Chapter Seven

"Did you find the photos?" Bobbie asked. She was sitting on a bar stool, sipping her tea and rubbing her sore toes. "Long day at the hospital," she sighed. "That John Doe talked my ear off. He's so cute, but he's terribly confused."

"There's a whole box full," Luke said, carrying the photos into the kitchen and setting them on the counter. "It's going to take all night to leaf through these."

Bobbie's eyebrows rose. "Let me know when you find the photo."

"Uh-uh," Luke said. "You're helping me."

"What am I looking for? I have no idea what you're up to, Luke. Why is it always like this? I'm the one doing the work, and you won't tell me what's going on."

"Quit yer complainin' and start lookin'," Luke said, teasing his sister. "We're only looking for photographs before the 1900's. How many of them can there be?"

"What does this have to do with the John Doe?"

"We're lookin' for him."

Bobbie chuckled. "Don’t tell me the Cassadines are working on a time machine. You'll have to find it and blow it up like you did with that crazy weather machine."

Luke shot Bobbie a sharp look, and her eyes widened. "No," she said in disbelief. "No. Luke!"

Luke shrugged. "Helena's up to something. I can feel it. And my contacts have confirmed it. I swear I've seen that John Doe in some of our photographs. I can't explain it, but I know it's true. Maybe this has something to do with Lucky's disappearance."

"Here's a bunch of photos in an envelope," Bobbie said. "They're old and a little frayed at the corners. They've been around for awhile."

Luke took the photos from her and carefully studied each one, setting them aside as he rejected them. "I’m not finding it," he said impatiently.

"You've only been looking for a few minutes," Bobbie reminded him.

"Is there another envelope?"

Bobbie pawed through the piles of photos. It figured no one in the Spencer family was disciplined enough to mount them properly in a photo album. Why make things easy? "Here's a few more," she said. "These are larger. They're in separate envelopes."

Luke opened two and shook his head. When he opened the third one, he exclaimed, "Hot d@mn!"

Bobbie leaned over his shoulder to look. "You found it?"

"Here's our John Doe."

Bobbie cried out. "That's him! Who is he?" They were staring at a formal, posed photograph of a man and a woman, taken on what was probably their wedding day. The man looked uncomfortable in his fancy suit, and the woman was simply beautiful and beaming even though she wore the same serious expression as her new husband. The man appeared to be in his mid to late twenties, and the woman perhaps twenty.

Luke turned over the photograph and read the elegant, old-fashioned handwriting. "Heath and Juliette Barkley. January 3, 1872."

"Who is he?" Bobbie questioned. "And why is he in our family photos?"

Luke pulled out another photograph of the couple and read the back. "He's holding our grandfather," Luke stated. "Heath Barkley is our great-grandfather!"

***

"I'm supposed to feed you," Audra said, raising a spoon to Lucky's lips. The boy was lying on a canvas cot near the kitchen fireplace with a blanket covering him.

Lucky smiled slightly at Audra's pretty appearance and perky personality. He opened his mouth, and Audra supported his head while he accepted the broth. "I'm drunk," he said, smiling broader.

"Shhh," Audra said. "They won't give you more whiskey if they hear you say that. I don't want you to scream anymore. It made us cry. Juliette and I were frightened."

Lucky frowned. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Couldn't help it."

"I know," Audra said, lifting another spoonful to his lips. "We're all suffering from nerves lately. Our brother Heath is missing. We're really worried. My brother Nick was looking for him when he found you."

"Where'd he go? Why's he missing?"

Audra's face saddened. "He had a fight with Nick. He stormed out. Heath's easygoing most times, but he can have a temper occasionally. Especially with Nick. They're close."

Lucky nodded. "I have a temper, too. Gets me in trouble plenty of times."

"Do you have a brother?"

"Yeah. His name's Nik, too. We do fight a lot. But, I haven't seen him in a year. I'd give anything to go back home." Lucky shifted on the cot, pushing away his blanket. Audra noticed that he was sweating; his face was red and looked hot. When he removed his hand from his side, there was blood marring his nightshirt.

"Can you eat the rest of this? I want to tell my mother you were good."

Lucky chuckled, sharing the unstated joke with the pretty blond girl. Her mother was the leader of the house; that was obvious. But he felt less afraid in the older woman's strong presence. She reminded him of his Aunt Ruby. God, he missed Ruby. She'd died two years ago. She wasn't supposed to do that. Everyone had been surprised and saddened by the loss. He closed his eyes, imagining her chiding him for his predicament, saying, "Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior. You're just like your father. How many times are we going to have to patch you up?"

Lucky felt a tap on his cheek.

"I need you to chew on this," Victoria Barkley said, holding up what looked like a strip of bark. "It's willow bark. It'll help that fever."

Lucky accepted it and made a face at its bitter taste.

"The bad taste means it's working," Victoria said. "Keep it in your mouth for a minute." She left him and returned with a porcelain privy. "You need to relieve yourself," she said. "We've been forcing water and broth into you, and you've been here for hours. You probably have to go."

Lucky gave her a look and turned away, still chewing on the bark. She was right. He was dying to take a piss. But not in a pot, not while she was staring at him. He'd find an outhouse, if that's what they had in this primitive setup. Why was his dream set in the REAL West? One with no indoor toilets. He wished he'd wake up. He pushed his blanket further aside and tried to rise, failing miserably, clinging to the side of the cot and panting.

"Here," Victoria said, turning him and lifting his nightshirt, placing the pot beside him.

"Hey!" Lucky protested. He pulled down the garment and raised an eyebrow.

Victoria chuckled and raised her own eyebrow. "Honey, I was married for years, and I've birthed plenty of children. Fed, burped, and diapered them all. You don't have anything I've never seen before. You needed help. I gave it to you. I'll return in a minute after you've finished."

Lucky blinked and shook his head, reaching for the pot. When in Rome....

***

Heath refused to stay asleep. Danger was warning him. But what about? They were odd, these folk. They kept staring at him, asking him questions. It was like he was being interrogated, and he wasn't sure what'd happen if he gave the wrong answers.

Nick could figure a way out of this. But, his brother had lost his temper, calling him a perpetual screw-up. Nick had wanted to brand the cattle, to keep on schedule with their sale and delivery. But he'd goofed off with Audra and Juliette, helping them plant herbs in the garden when he should have mended the last of the fence.

Heath rubbed his forehead. What had happened? He remembered bending down on one knee, his hands on the metal, twisting it, securing it to another piece. And then...BAM! That's the last he'd seen of the ranch. The next thing he recalled was waking up and looking at the boy.

Heath shivered. The boy was younger and smaller than him. He wouldn't be able to take it. He'd seen plenty of teenagers killed in the war; in fact, he'd nearly been one of them. But now he was older, he saw what a tragedy that was, a young life snuffed out before the livin' really started.

I need to find my horse, Heath thought. Charger knows how to find his way home even if I don't. A horse has instincts a man doesn't. I'll just hang onto the horse, and he'll wind up at the ranch. It has to work. I can't think of nothing else ta do.

Heath fought with the side rails of his bed, finally winning when they clanged down and away from him. Why was he so hot all of a sudden? A sharp pain ripped through his side. He hadn't been hit there! But the boy had...

I can't take this! Heath thought, jumping from the bed. I'm goin' crazy, outta my mind. Maybe that's what they want. I'm back at that prison after all. That's why they're interrogating me. The room spun around him, and the pain in his side built in intensity. "Oh God!" he shouted. "Get Doctor Merar! I'm dyin'!"