Betrayals

The California sun beat mercilessly and both men had long since shed their vests and shirts. Reaching down, Nick grabbed Jarrod’s arm, helping him out of the hole. Jarrod leaned on the handle of his shovel and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, leaving behind a streak of dirt and then gratefully took the canteen handed to him.

“Thanks, Nick.” Jarrod tilted his head for a long drink before ducking and pouring some of the cool water over his head, stray droplets trickling down his sweaty chest as he slicked back his wet hair. He passed the canteen back to Nick, who did the same. “I think we’re done. We should head back to let Hannah know and see if Heath’s returned.”

“Can’t argue with that, big brother,” Nick agreed and the two men gathered up their discarded clothing, leaving the shovels for the sad task of filling the hole back in. Nick took a glance back at the grave, the freshly turned dirt a scar on the unkempt landscape of Strawberry’s churchyard. A chill went up his spine and he hoped Heath would allow them to help him through the pain of his mama’s death. Not that anyone would blame him if he didn’t, Nick thought grimly. We sure haven’t given him much reason to think kindly on us.

As they approached the faded green cabin, they heard a distraught voice. “You can’t do that, you just can’t be doin’ that.” Nick and Jarrod picked up the pace and reached the porch just as Hannah came out the door, wringing her hands in her apron.

“Oh, Mistah Barkley!” the distressed woman cried when she spotted them. “They can’t be doin’ that!”

“Who can’t do what, Hannah?” Jarrod asked in a calm tone.

“That man and his wife. They just can’t be goin’ through Miss Leah’s things like that.”

“Who’s going through her things?” Jarrod persisted.

“Miss Leah’s brother Matt and that woman.” Hannah grabbed onto Jarrod’s arm. “Please make them leave her be!”

A tortured plea came back to Nick as he saw the slight, gray-haired man come out of the cabin.

“Don’t touch me, don’t… please… don’t… No, Uncle Matt, I’ll be good, I promise, just don’t touch me like that…”

The man extended his hand, an ingratiating smile on his face. “You must be the Barkleys. I’m Heath’s uncle, Matt---“ He didn’t get a chance to finish, his words cut off by Nick’s growl as the rancher launched himself at the other man.

“You sorry excuse for a human being!” Nick snarled as his fist collided with Matt Simmons’ face. “You think you can call yourself a man, putting your filthy hands on a little boy like that!?” He struck another solid blow, blood spurting from Simmons’ nose. “You’re not even half a man!” Nick grabbed the gaunt neck and started banging Simmons’ head against the boards of the porch.

“What on earth are you doing!?” a woman’s voice screeched, but Nick paid it no heed, intent on beating the life out of his newly-discovered brother’s tormentor.

“Nick, let go! Stop!” Nick bucked out of Jarrod’s grip, retaining his hold on his prey as Jarrod tried again to pull him off. “Nick!”

Simmons’ face was slowly turning blue, a contrast to the scarlet blood trickling down his face and staining the wood beneath his head as it continued to be rammed against the boards.

“Stop it, Nick.” The soft drawl cut through Nick’s fury and he loosened his grip, looking up into a pair of sky-blue eyes. “He’s not worth it.”

Still looking at Heath, Nick slowly let go, Simmons’ hands coming up to clutch at his throat as he gasped for air. A woman with straw-like hair knelt down beside him. “Matt, what has he done to you?” She turned hate-filled eyes toward Nick. “You!” she spat. “You tried to kill my husband!”

“Killing’s too good for the likes of him,” Nick growled, trying to rein in his anger, continuing to look toward Heath.

The blond just stood there expressionlessly and his voice was dispassionate as he said, “Reckon you should get out and stay away, Uncle Matt, Aunt Martha. I ain’t my brother’s keeper and can’t tell what he might have a notion to do.”

With Martha’s help, Simmons struggled to a sitting position. “Now listen here, boy, your aunt and I, we took care of you and your mama and we deserve…”

“You’re lucky we don’t let Nick finish giving you what you deserve.” Jarrod’s blue gaze was cold and unyielding. “Now, I suggest you listen to my brother and stay away.”

Martha opened her mouth to protest, but shut it quickly as she took in the implacable expressions of the men surrounding them. She helped her husband to stand and supported him as they slowly left the yard, muttering, “Of all the ungrateful…”

Heath watched them make their way down the street before he finally moved. “Reckon I should go find a spot for Mama,” he stated softly and was stopped by Nick’s hand on his arm.

“Already done that, Heath,” Nick assured the younger man who had become part of his soul. “Jarrod and I found a place under that big old tree in the churchyard. It’s just waiting on you to say if it’s good enough.”

The look on Heath’s face went from surprise, to doubt, then softened into gratitude. “You didn’t have to,” he protested.

“It’s what family does, Heath,” Jarrod told him quietly. “You and your mama deserved so much more from us. I know it’s too little, too late, but we had to do something.”

Nick reached out and squeezed Heath’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “Reckon we can find us some wood, make your mama a real fine casket. What do you say?”

Heath’s blue eyes filled with uncertainty, then he reluctantly agreed. “Okay, Nick, if you want.” He looked over to Hannah. “Aunt Hannah…”

Hannah beamed at him. “Don’t you worry none, Heath, I make sure your mama, she all dressed right pretty.” She went back into the house and Nick followed Heath around to the back of the house.

They worked on the coffin in silence. Nick wanted to say something, anything, but Heath surrounded himself with what felt like an impenetrable wall, working with them but not really as a part of them. He started to offer words of reassurance, words of brotherhood more than once, but stopped at the last minute, no sure if he could stand it if his overtures were rejected.

So they continued on, standing back as Heath reverently carried the body of his mother out of the cabin and laid it gently in the wooden casket. Not asking, Nick and Jarrod each took a corner, hoisting the negligible weight of a woman not their mother, but a woman who had given birth to their brother just the same. Heath didn’t protest, he just led the way along with Hannah to the grave his brothers had dug not long before.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nick noticed Matt and Martha Simmons watching from the shadows of the hotel. They’d better not cross my path again, he thought grimly, or there’ll be hell to pay. But he reckoned Simmons was too much of a coward to confront them again. He made a mental note to talk to Jarrod and make sure that Hannah wasn’t going to be left alone in this deserted town at the mercy of Heath’s craven relatives.

Before he knew it, they were at the churchyard and he and Jarrod gently set the coffin beside the freshly dug grave.

Heath turned to the elderly black woman beside him. “Aunt Hannah, you know best what she’d like to have said over her. Please?”

Hannah nodded and closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, their soft brown shining clearly as she recited, 1“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; you are Mine.
 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you. 
 For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One, your Saviour…” She closed her eyes again and her hand sought Heath’s, holding it tightly.

Nick saw Jarrod’s head was bowed, his hands clasped tightly together and was reminded of a bright spring day three years before when they consecrated their father’s body to the ground. He reached out and gripped his brother’s arm tightly as Heath started to speak.

2“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
 He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters.
 He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over.
 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

“Amen,” Nick murmured along with the others. He and Jarrod carefully tied the length of rope they brought with them around the coffin and slowly lowered it into the grave. Nick watched as Heath fell to his knees, his heart breaking.

“I know you’re in a better place, Mama,” Heath whispered, tears rolling unashamedly down his cheeks. “I just wish that better place could still be here with me.” Nick stepped up with Jarrod, flanking him, and Nick hoped that their presence could be some sort of comfort to the distraught blond.

Hannah threw a handful of dirt onto the coffin. 3“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” she said softly and turned away, walking slowly back through town.

Nick and Jarrod stood in vigil beside their grieving brother until he finally stood and picked up one of the shovels, taking some of the dirt and tossing it into the grave. Nick made a move to pick up the other shovel, but stopped when he heard, “No. I gotta do this myself.” Staring into the determined blue eyes, Nick nodded and looked to Jarrod, who nodded as well.

“We’ll be back at the house when you’re done,” and left Heath to what he needed to do.


1Isaiah 43:1-3
2Psalms 23:1-6
3Book of Common Prayer