Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program Big Valley are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended by the author.

This story contains graphic material unsuitable for minors!

 

WHEN DEMONS RETURN – by Buckaroo

Part 1

Jarrod rode up to the house and watched as his wife Ruth crouched down and looked under the house, then walk around all the bushes and trees.  He admired her patient search, but knew it was pointless.  Dismounting and tying his horse at the rail, he snuck up behind her and grabbed her in a big hug.

Ruth screamed, totally unaware of his presence. She pulled from his embrace and glared at him, “You had better find him or I will.”

He tried not to smile as he asked “What did he do this time?”

“He is playing hide and seek again.  I haven’t seen him in a couple of hours. He refuses to show himself,” huffed Ruth. Jarrod kissed her and walked to the pump, where he took several long drinks before satisfying his thirst.

Standing at his side, Ruth looked at him in feigned disgust as she sighed, “You forgot again, didn’t you?”

Jarrod shrugged, “I was in a hurry this morning.”  He dropped a kiss on her cheek, as he looked around the yard, “Where have you looked?”

“Don’t change the subject, Jarrod Barkley.  Your lawyer tricks do not work with me.”

Duly admonished, he spoke softly, “I’m sorry. I was fine. You make more out of it than you need to.”

Frustrated, Ruth planted her hands on her hips indignantly, “I know you think you can go all day without water, but you need it just like all the rest of us.”

“I said I was fine,” snapped Jarrod.  Ruth, hurt by his tone, raised her hands in frustration and left him alone. Jarrod dropped his head, angry he’d let his own feelings on the subject get the better of him.  Six years and he still held onto his irrational fear of water.  More than anyone else, Ruth understood and tolerated his failings.  He would apologize later, right now he had to finish Ruth’s search. 

Not up to playing the game, he called out loudly, “J.T., if your backside doesn’t want to see the light of day, I suggest you show your face!”

The subject in question poked his head out of the tree not ten yards from the house, and Jarrod bit back a smile as the five-year-old hollered, “Papa!” 

The dark-haired boy scrambled down the tree and ran to his father, only skidding to a stop when he noticed his father’s dark scowl.  He didn’t need to be told he was in trouble, and he stood before Jarrod with his hands behind his back and his head lowered, “Sorry, Papa.”

Jarrod took the boys chin in his hand and made him look at him, “I’m not the one you need to apologize to. Your mother was worried when she couldn’t find you.”

Big blue eyes shined back at him and told him innocently, “I was just playin’ hide-n-seek, Papa.  Uncle Heath taught me how to stay real quiet. I was practicin’.”

“Be that as it may. You need to answer when your mother calls you.”

J.T. nodded his head and answered respectfully, “Yes, sir.” Jarrod rubbed his son’s head and pointed to his horse, “How ‘bout you take care of my horse for me, while I go talk to your Mama.”

“You gonna ‘pologize too, Papa?”

Jarrod shouldn’t have been surprised by J.T.’s comment. The child missed nothing.  He was a lot like his Uncle Heath in that regard, probably why they got along so well together.  Smiling, Jarrod gave J.T. a playful swat towards his horse, “Go, before I change my mind.”

Like Heath, the boy had an affinity for horses and loved just being around them.  Mindful that he was only five, Jarrod often let him put up his horse, knowing Jingo was tolerant of most anything.

Jarrod shook his head at the boy’s exuberance and walked in the house. He found Ruth in the kitchen getting dinner ready and he stood in the doorway watching her work, waiting to be noticed this time.  Ruth continued her work, but asked curiously, “Where was he?”

Taking her question as a sign she was at least speaking to him, he moved closer and leaned against the counter she was working at.  Jarrod couldn’t help but grin as he told her, “He was in the tree by the porch.”

“Oh, that little imp.  The next time I see Heath...”

Jarrod leaned in and kissed her. “You’ll have forgotten all about it. Besides, you would never tell Heath he can’t play with J.T.” He laughed, “You have him and Nick wrapped around your little finger. They know it and you know it.”

Ruth slapped him playfully in the chest, “You’re just as bad as they are.”

Raising an eyebrow, he teased, “Well, I admit that you do hold a certain charm that I find irresistible.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her firmly to his chest and he asked as he kissed her again, “Where are my other mischief makers?”

“Emily is playing in her room and Jake is napping.”

“So I have you all to myself for a few minutes, is that what you are telling me?” He kissed and nibbled her neck as she tried to answer.

Smiling, Ruth pushed him away, “That method will not work with me either, I am wise to your ways.”

Jarrod pulled her back into his arms and told her sincerely, “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I...” his voice trailed off and Ruth could see how difficult it was for him.  It pained her to know that he still suffered six years after her brother’s torture.  She’d managed to put aside her own guilt over the horrifying ordeal, but there were times when the memories still came back to haunt him.  They were few and fair between, but no less disturbing than they were six years ago. 

Ruth shook her head sympathetically, “You don’t need to explain.” Her eyes found his as she added, “Try to remember to take water when you leave the house. Please.”  Jarrod nodded, thankful for her understanding. He knew all was forgiven when she cupped his neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss. 

Caught in the moment, neither one of them heard the footsteps on the kitchen stairs.  Both of them startled and stepped back breathless at the little voice at their side, “Papa, how come you don’t kiss me like that?”

Ruth covered her mouth, snickering as she turned away.  Jarrod reddened as he knelt down to pick up his three-year-old daughter.  With curly brown hair and brown eyes, she was the spitting image of her mother, and probably why Jarrod doted on her so, “Hello, baby girl.”  He planted tickling kisses all over her face until she was giggling, “How was that?”

Emily cupped his cheeks in her tiny hands and looked him right in the eye, “You scratchy, Papa.”

Jarrod rubbed his face, and felt the five o’clock shadow Emily was referring too.  He touched his forehead to hers and teased, “No more kisses for you then.”

Kissing his nose, Emily laughed, “You silly, Papa.” She wiggled in his arms and Jarrod dutifully put her down.  She was a very affectionate child but was quickly gaining her independence and didn’t like to be held for too long.  That and she had a lot of her Uncle Nick’s restlessness in her, always on the go. 

She scrambled up the stairs and Ruth told her husband, “Why don’t you go get cleaned up?” Jarrod started up the stairs after Emily and Ruth called up to him, “Please bring Jake down when you come.” Jarrod mumbled he would and Ruth laughed.  Jake was only six-months-old and Jarrod always found time when he first got home to see his newest.  He was such a tiny thing when he was born that they’d almost lost him and it wasn’t unusual for Ruth to find Jarrod leaning over the crib just watching his youngest sleep.  They’d gotten him over the hump and he was doing fine, but the fear of losing him still worried both of them.  Jarrod was a caring and devoted father, and he spent as much time as possible making sure they knew their father loved them all.  It was hard for Ruth to imagine anything more perfect than her life with Jarrod.  They still loved with the same passion they had in their early relationship, and they found time everyday to spend time as a couple.  Whether it was reading to each other, or taking walks after the children were asleep.  Unfortunate circumstances had brought them together six years ago, and despite the hardships of those difficult days, they remembered how much they cherished their time alone.  It was a habit they couldn’t break and their marriage was stronger because of it.

*

The whole family was gathered for dinner, making it somewhat crowded in the Barkley dining room.  Victoria marveled at the increase in family in just six short years. In addition to Jarrod’s family, Nick and his wife Tess, had two little ones. Zack was two and Katy only a month older than Jake. Only married three years they were wasting no time catching up with Jarrod’s three.  Heath and Dory, married only a year, boasted the newest Barkley, Elizabeth. Audra had moved to New York two years ago with her husband, so the table was missing her presence.  Dinner was a lively affair, and it was nice to see them all enjoying the company of family.   Sundays were the only day they all got together, since Heath and Jarrod had places of their own. Nick and Tess had opted to stay at the main house making it easier for Nick to run the ranch.  Heath still helped out, but overseeing a horse operation on his own spread took up some of his time.  None of them lived more than a couple miles from the main house, so they’d remained as close as ever.   The sister’s-in-law all got along marvelously and often got together several times a week to help each other out. 

After dinner, while the women looked after the children, putting them down for afternoon naps, the men played pool.  Jarrod sat against the wall staring absently at the pool table as his brother’s played, lost in thought.

Nick nudged him to get his attention, “You playin’?”

“Uh?”

Rolling his eyes, Nick asked again, “Heath lost, you’re up. You playin’ or not?  I could use some of your money.”

Jarrod nodded and took the cue from Heath.  He teased Nick as he racked the balls, “Sure Nick, but it’ll be your money that I take.” 

“I don’t think so, big brother,” sneered Nick.  They bantered back and forth, but Jarrod seemed preoccupied and Nick easily took the game.  Jarrod handed the cue back to Heath with a bow of his head, and got himself a drink. 

Nick watched him curiously, and tried to draw him back into the fold, “You still gonna help us with the brandin’ tomorrow Jarrod?”

Jarrod snapped at him, “I said I would!” With a heavy sigh, he shook his head at his behavior, and Heath who was closest put a hand on his back.  A sign of support under normal circumstances didn’t have the affect Heath was aiming for.  Jarrod flinched under his touch and shrugged away from him.  Nick frowned at Heath as he watched Jarrod’s reaction.  When Jarrod finally looked at them they were both taken aback by the dark and distant look in their older brothers eyes.  It was a look they both recognized but hoped to never see again. 

They kept their distance, knowing that to get too close was dangerous.  Heath spoke to him calmly, “You want to talk about it Jarrod?”

Shaking his head, Jarrod didn’t say anything, not surprising since he seldom talked when he drifted back to the past. Nick stood back and asked, “You want me to get Ruth?”

“NO!” Jarrod walked to the patio doors needing more air.  Nick and Heath were expecting him to leave but he just leaned against the door jam and stared outside.  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper and held it out for his brothers to read.  Heath took it, and as he read Nick could see him pale.  Taking it from his brother, Nick read the words....

Keller released after time served.

Wadding the paper in a tight fist, Nick swore,  Damn it!”

Part 2

“How long’s he been out, Jarrod?” 

Jarrod shrugged his shoulders and went to the desk to sit, dropping heavily into the chair.  With elbows on the desk, he dropped his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair.  Heath leaned over the front of the desk and asked with concern, “You okay, big brother?”

“I thought it was over,” whispered Jarrod, his voice barely audible.

Nick paced the room anxiously, his voice getting louder as he spoke, “Well, we gotta do something. Let’s find out what he’s up to. I’m not gonna sit around and wait for him this time.”

Heath gave Nick a pointed glare and turned back to Jarrod, “Maybe you outta stay here at the ranch for a while Jarrod,  be safer than out there by yourself.”

“Heath’s right, we can put some guards around the ranch, keep an eye on things.”

Shaking his head, Jarrod got out paper and pen as he told them adamantly, “I don’t want to worry Ruth.” 

Nick looked incredulous and huffed, “You think you can hide this from her?”  Jarrod was trying to write, his hand was shaking at the effort, and it didn’t go unnoticed by his brothers. His face broke out in a sweat and his breathing increased, as he tried to put pen to paper.  He couldn’t make himself do it and he felt his control start to crumble.  Like so many times in his past, he was helpless to stop it.  The dark haunted look returned and he swept the desk clean, before rising abruptly.  His eyes darted to the patio doors, but Heath calmly stepped in front of them, nonchalantly blocking his escape.  Nick saw Heath’s subtle movement and timed his pacing so he was in line with the study doors.  Jarrod wasn’t aware of the consciousness of their movements, he only knew he had no escape.  Neither Nick nor Heath were sure of their actions and kept a careful eye on Jarrod as he strode towards the fireplace.  He ignored them, instead grasping the mantle in a white-knuckled grip.  Heath caught Nick’s eye and silently gestured towards the door with his head.  Nick nodded and left the room in search of Ruth.

All the women were gathered in the parlor, working on individual projects as they chatted amiably.  Nick stopped at the edge of the group and waited for them to look up. Catching Ruth’s eye he asked, “You got a minute, Ruth?”

Ruth nodded and Nick distanced himself from the ladies, while waiting for Ruth to join him. They watched as Nick spoke in hushed tones, then showed her the paper.  Ruth paled and reached out to Nick for support. He grasped her arm to steady her and they whispered a bit more before Ruth hurried towards the study. Nick stayed with the women, knowing Heath would be joining them shortly.  This was up to Ruth now and they would only be in the way.  Victoria rose and went to Nick, troubled by his actions. “Nick?”

He shook his head sadly, “It’s Jarrod, Mother.”

“What is it, Nick? What’s wrong?”

Sighing heavily, he hated being the bearer of bad news, “Keller got out.”

Victoria gasped and covered her mouth in horror.  Seeing her reaction as he entered the room, Heath hurried to pour his mother a drink. Nick led his mother back to her seat and Heath knelt in front of her, handing her the drink. “Drink that. It’ll help.”

Distraught, Victoria sipped the sherry, then composed herself and asked her sons. “How is he?”   Her eyes darted from Nick to Heath and neither said a word. Her eyes locked on Nick’s hazel ones. Nick closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. 

Dory and Tess were both worried about their mother-in-law’s distress, totally confused by what was going on.  Tess finally asked, “Who is Keller?”

Heath answered quietly, “Jarrod’s worst nightmare.”  Walking to Dory’s chair, he sat on the armrest and took her hand in his.  Nick joined Tess and they began to relate Jarrod’s dealings with the Keller’s almost seven years ago. 

It all started when Keller’s sister was brutalized by a man Jarrod set free. The four Keller brothers blamed Jarrod and tormented him for several months.  The beatings were done behind closed doors and a threat to Audra’s life was enough to ensure Jarrod’s silence. When Nick and Heath finally discovered the truth, they too were forced into silence to keep Audra safe.  Jarrod was eventually kidnapped and taken to Texas where he faced a whole new form of torture at the hands of a sick and demented torturer, Thad Barron, Ruth’s brother.  A month of his warped games and Jarrod was no longer the man they remembered.  When they found him three months later, he didn’t even recognize them and was trapped in a world of silence, still fearful if he tried to communicate he would endanger those he loved.  He despised any physical interaction and Thad’s sick games left him with a lot of unresolved issues. His fear of tainted water being one of them.

The Kellers found Jarrod again, and after a bloody showdown, only Tim Keller was left standing.  Broken and battered, he was committed to an institute for the criminally insane. The judge decided on six years for the crime of kidnapping and attempted murder.  If at the end of six years he was determined sane, he would be a free man.  No one really expected him to be granted release, considering his condition when they locked him up.  Jarrod himself had been responsible for Keller’s capture and subsequent mental state. It was a difficult and long recovery for Jarrod but Ruth remained steadfastly by his side.  It seemed that his life was his again, until today, when Jarrod showed them the telegram.

Tess looked up at her husband, “Maybe he won’t come back.”

Desolation marked Nick’s features and he shook his head,  He won’t quit...until he has Jarrod’s silence.”

***

Ruth entered the study and stepped aside to allow Heath to leave. Heath stopped, kissed her cheek lightly and left the two of them alone, closing the door behind him.  Jarrod still stood at the mantle, and as she approached he looked up.  His eyes were filled with such pain that Ruth’s heart nearly broke. It had been a long time since she’d seen him look so unsettled.  Reading the telegram had shaken her, and she knew that Jarrod would be upset. It was still difficult to see him retreating to earlier times when such feelings were an everyday occurrence.

Gently taking a hold of his arm, she led him to the settee. The trembling was clearly visible and she lifted a knee onto the settee to sit beside him. Before she was even settled, his head dropped to her lap and he gripped her tightly as the emotions overtook him. She quietly rubbed his back and let him release the pent up anxieties the telegram had brought to the forefront. Leaning back, Ruth let Jarrod stretch out some, and his head never left her lap as he spoke very softly, the fear still clearly evident in his voice, “I can’t go through it again, Ruth...I can’t.”

Her fingers stroked his hair as she tried to reassure him, “Maybe it’s over, Jarrod.”

Jarrod shook his head, “It’ll never be over...until he has what he wants from me.”

“How long have you known?” There was no recrimination in her voice, only concern.

Sitting up, he wiped his eyes and opened his arms, letting her lean into his chest, “Couple of weeks.  I didn’t want to worry you.”

Ruth’s hand rubbed his chest, “So you let it eat away at you instead of talking about it.”

Pulling her closer, he sighed, “Well, I didn’t really plan on it getting to this point.”

“I know, sweetheart. You never do.”

He kissed his wife on the head, feeling better having told her the truth. Having suffered through most of it with him, Ruth was the only one that could see through the darkness that sometimes captured him and wouldn’t let go. Her soft touch and gentle understanding was often all he needed to bring him back to himself.  “Let’s go home.”

“Are you sure? I thought you’d want to stay here.” Ruth was surprised by his decision, figuring he would insist they stay within the safe confines of the main house.

Jarrod stood up and helped her to her feet, still holding her to his side as he walked her to the door, “It’s been two months since Keller got out. We can’t stay here indefinitely, waiting...” His voice had a certain resignation as he added, “When the time comes, it won’t matter where I am, he’ll find me.”

Ruth gasped and turned to bury her head in his chest, tears rolling down her face, “Please don’t talk that way.”

Cupping her neck, he held on and whispered reassurances, “I am not going willingly or without a fight. I have all of you to help me this time. I don’t have to do it alone.” He kissed her tears away as he said tenderly, “That makes all the difference in the world.”

Kissing him back, they enjoyed each other for a few moments before Ruth broke the kiss, breathless. “You had better stop that or your family will worry what is going on in here.”

Jarrod tried nibbling her neck as he teased, “You could tell them you were consoling me.”

Chuckling, she gently pushed him away, “You could try looking a little more...consoled.”

Squaring his shoulders and kissing her forehead, he smiled warmly, “Thank you for always being by my side when I need you the most.  I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I love you too much to ever consider otherwise.”

Jarrod opened the door and lead them out, knowing the family would be waiting expectantly for them. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, he kissed Ruth and spoke, “Go get the children and I’ll try to smooth things over before we leave.”

Ruth smiled and nodded, “Good luck.”

Holding her hand as she started up the stairs, Jarrod waited for her to turn back before he whispered a heartfelt, ‘I love you.’  Ruth squeezed his hand and continued on upstairs.

Taking a deep breath, Jarrod joined the family in the parlor. His red-rimmed eyes spoke of what had transpired in the study and they all waited for him to speak. “Ruth is getting the children, we’ll be heading home.”

Nick reacted as Jarrod expected, insisting on guards, while Heath calmly excused himself and went to hitch the wagon.  The women remained quiet, knowing that once Jarrod made up his mind there would be no changing it. If any of them had realized what Keller had in mind for Jarrod, they might have taken Nick’s concerns a little more seriously.

Part 3

Two months passed since that day in the study, and everyone was breathing a little easier, thinking maybe, just maybe, Keller had given up on Jarrod.  Life returned to normal, but Nick still insisted on having guards around the ranch.  He kept it quiet from Jarrod and Ruth, knowing it wouldn’t help if they thought he was still worried for their safety. Continuing his normal routine, Jarrod’s struggle turned inward and Ruth spent many a long night those first few weeks as he fought off the demons in his sleep.  They lessoned over time, but six years of healing had been diminished by a simple piece of paper.

Jarrod sat on his horse watching Ruth, just as he had a couple months ago.  His eyes scanned the yard, seeing if he could spot J.T., but the boy was simply too good anymore. If he didn’t want to be found, no amount of searching would help.  Usually only Jarrod’s firm tone brought him out of hiding.  Dismounting, he called out to Ruth, “How much trouble is he in this time?”

Ruth turned towards him with tears in her eyes and terror gripped Jarrod’s heart. Grabbing her arms, he asked anxiously, “Ruth, what is it?”

“I can’t find him,” cried Ruth, trying to wipe away her tears as she spoke, “He’s been missing for hours now.”

Still holding her, Jarrod lifted his head and shouted, “J.T., YOU COME OUT RIGHT THIS MINUTE!”

Jarrod’s eyes darted all around the yard, hoping to see a little dark head stick out at any moment.  Not seeing anything, his heart raced and he ran to the edges of the yard shouting for his son, “J.T.!”  Ruth joined him, but after several minutes of yelling and searching, they admitted defeat. J.T. was missing.  J.T. knew better than to ever leave the yard and Ruth knew just as Jarrod did... their nightmare had just become reality.  Ruth paled and Jarrod watched as her knees buckled.  As she started to faint, Jarrod only barely managed to get to her before she collapsed. Lifting her in his arms, he tried carrying her inside, but as she struggled in his arms he settled for sitting her on the porch. She was crying in great gasping sobs and Jarrod tried to calm her, his own hands shaking with fear for his son, “Shhh...We’ll find him. I’m gonna get some help. Just sit here for a minute, I’ll be right back.”

Rushing to his horse, his hands scrambled around the saddle and he lifted his rifle from the scabbard, checked the load and fired three quick shots into the air.  He was very much aware of Nick’s diligence on guarding the house and the warning shots would bring someone to their aid.  Jarrod hurried back to Ruth, his voice tense as he asked anxiously,  Where are Emily and Jake?”

“In the house,” stuttered Ruth and she broke down crying again.  She gasped between heaving sobs, “I’m sorry... It’s... all... my fault. I just... thought... he was... hiding... again.” 

Dropping down on one knee in front of her, Jarrod wrapped his arms around her, embracing her. His hand held her head to his chest as he tried to reassure her, “It’s not your fault. I should have been more careful. I never thought he would go after you or one of the children.” His own tears fell as he tried to console her. “I’ll get him back, I promise.”  He sat holding her as he watched over his shoulder for someone to arrive. In a matter of minutes, it was Duke that entered the yard, followed by two more riders.

Jarrod kissed Ruth and muttered, “I’ll be right back.”  He stepped off the porch and started issuing orders, “J.T.’s missing. We need help, it could be Keller. One of you stay here and help watch the house.”

Duke turned to the closest man, before Jarrod even finished and barked at the young man, “Go!”  Dismounting, Duke tied up his horse and turning to the remaining man, he ordered, “Get around the other side of the house and keep your eyes open.”  Pulling his own rifle out, he followed Jarrod onto the porch and watched the surrounding area while Jarrod got Ruth in the house.

Inside, Jarrod settled Ruth in the parlor and poured her a drink. His voice was filled with tenderness as he asked, “I’m going to change and pack some things. I’ll be right back. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

Ruth wiped her tears and nodded, “Let me help.” Jarrod started to protest and she interrupted him, her hands grabbing his in a tight grip, “I need something to do.” Her words were pleaded in desperation.  She needed to keep occupied, afraid if she didn’t she would become hysterical over J.T.’s fate.

Jarrod closed his eyes and nodded sympathetically then reached out a hand to help her up, “Come on.” By the time they were upstairs, Ruth was once again her strong self and went about packing for Jarrod while he changed into his work clothes. Jarrod finished dressing and walked to Jake’s crib to check on him. Reaching out his hand, he stroked his son’s cheek and blinked back tears as he thought about J.T.. Ruth stood by his side, both of them thinking of their oldest as they looked on the youngest. Wrapping his arm around Ruth’s waist, Jarrod whispered in her hair, his voice filled with emotion, “We’ll find him.”

“I know you will.” Patting his chest, she busied herself with his packing and added, “Go see Emily before you leave.”

Jarrod nodded silently, leaving her to finish while he went to Emily’s room. Emily brightened when he entered and ran to his arms. Dropping on one knee, he embraced her tightly, “Hello, baby girl.”

“Papa, you find J.T.?”

“Not yet baby, Papa’s going to look for him. You be good for Mama while I’m gone, okay?”

Emily told him very seriously, her eyes shining with determination, “Me be good.”

Jarrod tossed her hair and kissed her, “I know you will.” At three, she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation and she innocently went back to playing.  He paused at the door as he watched her then sadly left her to play, hoping he’d see her again.  If Keller did have J.T. it wasn’t going to be easy getting him back. Keller was notorious for his meticulous planning and he hadn’t taken J.T. on a whim.  Jarrod was the only reason his son had gone missing and Keller had plans for both of them or he’d never have taken the boy.  J.T. was a pawn in Keller’s plan and the guilt weighed heavy on Jarrod’s heart. His past had put their future in danger and another demon crept back into his soul.

*

The front yard was in chaos when Jarrod and Ruth walked arm in arm out of the house. Nick was shouting orders to the mass of men while Heath scouted the perimeter of the yard for some sign of J.T. or tracks that would lead them to him. Nick stopped in midsentence when he saw his brother and wife come down the steps and he hurried forward. His eyes reflected their own worry and he dropped a hand on Jarrod’s shoulder as he reached out to Ruth. He spoke softly to his sister-in-law, “Mother’s on her way over. I want you and the children at the ranch while were gone. I’m leaving Duke and a few men to keep an eye on things. You’ll be safer over there.”

Ruth nodded, “Thank you, Nick.” Her voice cracked as she spoke and she went into Jarrod’s waiting arms. There was no sound in the yard but the nervous movements of the horses, everyone contemplating the implications of J.T.’s disappearance.

Heath’s loud voice broke the silence, “OVER HERE!”

They all hurried over, and Heath’s face masked the fear at what he’d found, “He’s on horseback.”

Until that moment there was still hope that perhaps J.T. had wandered off, but all hope was lost with Heath’s words. Ruth trembled in Jarrod’s arms, her tears flowing freely as he tried to comfort her.  He walked her back to the house, talking in hushed tones the whole way.  Looking back at Nick, as his mounted his horse, Jarrod spoke firmly, “Go! I’ll catch up to you.”

Nick frowned, “Are you sure, big brother?”

Jarrod nodded, “Just go, I’ll wait until Mother gets here.”  Acknowledging Jarrod’s decision not to leave Ruth alone, he turned his horse towards the North, followed by sixteen mounted riders.

Two hours later, Jarrod caught up with his brother’s. Coming up from behind, one of the newest hands was startled by the lawyer’s transformation.  Where before he was a concerned and loving husband, the look he know wore was one of dark foreboding. The fearful rider veered to get out of his way, running into the rider next to him.  

“Hey, watch it!”

Jarrod rode on past, and the youngster hissed at the older man, “Did you see his face?” He shivered to make his point.

The riders consisted of a few who’d been around six years ago when Jarrod came home the first time and a lot of new hands.  The older riders quickly spread the word not to go near the senior Barkley, not if they valued their life. They remembered all too well the backlash if anyone crossed paths with him.  If not from Jarrod himself, then from his brothers.  Their bond of brotherhood was never stronger than when protecting their own. Many still remembered the final confrontation with Keller and the bloody battle that ensued. They saw the strength required to pull the oldest son from the battered body of Tim Keller.  If Keller did indeed have young J.T., then there would be no mercy this time.

Jarrod rode behind his brothers, unwilling to talk to anyone. He knew what was coming more than anyone else could even imagine. He remembered the menacing looks, the powerful blows, the sadistic torture and the thought of reliving even a small fraction of it, scared the hell out of him.  The only way he found to deal with the rising panic was to go back to an earlier time when he’d hardened himself to everything around him, putting up a barrier of defense against the fear.  It was a fragile defense at best, knowing it too could crumble if he dropped his guard for even a moment. For J.T.’s sake more than his own, he would do whatever necessary to return the child to his mother’s arms.

Part 4

For a week, Keller led them in and out of the hills of California, always staying one step ahead with a fresh horse every twenty miles.  He made no effort to hide his trail and on more than one occasion had made it clearly visible if the terrain didn’t cooperate. Keller’s erratic meanderings were irrational, meant to keep them guessing and they had no choice but to follow. 

Jarrod became more distant, only allowing Nick or Heath anywhere near him.  The first night on the trail almost ended in tragedy for the youngest member of the search party.  Lyle was anxious to please his new bosses so when he’d seen the eldest Barkley without a plate of food, he scooped up some beans and hardtack then ambled over to deliver them.  Jarrod was leaning into the tree, staring out into the darkness and Lyle reached out to touch his sleeve.  Heath sat at the fire, eating his own supper and looked up in time to see Jarrod turn on the young man. “Damn!” Throwing down his plate in haste, he bolted towards Jarrod.

Nick looked up and time seemed to move in slow motion as he watched Jarrod’s hand come up and grab the young man by the throat. He was on his feet moving towards the scene as Heath tried reasoning with his older brother, “Jarrod, put him down.”  Lyle was frantically trying to loosen Jarrod’s fingers that were clasped in a death grip on his throat, slowly squeezing the life out of him.

“DROP YOUR HANDS, LYLE!” yelled Nick, hoping the kid would do as he was told. Lyle was his own best chance, since Jarrod wasn’t aware of anything but the intrusion into his personal space.  Nick tried the softer approach, desperate for Lyle to listen, “Please, Lyle. Just take your hands off him and he’ll let you go.”

Lyle’s eyes were frantic as he looked at Nick. Whatever he saw was enough and he reluctantly dropped his hands to his side. Heath moved in front of Jarrod and pleaded for the young man’s life, “Please, Jarrod. Let him go.”

The threat removed, Jarrod released his hold on Lyle’s throat, turned and walked away, leaving Nick and Heath to deal with the fallout. Lyle lay on the ground gasping for air and rubbing his bruised neck. Nick knelt beside Lyle, trying to reassure him. Heath stood nearby, worried for Lyle and Jarrod and torn between who to help and looked down at his brother, “Nick?”

Nick glanced up seeing the concern in Heath’s eyes and motioned towards the trees, “Go.”  Heath left without even looking back, intent on finding Jarrod. Helping Lyle to his feet, Nick led him back to the fire and helped him sit down. As he walked over to the edge of camp worried about his brothers, Nick heard one of the older hands chuckle at Lyle, “Told ya not to mess with him.”  It was followed by several grunts of agreement.  Perhaps it was a good thing in the long run. All the hands wisely stayed clear of Jarrod the rest of the week, leaving him in the care of his brothers.

 A day out of Sacramento, Keller changed tactics and headed straight into town, timing his arrival just before the last train out for the day. By the time the search party made the train station, it had closed for the night and they were left to wait until the following morning to find out where Keller was headed.  It was discouraging to find themselves only fifty miles from home after a week of grueling travel on horseback.

They discussed their options in the hotel room that night and Nick decided it was time to send the men home. Keller was leading them on a wild goose chase, for whatever reason, and the extra men were only slowing them down. If the situation warranted, more men could always be sent for later on.  Jarrod remained in his room, pacing nervously from one side of the room to the other. He’d hardly eaten all week, only when Nick or Heath begged did he actually make an effort.  All week he driven the search party on, from sun up to sun down and would sit for hours staring into the darkness.  His brothers stayed close but basically left him alone. Their thoughts drifting to their own children and what it must be like for Jarrod. He was dealing not only with the loss of his son, but with his past as well. The two seemed destined to collide and Jarrod would be the unwilling player in the final outcome of who would win and who would lose.

The next morning, the three Barkley’s and sixteen of their men impatiently stood waiting for the depot to open.  The depot manager eyed the large group of men suspiciously as he approached the station.  Pulling the key from his pocket, he swallowed hard and moved towards the door, only to be stopped dead by a tall dark man with an angry scowl,  We need some information.”

“If you’ll give me a moment to open, I’ll be right with you.” The man cautiously shifted around Nick and unlocked the door, glancing nervously over his shoulder as three of the men followed him in.

Nick stormed up to the counter and started firing questions at the poor clerk.  Heath put a hand on his brother’s arm to slow him down, giving the man a chance to answer. Nick shot Heath and impatient glare, but with a  sigh of frustration he asked one question and waited for an answer, “We’re lookin’ for a big man, travelin’ with a little boy. Where’d they buy tickets for?”

The clerk, frowned and raised his eyebrows in thought, “Umm... San Antonio.”

Jarrod stepped forward and the man visibly flinched at his cold eyes, then relaxed as he heard the desperation in his voice as he asked,  The boy? How was he?”

“Seemed alright. Awful quiet.” The man hesitated then added, “He had a bruise on his face, but other than that he looked to be fine.  The man said to tell you...I guess it’s you, that if you call in the law or try and stop him, he’ll hurt the boy.” The clerk looked at the men anxiously and added, “He had a real crazy look in his eyes. Said he’d know if ya did anything to mess with his plans. I was mighty glad when he finally got back on the train.”

“Give us three tickets to San Antonio,” said Heath.  Jarrod looked on, but had retreated back to his own little world, worried about J.T.. It was a relief to know that his son was okay, but hearing he’d been hurt, even in the slightest, set his blood boiling.  While in the past, they found Keller’s threats to be empty ones, they didn’t dare underestimate him.  He’d spent six years incarcerated in a mental institution. There was no telling how far he’d go this time. They couldn’t take any chances with J.T.’s life.  They’d follow the man to the gates of hell if need be.

When Nick discovered that Keller had purchased a ticket to San Antonio he was livid and paced the station in anger.  Seven days. Seven days they’d spent chasing Keller, only to wind up right back where they started and him going in the opposite direction.  They boarded the train and when they stopped in Stockton, the hands got off with their horses and promised to keep the ranch running however long it took to get young J.T. back.  They went home with heavy hearts, not one of them looking forward to telling the Barkley women that the journey was taking the men to Texas.

 Heath had wisely booked them a private berth for Jarrod’s sake, remembering all to well how badly the last trip had gone. Under normal circumstances, Jarrod would have been fine traveling with people, he’d learned to tolerate others. His steady progression into the past was making any kind of interaction with strangers an impossibility.

“It don’t make no sense,” growled Nick. He shook his head, pacing the small confines of the compartment.

Jarrod listened to Nick go on about Keller dragging them all the way to Texas. Staring absently out the window he muttered, “It’s a game.”

Nick frowned, “Uh?”

Glancing sideways at his brother’s, Jarrod spoke solemnly, “It’s a game to him. He’s toying with me.”

Heath lost some of his color, slowly shook his head in disbelief and muttered, “The farm.”

Nick’s eyes darted between the two of them. He knew about the farm, but unlike his brother’s he’d never seen it first hand.  Heath had told him about the woods, and he could only imagine the horrors Jarrod had endured there.  If Keller was leading them back to the farm, then he was sicker and more demented than any of them had thought possible. 

Nodding his head, Jarrod’s eyes became distant again and he tried to stop the slight trembling in his hand.  The thought of returning to the site of his demons was a terrifying one. Turning back towards the window, Jarrod muttered very quietly, “Ruth.”   Ruth had always been Jarrod’s lifeline throughout his ordeal and his silent plea spoke volumes.  While Nick and Heath could be there to see Jarrod through the coming days or weeks, only Ruth could help him release the demons that were slowly invading his soul.

Tim Keller relaxed, enjoying the lulling motion of the train while J.T. slept. They’d been on the train for the three days, and he’d caught up on some much needed sleep.  Having the only key to their private berth made locking up the kid easy. He could either lock it from the inside when he needed to sleep, or lock it from the outside when he needed to leave. He’d spent two of the six years of his incarceration planning out every detail of his revenge against Barkley. After his release four months ago, he’d secured everything he needed to carry it out.  Keller had watched the Barkley house for almost two weeks before he felt comfortable enough with the routine of guards to sneak in and take the boy.  His plan hinged on getting in quickly, taking the kid, then hightailing it out, hoping to get a head start on the search party.  The boy had played right into his hand with his little game of hide and seek.  His propensity for staying in hiding only gave Keller more time to make his escape before they even discovered the boy was missing. 

He was leading them on a mind game across the country and laughed at the ease at which they had fallen into his trap.  Soon, they would realize that they should never have crossed paths with Tim Keller. With his family dead, except for his sister, he had nothing to lose.  Her future was predetermined and his was focused on one thing...the destruction of Jarrod Barkley.

Part 5

The trio neared the farm after two days of trailing Keller out of San Antonio. Jarrod hardly spoke and the closer they got to the sight of his nightmares the more hardened he became.  The cold, emptiness in his eyes was unsettling and Heath called a halt a mile from the house. 

“Why don’t ya’ll stay here and I’ll scout ahead and see if he’s there?  We don’t need to be ridin’ in to an ambush.” Heath stayed mounted and rode towards the farm leaving Nick and Jarrod to set up camp.  The sun was sinking beneath the horizon and it wouldn’t be long before they were cloaked in full darkness.  Jarrod went about doing what was necessary without comment and Nick shook his head at his brothers reticence. He wasn’t used to being so quiet, but he had no idea what to say to Jarrod that would make a difference. There was nothing in his experience that could even compare with what Jarrod had been through and then to have to worry about J.T. was more than Nick could fathom.

Heath returned an hour later.  His tone was filled with disgust as he spoke, “You might as well start a fire, ain’t nobody around to see it.”

Nick fumed, “Then what the hell are we doin’ here? He’s leading us around in circles.”

“I followed the tracks as far as I could before I lost the light.” 

“And?” snapped Nick.

Hesitating, Heath’s voice was distressed as he sighed, “He’s goin’ through the woods.”

The only sound that broke the silence was the sharp intake of breath from Jarrod. Nick and Heath both heard him bolt from the campsite and then his retreating footsteps.

Nick hollered anxiously after him, “Jarrod!”

Grabbing Nick’s arm as he tried to follow, Heath spoke softly, “Let him be.”

“He don’t need to be alone right now.” Nick’s sensitivity evident in his voice.

Heath whispered into the night, “Maybe he does, Nick.”

 

Jarrod stumbled out of camp, desperate to get away from the terror creeping up on him. It was something he no longer had any control over.  Tears streaked down his cheeks, images and emotions coursing over him in waves.  He fell to his knees, grabbing his head to stop the past from overtaking him. Lurching to his feet, he ran. Ran until he found a safe place, a place where nothing could touch him.

Nick and Heath had a sleepless night, concerned when Jarrod didn’t return.  The next morning, as the sky barely began to lighten they hurried to find him. Entering the farmyard, it was plain to see that no one had taken over the place after the death of Thad Barron.  The buildings were in disrepair and opportunistic weeds grew high and unhindered wherever the wind had dropped them.  They searched the house and the barn and found no sign of Jarrod. It wasn’t until they walked around the house that they came upon his sleeping form.  Both men blinked back tears at the sight of their older brother lying huddled on the porch, fast asleep. Heath nudged Nick and the two men silently made their way back to camp.  

“Why there?” asked Nick with a thick voice.

Heath shrugged noncommittally, “Don’t know, Nick. Reckon maybe he found the one place he was always safe here.  He said as long as he was on the porch, Thad left him alone.”

Nick’s anger was palpable as he growled, “I wish that son of a bitch was alive so I could kill him.”

“I reckon that honor belonged to Jarrod,” sighed Heath, pouring him and Nick some coffee.  Handing Nick the cup he suggested, “Drink up, this day is gonna be a long one.”

Jarrod walked up on them and held out his hand, “Can I get a cup of that?”  The fact that he was talking surprised both men, but Heath calmly filled a cup and handed it to his oldest brother. While his eyes were puffy and raw, Jarrod seemed to have lost some of the haunted look he’d been carrying for days. Turning towards the woods in the distance, Jarrod absently drank his coffee.  After only a few minutes, he threw the remainder of his coffee on the ground in disgust and sighed in resignation, “Let’s get this over with.” Grabbing his saddle, he readied himself to leave.

In short order, they were headed for the stand of trees and the closer they got the more tense Jarrod became.  Heath tried to ignore Jarrod’s reaction and kept his eye on the trail, picking up sign as fast as his eyes would allow, always moving forward.  As they neared the infamous clearing, Heath sighed in relief when none of the instruments of his brother’s torture appeared to be in sight.  It was, for all intensive purposes, only a clearing. There was no indication of the suffering the small patch of ground had inflicted on one man’s soul.

Jarrod breathing increased as they skirted the area, his eyes straight ahead, refusing to look upon the source of his nightmares. But evil has a way of drawing one to it’s power, and as they passed, Jarrod’s eyes darted sideways for a quick look, and then another. Each time making it harder to pull his eyes away as they saw more than an empty piece of ground. His hands trembled and his skin crawled, and his only hope was to close his eyes.  Even then the visions still tormented him.  Nick pulled up beside him and gently took the reins from his limp hands, leading him through the woods without so much as a word.  When they were well clear of the gruesome sight, Nick lead Jarrod’s horse to the small stream where Heath waited.  As his horse slowed, Jarrod cautiously opened his eyes and unable to stop the flood of emotions, bolted off his horse and stumbled into the bushes. The sound of retching tore at his brother’s hearts, but neither one moved afraid that their presence would only aggravate the problem.  Jarrod came out of the bushes after several minutes of heaving looking pale and ragged.  He walked to the edge of the stream and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, his shaking hands making the task almost impossible. Frustrated, he tore away the buttons in a desperate attempt to get out of his shirt. No longer conscious of any more than the need to get clean, he dropped to his knees in the water and scooping up handfuls of sand, tried to rub away the nonexistent filth that wanted to suffocate him. 

Heath and Nick’s disbelief turned to horror as they watched Jarrod’s frantic scrubbing. Fear for Jarrod made them hurry to stop the painful sight. Nick splashed into the water and dropped on his knees in front of Jarrod.  Oblivious to his presence, Jarrod continued to rub the sand viciously into his skin, abrading away what couldn’t be seen.  With a firm hand, Nick reached out and took Jarrod’s hands in his own and simply held on. Confused, Jarrod made no struggle and his eye’s lifted to the pained hazel ones. With a gasp, Jarrod leaned forward and dropped his head on Nick’s strong shoulder, letting his younger brother hold him up.  Nick grasped the back of Jarrod’s neck and held him tenderly as Jarrod shuddered beneath his touch. Jarrod’s voice cracked in a whispered plea, “Make it stop, Nick.”

The hopelessness in his brother voice was like daggers in his heart and Nick dropped his head onto Jarrod’s opposite shoulder and whispered soft reassurances, “We’ll get you through this.”  Standing over them, the anguish tearing through him, Heath’s own tears fell.  He was all too familiar with what Jarrod was feeling.  Even years of separation from his own hell didn’t diminish the terror that sometimes gripped him and he hadn’t had to go back to the site of his nightmares as Jarrod was doing.  Keller was administering his own warped brand of hell on Jarrod.  There was no doubt in Heath’s mind that Tim Keller would be spending time in hell before it was all said and done.

********

A day later they were back on the train headed towards Sacramento...again. The depot manager had informed them of Keller’s destination when the three worn riders returned to San Antonio.  The first thing Nick did was send a telegram home instructing the men to camp out in Sacramento and wait for Keller to show.  It irritated him that none of them had thought about it earlier.  He attributed it to worry over J.T., but that didn’t negate the fact that they could have saved themselves the heart wrenching trip to Texas if they’d thought about wiring ahead.  Nick wanted nothing more than to have the whole charade end when the men pulled the sick bastard from the train.  He would love to see the look on his face when he realized he’d been the one to be outfoxed for once.  They may be a day behind him, but the men could be there when he got off the train, effectively ending his campaign against Jarrod and rescue J.T. before he decided the boy was expendable. 

Jarrod had said little since that day at the stream. He allowed his brothers to tend to his injuries.  Heath cleaned him up and Nick applied the liniment, both distressed when Jarrod didn’t utter a sound, as if he were preparing himself for the eventual encounter with Keller.

As the train pulled into Tucson, Nick got off and looked anxiously up and down the platform.  His face broke into a grin as he eyed his expected traveler.  Grabbing the bags, he ushered his guest on to the train, heading directly towards Jarrod’s compartment.

Jarrod sat staring out the window and when the door started to open, his expression hardened and he tensed involuntarily, putting up a barrier against the unknown.  When his dark eyes gazed upon his salvation he wasted no time opening his arms in a warm welcome.

As he held her tightly to his chest, his eyes wandered over her shoulder to Nick, who stood at the door looking satisfied.  “How?”

Nick shrugged, “I sent a telegram. We can’t stop at home, but there weren’t no reason she couldn’t meet us and ride back with us. Give ya some time together.”  Embarrassed, Nick ducked his head and turned to leave, only to find Jarrod’s hand on his arm stopping him from departing. 

Jarrod looked at Nick, his eyes shining with unspoken thanks. Nick nodded his head at his brother’s gratitude and left him and Ruth alone. She was the only one that could help him.  While he and Heath might be able to help Jarrod along, no one could help him banish the demons that were already finding a place to hide in his soul.  Nick was no fool, he knew it was Ruth that saved his brother the first time and he would go to any lengths necessary to see that she was there for him this time. If they had any hope of getting J.T. back they needed Jarrod in one piece.

Inside the compartment, Jarrod and Ruth simply held on, taking comfort in one another. It was the closest Jarrod had allowed anyone to get in almost two weeks. He needed the contact as much as she did. Picking her up, he moved to the chair and sat with her in his lap.  He related their travels and told her about J.T., what little they knew.  It was only slightly comforting to know that despite all they were enduring, J.T. was still okay.  As Jarrod spoke of their journey, his voice began to drift away. Ruth could feel him trembling with pent up anxieties and she waited quietly, letting him decide what was best. His arms came around her in a crushing embrace and he let it out.  Her quiet reassurances healing his battered psyche just as she had done so many times in the past.

 Once the worst was past, he lifted her up and pulled the bed down.  Laying at her side, he felt whole once again, and he lowered his head kissing her tenderly, his eyes reflecting the love in her own. The kisses turned passionate, and Ruth let Jarrod take control, knowing the wrong touch might bring forth old memories.   Their lovemaking was healer of its own, and the weeks of tension drifted away with their release.  For the remainder of the journey North they stayed close and Nick never once regretted his decision to call on her.  While still reserved when they arrived in Sacramento, Jarrod was looking more relaxed than he had since the start of their trip.  As they got off the train, hoping their ordeal was over, they found four disappointed faces waiting at the depot.

Part 6

“What the hell do you mean he wasn’t on the train?” bellowed Nick and four cowboys wished they were anywhere other than facing their boss’s wrath. 

Duke stepped forward and told Nick as calmly as possible, “We watched every passenger that got off that train for the last two days and he wasn’t one of ‘em.”  His head dropped with his own despair, “I’m sorry Nick. He just didn’t get this far. He musta got off on an earlier stop.”

Nick stomped away frustrated and muttering, “Damn it!”

Seeing his boss in such a state concerned the long time foreman. He’d been with the family long enough that when they were hurting he was hurting.  He eyed Heath remorsefully, “I’m sorry Heath, he just wasn’t on the train.”

Heath dropped his hand on Duke’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, “Ain’t yer fault Duke.  Keller just outguessed us...again.”  He clapped him on the back, “Come on. Let’s see what we can find out while Nick cools down.”

As the two men walked, Duke asked, “How’s Jarrod doin’?”

Shrugging, Heath sighed, “He’s doin’ better than he was. Ruth helped a lot.”

Duke smiled, “She’s a hell of a gal, ain’t she?”

Heath agreed whole heartedly, “No argument there.”

Grabbing Heath as he strode ahead, Duke gestured to where Nick and Jarrod were, “Go with yer brothers, Heath. I’ll get to the telegraph office and start sendin’ out some wires.”

Hesitating, Heath was torn between calming Nick and finding Keller.  There was little they could do until they found his point of departure and Duke was willing to take that job out of his hands. Reaching in his pocket, he grabbed a handful of money and handed Duke several bills. “Send one to every stop on the line if you have to.” He started off and turned back, “Thanks Duke, I owe ya one.”

Duke shook his head, “Don’t owe me nothin’. I’d do anything to find that boy.” His voice wavered as he spoke of J.T. and Heath knew the old man loved the boy as much as they all did.  J.T. had a way about him that made him easy to love. His quiet mannerisms and love of the land made him popular with all the hands. Duke was no exception.

Heath nodded, “I know ya would Duke. We won’t be far from here. Let us know when somethin’ comes in.”

“Sure Heath. Go get ya somethin’ ta eat. Ya’ll look like ya could use a good hot meal.”

“Thanks Duke.” Heath left him and hurried back to where Nick was pacing.  Ruth and Jarrod sat on the seat outside the depot holding hands, numb with the reality that their hopes had been dashed.  J.T. wouldn’t be reuniting with them and once again they were left with the realization that they may never see him again.

Nick met Heath on the way back, looking at him expectedly, “Anything?”

Heath shook his head, “Duke’s sendin’ telegrams out. Just have ta wait.”

“The boys got our horses off. They’re taking care of them.”

“You calmed down some?” 

Nodding his head, Nick was clearly frustrated by the turn of events and grumbled “How’d he know we were gonna have someone waiting on him?”  The two men sat on one of the empty benches, stretching out their long legs as they spoke in hushed tones, conscious of Jarrod’s presence nearby.

 “Don’t know. Reckon it ain’t just him. He’s had fresh horses every step of the way, so it’s plain he ain’t doin’ it by himself.  That kinda planning takes men.”

 “Where’s he getting’ that kind of manpower? He’s been in jail for six years.” 

 Money’ll buy ya lots of men if ya ain’t particular ‘bout what yer buyin’.”

Shrugging his shoulders in agreement, Nick looked up and down the depot anxiously, “I can’t just sit here doin’ nothin’.” Bracing his hands on his knees, he used the leverage to get to his feet and paced nervously in front of Heath.

Heath’s eyes followed Nick’s path for a few minutes, then stood up shaking his head at Nick’s restlessness, “Come on, lets go get us somethin’ to eat.”

Nick tilted his head towards Jarrod and Ruth, “Let’s see if they want to join us. Ain’t doin’ no good sitting ‘round here.”

Jarrod sat forward leaning on his knees, staring absently forward with Ruth’s hand rubbing lazy circles on his back. Nick and Heath walked towards the distraught couple just as a scraggly looking cowboy came down the boardwalk. No one paid him much mind until he stopped in front of the group.  Looking at them, he asked rudely, “You the Barkley’s?”

Planting his hands on his hips, Nick eyed him cautiously, “Who’s askin’?”

The man stood toe to toe with Nick and snarled, “I’d watch how you talk to me if’n you wanna see the boy.”

Jarrod moved with precision speed and had the man in a throat hold and his gun pointed at his temple before anyone even had time to react. The cold haunted look in his eyes were all the threat he needed as he demanded, “Talk.”

Fighting for air, the man gasped as he croaked out a response, “You kill me... you won’t find your kid.”

The dark fury in Jarrod’s eyes betrayed the calmness in his voice, “I kill you and he’ll just send someone else. Now talk!”  To make a point, Jarrod’s hand tightened on the man’s throat and everyone could see the rising panic in stranger’s eyes.  Heath and Nick stood close to Jarrod, unsure of his approach.  They’d seen him hold a man with the same death grip, but never with such control.  This wasn’t the same desperate act they had seen so many times before, Jarrod was completely aware of what he was doing. It was Ruth that held them back with a barely discernable shake of her head. Conceding to her wish, Nick and Heath let Jarrod handle the situation.

Shaking his head in agreement, the cowboy gasped for air as Jarrod loosened his grip, but still holding his gun and hand firmly in place. Jarrod glared at the man and growled, “Where’s Keller?”

“Modesto.”

“Where’s he headed?”

The man shook his head, and Jarrod’s squeezed his fingers shutting off the cowboys air supply. Jarrod leaned in close, and told  him in a low menacing tone, “Tell me or I’ll rip your throat out.”

Clearly frightened, the man squeaked, “Oregon.” 

“Where in Oregon?”  Jarrod once again loosened his grip, letting the man talk.

“Some mine... on his... property.”

Jarrod released him and the breathless cowboy fell to his knees, grabbing his throat in a desperate attempt to breathe.  As Jarrod looked down at him with contempt the man yelled, “Keller was right, you’re crazy!”

Slipping his gun into his holster, Jarrod calmly turned away, muttering, “So it would seem.”

The man screamed at his retreating back, “You won’t stop him. He’s as nuts as you are. You’re a dead man.”

Ignoring him, Jarrod walked through the depot not caring if anyone was following. His goal reestablished, he pulled the reins of his horse from the hitching rail and mounted up, stopping only when Ruth reached out and placed a hand on his leg. Looking down, his features softened as he gazed at her worried face and he said softly, “I’ll bring him back.”

Ruth nodded, tears gleaming in her eyes. Nick and Heath hurried to catch up, and Duke suddenly appeared in front of the depot. Jarrod gave Ruth one last look as he leaned over the saddle and kissed her lightly on the forehead.  Lifting back up, his eyes caught Duke’s, “See she gets home, Duke.”  

Duke stepped forward and stood behind Ruth, “Yes, sir. Count on it.” Jarrod nodded his thanks and turned his horse north, his brother’s right behind him.

*****************

The trip into Oregon took several days, none of them being familiar with the territory. Previous investigations into Keller’s past revealed he owned a large ranch near Klamath Falls.  Hoping to gain more information about his holdings when they got there, they rode fast, no longer concerned with following Keller’s trail.  Finding themselves close to their quarry, they found a place in town and went in search of information. Jarrod checked the land offices for mining claims on the Keller Ranch while Nick and Heath talked to the locals. The townspeople were fearful of the strangers and information was less than forthcoming. Only Jarrod was able to find anything of any value pertaining to Keller.  Disgusted and tired, the three men gathered at the saloon to exchange what little they’d managed to find out.

Keller did own a mine on his property, but it had been abandoned when the gold played out and the miners moved on to more lucrative digs. Word in town was that Keller was a man on a mission, and those that got in his way had been dealt with severely, hence the fear they’d seen in eyes of informants.  Even the sheriff refused to go up against Keller and his band of followers.

Finishing the last of their beer, they exited the saloon and headed for the hotel unaware of the eyes that followed them.  They walked in silence, but all three heads turned down the alley as they reached the opening, alerted by the quiet hush of voices.

A voice came out of the darkness. “Hands up, boys!”

The three brothers went for their guns, unwilling to make this easy and a harsh voice barked, “Drop ‘em now or you won’t see the boy again.”  They dropped the guns without hesitation, warily watching as they were surrounded by Keller’s men.  Jarrod was the first to go down as the gun butt met the back of his head and he sank to the ground unconscious.  Nick and Heath both tried to get to him, but soon met the same fate.

Part 7

Heath woke with a blinding headache wondering how long he’d been out.  Sitting up in the dirt of the alley, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and willed the nausea to go away. Reaching up his hand to the knot at the back of his head, he was relieved to find he wasn’t bleeding.  Looking around and still groggy from the attack, he searched for his brothers.  His heart lurched when he found only Nick’s still form a few feet away. Crawling closer, he rolled Nick onto his back and receiving no response, shook his shoulder as he hissed, “Nick, wake up.”

“Um,” groaned Nick, using his hand to find the source of his pain. Remembering the fight, he sat up too quickly and Heath steadied him as he started to tilt.  “Jarrod?”

Heath shook his head and answered gravely, “He’s gone.”

Pounding the dirt with his hand, Nick groused, “How long?”

“Don’t know, just woke up myself. You okay?”

Wincing at the pain in his head, Nick nodded gingerly, “Yeah, got a headache s’all.”

Helping Nick to his feet, the two men supported each other until they were clear of the alleyway. Cautiously they stepped out, looking both ways for potential attackers and found only an old man reclining on a nearby bench.  He sat up straight and looked at them as he spoke, his voice stammering, “They said to tell ya not to go after him or they’d kill the boy.”  Delivering the message, the man hurried away clearly terrified by the two cowboys.

They watched him go, and Heath caught Nick as he stumbled after him, “Ain’t gonna do no good. He’s only the messenger.”

Nick stopped and hung his head in frustration. All he could think of was Jarrod in the hands of that madman Keller.  Angry, he kicked the dirt with his boot. They’d spent all their time protecting Jarrod and Keller still got what he wanted.  The whole town was against them and judging from their comments, it would be near impossible to get close to the mine without being seen by one of Keller’s men. 

Heath was thinking much the same and he laid a hand on Nick’s back bringing him back to the present, “Can’t do anything tonight anyway. We might as well try and get some sleep.  Maybe things will look better in the mornin’.”

Ignoring Heath, Nick turned and headed the other way.  Heath stalked after him, asking, “Where you goin’?”

“To get my horse. You stay here if you want, I’m goin’ after Jarrod,” snapped Nick. His stride increased and Heath hurried to catch him.

Grabbing Nick’s shoulder from behind he spun him around and was confronted by an angry gaze. Heath matched his brother’s determination, his hand firmly grasping Nick’s arm as he tried to reason with him, “Nick, you can’t see yer hands in front of yer face out there. How you gonna find Keller’s place? The only thing yer gonna do is get yourself hurt and what good is that gonna do Jarrod?”

Shrugging from Heath’s grasp, Nick was agitated and it showed, “We gotta do something.”

Heath nodded in understanding, “We will Nick...tomorrow. There ain’t nothin’ we can do tonight.”

Nick heaved in frustration but let Heath lead them back to the hotel.  Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

*******************

Jarrod woke up slowly, his head pounding unmercifully. He tried to move and realized his hands were tied in front of him.  Sitting up, his eyes darted everywhere, his senses on alert. The room was lit by only a single lantern, casting it in an eerie glow.  Rock walls surrounding him, he knew that the cowboy was telling the truth about Keller and the mine. It was obviously an old room for dynamite, since it had a large steel door shutting it off from the rest of the mine.  Scanning the room, his eyes found the small form huddled nearby and his heart raced as he scrambled to get to it. With a tentative hand, he reached out and gently stroked the dark-haired boy, his eyes filling with tears.  His voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, “J.T.?”

J.T. rolled over and looked up at Jarrod in disbelief.  Sobs of relief came next and he launched himself at his father. Tied as he was, Jarrod couldn’t get his arms around the boy, so he rested his head on the small one buried in his shoulder. “Shh, baby! Papa’s here.”  He pushed his arms away from his body and provided J.T. an opening to duck under, letting the frightened little boy snuggle against him.  He didn’t try to even hide his own fears as he asked, “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they?”

Big blue eyes looked up at him and J.T. sniffled, “Not since that first day Papa.”  Jarrod could make out the yellow bruise on his son’s cheek and fury built in his eyes.  It was one thing to hurt an adult, but to hurt a child was unthinkable to Jarrod. He squeezed J.T., feeling the guilt at having been unable to protect his son from Keller’s revenge. 

Anguish ripped through him, as he told J.T., “I’m sorry you had to go through all this son.”

J.T. told him tiredly, “S’okay.”

“No it’s not. These men want me son, not you. Do you understand?”

The boy nodded and asked innocently, “Are they gonna hurt you?”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Jarrod joked, trying to reassure him, “I’m pretty tough, little man.”

Pride resounded in J.T.’s voice as he told his father, “I know you are Papa, but that Mr. Keller...well...I just don’t like him much.” J.T. frowned and Jarrod was reminded of Nick. The young boy carried a lot of his uncle’s determination and outspokenness when he believed in something strongly enough.

Jarrod smiled, “I don’t either.” 

J.T. rested in his father’s arms and Jarrod couldn’t make himself sleep, too relieved to be holding onto his son again. He kissed the top of J.T.’s head and slowly rocked him back to sleep, never relinquishing his hold all night.

*

Jarrod sat with his back to the wall, watching the door nervously.  He’d be foolish if he didn’t admit he was afraid of what Keller had in store for him.  The only thing he was thankful for was that it was Keller and not Thad that had gotten a hold of him a second time. Jarrod was under no illusion that he would pay for whatever Keller thought him accountable for, but compared to Thad Barron, Tim Keller was a novice in the art of torture. Even if Keller killed him, it was more merciful than anything Thad had done. So he sat and waited, holding his son protectively against his chest.  When he saw the door begin to slowly open, he laid J.T. gently on the floor, covering him with a blanket.  Jarrod moved between him and the door, using himself as a shield against whoever and whatever came through the door.

Time had not altered Tim Keller’s features. At over six foot and three hundred pounds he was still an intimidating figure and flanked by two smaller, rough looking individuals only made his bulk seem larger. Jarrod brought up the barrier, masking his fear with a stone cold look.  Keller eyed Jarrod arrogantly, “So you finally decided to show, Counselor.”

With clenched jaw, Jarrod insisted, “You have me now. Let my son go.”

Keller laughed, “I don’t think so. You see, he is my ace in the hole. As long as I have him, I have you.  Any mistake you make and the kid pays the price.”

Fury built in Jarrod with each word and it exploded at Keller’s threat. Launching himself at his captor, his tied hands gripped Keller’s throat with the intent to kill. Keller tried to push Jarrod away, but his efforts were useless. One of his bodyguards moved in and landed a couple of harsh blows into Jarrod’s ribs with no obvious affect. Jarrod refused to loosen his grip on his tormentor. The second man slipped around the struggling pair and when Jarrod heard the click of a pistol behind him, the fight went out of him as he turned and saw the gun on J.T..  Keller rubbed his throat as he snarled, “So you see, Counselor, you really have no choice anymore.” 

Jarrod glared at him, but remained motionless, fearful for J.T..  Keller growled as he walked from the room, “Bring him along.”   Jarrod let himself be led, putting up no struggle.  His knees almost buckled as he glanced around the large mine area that had been set up for the next phase.  His heart raced and he fought back the rising nausea as his eyes fell on the familiar items scattered about the room.

Keller smiled smugly, “I brought along some things to make you feel more at home.” He motioned to his gunmen, “Hang him up.”  Jarrod’s eyes widened and he dug in his heels as the two men grabbed him and began pushing him towards the hook that hung from a large pulley system attached to an overhead beam. Keller stood in front of him, grabbed his face in his big hand and threatened menacingly, “Don’t fight or we’ll bring the boy out. You wouldn’t want him to see this would you?”  Jarrod stopped his struggles, but he couldn’t stop the sweat of terror that oozed from every pore.

Waiting on his men to finish, Keller walked around the room, purposely picking up an item here and an item there just for Jarrod’s benefit. As he began speaking, his voice was filled with satisfaction, “I made a trip down to Texas just for you, Counselor.  Found some very interesting things there.” He walked to the table and picked up a tattered book. Opening it, he scanned the pages as he continued, “I found a wonderful piece of reading while I was there. Seems Mr. Barron liked to keep a detailed record of his client’s stay.” He walked around Jarrod, adding nonchalantly, “I didn’t know there were so many ways to torture a man. Some mighty interesting reading.”  Moving behind Jarrod, he purposely slammed the book shut, just to see his reaction.

Jarrod startled at the sound, his nerves already on edge as the adrenalin raced through his veins. His only defense was to try and preserve the outward calm as Keller walked around him in circles. Jarrod refused to follow him with his eyes, instead he stared straight ahead, the dark look of days gone by firmly in place.

Keller moved to the table and fingered several of the items before him, hemming and hawing as he went.  When he finally picked up the whip, Jarrod almost sighed his relief. He knew it would hurt and he was in no way looking forward to it, but there were far worse things than that and he would take a whipping any day.  His arms ached from being stretched out over his head and already his wrists were raw from the chaffing ropes.  With whip in hand, Keller positioned himself behind him, and Jarrod’s hands clenched into tight fists, his muscles tensed and he steeled himself against the coming pain as he waited for the first strike...

Part 8

Heath and Nick were up before dawn and headed towards Keller’s place, anxious and worried about Jarrod.  A mile from the mine, they tied the horses and started in on foot with rifles in hand.  Heath kept a watchful eye on everything and as they got closer and closer their forward progress became slower and more cautious.  Their chances of getting to Jarrod and J.T. were slim if they didn’t take care of the men guarding the area around the entrance first. A quarter mile from the mine, it was Nick that spotted the first sentry. He lounged lazily against a boulder twenty yards down the trail and several feet above them, oblivious to their presence as they crouched behind their own outcropping of rock.

Heath whispered to Nick, “Stay here. This one’s mine.” Nick nodded, confident in his brother’s abilities to get to the man unseen. He watched Heath silently approach the man, but lost him as he dropped into a low crawl to sneak up on the unsuspecting sentry.  He couldn’t see Heath, but he did see the man startle then freeze. Nick was surprised when the man dropped his guns and hurried away, then seconds later go riding by going as fast as his horse would carry him.  Nick stood with a confused frown on his face as he walked towards Heath, his eyes still watching the riders back. Not looking where he was going, he almost stumbled and he hurried to where Heath stood smiling.

“What’d you say to him? He looked like the devil was after him.”

Heath flashed him a grin, “I just asked him if the money Keller was payin’ him was worth a bullet in the head.  That seemed ta do the trick.” 

Nick clapped Heath on the back, “Let’s get a move on. I hope the rest are as easy to convince as this one was.”

The two men took most of the day picking out Keller’s men and by late afternoon they had guns in hand, ready to breach the mine entrance. Heath went in first, keeping close to the wall, his footfalls silent as he snuck forward. Nick followed behind and a hundred yards in they could see a light up ahead, guiding them on. Heath held a finger to his lips to silence Nick before moving forward, but it was unnecessary. Nick’s eyes were locked on Jarrod’s still form as he hung by his arms, his shirt in tatters from Keller’s whipping.  His limp body supported only by the ropes tied around his bloody wrists, Jarrod’s head drooped on his chest and his breathing was slow and shallow. Heath tried to ignore it all until he was sure it was safe to enter. They’d made it this far undetected, to act on their emotions now would make the day a wasted effort.  Pointing to the far side of the room, Nick could see a guard slumped on a stack of crates, sound asleep. Creeping forward, Heath put his gun to the man’s head and cocked it, startling the man from his sleep. Reacting before the man could call out, Heath pistol whipped him, sending him back into oblivion.  Holstering the gun, he hurried to help Nick who was trying to lift their unconscious brother off the hook that held him up. Nick wrapped his arms around Jarrod and held him, while Heath grabbed his wrists and eased them over the hook.  They slowly lowered him to the ground, and the jostling brought a moan from Jarrod.

Jarrod sat on the floor, his frame supported against Nick’s shoulder.  Heath retrieved his knife from his boot and carefully cut away the ropes that tore at Jarrod’s wrists. Nick spoke tenderly to his older brother, his voice filled with anguish, “Jarrod! Wake up.” 

The voice brought him slowly back and Jarrod wished he’d stayed in the comforting darkness. With awareness came the pain.  His back burned like fire and hours of hanging with his arms above his head had made them numb, but now the blood was returning. Feeling returned first as a tingling, that quickly turned to pins and needles.  He rocked back and forth trying to fight the painful sensations, still unaware of his release.  His eyes tried to focus on his surroundings trying to remember where he was and why.  Recollection brought fear and he pulled from his brother’s hold intent on getting away, only calming when they spoke soft reassurances, “It’s alright Jarrod, we’re here to get you out.”

Jarrod resisted their help and tried to get to his feet despite the pain in his back and arms. Finally on his knees, he could go no farther and he gasped, “J.T.”

Heath dropped closer to him and asked anxiously, “Where is here? Have you seen him?”

Lifting his head, Jarrod’s eyes were glazed over in pain as he tilted his head towards the mine shaft to their right. His voice was hoarse and he swallowed hard before speaking, “Down there... Steel door.”  His pain was clearly written in his clenched features and Nick rested a comforting arm on his shoulder as Heath rose to his feet.

Heath’ll get him. Let’s get you outta here.”

Jarrod shook his head, “Not...without...my...son.”

Nick watched Heath go look for J.T., then turned back to Jarrod. Handing him his canteen, Jarrod drank thirstily after Nick reassured him it was his.  “Do you know where Keller is?”

“No...never gone...long.” Jarrod once again tried to make it to his feet and only with Nick’s help was he finally standing on unsteady legs. Nick draped Jarrod’s arm over his shoulder and carefully wrapped an arm around his waist, mindful of his tender back.  Jarrod flinched at his touch, but remained silent. 

Heath came out of the tunnel holding a blanketed bundle in his arms. Seeing Jarrod’s worried expression he quickly reassured him, “He’s sleepins’all.  You gonna make it?”

Jarrod nodded, but neither Nick nor Heath was so sure.  As it was, Jarrod barely looked like he was capable of standing, let alone making the mile trek back to their horses. The sun was beginning to set and they had no more than an hour of daylight left.  J.T. woke up when the fresh air and sunlight hit his face and seeing it was his Uncle Heath holding him, broke out with a big grin and hugged him hard.  It only lasted a few seconds when his head shot up and he cried out with panic in his voice. “Papa!”

Shh J.T., turn and look in front of us.” Heath let the boy turn in his arms and when he squirmed, wanting down, Heath lowered him to the ground.  J.T. ran to catch up with Nick who was helping his father.  Jarrod forced a smile as his son looked up sympathetically, “You hurt, Papa?”

Jarrod reached out with his free hand and tousled J.T.’s hair. “I’ll be fine, son.”  Heath followed after him and ducked under Jarrod’s other arm, hoping with the two of them supporting him they might move a little faster.  They had no idea how many men were in the mine and the more distance they could put between them before they were discovered missing, the better their chances.  Heath kept a careful eye on their back trail as the moved ever so slowly towards the horses.  He looked back as they neared the final hill, and his head snapped around, yelling, “Take cover!”

Nick and Jarrod, both alarmed by Heath’s warning, turned as one and saw the riders cresting the hill behind them.  Jarrod pulled his arms from his brother’s shoulders, adrenalin keeping him on his feet as he reached out and grabbed for J.T.  Picking him up, he ducked behind a large outcropping of rock and made sure they were out of sight before taking a quick glance at their pursuers.  Leaning heavily into the rock, his body shook with pain and he knew he would only slow his brothers down. Heath and Nick were both holding rifles on the advancing riders, waiting for them to get into range. There were at least ten riders and it wouldn’t take long before they were outflanked.  With no other thought, Jarrod grabbed Heath and said firmly, “Take J.T. and get out of here.”

Heath shook his head and said adamantly, “I ain’t leavin’ you here.”

Jarrod flung his arm down the trail, his eyes filled with fear for J.T.,  Look out there. We don’t stand a chance of getting out of here together. I can’t keep up.” His eyes pleaded with his younger brother as J.T. clung tightly to his leg, “I want J.T. away from all this.”

Nick added his own conviction, “I’ll stay with Jarrod. We’ll try to catch up.   You get that boy to safety.”

Heath closed his eyes and nodded reluctantly. Jarrod knelt down and gave J.T. a final hug, “You mind your Uncle Heath.” 

Tears streamed down the boy’s face as he held tight to his father’s neck, “I don’t wanna go without you, Papa!”

Jarrod pushed him away, tears building in his own eyes, “I love you, son.”  With no more to say, he handed J.T. off to Heath in exchange for his rifle. “Look after him.”  Heath gripped Jarrod’s arm and his eyes offered a promise that J.T. would not fall back into Keller’s hands.  Jarrod tousled his son’s hair one last time and leaned forward for a quick kiss on his tear stained face.

Nick turned and fired down the hill, “We’ll cover you.”  Heath headed up the hill, J.T. tucked safely under his arm as he dodged in and out of rocks until he vanished amongst the boulder strewn hillside.   As soon as they could, Nick and Jarrod began their own ascent, but Jarrod’s strength was waning and Keller’s men were advancing from all sides. It was only a matter of time before all their escape routes would be closed off.  Jarrod sat trying to catch his breath for a moment, while Nick watched their backs.  He sat on his knees, his hands clenched tight as they rested on his thighs.  His wrists, still bleeding and untended, throbbed with every beat of his heart and any movement sent waves of pain into his back.  While few of the lashes had broken the skin, it was still tender and swollen, covered in a crisscross pattern of welts.  The pain wore at him and threatened to send him into oblivion on the few occasions he’d stumbled. Had Nick not been there to catch him he would have landed face first into the rocks.

His voice was just barely a whisper as he summoned his brother, “Nick?”

Nick moved closer, his eyes darting all around before coming to rest on Jarrod.  There was no mistaking his concern as he took in Jarrod’s battered and worn frame. Laying a gentle hand on his shoulder he gave it a light squeeze and responded softly,  Yeah, big brother.”

“You need to get out while you still can.”

“I ain’t leavin’ ya.”  Nick refused to look Jarrod in the eye, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fight if he started spouting logic.  For all the years between them, Jarrod was still his older brother and it wasn’t easy to say no when he began pleading his case.

Jarrod slumped into the rock at his side, needing the added support as he drank the water Nick handed him.  Very quietly, he tried to convince Nick of the futility of staying, “You have to go.  I can’t go on.  If they get us both, then who will help us. It’ll be a week before Heath can get back with help. Please Nick, don’t let them get you too.”  

Nick dropped on one knee in front of Jarrod and he could see the pain his brother was suffering from, “I won’t leave you. So you can just save your breath.”  He clasped Jarrod’s neck and pulled him until their foreheads touched.  His voice was filled with emotion as he spoke, “Besides, they haven’t got us yet.”  Reaching out, Nick gripped Jarrod at the elbow and began pulling him to his feet. “Let’s get you up and get a move on.”

Standing up on wobbly legs, Jarrod let Nick hold him up and his voice grew weaker as he tried to make his brother listen, “Please, Nick. They’ll only use you against me.”

Wrapping a firm hand around Jarrod’s waist he pulled him along, “Then we better not let them catch us.”  The sun was already below the horizon and Nick was hoping for full darkness to hide their trail in the rocks.  If they could get over the hill, then the horse was only a quarter mile downhill.  Time seemed to drag as they traveled with only a sliver of moonlight to guide them.  Nick was exhausted from helping Jarrod, but refused to give in to Keller and his men.  They walked and rested, keeping conversation to a minimum as they hid amongst the rocks.  Nick took Jarrod in the direction he remembered the horse being and hoped they would get there soon.  Jarrod was all but unconscious as they made their way downhill and Nick sighed with relief when he found his horse tied where he’d left him and Heath’s no where in sight.  That at least meant that Heath and J.T. had made it to safety.

Nick helped Jarrod onto the horse and handed him the canteen to drink from.  Nick had to help him, Jarrod’s hands too shaky to even lift the water to his mouth.  Getting his own drink, Nick lifted his foot into the stirrup and froze at the sound of rifles being readied all around him.  Keller’s voice came out of the darkness and sent chills up the brother’s backs, “Long time no see, gentlemen.”

Part 9

Back in the mine, Nick watched them tie Jarrod’s hands and he was beginning to see Jarrod was right. Already they had gotten Jarrod’s cooperation with a simple threat to his own safety. Jarrod had ceased his struggles and let them do as they wished rather than see any harm come to his brother.  Nick’s heart ached when he realized Keller only wanted him to keep Jarrod in line so they could inflict whatever torture they deemed suitable.  While Jarrod was tied, Nick had to endure leg shackles that were firmly secured to a mine joist.  The only good thing was it freed his hands to help Jarrod.  He only barely caught Jarrod as they threw him on the floor at his feet. 

Keller took no chances and used three of his men to guard the two brothers.  Using Keller’s own obsession against him, Nick insisted Jarrod wouldn’t be much good if his wrists or back got infected and was allowed water and bandages to bind his brother’s wrists.  Jarrod slumped into Nick’s shoulder as he slept and Nick kept a watchful eye on Keller and his men.  Keller only allowed an hour of rest before he kicked Jarrod awake, despite Nick’s protests. “Time to eat.” 

They handed both men a plate of beans and Nick wasted no time cleaning his.  Jarrod ate, but with less gusto than his brother and no matter how much Nick insisted, Jarrod refused to drink the water.  Keller smiled at the scene and nodded to one of his men, the one called Pete. He was short and looked underfed. He wore a mean expression as if he blamed the world for his small stature.  He took pleasure in ruling over someone else, a role he wasn’t used to and he seemed to feed on the power of being in control.  Pete handed Keller the canteen and joined the other two men surrounding Jarrod.  Cal, the heaviest of the three gunmen, pointed his pistol at a fuming Nick and ordered Jarrod, “Time to play, Counselor.” He motioned towards the center of the room where Pete now stood with the hook in his hand, “Get over there.”

Jarrod eased himself up, his body aching from the previous beating and he moved slowly. Too slowly for Keller, who motioned to Cal as he stood over Nick.  With rifle in hand, the man struck a vicious blow to Nick’s head.  Jarrod turned at the sound of Nick’s moan of pain and saw him slump to the floor, his head bleeding from the fresh gash on his cheek.

 “NICK!”  Jarrod ignored everything but his brother as he tried to rush to his aid, only to be stopped short by a punch to his stomach, sending him to his knees, doubled over in agony. 

Keller stood over Jarrod and snapped, “Have you forgotten the rules, Counselor.” He kicked Jarrod in the ribs to make his point clear, “Not a sound. If you do, your brother here is the one who will suffer.” Nodding at the man standing over Nick, Keller flashed an evil grin at Jarrod as his man hit Nick again.  Nick was slammed into the wall and he struggled to sit up.

Trying to breathe through the pain in his ribs and back, Jarrod looked at Nick, who was defiantly sitting up and glaring at the men through unfocused eyes.  Jarrod met Nick’s stunned gaze, shook his head sorrowfully then got on his feet.  Looking back a final time, Jarrod allowed himself to be hung by the hook without a struggle.  Nick grabbed a cloth left from Jarrod’s bandaging and pressed it firmly to his bleeding face.  Fighting to stay conscious,  Nick was only vaguely aware as they pulled Jarrod’s head back and made him drink again and again.  His own pain seemed distant as he slipped into the darkness and collapsed in heap in the dirt. 

**

Jarrod’s arms had finally quit aching, now they were just numb.  If he stood on his toes he could relieve some of the pressure off his wrists, but even they had lost all feeling.  He couldn’t even feel the blood as it gathered beneath the bandages and dripped down his arms. His legs throbbed from standing, but all the aches and pains were nothing in comparison to the burning nausea in his stomach and the cramping that assaulted his bowels.  It came in spells, each one worse than the one before.  He waited, watching Nick and hoping he would wake soon, yet not wanting him to see the pain he was in.  Nick was the sensitive one and Jarrod knew that his younger brother would suffer right along with him.  As Nick finally began to stir, Jarrod cursed inwardly, feeling himself getting hotter and hotter until he broke out in a heavy sweat.  Shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear away the salty sting from his eyes, the nausea began and he swallowed hard to stop the rising bile.  He bit back a moan as the deep cramping began and his breathing turned to panting.  As much as his body allowed he tried curling in on himself to fight the inevitable.  Keller was taking a page directly from Thad’s book, and Jarrod knew that it wouldn’t be much longer before his body betrayed him.  When the cramping passed, he took deep gasping breaths and distanced himself from the coming humiliation.  The final bout gave little warning and his stomach clenched involuntarily as the poison was expelled with violent heaving and the emptying of his bowels.  It went on until his body eliminated the foreign substance and left him unable to even stand, the exhaustion to heavy to bear.  He shook uncontrollably in the aftermath, and stood covered in his own waste while Keller and his men laughed and taunted him.  

Nick ignored his own pain,  feeling only anguish as he watched Jarrod, who was staring straight ahead, unseeing, tuning out everything around him.  A private man whose dignity and pride meant everything, Jarrod was reduced to less than a man and his only defense was to close out that which was causing him so much humiliation.  Keller let the teasing go on for more than an hour before he beckoned Nick to help his brother down.

“Get him cleaned up.  He’s disgusting!” barked Keller, his order followed by cynical laugh. “Take them down to the stream.  It’s a shame when a grown man can’t control himself.”  Keller’s men joined in his laughter.

  Jarrod was so weak from being sick, that Nick had to help steady him but Jarrod shrugged him off and stoically made his own way, the dark penetrating look in his eyes masking his inner turmoil and distress.  As they made it to the edge of the small spring fed pond, Jarrod staggered into the cold water to remove his shirt and pants. The shirt was in too many pieces to salvage and he rinsed it out and used it to clean away the foulness that covered him.  He scrubbed his pants with trembling hands and put them on before leaving the water, not wishing to subject himself to any more taunting.  Nick cleaned his own head wound and waited near the bank of the pool for Jarrod to finish, then pointed to the edge of the pond where water bubbled to the surface, “Get a drink big brother. Some fresh water’ll do you some good.”

Jarrod trudged through the water to the source of the spring and took several long drinks.  The water, cool and refreshing, did a lot to replenish all that he’d lost being sick.  The cold water helped relieve some of the aches, but that was only temporary. He knew as soon as his body lost the coolness, the aches and pains would return.

Pete pointed his gun at Jarrod and sneered, “Time to go, Counselor. We got better things ta to today.” Cal and the third man, Bill laughed at his inference and Jarrod glared at them, refusing to drop  his gaze until they had to look away, uncomfortable with his cold stare.   Nick walked beside Jarrod ready to help if he faltered, his own mobility limited by the leg shackles.  Keller was waiting for their return and ordered his men as they entered the chamber, “Put the shackles on his wrists and stretch him out.”  Nick blanched at Keller’s demand, but refused to rise to the bait, fearful he would make things worse for Jarrod.  It went against every thing Nick Barkley was not to fight, but he put it all aside for Jarrod’s sake.  With each hour, he could see Jarrod slipping farther and farther away and there was nothing he could do but watch.

Keller waited as Jarrod was outfitted with shackles and connected to the overhead pulleys. Ever so slowly, Keller had his men pull on the ropes attached to the wrist irons and Jarrod’s arms were stretched high and wide until he was sure his shoulders would separate from his body and his feet barely touched the ground. His breathing was labored as the pain intensified, only to reach a plateau when Keller had the men tie off the ropes. Both Nick and Jarrod watched anxiously as Keller circled the table in search of the perfect instrument to inflict his torture.  Nick shuddered at his choice and Jarrod’s eyes widened in fear.  Jarrod’s body trembled against his will as Keller moved in closer with the bamboo stick. 

With a swift swat to Jarrod’s ribs, Keller got his attention and Nick yelled, no longer able to keep silent, “STOP! DON’T DO THIS! PLEASE!” Clawing at the chains that held him to the post, Nick tugged frantically as he glanced over his shoulder and cringed every time the stick landed on his brother’s back.  Nick screamed obscenities at Keller and his men as the beating continued.  Tired of listening to Nick’s tirade, Keller advanced on him and landed several blows to Nick’s back and shoulders.  Nick instinctively covered his head with his hands and tried to protect himself from the searing agony.   In too much pain, Nick sank to the floor and his anguished sigh spoke of the sympathy he had for Jarrod, “Oh dear god!”  Through pain glazed eyes, he looked up at Jarrod with tears of despair rolling down his face.  With every blow Keller landed, Nick felt the pain right along with his older brother. 

Jarrod’s face was bright red, his eyes clenched and every muscle was corded tight. Soaked to the skin with his own sweat, he remained silent and trembled with excruciating pain.  Keller had done his homework.  This was one of Thad’s favorites and Jarrod would have taken a hundred lashes with the whip rather than suffer through another beating with the bamboo. The strength of the hollow tube was deceiving and held up under an incredible amount of pressure, blow after blow it bounced off the skin of it’s victim, leaving behind an exact impression of it’s features.  The hits turned to welts and in a short span of time the bruising followed.  The pain wasn’t just restricted to the surface of the skin, but went deep into the muscles and sometimes bone.  By the time Keller was done, Jarrod could no longer hold his head up and his legs wouldn’t support his weight.  Keller grabbed a handful of Jarrod’s hair and pulled his head up and an evil smile passed his lips when he found Jarrod staring back with cold blue eyes.  Releasing his grip, Jarrod’s head lolled forward and Keller’s sadistic laugh could be heard all the way through the mine as he left the two prisoners in the care of his men.

Lowering Jarrod to the floor, they left the shackles in place and simply hauled him to where Nick was.  Bill, the third guard, seemed uncomfortable with the whole situation but he was a follower, not a leader. He’d gone with the flow his whole life, more concerned with making a living than whether his deeds were right or wrong.  This job was no exception and he delivered food to the prisoners as he’d been ordered.  Keep ‘em fed and make sure they eat were the only two things he needed to worry about to make his money.   Seemed easy enough until the oldest Barkley refused.  He could understand the man’s wariness, but Pete decided to weld his new power in Keller’s absence. 

 Jarrod lay in the dirt, too tired to even pull himself up.  His body screamed with every movement and when they demanded he eat the beans set before him, his stomach turned over against his will. He shook his head and closed his eyes against the pain, wishing for the darkness that would relieve the incessant throbbing up and down his back and legs.

Pete’s obnoxious prodding of his ribs, brought him back, “Wake up, Counselor. Time to eat.”

Nick moved closer to shield Jarrod and growled, “Leave him be.”

“Shut up and get over there.” Pete pointed to the wall and Nick stubbornly held his ground, never taking his eyes off the man.  The fury built in Pete’s eyes and he unleashed a vicious kick into Jarrod’s ribs. He glowered at Nick as he yelled, “I SAID MOVE!”  Reluctantly Nick moved away, his intense gaze forcing Pete to look away even as he scooted back to the wall.

Motioning to his partners, Pete pointed his gun at Jarrod and ordered Bill and Cal, “Make him eat. Boss’s orders.”  The two men lifted Jarrod to a sitting position and handed him the plate, which Jarrod promptly threw at them, the sight of it making him sick.   Pete snapped at Bill, “Get him another plate.  I’ll make him eat.”

Pointing his gun at Nick, Pete snarled, “Get up, Barkley!” His eyes darted between Nick and Jarrod and Nick slowly got to his feet, understanding the message clearly.  Jarrod warily watched Pete grab Nick and pull him towards the table. “Sit down!” Keeping a close eye on Nick, Pete glared at Jarrod as Bill handed him another plate of beans. “Now you are gonna eat everything on that plate.”  Grabbing Nick’s hand he set it flat on the table. Nick frowned with confusion, until the he saw the man pick a knife off the table and hold it threateningly over his outstretched hand.  Jarrod blanched and with a shaky hand he picked up his spoon and took a bite of the beans, his eyes never leaving Nick, worried about the consequences if he didn’t at least make the effort.  His stomach turned over as soon as the beans hit bottom and he choked back the bile that rose in his throat. 

Pete’s eyes turned dark and sinister, and with no warning he plunged the knife into the back of Nick’s hand, pinning it to the table.  Nick stiffened in his seat and lost all color as he bit back a scream.  His other hand reached for the knife to pull it away, but Pete swatted his hand and growled at Jarrod, “Best get to work on them beans, Counselor. Don’t be losin’ any of it either, or your brother here is just gonna suffer all that much longer.”  Nick’s breathing was fast and shallow as he watched Jarrod struggle with every bite of his meal.  Several times he gagged on the food and it was painful to watch him swallow back the bile time and time again as he hurried to empty the plate.  Whenever Jarrod slowed down even a little, Pete flicked the knife, sending waves of agony through Nick. Both brothers were soaked in their own perspiration by the time Jarrod finished, Nick with pain and Jarrod with nausea.  

Nick was shaking from the agonizing pain that shot up his arm and he slumped in relief when Pete, finally satisfied, pulled the knife from his hand.  As soon as the knife was removed, Nick’s hand began to bleed. Grabbing his wrist tightly, Nick clasped it to his chest and stumbled back to his ‘corner’.  Jarrod crawled to his brother’s side and took the injured hand in his own to survey the damage.  The thin bladed knife had pierced Nick’s hand leaving a one inch wound all the way through. Thankfully, it appeared to have missed the bones, but it would be painful and sore for some time to come.  Jarrod refused to look Nick in the eye as he reached up and undid the knot on his bandana, pulling it from his brother’s neck and using it to bind his hand.  Nick leaned back heavily into the wall as Jarrod wrapped his hand, despite the obvious discomfort he was in.  Even through his own pain, Nick could see Jarrod’s stomach clenching convulsively as his brother fought the nausea that the meager supper had brought on.  His hand wrapped, Nick clasped Jarrod’s arm with his other and spoke softly, “You okay?” 

Jarrod still wouldn’t make eye contact, instead he gave Nick a quick nod and moved gingerly to lay on the floor.  The pain in his back was so bad it brought tears to his eyes and he lay on his stomach in the dirt, his head buried in his arm.   The nausea refused to leave and he swallowed hard several times to try and alleviate the urge to let it just happen.  He hated to even think what their captors would do if he lost his supper after all their efforts to make him eat.  Nick watched over him for some time before his breathing evened out in sleep, only then did he give in to his own need for sleep.

 Part 10

The next two days followed the same routine, over and over.  As his condition worsened, Jarrod had to rely solely on Nick for his care. The poison left him weak and the bamboo thrashings were slowly taking away his mobility.  Nick agonized over Keller’s demented pleasure and had taken several lashings of his own as he tried to help Jarrod.  At night, after Keller left, Nick held Jarrod in his arms and felt him shaking with pain and sickness as he tried to find sleep.  Nick had never felt so helpless or been in a situation that seemed so hopeless. He remembered the Jarrod of six years ago and it was suddenly all too easy to see how a man could change from the brother he grew up with to the one they found in Colorado.  Nick couldn’t fathom how Jarrod had survived a month of Thad’s torture after seeing the pain and humiliation inflicted on one man’s body in just three short days. He thought back on all the times he’d teased his older brother over the years about not being tough enough or strong enough to handle the day to day ranch work and he was filled with remorse.  Jarrod had changed after Thad, keeping up his strength by helping out on the ranch at every opportunity, but all Nick could think of was how often he’d belittled his older brother with his innocent teasing. His brother had more strength of will then Nick had ever given him credit for, for he doubted many men could go through what he had, not once, but twice now. 

Through the whole ordeal he’d watched Jarrod fight back the screams or a moan of pain for his sake. Feeling the burning ache in his own back and shoulders he wondered how Jarrod found the strength to withstand the abuse and still remain silent.  Jarrod had not uttered a sound in three days, and Nick wondered how different things might have been if Keller didn’t have someone to hold over Jarrod, demanding his obedience. After the incident with the knife, Keller had Jarrod’s full cooperation and admittedly Nick’s own.  The only thing good he could say about the whole set up was that he was glad that J.T. hadn’t had to witness his father’s torture.  Nick would surely have nightmares, he shuddered to think what a five-year-old boy would go through.  He was thankful that Heath had gotten J.T. away and hoped that he would soon return with men to put an end to the whole rotten mess.  Still, even if Heath turned right around after taking J.T. home it would still be at least four more days before they saw any type of rescue. 

Wrapping his arms a little tighter around his older brother, Nick hoped Jarrod could last that long.  His whole body was covered in varying shades of purple, and his wrists were raw and swollen from hanging so long.  They seeped blood continually and Nick cleaned them every time they made the trip to clean Jarrod up.  Nick grimaced, remembering the humiliation Jarrod had endured over the last three days, each time Keller administered the poison and how incredibly difficult it had been for Jarrod to force food in and keep it there.  Nick doubted very much if Jarrod would ever get over his fear of water now. Whatever advances he’d made towards that end were negated with Keller’s vindictiveness.  So many times in the past he’d been thoroughly frustrated with Jarrod’s irrational behavior, yet now it seemed a perfectly natural reaction. 

On the dawn of their fourth day, Keller appeared almost too jovial when he ordered his men to hang Jarrod in the pulley system again.  Jarrod went without complaint and stood as he had for the last three days, waiting almost impassively for whatever was coming, his face hardened against whatever Keller did.  Nick watched curiously as Keller took a seat front and center and just nodded to the men behind him.  Bill and Cal held back, not really wanting to participate, but too afraid of Keller to tell him no outright. They let Pete take the lead, who anxiously followed Keller’s preset orders.  Sauntering towards Jarrod, Nick watched in disbelief and then horror as Pete began running his hands up and down Jarrod’s chest and arms.  Jarrod flinched at every touch and tried to pull away from the roaming hands, his eyes wide with fear as they darted nervously to Pete’s hands.  Keller watched with a satisfied smile, letting Pete play with his toy.  With no where to go, Jarrod had to endure his worst nightmare as Pete fondled and caressed every inch of his exposed skin.  For several hours, he taunted Jarrod with his hands sending him back in time when his nightmares had become reality.  His body slumped, and he hung limply from the chains, seemingly unaware of all that was around him.  Nick finally stopped watching, and dropped his head onto his knees, disgusted by the scene in front of him.

Keller soon grew tired of nothing happening and snarled at his men, “Okay, enough playing. Let’s see how the lawyer does with the real thing.”

Jarrod and Nick’s heads snapped up and they both stared at Keller fearfully.  Pete was practically jumping for joy while the other men looked on in disgust.  Pete moved closer to Jarrod and slipped behind his back, his hands caressing him as his eyes closed in ecstasy.  Nick yelled at Keller, begging for his brother’s sake, “STOP HIM! Don’t let him do this.  Oh god, please. He’s suffered enough!”  Tears rolled down his cheeks as he continued to plead for Jarrod.  Keller ignored him, his eyes never leaving the man he blamed for everything, as he waited for the final humiliation with an excited gleam in his eyes.   

Pete pressed closer to Jarrod, who could feel the man’s arousal next to his flesh and he struggled with everything he had to get away.  Nick watched as Pete moved closer and when his hands begin to undo the buttons on Jarrod’s pants, Jarrod’s eyes widened with a terror Nick had never seen in a man.  He watched helplessly when Jarrod started to shake almost violently, frantically pulling on the shackles, desperate to get away.  The metal at his wrists opening old wounds and ripping new ones. Mindless of the pain, blood flowed down Jarrod’s arms and when Pete slipped his pants off his hips and moved up next to him, Jarrod’s mouth opened and a blood-curdling, spine chilling scream begged for mercy until his throat was raw.  For the first time in over four days, he screamed at the terror about to engulf him. Never had Nick seen such pure panic and fright and he begged Keller to end it as Jarrod’s body convulsed against the onslaught of demons past.  Breathing in great gulping gasps, his eyes suddenly rolled back in his head, his body lost all control and Jarrod Barkley lost the fight with his demons as they rushed in and took possession of his soul.  Pete was the only one oblivious to Jarrod’s plight, but he too met his demons that day when a single bullet pierced his brain, dropping him to the floor before he ever got a chance to fulfill his role.

Nick turned sharply at the sound, and was shocked to see Keller drop the arm that held the gun and fall heavily into the chair beneath him.  Keller looked to his men and said with despair, “Get him down.”  Bill and Cal stood motionless, eyes wide with fear, wary of the man that still held the gun.

“I said get him down. NOW!” Keller moved forward to do it himself and Bill rushed to release the chains that held Jarrod while Cal unhooked them from the shackles.  Releasing his hold on Jarrod after easing him to the ground, Keller turned to Nick and spoke quietly, with genuine sadness, “Help your brother, Mr. Barkley.”

Nick rushed forward and took Jarrod in his arms, his tears falling unabashed. Bill grabbed a blanket and handed it to Nick.  Too stunned to even speak, Nick took the blanket and draped it over Jarrod as he lay unconscious in his lap.

Tim Keller watched, but he was beyond seeing. In that single moment when his eyes watched a man suffer an unimaginable horror, new demons entered Tim Keller’s soul. These demons would not be banished, for they were they were his conscience and the damage he had inflicted on another human being was unforgivable.  He tried to reconcile what he had done, tried to convince himself that it was for his sister, but nothing could erase the memory of what he had just seen.  He knew that was how his sister looked when her assailant took his pleasure and it ate away at him to think that he had become as bad as the man that took her away from him.  It wasn’t the man before him. The one he’d reduced to nothing. The one he was so intent on breaking. The one he saw diminished before his very eyes.  No, he was the only one responsible this day. There was no forgiveness for what he had done.  Rising from his seat, he grabbed his coat and hat and exited the mine, hoping that by leaving behind the carnage he’d created he could banish it from his soul. 

Nick watched Keller and his men leave, and his eyes drifted down to Jarrod as he lay broken in his arms.   Two much evil permeated the air that day and the demons drifted in and out looking for the vulnerable ones.  Two brothers, bound by blood, bound by love weren’t strong enough to hold off the malevolent demons.  They found the blue eyed one and settled into their old niches, comfortable with familiar darkness already hidden there.  The hazel eyed one disappointed them and they only found refuge in the darkest corners of his soul.  The demons of Keller’s wrath would keep their tenacious hold on the wounded souls of two men and only time would determine if the two brothers were strong enough to fight off the damage that had been inflicted.

 

Part 2