day and directions to Cade Alton's ranch but nothing more than that and he continued on his way. His journey was almost over.

Charger trotted wearily beneath him as Heath guided him along the road towards the ranch, the stallion almost spent from the miles he'd been forced to cover that day. Heath too felt near worn out; between the seemingly endless amount of riding, having to dig up what he'd thought to be Matilda's grave all this time and the mental strain, he was near exhaustion himself. When he'd ridden out with his brothers earlier that morning, he'd never imagined that this was how his day would have gone. He'd never dreamed he'd end up finding out that Millie was his not-so-dead little sister.

But she was.

Millie was really Matilda.

Finally arriving at the house, Heath brought the stallion to a stop at the hitching post in front and after dismounting, he began to loosen the cinch. The door of the house opened and upon hearing the footsteps mixed with the jingle of spurs on the floorboards, he looked up as his brother came down the stairs to meet him. "You find Millie?"

"We found her."

Loosening the cinch off all the way, Heath could tell from his brother's tone he wasn't telling him the whole story. "How is she?"

"I'll put your horse up in the barn." Nick stated, holding his hand out for the reins and after a moment, he handed the stallion over to him. "She's not good Heath." He said slowly, finally meeting his brother's eyes. "Jarrod's sittin' with her. They're upstairs, first room to the right."

Nodding to thank him, they parted ways. Closing the door behind himself Heath looked around the house and after finding the stairs, made his way up. He stopped for a moment to take a deep breath to prepare himself then stepped into the room and stopped in the doorway. Jarrod looked up upon hearing him come in, his older brother seated in the chair beside the bed with his hand resting on top of the girl's hand as she slept and as his gaze landed on her, it felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Oh my god... Matilda…

"Heath-"

"Jarrod, what happened to her?" He whispered in horror, unable to take his eyes off his littler sister as he stepped into the room and stopped beside the bed. Bile rose in his throat, his stomach rolling over as he saw firsthand the abuse she'd been subjected to. His heart cried out for her. Matilda... Oh god. Lying on her side, the back of her dress unbuttoned, her wounds were visible for all to see. Wounds that he knew firsthand, only able to be caused by one of the worst punishments one human could inflict upon another. Wounds like he hadn't seen since that hellhole of a prison he'd suffered in for seven long months.

Wounds exactly like those of long ago that had formed the scars on his back that he'd carry for the rest of his life.

And his little sister...

Jarrod rose quietly so as to not disturb the young woman and stood beside Heath. "She was whipped three days ago." He replied softly. "Nick and I've done the best we can to look after her, we thought it best not to bandage them up but let them get some air after we cleaned them."

Heath swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "Good... It-it's the best thing... Any disturbin' of them... It'll be agony for her."

"We've done the best we can do for her Heath." He assured him again. "What did you find out in Strawberry?"

"She's…" Heath paused for a moment, struggling to keep it together as he turned to his older brother. "Millie is Matilda. My sister." Without waiting for Jarrod to reply he turned his attention back towards her, his tone laden with emotion. "She's my sister."