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~/~/~( Chapter 9 )~~~


Brian’s mouth fell open, his blue eyes fixating on Nick’s rigid form beside him. Brian’s gaze flitted to the contractor as the man’s smile widened before again staring at his blond friend. Brian swallowed, hesitantly licking his lips, “Fa- father? ...Nick, he’s- he’s your...”

Nick soundlessly nodded his head, not taking his eyes off of his step-father standing before him. The man chuckled, “Glad you remembered me, boy. Thought you might’ve forgotten your dear ole dad.”

A muscle in Nick’s jaw jumped as he clenched it, grinding out in a low voice, “Never. I could never forget a low-life like you.”

The man laughed, his dark eyes twinkling in amusement as he looked to Branson beside him, “Cut ‘em loose and get them on the ground, they aren’t going anywhere.”

Branson gave a curt nod and stepped up to Brian, motioning to a couple of his men as he untied Brian’s hands. Soon Brian was untied and pulled from Joker’s back, a low grunt escaping his clenched teeth at the further abuse on his injured shoulder. As Brian stood in front of Joker, he watched as they pulled Nick from Journey, wincing himself as Nick gave a slight yelp of pain. Brian returned his attention to the contractor, his mind reeling at the information that the man was Nick’s father. It confused him slightly, as the man had totally different features and brown eyes and hair. So unlike Nick’s blond hair and blue eyes and, as much as the rebel tried to hide and deny it, baby faced features.

Nick rubbed his wrists and glared at his step-father, his hatred for the man brought to the forefront of his mind and dulling the pain in his side. As his step-father stared steadily back at him, Nick blinked and suddenly felt the memories of his childhood with the man surge wildly through his mind. All the yelling, the beatings, the hatred and disgust glaring from his step-father’s dark eyes. Nick shuddered involuntarily as the images rekindled his childhood fear of the man before him, not being able to stop himself from suddenly lowering his eyes, breaking off the eye contact.

The contractor smiled smugly, having seen the slightest flicker of fear in his step-son’s blue eyes before they looked away. He shook his head at the young blond man before him, his voice condescending as he spoke, “Ah, my boy. You surely have become a sorry excuse of a man, haven’t you? Just as well, I suppose.” The man sneered, his eyes narrowing, “I always knew you’d be good for nothing.”

Nick only ducked his head, while Brian narrowed his eyes in sudden anger. Brian took a step forward, only stopping as guns suddenly arose and aimed in his direction. He ignored them, his jeweled eyes sparking with malice as he glowered at this man that called himself Nick’s father, “Now you see here, Mister Whoever-the-hell-you-are. I don’t know you, but I do know Nick and he is worth far more than your ineffectual life, I can assure you of that. He is my friend and I’d not waste a moment in giving my very life for him.”

Nick’s head shot up and he stared at Brian, shock clearly visible on his face. Brian sent him a small smile and nod of assurance before returning his attention to the contractor, who had merely raised an eyebrow and eyed Brian.

“Really,” commented the contractor, looking Brian up and down, “So a gambler would die for my son. Hmmm... Well, that seems sufficient.” The contractor smiled, “And my name, young man, is Arlen Morgan. Now you are able to address me proper.” Arlen turned back to Nick, dismissing the gambler, “Well, my boy! Are you not curious as to why I have so ardently been searching for you?”

Nick merely put on the best glare he could manage as his emotions spun wildly inside him, which apparently wasn’t very effective as Arlen laughed, “Perhaps I shall help you in determining that enigma for you.”

Without turning away from Nick, Arlen snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, the front door of the house swung open and two small figures burst forth.

“Nick!” cried one, a young male voice.

“Oh, Nick!” cried the other, obviously female, “We’ve missed you!”

Nick’s face paled in shock once again and he fell to his knees, a wince briefly pulling at his face as his side flared in an instant of pain. His blue eyes never strayed from the two figures running toward him and he reached his arms out wide as they approached, their small forms immediately embracing him in a fierce hug. A blond head resting on each of his shoulders, Nick wrapped his arms tightly around them, closing his eyes as he whispered, “Aaron... Angel... I’ve missed you, too. I’m sorry I went away, so sorry... But... I had to. I just couldn’t stay.”

Aaron and Angel pulled back so they could see Nick’s face, their hands never relinquishing their hold. Nick’s composure crumbled at their young, tear streaked faces. He stared into their twin sets of brown eyes, his own blue eyes shimmering, “I truly am sorry, munchkins... Will- will you forgive me?”

Aaron nodded his head emphatically, his twin Angel biting her lip as she nodded in a more shy manner, her shoulder length blond tresses bouncing. Aaron’s voice was tearful as he finally worked past the lump in his throat, “We forgive you, Nick. We never hated you, just- just really missed you.” Aaron stopped and glanced away, then back at Nick’s pained face, “Nick-... ...I-it’s-... um...”

Nick frowned slightly, “What, munchkin?”

Aaron’s face crumbled and his voice came out as a wail, “Oh, Nick! Mama died!”

Nick looked as if he’d been slapped as Aaron and Angel burst into tears anew, both embracing Nick once again, their sobs echoing in his ears. Nick tightened his arms about his brother and sister, his eyes welling with tears as he looked at his step-father in disbelief.

Arlen nodded his head, his face a mask and not showing a bit of remorse, “Your mother, Jane Carter-Morgan, died a month ago of consumption.”

Nick shut his eyes tight, several tears falling free and sliding down his face. Arlen smiled widely and motioned to an elderly man beside him, dressed in a black suit, who had been the one to let the twins out and then followed them out into he yard. Arlen spoke to him when he saw he had his attention, “Take them back inside, and DON’T let them out of that room. Do you understand, Frederick?”

The elderly man nodded his head sadly, obviously not wanting to do as was ordered but not having a choice. Frederick walked to the three siblings and gently pried the twins away from Nick, “Come, young masters. You must return to the house.”

“No!” yelled Aaron, trying to maintain his grip on his brother, “I want to stay with Nick!”

Angel grabbed the old man’s sleeve, her brown doe-eyes begging up at Frederick, “Please, let us stay.”

“I’m sorry, we must go.”

As his brother and sister were taken from his arms, Nick stared up at the old man. He shook his head slightly, whispering in both disbelief and disappointment, “Frederick?”

As he backed away from Nick with the twins, Frederick nodded slightly, “Yes, Nickolas... I’m sorry.”

Nick sat back on his heels as Frederick took his brother and sister away, not diverting his stare until the front door closed and shut them from his sight. He couldn’t believe it... Aaron, Angel... they were here. Nick felt his control slip away as the next thought rolled through his mind ...Mother... With a muted cry, Nick hunched over and gripped his head in his hands, an overwhelming sense of loss crippling his slumped frame, “Oh, God... Mother...” he groaned from behind his hands, a sob catching in his throat, “Mama...”

Brian stood frozen, somewhat surprised as he felt his own heart pained at what his newly found friend must be going through. Everything that had just happened to Nick... His father, his siblings, his mother’s death... it was tremendous. Nick took the full load all at once, that was just too much at one time for anyone.

Brian glanced around at the men around him and watched them as he began to move toward Nick, not wanting to coerce them into anything drastic. Brian couldn’t believe the expression on Arlen Morgan’s face, the features vividly portraying enjoyment and satisfaction at the state of Nick’s distress. It boggled Brian’s mind that the man could be that cold-hearted, and to his own son.

Brian hesitantly approached Nick’s slumped figure, his eyes still furtively glancing about at the men that surrounded them for danger. Brian stopped at Nick’s side and gently rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder, feeling the slight tremors of grief coursing through the blond, “Nick?”

Nick didn’t move or acknowledge Brian, so the gambler tried again, kneeling beside him, “Nick? Are you all right?... ...Nick, you can trust me, remember?”

Without a word, Nick’s left hand suddenly shot out and he wrapped his fingers tightly around Brian’s wrist in a bruising grip, his shining blue eyes now boring into Brian’s, “Oh God, Brian... ...God, she’s gone... ...I’ll never see her again...”

Startled at first, Brian quickly recovered and moved his other hand upon Nick’s, squeezing it in support, his eyes squinting at the pain Nick was going through. He quickly searched his mind for an answer to help Nick, his breath leaving him slowly as he came to a decision. Nick had to be reminded of the whole picture of their situation, so he could distract himself from his grief, “I understand, Nick... But... you must remember that we have a bigger problem at the moment. We must get out of this, Nick, and I need you with me to do it...” Brian firmly gripped Nick’s hand, his jeweled eyes holding Nick’s gaze, “Are you with me?”

Nick stared back at Brian’s steady face, breathing in a trembling breath and holding it for a second before releasing it in a shaky sigh, “I’m with you, Brian, I’m with you.”

Brian smiled, “Good.”

“All right, enough of this,” announced Arlen in annoyance, reminding Nick and Brian of his presence. Arlen sent them a disgusted look before turning to Branson beside him, “Branson, take them to the barn and tie ‘em up good. I don’t want to lose my precious son so soon. At least... not until I get what I want.”

Branson chuckled, “Sure thing, boss. So... yer all right with the gambler? I thought it best to take him, too.”

Arlen nodded thoughtfully, “If you’re correct in saying Kevin Richardson is coming, yes. His cousin, as you related him, should be just the thing to hold him off. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to the only family he has left, now would he?”

Branson laughed, “Nope. I thought it was a good idea, I wouldn’t mind killin’ him though, just to rile Richardson.”

“No,” stated Arlen firmly, “Leave him untouched for now, if Mr. Richardson shows up... then we may afford some injury to Mr. Littrell.”

Branson grinned and thumped Arlen on the back, “I like yer thinkin’, boss!”

Arlen sneered and straightened his coat, “Don’t ever touch me again.”

Branson backed off at the warning tone, “Hey, no problem.” He turned to his five men, “Go on boys! Get ‘em settled!”

As Branson’s men grabbed and half walked, half dragged Nick and Brian to the barn beside the house, Arlen grabbed Branson’s arm. Arlen’s dark eyes seared into Branson’s grays, “You’re responsible for the gambler, not me. You’re the one that wanted him as bait for Richardson, so you take care of ‘im. You got me?”

Branson stared at Arlen for a moment, then nodded his head, “Got it. The gambler’s my extra baggage.”

Arlen released Branson’s arm with a rough shove, “Good.” As Branson walked to the house, Arlen looked down at his hand in disgust, lip turned up. Then with one last scowl, he briskly wiped it on his trousers. With a lingering look at the barn, Arlen let a smile turn his thin lips and then he turned and walked to the house.

~/~/~( )~~~

At that same moment, Kevin pulled back on the reins, Blaze snorting in response as he slid to a stop. The fine black animal danced and tossed its head as Kevin narrowed his eyes at the sight before him.

He dismounted as Howie and AJ slid to a stop beside him, his gaze not veering from what remained of Branson’s campsite. He walked toward the charred remains of the fire, stopping and crouching low to touch the black embers. He grimaced. They were cold.

“Hey, Kev?” called AJ tentatively, “Ya might wanna check this out.”

A pensive expression now on his face, Kevin stood and walked over to where Howie and AJ crouched, their eyes on the ground before them. His dark form loomed over them and AJ looked up. Kevin’s eyes were steady as he asked, “What?”

AJ looked back at the ground and reached out to touch a dark patch of the tan dirt. He pinched some of the discolored soil in his fingers and brought his hand before him. He stared at his hand and rubbed his fingers together, the tips turning a rusty red from the tainted dirt. AJ turned calm eyes upon Kevin’s dark presence, “Blood.”

Kevin’s stony stature seemed to darken even more at the single word, causing AJ to continue his narrative, his brown eyes back on the ground, “Can’t say fer sure it’s one of our boys, but seems ta me someone landed on the ground hard right here and another came toward him and kneeled beside him.” AJ shook his head slightly, “It don’t make sense that one of the outlaws would fall an’ have someone come stay beside him, let alone that the one that fell was bleedin’. It had to be Nick and Brian.” AJ shook his head, a frown on his face.

Howie knew the look and prodded the tracker, “What? AJ, you know what went on?”

AJ sighed and fell back on his rear, resting his arms on his knees and wearily pointing at the ground, “That there is horse tracks. Journey’s from what I can tell. That horse has an odd shaped left hind hoof, I’d spot it anywhere.” AJ pointed to another spot, where the dirt was unsettled quite a bit, “Right there ya got a bunch of boot prints, then the imprint of a body hittin’ the ground. The boot prints then walk toward the fire. These here boot prints,” AJ continued, pointing to yet another area of the disturbed dirt, “are Brian’s. None o’ them outlaws have fancy boots like that gambler, and he came from over yonder where there are more horse tracks and boot marks.”

Howie stared at AJ, “Which means...”

AJ took his hat off of his head and rubbed a hand through his unruly dark hair before replacing the headgear briskly, “I’d say they stopped to make camp last night and they yanked Nick off of Journey so that he fell to the ground an’ then left ‘im. Brian came over and helped him and stayed beside ‘im all night. They were a ways from the fire. Pro’bly had a cold night.” AJ looked up, “Nick’s the one bleedin’.”

Howie cursed softly, “He musta tore that flesh wound. Can’t see any other reason for it, that is if’n they didn’t hurt ‘im.”

Kevin visibly winced as he remembered Nick’s scream at Pike’s Peak. He shivered. Kevin’s eyes then grew dark, the green changing to a deep obsidian that shined in the setting sun’s orange glow. Pressing his lips together into a thin line, Kevin clenched his fist. He would savor his inevitable encounter with Branson.

AJ looked toward the setting sun in the distance and then up at Kevin’s silent form, “What now, Kev?”

For a few seconds, Kevin was silent, then he answered in a low voice, “We ride, through the night if we have to. We’ll figure out a plan once we find ‘em and know the situation.”

A breath later found them back astride and riding after the outlaws once more, their motions carrying a greater sense of urgency after the knowledge they had gained. Each of them had wanted to find their two friends safe and unharmed, though now they knew that atleast one suffered. Plus, in the back of all their minds burned a question they dreaded.

What if we’re too late?

~/~/~( )~~~

Brian squinted his eyes as he was roughly shoved into the dank, dusty barn. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from retaliation as the man behind him harshly threw him to the ground, although he did feel slight thanks that it had been on his uninjured side.

With a scowl on his face, Brian pushed his exhausted frame up and then scooted back until he felt the hard wood of a support beam at his back. His blue gaze glared up at the men as they soon shoved Nick down beside him, a low grunt of pain emitting from the blond man’s lips as he hit the unyielding, hard packed dirt floor.

Nick forced himself to sit up beside Brian, his vibrant eyes now dull in the dim lighting of the setting sun that streaked through cracks and small square windows in the barn’s walls and ceiling, like beams of tangible texture in the dust filled air.

“All right,” growled the tall blond, lanky outlaw, “Git yer backs against that beam real close, so’s we can tie ya to it.”

Grudgingly, Brian and Nick shuffled as close as they could to the beam at their backs, their glaring eyes never leaving the five men before them. The lanky man spoke again, addressing the heavy set, bearded man beside him, “Les, give Mac the rope. He can tie these bastards up, I don’t rightly think I could stop myself from hurtin’ the gambler, an’ the big boss man don’t want him hurt.” He sneered down at Brian, “Yet.”

Les laughed, sending a taunting glance at Brian, “Yeah, Kyle. I don’t know if I coulda stopped myself either... Say, ya think the boss’ll let us be the ones to knock ‘im around if’n he wants him hurt?” Les massaged the knuckles of his right hand, his dark eyes now glaring at Brian, “We need some pay back for that shit he pulled on us at that saloon back in Cripple Creek.”

Kyle grinned, thoughtfully massaging his chin with his fingers, “Hmm... That’d be right nice of Mr. Morgan, wouldn’t it? We bes’ put in the word that we’d be happy to oblige ‘im if’n he needs some fists to pound the gambler.” Shaking himself back to the task at hand, Kyle looked searchingly behind him at the three other men, “Mac! Damn it, get on over here and tie these guys up!”

Meekly, Mac came from the back of the room and took the rope from Les, never raising his eyes as he approached Nick and Brian. He kneeled behind them and cautiously glanced up at Kyle and Les, relieved to see them now laughing with the other men and not paying him much attention. Carefully, Mac took hold of Nick’s hands and began to tie them together behind the blond’s back. As he finished and reached for Brian’s hands, he whispered out in an almost inaudible voice, “I want you to know that I’m sorry this happened to you and that I don’t like it... ‘least, not anymore. Branson’s crazy and so are the rest of those guys. I never really wanted to be an outlaw, Branson jus’ kinda picked me up when my folks were killed a while back.”

Mac paused, having finished tying Brian’s hands. Slowly, he took what was left of the rope and looped it through their bound arms and around the wooden beam. He spoke again, very low, as he attached them to the beam, “I’ll try to help you escape, but I don’t really know what that Morgan fellow wants with you, Carter, so I can’t do anything right yet until I do. Yer friends should be headin’ here pretty quick, too. I left a bit of a trail for ‘em to follow.”

Mac tied off the rope and sat back on his heels, “I’ll be back,” he whispered, “Soon as I can help you out.” Mac then stood and walked back to the other outlaws, “All right, they’re tied.”

“Good,” sneered Kyle, then turned back to the other men, “C’mon, bet Branson and that Mr. Morgan are just waitin’ on us to join them in a little celebration! I don’t know about you fellers, but I could go for some drinks after that ride!”

The men voiced their agreement and they all left the dank, dusty barn, Mac leaving last and sending Nick and Brian one last look before disappearing out the large wooden door.

Nick let his head fall back against the wood beam as the door slammed shut, eyes closed. His head was beginning to ache persistently and he felt hot, his side beginning to feel numb. He sighed and spoke to Brian seated at his right side, “We jus’ might get out of this yet, Brian.”

Brian shifted his seat and nodded thoughtfully, unaware of Nick’s discomfort, “If what that Mac said is true, then yes. And, need I remind you, I still have my derringer.” Brian sighed, a smirk on his face, “I can’t tell you how many times that two shot gun has saved my life, I am quite fond of the little device.”

Nick lifted his head with a dry chuckle, turning to look at the man beside him with tired eyes, “I bet you are. It’s nice to know we got at least two bullets to throw at ‘em.”

Brian stared down at his legs stretched out before him, his voice low, “Yes, but there isn’t much I can accomplish while the arm affixed to the contraption is soundly secured by these most disadvantageous rope bindings.” Brian flexed his fingers and wrists as an example, grimacing as the rough twine rope chafed his sensitive skin.

Nick shook his head in defeat, again resting his head back on the beam, eyes gazing lazily at the ceiling far above, “Christ, Bri’. Ya know, you were actually understandable for this time I’ve been with you. Now, ya’ve gone back to all those fancy words. Can’t ya give it a rest? I don’t feel much like spendin’ time on figurin’ what the hell yer sayin’.”

Brian let out a small puff of air, a pleasant smile turning his lips, “I... erm, that is... Well, I guess I’m a little nervous at the moment. I mean, we are now at the footstep of our tormentor. I’m afraid I’m a little worried as to what he has in store for us.”

Nick jerked his head from its reclined position, wincing only slightly while fixing Brian with a moot question in his blue eyes, “Us? Don’t you mean me, Brian? I’m the one he wants.”

Brian sighed, “Yes, and I’m just the pawn in Branson’s corner to hold over Kevin’s head.” Brian scoffed, his eyes dark, “As if he would care one way or another.”

Nick let his lips part in confusion, his brow furrowing, “What? You think Kevin don’t care about you?”

Brian faced Nick with a wry, knowing expression, “Please, Nick. It’s not exactly a secret. Kevin doesn’t trust or like me. Hasn’t from the start.”

Nick stared at Brian for a moment, then looked away and shook his head, “Ya know, for a gambler and con man, you sure are blind as a bat’s rear end.”

Brian actually laughed, “Huh, haven’t heard that one before.”

Nick stared at Brian, “Brian, Kevin holds you to a different standard than the rest of us, I’m sure. Hell, when he figured out it was you Branson was gonna take care of in Cripple Creek...” Nick slowly shook his head, “He lit outta that barn quicker than a horse’s tail swats a fly.”

Brian looked thoughtful, then shrugged it off and bluntly changed the subject, “So, do you have an idea as to what your father wants with you yet?”

Nick’s face darkened in hate within a blink of an eye, causing Brian to blink in an effort to confirm the abrupt change. When Nick spoke, his voice betrayed the fury he held within, “He AIN’T my father.”

Brian’s face was overcome by blatant confusion, “Huh? But... but you said... an- and he said... ... ...huh?”

Nick’s expression was stoney, “He ain’t my father, he’s my STEP-father. I have no blood in my veins from that snake, and I thank the Lord above everyday for that small blessin’.”

Understanding cleared Brian’s eyes, “Ah, I see, but you haven’t answered my question. Do you know why he wants you?”

Nick shook his head, his dark countenance easing slightly, “No, I had a feelin’ all along that it was him, but I couldn’t figure a reason for him to want me that bad.” Resentment narrowed Nick’s eyes, “He never wanted me around before, he made that clear... painfully clear.”

Brian winced as what Nick implied hit him, his blue eyes dimming in sympathy. He knew not to say anything about it though, as Nick would immediately become rather defensive and surely. Brian was in no mood for that, so he danced around the subject, knowing his next words would effect Nick with an opposite emotion to his hate, “Perhaps it has something to do with your mother.”

Sadness immediately clouded Nick’s eyes as he turned away, his voice quiet, “I hope it doesn’t, she had enough grief while she was alive. She doesn’t need anything to haunt her beyond the grave, I just want her to rest in peace.” Nick closed his eyes and ducked his head, “I know I broke her heart when I left, but I just couldn’t stay there any longer.”

Brian frowned at Nick’s reactions to his questions, feeling somewhat responsible for churning the blond’s stressed emotions, “I’m just trying to figure out what has brought us here, Nick. You understand that, don’t you? I don’t mean to bring up your past like this, but I need to understand what is going on before we can even begin carrying out our escape.” Brian leaned forward and tried to gaze into Nick’s downcast face, “You understand, don’t you Nick?”

Nick inhaled deeply, his breath catching in his throat as his side seemed to wake from its numb state by sending a pain shooting through the tender area. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, working hard to conceal his pain from Brian and continue his appearance of normalcy even as his head’s dull ache began to escalate into a pounding throb. He blinked his eyes open and stared down at his lap, trying to get his vision to focus. Slowly, he released his held breath and made an effort to compose himself and answer Brian’s question, not looking up, “I understand, Brian, an-... and I’m sorry.”

Brian frowned, his expression caused by both Nick’s apology and the weakness he could hear in the rebel’s voice, “Sorry? For what? You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Brian,” Nick breathed, slowly raising his head to gaze wearily into Brian’s face, “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here right now. None of this woulda happened, it’s all my fault. Any way you look at it, it’s my fault we’re in this mess.”

Brian studied Nick, noticing how pale the rebel looked all of a sudden. He could tell Nick was not well, “Nick, it’s not your fault that some madman has decided to take it up with you, step-father or not. It’s not your fault. Nick,” Brian searched Nick’s face in concern, “Are you all right? You look horrible.”

“I’m fine,” Nick answered shortly, turning away, “Just got a bit of a headache.”

Brian scowled, knowing Nick was not telling the whole truth. He watched as Nick leaned his head back against the beam, the weariness clearly broadcasted in the sluggish movements, “Nick?” Brian leaned closer to Nick, their bodies touching at the shoulders and causing Brian to frown in greater worry. He could feel the heat of Nick’s now obvious fever through his clothes, “Nick? Come on, Nicky, answer me.”

Nick rolled his head on the beam to face Brian, his eyes hooded and face showing the slightest anger, “Do NOT call me Nicky, and I’m fine.”

Nick’s words were low and mumbled, Brian watching as the hooded eyes slid closed and the pale face went slack in either sleep or unconsciousness. Brian sighed and leaned heavily back against the beam, his eyes watching as the beams of light that shone into the dusky barn diminished as the sun ducked below the horizon and night took hold of the country side.

Brian closed his eyes and tried to find a position comfortable enough to allow him some respite to sleep. He opened his eyes to look at Nick’s motionless face, the moonlight streaking into the dark barn reflecting off the fine sheen of sweat that covered the blond’s face, the pale light causing Nick’s color to appear gray.

Brian closed his eyes with a sigh, whispering, “I believe our escape has just become a little more complicated, Nicky.”

~/~/~( )~~~

Arlen sat in the stiff chair with a glass of whiskey in his hand, his dark eyes sneering at the rowdy men carousing before him, drinking and laughing in the living room he resided in. He shook his head and sipped at his drink, glancing up as Frederick stepped up beside him. He rotated the half full glass in his hands as he asked, “What can I do for you, Frederick?”

The old man frowned, “Masters Aaron and Angel are in their room, sir. I was wondering if I may be able to feed them, and then if I may procure some food for your... guests in the barn.”

Arlen frowned, “You may feed the twins, but I don’t know about the others.”

Frederick worried his bottom lip as he thought quickly, “They need nourishment if you are to have them in any condition to do what you ask. Nickolas did not look too good to me, and I was under the impression that you wanted him alive. He will not stay that way without proper care.”

With a short sigh, Arlen nodded his head, “Fine, feed them, but nothing else... And keep them two brats quiet and in that room. Understood? I can’t stand the sight of them.”

Frederick had to steel his anger as he nodded shortly as he turned to leave, “Yes, sir.”

Frederick felt dreadful at what had become of his family, granted it had never been very pleasant since Miss Carter had married Mr. Morgan. The man was all about himself and money, that was all that mattered. Frederick quickly presented the twins with their food and left them alone, he just couldn’t bare their solemn and dejected young faces.

As he headed out the door into the cool night with two plates of food, one outlaw accompanying him by order of Arlen, Frederick smiled slightly as his thoughts drifted to Nickolas. The boy surely had grown up. He remembered sadly all the times he had had to comfort and patch up the boy when Mr. Morgan had beaten him. Frederick had always harbored fatherly feelings for the boy, having practically raised him, and when he said he was leaving, it was he that had helped him escape. He felt he had owed the boy at least that much.

Sighing, Frederick allowed the outlaw to open the barn door and then walked into the dim barn. He frowned deeply as he saw the two forms on the floor of the cool barn. He quickly went to them and set the plates aside as he kneeled his old body before them. He put a hand on one of each of their shoulders and shook them, trying to rouse them. The gambler awoke with a gasp, pulling away from his grip and staring at the old man with wide blue eyes, a wince of pain pulling his features.

Frederick’s brow furrowed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were injured.”

Brian just looked at him in suspicion, “I am perfectly fine. What do you want?”

Frederick gestured to the plates, “I brought you some food.” His weathered face switched to Nick, his hand moving to the blond’s face, “Nickolas... Nickolas, wake up.”

With a soft moan, Nick turned his head, his brow furrowing as he tried to wake. Then, his eyes split open and he stared at the elderly man before him with surprise, then disappointment, “Frederick... Why?”

“I’m sorry, Nickolas. I have no choice. He has threatened the lives of Aaron and Angel if I don’t do as he says.” Frederick ducked his head slightly, “I truly am sorry, Nickolas. You must know that.”

Rather reluctantly, Nick nodded. He sighed, his head was killing him and the pain in his side just seemed to go on forever. He stared at Frederick in frustration, “What does he want, Frederick? What the hell does he want from me?”

Brian looked at Frederick and listened intently, he wanted the answer just as bad as Nick. Frederick sighed, “I think it may be best if you hear it from him, Nickolas. He’ll be here tomorrow morning to discuss it with you.”

Frederick turned to the outlaw, “Please, untie them so they can eat.”

The man nodded and untied the two, who rubbed their sore wrists in an effort to return the feeling in their hands. Brian caught Nick’s eye while flexing his right arm. Nick looked to Frederick and back sharply, barely shaking his head. Brian lowered his eyes, Nick didn’t want Frederick to get hurt by what could happen if Brian pulled the derringer now.

Resolutely, Brian reached for his plate and began to eat. God, he was hungry. He didn’t realize how much until that moment. The outlaw moved to lean against the door and watched, a rifle resting in his arms. Nick mostly picked at and ate little of the food, his stomach turning at the prospect of eating more than a small amount. What he was, was thirsty.

Nick looked up at Frederick, “Water?”

Frederick nodded and reached for the canteen he had over his shoulder, uncorking it before handing it to Nick, who readily took a hardy swallow. Nick passed it to Brian when he was finished and the gambler drank his fill, now finished with his meal.

Frederick collected the plates, not missing the amount of food Nick had left. He studied the young man he considered a son and frowned, he had felt Nick’s fever when he had touched his face. God, how he hoped Mr. Morgan would leave Nick alone when he got what he wanted. As he stood, he watched as the outlaw once again tied the two up and he looked long and hard at Nick and Brian, his voice coming out soft, “You’ll get through this, I know you will.”

With that said, Frederick walked to and out the door. The outlaw glanced at the two and said blandly, “I’m gonna be right outside this door, so don’t even think of tryin’ anything.” Then he, too, left the barn.

As Frederick walked back to the house, he had a feeling of being watched and stopped. His pale green eyes scanned the crest of the hill in the distance, the night not affording him much distinction. After a second longer, he shook his head and continued on into the house.

~/~/~( )~~~

Kevin sighed from where he laid on his stomach on the grassy hill, watching as the old man continued on to the house, his eyes then glancing back to the barn where a lone outlaw stood armed. He looked to his side at AJ and Howie, who laid on the ground to his left, nodding his head back in an indication to move away from the edge of the grassy hill.

As they crawled away from sight and toward the copse of trees where their horses were tethered, Kevin heard distant loud talking and paused. He looked back down over the hill’s edge and swore softly, watching as Branson and his other four men settled on the porch of the house, two of which going to join the lone man at the barn door. Damn it, that changes everything.

He shook his head and crawled back to where AJ and Howie now stood beside the horses. With a frown, he stood and then crossed his arms, “We can’t do anything tonight. That lone guard just turned into three and Branson and his two other men are on the porch. We’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow an’ see what we can do then.”

AJ nodded, “Ya think the barn’s where they’re keepin’ ‘em?”

“Yeah,” nodded Kevin, uncrossing his arms, “No other reason for ‘em to guard it like that.”

Howie pushed his hat up, “Then our main concern is ta get to the barn. We’ll get Nick and Brian out, then we can worry ‘bout them outlaws.”

Kevin rubbed his chin in thought, “I figure they’ll not have as many guards in daylight. They’re bound ta be more nervous at night when they can’t see nothin’.” Kevin turned toward the small farm, noticing another copse of trees a couple hundred feet from the left front of the barn, “Let’s see if we can get on over to them trees, that way we’d be closer come daylight. We’ll have a heck of a time if’n we try at daylight, it’s too much of a clearing between here an’ there.”

Leading the horses, they walked away from the edge of the hill and then around toward where the trees stood. The hill sloped down as they approached them and they slowed their pace as they neared the barn, knowing they were slightly visible to the guards. Finally, they reached the concealing depths of the trees and worked their way deeply into them to get some distance from the barn.

They tethered the horses and took their saddles from their backs, Kevin setting his on the ground end up so he could lean his back against it as he sat down. Silently, they all bedded down and pulled their blankets from their saddle bags to ward off the chill of the night. There would be no fire tonight, not it they wanted to keep their presence hidden.

Silence encompassed their group, the only sounds being the distant occasional laughing of the outlaws. The three men each feigned sleep, each lying awake and staring up at the night sky waiting for the sun to makes its appearance.

Kevin let his own kind of fire warm him that night, letting it burn bright green in his eyes. He could feel the anticipation of finally putting his haunting demons to rest surging through his veins. Tomorrow would be his day of reckoning. As he narrowed his eyes in hate, Kevin let his mouth turn in a vile grin that would have sent most men running. Branson won’t live to see his next night.