Tuned In
by Kellie
The story of Heath and the Grizzly.
In this story Jarrod is 33, Nick is 29 and Heath is 25, Leah and Tom are
deceased and Heath has lived with the Barkleys for one year.
"Heath, dear, I do hope you will be home in time for supper tonight. With Audra
in Denver, Jarrod in San Francisco and Nick on the cattle drive I miss your
presence at the table even more than ever."
Heath smiled at his mother. In the past year with his family he had learned how
much she hated the absence of her children, especially during meal times. All of
the hands had been needed on the drive, leaving Heath to perform all of the
ranch chores by himself, heck, even Silas was away visiting relatives. Heath
didn't really mind being left behind since the decision was made according to
Victoria's wishes. She had wanted to spend time alone with the young man she had
come to love as a son. In the past three weeks they had passed many an evening
in each other's company. Heath was always honored to awake in the morning, after
one of their late night discussions, on the divan in Victoria's room and find
her sitting quietly, watching and waiting for his eyes to open. Each time was
the same, she had somehow managed to remove his boots and belt without waking
him and he was warmly encased within a thick, heavy quilt. Heath had opened up
to this woman, confiding many things to her he had never told anyone else.
"I promise to be home and cleaned up by the time supper is ready."
"Wonderful. What are your plans for the day?"
"I still need to finish repairing part of the fence in the south pasture, I
should be done by noon. Afterwards I'll ride to the north ridge and check the
bear traps. Believe it or not that is all I need to do today." Victoria followed
him to the front door, planting a kiss on his cheek before he walked out.
After a quick bite for dinner Victoria headed into Stockton. Her first stop and
main priority was the telegraph office. She was pleased to discover wires from
all three of her traveling children. Audra was fine and enjoying her stay with
family friends. Jarrod's telegram stated he would be riding back with Nick and
the hands since his court case had ended earlier than expected. Nick's wire was
brief as usual, informing her he would arrive home on the 21st. In just one more
day all of her sons would be home and Audra would be home by the end of the
week. As Victoria visited the dress shop and picked up several items at the
general store her joy was replaced with a feeling of dread, the very feeling she
would get when one of her children became injured or ill. On the ride home she
decided she was being silly. The Collins' would have notified her if anything
had happened to Audra and Nick or Jarrod would have done the same if the other
had been hurt or fallen ill. She didn't consider Heath. He had been hurt several
times since coming to live with them and she had never before sensed his pain.
She assumed this feeling was reserved for biological children and began in the
womb. She would always regret how wrong she was in her assumption.
Heath awoke slowly, pain coursing through his head and right leg. Gradually he
recalled the events leading up to his current situation. The fence repair had
filled his entire morning. Afterwards he rode to the north ridge and, finding a
shady spot, stopped to eat the sandwich his mother had fixed for him. He
finished the sandwich and decided to check the bear traps on foot. It had been a
long ride to the ridge and he was tired of sitting in the saddle. He neared the
dense thicket of bushes where the last trap was located. Lost in his thoughts of
a warm bath and quiet evening with his mother, he silently approached the area.
It all happened suddenly, the large grizzly attacked so quickly his gun barely
cleared leather before the animal was on him. The gun flew from his hand on
impact, as he fell backward the bear sank its teeth into his right thigh. His
scream was cut short when the back of his head slammed into a rock, darkness had
enveloped him.
Heath silently cursed himself; he should have ridden Charger. The horse would
have detected the grizzly, forewarning him one was in the area. Failing to do
that, he should have made some noise. He knew better than to be quiet in an area
where bears were known to frequent. If he had been making noise, any noise, most
likely the bear would have been long gone before he got to it. Instead he placed
himself in an extremely dangerous situation: facing a startled and angry grizzly
bear.
Heath's right leg was on fire. His hand felt the damage and it was severe. His
outside thigh was missing a large chuck of flesh and another sizable portion of
flesh was torn away from the calf. He could also feel the puncture wounds left
by the teeth from his ankle to his hip. He was positive the ankle was broken.
Heath hefted himself into an upright position and, by doing so, made his second
mistake of the day. He had just enough time to realize he should have remained
still until he determined if the grizzly was still about before the bear was
once again viciously attacking him, ripping and tearing with teeth and claws.
Heath was able to curl into a tight ball on his left side, protecting his vital
organs by denying the bear access to his chest and belly. He used his right arm
and hand to protect his head and neck. He bit through his lip in a desperate
struggle not to scream aloud when the bear took several swipes at his backside,
attempting to slice his groin area. A trick used by bears to see if their prey
is still alive. Although the bear failed to reach Heath's groin, the attempt
left deep lacerations on the back of his thighs and buttocks. To Heath the
attack seemed to last a lifetime. Eventually unconsciousness overtook him.
Victoria was worried, really worried. It wasn't like Heath to break a promise.
It was now an hour past their usual suppertime and he still hadn't arrived home.
No longer able to just wait Victoria changed into her riding clothes. Before
leaving the house she wrote a note to Heath in case he returned while she was
out looking for him.
The memory of her earlier dismissal of feeling something was wrong with one of
her children haunted her as she headed out. She now knew with certainty Heath
was the child whose pain she had been sensing since early afternoon. She
intended to begin her search where Heath had started his day but found herself
heading directly for the north ridge instead. Something deep inside told her
that was where she would find him.
As she urged her horse into a gallop she prayed with all her might to be wrong.
Maybe Charger had pulled up lame or thrown a shoe and Heath was having to walk
the horse home. Her instincts told her this was just wishful thinking on her
part.
Heath awoke again to a world filled with unimaginable pain. As bad as the first
attack had been the second was even worse. After taking several moments to be
absolutely sure the bear was gone Heath attempted to sit up. Pain shot up his
right side and his right arm was useless. He finally managed to push himself up
with his left arm. He used his left hand to assess the additional damage. The
flesh on his right side was dangling in a flap and he could feel the exposed
ribcage. He could also feel several broken ribs. The right arm from shoulder to
fingers was a mangled mass of torn skin and broken bones. He had puncture wounds
where the bear had clamped down on his torso, penetrating the right side of his
lower belly and back and there was a large gaping laceration over his right
shoulder blade. He didn't need to feel of his buttocks and back of his thighs,
he already knew the damage they had sustained.
Heath knew he was in trouble. Even without the weakness from blood loss there
was no way he could walk with the injuries his right leg had suffered. He had a
decision to make. His shirt was in tatters and he believed he could remove it to
use for bleed control on his upper body. Most of the wounds on his leg were no
longer bleeding. To do this meant his upper body would be largely uncovered and
the evening air was briskly cool. Added to his current loss of blood and the
physical and emotional trauma of his ordeal, the cool night air could lead to
shock. He was surprised not to be in shock already. Heath chose to control the
bleeding and, if he became too cold, he could always drape the shirt over
himself later. After brushing away much of the dirt and leaves the bear had
thrown over him from his wounds he covered them as best as he could with the
shirt. Unable to continue sitting up any longer he laid back down. He fell
asleep while praying for his mother to find him.
As Victoria rode toward the ridge she detected movement under a grove of trees.
Upon moving closer she heard a horse blow and stamp a hoof. It was Charger but
Heath was nowhere in sight. She snubbed Charger's reins to her saddlehorn and
continued riding the ridge, calling out to her son.
"HEATH? WHERE ARE YOU? ANSWER ME, SON."
Heath jerked awake. He was shivering uncontrollably. Suddenly, from nearby, he
heard someone calling to him. Through a fog of pain and cold he recognized his
mother's voice. His first attempt to respond came out in a hoarse, chattering
whisper. He cleared his throat and managed to call out loud enough for her to
hear.
"Mother, I'm over here." Within seconds she was kneeling by his side.
"Oh, sweetheart, what happened?" His one word answer sent chills down her spine.
"Grizzly." In the darkness she was unable to view the full extent of his
injuries but she had come prepared. Quickly she retrieved her saddlebag and
blanket roll. She took the lantern out from where it was safely ensconced in the
blanket and using a match lit the wick. Victoria had never seen such gruesome
wounds in her life, and she had seen many types of injuries over the years. She
acted
quickly and calmly, pulling out clean bandages, a bottle of whiskey, a bar of
soap and several washcloths. She retrieved their canteens and Heath's blanket
roll and began preparing to clean the wounds. Heath watched her in wonder and
astonishment.
"How did you know?" Victoria paused briefly to meet his gaze.
"It's hard to explain but sometimes a mother just knows.....feels when her child
is in pain. I felt that for you so I brought these things just in case."
Victoria finished laying everything out and realized in her haste to begin the
search she had forgotten to include a pair of scissors.
"Heath, is your knife in your pants or your saddlebag?"
"Saddlebag, why?" Victoria was already at Charger's side, searching for the
knife. She returned to kneel by Heath. She smiled at him while brushing her hand
through his hair.
"You're not going to like this but it WILL happen just the same. I'm going to
cut your clothes off to treat your wounds." She watched him frown and shake his
head. "Heath, none of that. You know how much danger there is of infection if
animal bites aren't thoroughly cleaned and disinfected, DON'T YOU!" He
reluctantly nodded his head, understanding it had to be done.
It wasn't as convenient as a pair of scissors but luckily Heath kept his knife
sharp. In a matter of minutes Victoria had him completely stripped. Fighting the
fear his wounds caused her, she immediately set to work. Using damp washcloths
and the soap she scrubbed them clean then poured whiskey over them for
disinfectant. Heath was hard put to remain still as she treated his injuries.
His moans and occasional yelps brought tears to her eyes. She covered his wounds
with the bandages, knowing it was best not to tightly bind them because the risk
of infection would require them to be repeatedly cleaned and disinfected. The
next thing was to warm him up. She had helped him roll onto his left side in
order to treat the wounds on his backside and, when she finished, he started to
roll back over.
"Sweetheart, just stay on your side for a moment longer." Heath obeyed without
question and
Victoria placed his blanket under him.
"Okay, now roll onto your back." She folded each side over him and placed her
blanket on top, tucking the sides underneath his body.
"I will have to repeat this process every few hours but for now just rest,
Heath." He closed his eyes and fell asleep while his mother gently massaged his
belly. Soon as his slow, even breathing indicated he was sound asleep Victoria
gathered wood and made a campfire on each side of them. Satisfied with the
warmth the two fires provided she snuggled next to her son for a couple of
hour's rest before starting all over again.
As the night wore on Heath's condition worsened. When awake his breathing was
shallow to
accommodate for the searing pain of his broken ribs but when asleep his
breathing would become labored. He barely roused half the time when she would
retreat his injuries. Inevitably he began running a fever which she fought with
cool cloths placed on his forehead and neck, under his armpits and on either
side of his groin. In the early morning hours she was awakened by the feel of
his belly heaving under her hand and had just enough time to roll him onto his
left side before he vomited.
"I'm feeling kinda poorly, Mama." Since he said mama and not mother, Victoria
thought he was delirious and believed she was Leah until his next statement told
her he was very aware of whom she was.
"Oh Mama, I'll let you explain this one to Nick. I can just hear him now,
fussing about how I always wind up hurt." This tease made her laugh as she
watched him offer her a weak smile.
"Don't worry, Mama. No matter what happens, everything will be all right."
Victoria fought back her
tears and lovingly caressed his cheek.
"Of course everything will be all right, dear, especially you. Leah doesn't want
you with her in Heaven just yet and I certainly don't want you to leave me now.
You don't want to incur the wrath of both your mamas, do you? So you just fight
to stay with me, you hear?"
"Yes, Mama. I'll try, I promise I'll try." Victoria wasn't sure if it was the
pain or the fever or some similarity between how she and Leah handled a crisis
that was causing him to call her mama but the word fell on her ears like a
beautiful piece of music and warmed her heart. Once again Victoria uncovered her
son's battered body and began tending to his wounds. When finished she sent
another prayer heavenward and uttered a solemn vow to Leah and Tom.
"I swear upon my life to do everything within my power to keep this precious boy
of ours alive, for he belongs to all three of us now."
Jarrod and Nick arrived home in the early afternoon to find an empty house,
which did nothing to ease the tension they had both been experiencing all day.
They had chosen to push ahead of the hands, foregoing the regular rest stops the
others took. They both felt an overwhelming but unexplainable sense of urgency
that they were needed at home. Nick's frustration exploded.
"NOW WHERE IN THE DEVIL ARE MOTHER AND HEATH? I SENT THEM A WIRE SAYING WE WOULD
BE HOME TODAY."
"I don't know, Nick. I am surprised Mother isn't here to greet us, though."
"Well, I'll check upstairs. Maybe Mother is taking a nap." Nick halted at the
foot of the stairs; the tension in Jarrod's voice made his hairs stand on end.
"Hold up, Nick. Here's a note from Mother to Heath. It says if he returns while
she is gone to stay put. She apparently was leaving to search for him, starting
in the south pasture and, if she didn't find him there, she would ride on to the
north ridge."
"When?"
"It's dated last night shortly before seven." Nick was already running for the
door.
"LET'S GO." Jarrod was right on Nick's heels. As he started to mount his horse
he changed his mind.
"Nick, help me hitch a team to the wagon. If Heath has been hurt he may not be
able to ride."
"Good idea. Let's hurry." Before pulling out Nick tossed several blankets and a
pillow into the back of the wagon. Jarrod started to take the road leading to
the south pasture.
"No, Jarrod. If something has happened to Heath it would have occurred on the
ridge. I'm sure of it."
Jarrod hesitated only briefly before nodding his head and turning the team in
the direction of the north ridge.
As the morning stretched into the afternoon Victoria's apprehension grew. She
was positive Jarrod and Nick would find her note and come looking for them but
it could be dark before they even arrived at the ranch. She knew Heath might not
survive another night exposed to the elements.
She believed between the two of them Heath could get in the back of a wagon but
there was no way he could mount Charger let alone ride him, even with her
assistance. The problem was she didn't dare leave him alone to ride to the ranch
for a wagon. By this point Heath was frequently unconscious and so weak when
awake he would be unable to use the rifle to defend himself if the bear
returned. All Victoria could do was pray the boys would find them soon.
Victoria was exhausted. She had just completed disinfecting the wounds and
replacing cool
washcloths on his body to keep the fever down. Heath was unconscious and she had
been forced to manhandle him to turn his body. She rested her head over his
heart and fell asleep.
Victoria bolted upright, confused by the terror in her heart. She fearfully
examined her son,
breathing a sigh of relief to see he was still alive. Now what had....THE
HORSES! They were milling nervously, pawing the ground and snorting. Suddenly
they began to rear in panic. Victoria grabbed the rifle and surveyed the
surrounding area. Heath stirred and struggled to sit up. Victoria placed a hand
on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him down.
"Lie still, sweetheart." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she continued
to scan their
surroundings. Her heart leaped into her throat when the bear charged into the
open with a roar of rage. It was too close; she would only get one chance. She
took careful aim and slowly squeezed the trigger.
Jarrod and Nick approached the ridge. Nick cupped his hands around his mouth to
call out to his mother and brother but the sound of panicked horses stopped him
cold. He and Jarrod glanced at each other seconds before hearing a roar followed
by a single rifle shot.
"MY GOD, THAT'S A BEAR. HURRY, JARROD." The screaming of frightened horses was
deafening. They were near and Jarrod whipped the team into a run. Nick had his
rifle ready; praying the aim of whoever took the shot had been true.
The scene that greeted them was horrific. Their brother was lying barely
conscious on the ground, obviously gravely injured. Their mother was trying to
calm the two frightened horses and a large grizzly bear was lying dead just four
feet from their brother, a well-placed bullet hole between it's eyes.
Nick ran over to assist his mother. Once the horses were calmed down they joined
Jarrod by Heath's side. Victoria related the grizzly's attack on their brother
and showed them his wounds. Heath gripped each of their hands in turn with a
strength that gave them hope he would survive his injuries.
Both of his older brothers had to steel themselves against Heath's agonized
screams as they lifted and carried him to the wagon. They gently laid him on the
bed of blankets Victoria had prepared and helped her cover him with several
more. Victoria lifted his head, placed the pillow underneath and eased his head
onto it. She settled next to his left side, ready to continue her battle against
his fever and offer him the comfort of her presence and soothing voice on the
trip home. Nick tied his mother's horse to the back of the wagon and swung onto
Charger's back. He glanced at Heath and Victoria then gazed intensely into
Jarrod's eyes.
"I'll ride for the doctor and meet you at the house. Take good care of our baby
brother, Jarrod. Get him home alive."
"I'll do my best, Nick."
"Suppose that's all I can ask for." Nick nodded his head to Jarrod, took another
glance at Heath and, digging his heels into Charger's sides, headed off at a
gallop.
Jarrod climbed into the wagon, picked up the reins and began the journey home.
The trip was
extremely arduous, no matter how slow he went Heath would still scream in pain
at the slightest bump. Emotionally Jarrod was a wreck as he listened to his
brother's anguished cries and his mother's voice cooing softly. Jarrod hunched
his shoulders and squeezed his eyes shut as Heath repeatedly cried out to their
mother while writhing and thrashing in pain.
"MAMA...MAMA...MAMA...MAMA." Over and over again between moans of pain Heath
called out to Victoria.
Jarrod had originally thought it would be easier staying with Heath than riding
for the doctor, not knowing how his brother was faring. He now knew how wrong he
had been; it would have been much more preferable not being witness to his
youngest brother's terrible suffering.
Due to their slow progress to accommodate for Heath's condition, Nick was
already pacing
impatiently by the front door when the wagon pulled up to the house. He allowed
himself a fleeting smile upon hearing Heath's moans; at least the boy was still
alive. One look at Jarrod's pale, drawn face was all he needed to understand how
emotionally exacting the trip had been. Once again their ears were filled with
Heath's screams as they carried him into the house. Victoria swept past them and
rushed up the stairs to the bathroom. They followed her with Dr. Merar close
behind. Victoria already had the tub filling up and they placed Heath in the
cool water. Between the four of them Heath's wounds were thoroughly cleaned and
his entire body bathed in record time. The tub was drained and they carefully
dried him off.
Victoria had the covers on Heath's bed turned down by the time Jarrod and Nick
entered cradling his body. They laid him on his left side and Dr. Merar began
his examination with Victoria's assistance. Nick positioned himself at Heath's
head, maintaining eye contact and a constant stream of one-sided conversation.
Jarrod kneeled next to Nick and tightly held Heath's left hand in both of his.
Dr. Merar probed and closely examined each wound, impressed with how well
Victoria had managed to tend them given the circumstances.
"Victoria, I'm amazed with the care you were able to give these wounds. So far I
see no indication of infection anywhere. I'm going to wait until late tomorrow
afternoon before closing them. That will be 48 hours after the attack and, if
there are still no signs of infection, it will be safe to stitch him up. Right
now I'm going to set that ankle and the bones in his arm." Heath silently
suffered through the setting of his broken bones and, with the aid of laudanum,
fell into a deep sleep. Jarrod showed Dr. Merar to a guestroom and quickly
returned to his brother's room. The family remained by Heath's side throughout
the night.
Heath's wounds still showed no signs of infection by the following afternoon so
Dr. Merar began the complicated task of closing them. He started by laying the
large flap of skin over the ribs in place and stitching it closed. Next he
sutured the deep lacerations located on Heath's right shoulder blade, back of
his head, buttocks and the back of his thighs and the multitude of lacerations
covering his right arm. Lastly he securely bound the broken ribs. Nick became
concerned when he realized the doctor was finished.
"What about all those puncture wounds and his thigh and calf, doc?"
"It's best to allow the punctures to heal from the inside out. I checked his
belly over closely and felt no rigidity or distention, so no internal organs are
damaged. Just clean and disinfect them several times a day. As for the large
portions of missing flesh from the thigh and calf, nothing can be done other
than what I've instructed for the puncture wounds. Keep them covered with
bandages but do not bind them. They will have to heal on their own, from the
inside out, same as the punctures. Unfortunately this will leave very ugly scars
with a portion of flesh always missing, creating a crater like hole at each
site. His leg will never look like it did before but at least it will return to
normal function. If I pull the wounds together and suture them the tissue
underneath will not heal properly because of how deep and extensive the damage
is. It would lead to a pronounced limp or possibly rob him use of the leg
entirely." Dr. Merar kneeled down in Heath's line of sight.
"You are an incredibly strong young man to have survived the injuries you
received, Heath. You've come this far so don't allow impatience and stubbornness
to take it all away. I want you to take my advice to heart, if you start walking
too soon you risk not only having a limp for the rest of your life but also
losing your leg to amputation. As slow as the process will be you must allow
these wounds to heal completely. You are looking at a good three to four months
of confinement, Heath, and probably an additional two months before I will give
you permission to return to your ranching duties. I know this sounds unbearable
to a normally active young man but the alternative is a lifetime of pain or
dragging around a stump. So, no walking and no ranch work until further notice."
Dr. Merar patted Heath's left arm and stood up.
"I promise to stay put, doc, even if it kills me." Nick couldn't resist adding
his two cents worth.
"That's right, besides there's no way you could tolerate sitting in the saddle
with a butt full of
stitches."
"NICHOLAS JOHNATHAN BARKLEY!" The laughter that filled the room was due to
Nick's sheepish expression to his mother's admonishment as much as to his astute
observation.
"Victoria, because of how deep the lacerations are I won't remove the sutures
for at least two weeks. You can still submerse him in the tub to clean the
wounds and bathe him. As a matter of fact, I recommend doing so twice a day with
four separate cleansings in between. Go ahead and let him sleep through the
night but keep a close watch for any signs of infection or an escalating fever.
Send for me immediately if you notice either of these. His current elevated
temperature is to be expected and is acceptable."
"I will Howard and thank you very much."
"No need to thank me, Victoria."
Heath was true to his word and, though he was almost driven insane by the
inactivity and boredom, he followed his mother and Dr. Merar's orders without
rebellion or complaint. It was a full seven months before Heath was able to
return to his previous lifestyle. His right leg was not pretty to look at if he
wasn't wearing his pants but the missing portions of flesh were unnoticeable
otherwise. His gait was normal and the leg had nearly as much strength as before
the attack. Those horror filled hours had brought about one permanent change:
when they were alone Heath, forever and always, continued to call Victoria
"Mama".
Heath spent many nights during his recovery listening to Victoria, Jarrod and
Nick recount how they had instinctively known he was hurt and where to find him.
He was pleased but not surprised, a couple of months before the attack he had
begun experiencing the same sensations for them. The fact that they could now
sense his thoughts and emotions, even from afar, made him truly feel like a
member of the family. Growing up he had always had this heightened awareness for
Leah, Rachel and Hannah. He had no idea if it had a name or not but he liked to
think of it as being tuned in to the people you love.
END