The Voyage

Chapter 1 -- Setting Sail

by Abigail of Dreamers

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. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.

“The new teacher is arriving tomorrow,” Victoria announced towards the end of dinner in late August.

“Oh, that’s right; Mr. Martin’s retired now,” Audra said.  “Who’s the replacement?”

“A young lady named Hope Dougherty from Boston.”

“That’s quite a ways to travel just for a teaching position, Mother,” Jarrod commented.  “Why did you choose her?  There are more local teachers that are suitable.”

“Jarrod, don’t you remember?  I advertised in several eastern states because I wanted for Stockton School to have the best teacher we can find.  Miss Dougherty attended Mount Holyoke Female Seminary.  California is hardly a distance when compared to all the missions throughout the world where Holyoke graduates teach.  It really is an excellent ladies’ college, and she comes highly recommended from her teachers.”

“Her teachers?” Audra said somewhat dolefully.  “I suppose that means she’s a bookworm.  I had thought perhaps we could have some fun.”

“Don’t count the old school marm out yet, sis,” Heath teased.  “And don’t you worry about having fun; Laura and Nick will be back soon enough.”  Audra swatted him playfully.

“She’s arriving on the morning train from San Francisco, and I will be meeting her there.  I expect she’ll be tired from the journey and will want to rest some, so I’m taking her to the school for a short visit and then to Mrs. Murphy’s Boarding House.  Jarrod, I’ll be inviting her to dinner here, so I’d like for you to pick her up before you come home from the office.  And don’t get too caught up in things; she shouldn’t have to wait for you.”  Jarrod had to smile at his mother’s caution and caught the teasing grin Heath was pointing towards him.  He rose from the table and began walking towards Victoria.

“I’ll remember, Mother.”  He planted a kiss on her cheek.  “If you’ll excuse me, I have some papers to finish up, and then a game of pool, Heath?”

“Sure thing, Jarrod.”

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

She watched the landscape fly pas her window out the train and marvel led at how much land they passed yet how few people.  That was what she sought, the vast, empty expanses that were so full of promise.  She had foolishly thought when she began her journey that she would be able to capture the scenes of the new beautiful land the train passed.  Still, she kept her sketch pad with her.

She took her drawing paper out and a small, well-used bit of charcoal, and she sketched from memory Boston Harbor.  Here she was, across the country from her old home, starting a whole new life, yet still drawing pictures of Boston.  I thought it would be all excitement, but it’s still bittersweet.  Rare is the joy untinted of sorrow.

The conductor came through the car.

“Nearing our next stop, Stockton.  Arriving in twenty minutes.”

At his words, her apprehension returned.  It had been held at bay the entire journey, but she had yet to quell it completely. God give me courage, came her silent prayer again. Her hand went to her purse and took out a well-worn set of wooden beads.  Twenty minutes; she could finish in time if she hurried.  Her right hand moved towards her forehead: In nomine patris...........

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

Victoria watched as the train pulled into the station.  Several people were getting off and she looked through the crowd to find her schoolteacher.  Finally, she saw a young lady step down and accept a small portmanteau being handed down to her.  She approached the girl.


”Excuse me.  Are you Miss Dougherty?”  Hope turned to more fully face her, put her bag on the ground, and held out her hand.

“Yes, ma’am.  Would you be Mrs. Barkley?”  Victoria took the offered hand and shook it warmly.

“Yes, I am.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“All mine, ma’am.  I’m quite glad to be here.”

“I’ll call a porter for your bags and then we’ll be on our way.  Porter!”  A stodgy man came along shortly.

“Yes, Mrs. Barkley?”

“I need you to help us get Miss Dougherty’s bags to my carriage.”

“I just have a trunk and a small chest,” Hope added helpfully.

“Surely, ma’am, miss.  I’ll see to it.”  The man put his fingers to the brim of his hat and, turning, left.

“I know you’re tired and will want to rest up––”

“I’m alright, Mrs. Barkley.”  Victoria smiled.

“That’s quite alright.  I would like, if it is agreeable to you, to take you to the schoolhouse, where we can talk more about your role as schoolteacher.  Then, I insist you let me take you to Mrs. Murphy’s.  She runs and excellent boarding house and is a very dear woman.  I think you’ll like her.  Oh, and if you don’t mind, I’ll have my son, Jarrod, come by this evening and bring you out to the ranch for dinner this evening.  I’d love for you to dine with us.”

“I’d be glad to.  I must be frank, ma’am; I did not expect to be treated so well.  Thank you.”  Again Victoria smiled.  She had forgotten how unforgiving Boston was to the Irish and liked what she saw; though the girl was obviously a bit nervous, Victoria was confident in her ability to judge people and Hope was a keeper.

“Not at all, Miss Dougherty.  Now, if you’ll come with me, we’ll take my carriage.”

“Is Stockton that large a town?”

“No, but Mrs. Murphy is on the same side of town and it will be better than to come back for your things.  Luckily for us, the school is furthest from the train, so it won’t disturb you much.”

Victoria led Hope to the carriage and gently flicked the reins.

“Do you drive your own carriage often?”

“Mostly on working days.  Why?”

“I haven’t driven one before.  I’d like to.  Always loved animals, but we never had them ourselves to ride or hitch to a carriage.”  Victoria turned towards her teacher again.

“I’ll have to show you sometime, or have one of my children teach you.”

“You really shouldn’t; I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

“Nonsense,” Victoria proclaimed.

“You, my dear, need be cured of that Boston deference you have.  I came west thirty years ago, but I still remember how it was.  There’s nothing to be afraid of here; you’re a newcomer, like just about everyone else was at one time or another.  Just because I hired you doesn’t mean you have to act differently from who you are around me.”

“Thank you, ma’am.  I suppose it’s come by force of habit,” she explained vaguely.

“I’m so excited about this. I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am that you chose me.  Would you mind very much if we stopped at Mrs. Murphy’s and walked to the school?”

“Not at all.  Do you like to walk?”

“Yes, very much.  We walked everywhere back home.”

The carriage stopped in front of the house, and the ladies got out and began their short walk to the school house.

“You can see from here our schoolhouse.  It’s not very large, rather small, but there aren’t very many students, either.”  They reached the school and Victoria opened and held the door for Hope, and they both walked in.  “You’ll teach all academic and age levels here and maintain good order and behavior.  The children usually participate in some of the town festivals, such as the Harvest Festival in October and the Spring festival in May.”

“What sorts of things do they do?”

“Well, each child usually enters something in the children’s craft contests, for boys it’s often a wooden carving and girls usually a sewing or embroidery project.  It is customary that they be allowed to spend some class time on these projects.  I don’t suppose you have experience in carving or sewing?” Victoria asked with a glint in her eye.

“I put myself through school with a needle, Mrs. Barkley, and my brother taught me to carve.  I can’t say I carve often, but I do know the basics.”

“Ah, then I guess I mayn’t have to send my son in to give help this year.  Mr. Anderson is an excellent teacher, but, shall we say, not a craftsman at all.  I’m glad you have the skills to do this for the children.”

“You should still have your son visit, Mrs. Barkley; as I said, I only know the basics of it from what my brother Sean taught me.  The children should have someone who can guide them.  I’m competent in sewing, but not good enough at carving, unless, of course, your son will take an older pupil in an intensive course.”

“You can speak with him at dinner.  I think he likes doing it; he can carve beautifully if he wants to.”

“Then he doesn’t all the time?”

“No, and I don’t always understand it, but he has good reasons for everything else, so I just trust he has them for that as well.”

“Perhaps he understands the beauty of the rough,” Hope said softly to herself with an expression that said she understood that same beauty.  Victoria had heard, but chose to allow that personal remark to remain one.

“If you’re ready, we’ll head back to Mrs. Murphy’s,” Victoria suggested.

“I’m ready.”

They walked at an easy pace back to the boarding house.  Stepping up to the door, Victoria rapped jauntily on it.  A bustling of skirts and footsteps could be heard before the door creaked open and a round, cheery, wrinkled face appeared.

“Ahh, Mrs. Barkley, it’s a pleasure to see yeh, now!  Have yeh brought me da schooltehcher?”

“Glad to see you, Mrs. Murphy, and yes, this is our new teacher, Miss Dougherty.”

“Come in, dearies.  Jackie, fetch Miss Dougherty’s t’ings in fer ‘er.  Take ‘em to the last room at the end of the hall.”  She ushered the women in and scooted a teenage boy out the door to unload the carriage.  “Very glad to meet yeh.  Why, Mrs. Barkley, yeh didn’t tell me to expect and Irish one.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Murphy,” Hope said with a smile.

“Well, I’ll show yeh da room.  It’s down dis hall; I t’ought da first floor would be best, in case a student needs help or yeh ferget somet’in’.”  It’s better than you know, Mrs. Murphy, Hope thought, with a quick prayer of thanks heavenward.

The older woman steered her guests down the hall and opened the door.  The room was small, but comfortable, and furnished, if not extravagantly, sufficiently, with a bed, a nightstand with washbasin,  wardrobe, a small wall mirror, and a desk built into the wall.  Hope liked the feel of it, and immediately began to decide how she would decorate it.... later.  At that moment, the only immediate decoration she wanted to do was to drape herself across the bed.

“It’s perfect,” Hope enthused, moving out of the way as Jack brought her trunk in and placed it next to her small chest.  “Thank you for bringing my things in, Jack.  Will I see you in school?”

“Yes, miss, I’ll be there,” he replied shyly and left.

“Jack likes school, but don’t be afraid to put him in his place if he daydreams.”

“Oh, I won’t,” she answered with a smile and a yawn.

“Well, you must be very tired.  I’ll let you rest up now.  I’ll see you at dinner, then?”

“Yes, certainly.  Thanks very much.”

“Goodbye,” Victoria said with a smile as she left.

“I’ll let yeh alone, too, dearie,” Mrs. Murphy said.

“Thank you.  I’ll see you in a bit then.”  She patted Hope on the shoulder and, in her own way, waddled out and closed the door behind her.

Shedding her outer garments, Hope laid scandalously underdressed on her bed and was quickly asleep.

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

The late afternoon sun wafted through to curtains and into her face.  She waked gently, weary nymph, and yawned the hot, heavy California air.  Sitting up, her hand worked a still sleepy shoulder.  As fiery, bitter feeling returned groggily, she reached for her small watch.  She blinked to clear her eyes, squinted some, and looked at the time.  Four o’clock!  She had only an hour to get ready!

There was no time for a full bath, but she needed to get rid of the trail dust and odor she’d acquired.  Well, she’d done it before and she’d do it again, provided there was enough water in the pitcher.  The curtains were all drawn, and luckily the pitcher was full, and there were towels aplenty.

After she’d scrubbed down in record time, she changed into her undergarments.  Looking in the small mirror on the wall, she realized with a start that her hair was horrendous and it was already twenty minutes past four.  Letting it down with a firm yank, she proceeded to give each section the fastest one hundred, well, perhaps only seventy, strokes it’d ever been subjected to.  With a center part, she pulled it into a low bun that was both stylish and quite scholarly.

She flung open her trunk and searched for a dress.  It couldn’t be too fancy or too plain.  She knew the best dress was near the bottom, one she had cut down and sewn herself from a condescendingly bestowed day dress of one of the ladies she had worked for.  The hunter green dress was too large, giving her license to recut and style it.  Now it was lined with lace, had a three-quarter sleeve, and a better fitted bodice, the skirt flowing gracefully but not too widely to the floor.  She buttoned it up the front and tied the lace sash behind her triumphantly.

As she stood back from the mirror, pulling crisply down on the material near her hips, she smiled, proud at how quickly she’d readied herself.  Here she was, all set to go, and it was only..... three-thirty!  She must have read her watch wrong; it would be another hour and a half before her ride would arrive.  Good gracious, Hope; you’ve done it again.

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

As it were, Jarrod presented himself at Mrs. Murphy’s front stoop at quarter of six.

“Would yeh like to come in, Jarrod?”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Murphy.  I regret I am somewhat later than I intended.  Is the young lady ready?

“Yes,” she replied, though she had no evidence to prove or disprove her statement.  “I’ll tell ‘er ye’re here.”  The old woman pivoted jauntily and went to fetch Hope.

I hope this isn’t too terrible a dinner.  I loved Boston, but am much too familiar with the ‘Mrs. Jones’ Preparatory School for Girls’ type.  I’ll be lucky if she keeps silent during the ride, or restrains herself to polite conversation.  He looked heavenward.  God, let her be plain.  It’s too much to hope that she be pretty, but I don’t know if I could stand looking at a pinch-faced snob––

Hope came to the door and watched Jarrod’s expression change from one she couldn’t recognize to an open, welcoming one.

“Miss Dougherty, I’m Jarrod Barkley.”  He offered a hand which she took.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barkley.”

“If you’ll come with me, my carriage is right over here.”  He led her to the carriage and helped her up, the action garnering a word of thanks.  With a sharp flick of the wrist, Jarrod started the team, and they were off.

“So, how do you like Stockton so far?” he began after a moment.

“What I’ve seen is nice, but that amounts to driving from the station to Mrs. Murphy’s, and seeing the school, so I haven’t seen very much,” she said, with a small chuckle towards the end.  “That makes me sound like I’m sure I won’t like the rest of what I see.  That’s not what I meant.  And now I sound like a child protesting innocence from cookie-snatching.  Dear, I can’t seem to get my tongue to follow my brain this evening.  I’m sorry.  And now I’ve babbled.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.  You don’t sound like a child; you sound like a well-mannered young lady who’s still tired confusing her words in an attempt to convey an honest thought.  Don’t worry about it, Miss Dougherty.”

“Hope.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hope, Hope Dougherty.  I can’t fathom being called ‘Miss Dougherty’ all the time.  My students will have to, I’m sure, but doesn’t it ever bother you to be constantly an impersonal title and family name?  I hate it.”

“I see what you mean, but I like it in some ways.”

“Sign of manhood, perhaps?”  Jarrod turned to look at her.

“Hadn’t thought of it that way, but perhaps you’re right.  Hope it is, then.  So, what are your thoughts on this ‘sign of manhood’?”

“Well, now, I see what my tongue’s gotten me into!  Let’s see, then; if I’ve dug my grave no sense in delaying it’s use.”  He smiled at the teasing tone and resigned-to-death humor.

“From your dress, you are educated, yet your family owns a ranch.  Your father was the one who began it, was he not?”  Jarrod nodded.  “So, I can imagine you were called your given name, or ‘kid’ or ‘boy’ by everyone at home, at school, and all over the ranch.  Then, you went to be educated.  You came back, and all of a sudden, it’s ‘Mr. Barkley.’  You enjoy the respect never lent a boy.”

“I never thought about it like that,” he said with a wry smile.  “Are you always this... philosophical, or are the deep thoughts and analyses reserved for tired nights and wearisome carriage rides with the most insufferable lawyer?”

“Oh, my!  Most certainly I reserve such favors especially for insufferable lawyers.”

“Alright, then; now it’s my turn.  You’ve displayed my inner workings; I want to see yours.  What leads an educated, well-mannered, intelligent young lady across the country?  You’ve never been here before, you aren’t accustomed to the weather or the locale, for that matter.  Mother reminded me that Mount Holyoke is quite prestigious; you didn’t have to come to some rough-and-tumble, western ranch town.”


”That is true,” she answered carefully, “but I’m not just going to give out answers like a pastry chef trying to sell more by handing out free croissants.  You’ve got to work for that information.”

“Your clothes just say that you do not have financial difficulties and do have good taste.  Anything I say will be a guess.”

“Well, for that fine compliment, I shall grant you three guesses.”  He sighed.

“Alright; three guesses it is.  One: you have relatives here.  Two: you are one of those adventurous souls who’s got it in your head to ‘go west.’  Three: you have heard of the lack of females in most towns and are a mere husband hunter!”

“However did you guess my marital intent?” she fluttered, feigning shock.  “Truly, though, both one and two, though I must admit to mostly two.”

“So you’ve been lured out here by the siren call: ‘Go west, young lady’?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“You know,” she began again, “this country here is so different, so similar, and so beautiful.”

“Yes, I’d noticed,” he said with an indulgent grin.  “You have relatives here?”

“I did.  My uncle died a few months back, but my cousin lives here.  Actually, I believe she’s married, or is about to be.  I’m hoping she can help me learn some things.”

“What sort of things?”

“How to ride a horse, drive a carriage.”

Jarrod pulled the carriage to the side of the road abruptly and stopped the horse.

“What’s wrong?” Hope asked, puzzled.

“Nothing.”

“Then why aren’t we going anymore?”

“Because you haven’t started the horses yet.  Welcome to your first driving lesson.”  Hope laughed.

“Where do I begin?”

“At the beginning.”

“You’re being flippant.  Let’s see; you flicked your wrists when we started.  Is that how?”

“Ten points for being observant.  Yes, by flicking your wrist, the rein will hit the horse’s back, telling him to move.  Make sure he feels it, but not too hard.”  She eyed him warily.

“Alright.”  She tried, but it was not hard enough.  Screwing up her face with a determined look, she tried again and started the horse.

“See?  You’ve got it,” Jarrod commented.  “Just give him another to speed him up a bit.”

“If you say so,” she replied with another flick.

“How do I stop him?” she asked after a moment, her eyebrows scrunched.

“You just pull back on the reins, and you can say ‘whoa’ or ‘hold up, boy’ if you like.”

“Oh, I see.  It doesn’t seem as hard as I thought it would be.

“What’s the horse’s name?”

“Uh, this fellow is Pueblo.”

“Interesting name for the horse.  After the Pueblo Indians.  Why’d you name him that?”

“I didn’t; my brother Heath did.  He said the horse’s reddish-brown color reminded him of the adobe houses the Pueblos built and, since he didn’t consider ‘Adobe’ a proper name for a horse, he chose Pueblo.”

“Sounds like good logic to me.  Growing up, I had a chicken named Pericles.”

“Pericles?  A chicken?  I think he’d be offended.”

“No doubt he would.  I’d just studied him in school when he hatched.  I was going through my Grecian period at the time (his mother was Athena, goddess of poultry) and he had a big head, just like Pericles.”  Jarrod laughed.

“You must’ve been an imaginative little girl.”

“And a feisty one; I used to have a very quick temper.”

“Used to?”

“Ah, you caught me; yes, I still have it but I’ve learned to control it..... most of the time, anyway,” she completed with a mischievous smile.

“Could you give my brother some lessons?  When he gets back from his honeymoon, of course.”

“Tell him to be in class promptly the day after his return.”  Jarrod gave a bemused grin.

“I must say, Hope, you are quite a singular young lady.”

“You’re very generous.  I think perhaps you will not be so keen to say it once you are better acquainted with my willsome nature.”

“Is that your house down the way a bit?”

“Yes,” he replied, noting that she hadn’t allowed him a rebuttal to her self-deprecating comment.

“That’s quite a large house!  It didn’t seem so at first, but now it’s growing by the minute!”  Every chance of a short chuckle fled as Jarrod laughed outright at her amazement.  “Well, it’s easy for you to laugh: you live here.  I came across the country from a house near the city; I’ve seen large ones, but I didn’t expect it-- no one told me I was going to be assaulted by a looming mansion with columns wider than I am in a hoop skirt.”

“If you’re going to claim assault, I’ll have to take your deposition.  And you may have to wait for justice, because the judge is out on the circuit.  But you needn’t fear: I’ll keep it under strict house arrest.”  She swatted him.  “Miss Dougherty, I believe I’ll have to bring you up on assault charges.”

“You love thinking you’ve riled me up, don’t you?  You’re one of those dreadful, stuffy people that play games to get a reaction.  Well, we’re here now, and you haven’t succeeded, though I intend to by the end of the evening.”  She pulled the horse to a short stop.  Jarrod came around to help her down.  “And don’t think that good manners will get you a more lenient fate; I’ll get you worked up tonight, fair warning my friend.”

“Should you succeed, I will not be the only one who’s worked up.”

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

Jarrod held the door open for Hope.

“Mother,” he called.

“We’re in the den.  Ah, Miss Dougherty, it’s lovely to see you again.”   The latecomers walked into the den.  Audra’s face cheered some.  “Audra, this is Miss Dougherty, our new schoolteacher.”

“I’m very glad to meet you, Miss Dougherty,” she said with a sweet smile as she extended her hand, which Hope took.

“I am as well, and, as I told your brother, it’s just Hope.”

“Yes, Hope theorized her views on titles and family names on the way home,” Jarrod added with a smirk.  Hope answered with a knowing smile, which Audra caught.

“Well, then,” she said in her soft, chalky voice, “you must call me Audra.”

“Jarrod, would you get the sherry?” Victoria called.  “You don’t mind joining us in a glass before dinner, do you, Hope?”

“Not at all; it would be my pleasure.”  If this glass takes too long, I’ll be needing something harder than sherry, she thought to herself.  When do they eat?  It’s dark out and I’m hungry; good thing they didn’t hear my stomach growl a minute ago.

Audra had heard it; taking pity on her, she moved to help Jarrod. “Pour a little less than usual,” she whispered.  He nodded his assent.  Audra turned to hand Hope and Victoria their glasses.  The latter noticed the deficiency, but at a glance from her daughter withheld question.

“I propose a toast,” Jarrod said.  “To Stockton’s new schoolteacher.  May she teach students for years to come and may all good things befall her.”  They all sipped.

“Thank you, Mr. Barkley; that is very kind.”

“Just Jarrod.  I can stand to hear it a few more times, I think, and without the title,” he smiled.

“Hope,” Audra began, “what do you like to do for fun?”

“Drink, smoke, and gamble,” she replied without missing a beat.  They all laughed.  “To be honest, I like to draw, and sew, and, when no one can hear my terrible warblings, sing.  I also like to do charitable work.  Thinking on that, can you tell me what sort of work there is to do in service here?”

“Well, I work with the orphans.”

“That’s wonderful, Audra,” Hope replied with an excited smile.  “Would you mind if I came along?”

“I’d be glad to take you.  They need ever so much help, and the children are a joy.”

“Thank you.  Would sewing benefit them?”

“Oh, most certainly; they always need clothes, especially for the boys, who get holes in them so they can’t be passed on and then grow like weeds.  Do you sew often?” Audra questioned.

“I used to work as a seamstress, and though I do love to do it, it is terrible to do for young ladies who have nothing better to do than compromise my designs not once but several times as their fickle nature moves them.”  Audra laughed.

“Did you make that dress?”

“I recut it; one of my patrons was kind enough to bestow an old dress on me and, as she was taller, which I admit is not a difficult feat, and it was plain, I refashioned it.”

“It is lovely,” Victoria complimented with a knowing smile.  “Shall we move on to dinner?”

“What about Heath?” Jarrod asked.

“He sent word before you arrived that he needed to stay out late.  He sent his regrets, but it was important.”

“Too bad,” Audra said.  “He would have loved to meet you, Hope, I’m sure.”

“My father always says, ‘If there’s a storm, the light’s gotta go on, and it don’t matter that you don’t want to climb the ladder to do it.’”

“Well, adjust that to cows and fences and it fits perfectly,” Jarrod said innocently, but Hope gave him a glint of a glare that showed she knew the game he was playing and hadn’t fallen for it.  Jarrod extended his arm to Victoria.  “Shall we go in, then?”

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

They were on their second course; any feelings of hunger Hope had had were long gone, and she feared being impolite as she did not feel she could eat much more.  The family servant, was he called Silas, appeared with a bottle of white wine and showed it to Jarrod, who nodded his approval.  Silas took the bottle to the side and opened it.  Then he began pouring, starting with Victoria.  When he got to Hope, she shook her head.

“No thank you,” she said politely.

“It’s made right here on the ranch,” Jarrod countered, “sure you won’t have any?”

“Maybe some other time, but I am too tired already,” she replied with a smile.  “I would greatly appreciate a glass of water, though, if you have the time,” she asked Silas.

“Certainly, miss,” the old man replied with a grin.  He returned shortly with a pitcher and filled her wine glass with it.  It struck Victoria as odd that he would do that, but at Hope’s grateful smile, she realized the girl was making a good impression with everyone, even Jarrod.  They were similar enough, but she sensed something that just didn’t fit with wedding bells.  Oh, well; it was enough that Nick had just been married.  There was no need to rush or make hasty judgment, though: Jarrod was captivated by their guest.

Hope took a sip of her water, and watched Jarrod through the corner of her eye.  She waited until Jarrod was almost done sipping.

“Mrs. Barkley, you are a strong minded woman; what do you think of suffrage?”  Just as she’d hoped, Jarrod sputtered on his carefully selected wine.  Audra suppressed a smirk, and Victoria decided to join whatever plot Hope was working on.  Jarrod took another sip to stop his coughing.

“I hadn’t thought too much of it,” Victoria replied.  “Why do you think we should?”  Jarrod almost started coughing again.

“Yes, please tell us more,” Audra added sweetly.

“I don’t know that I should; it isn’t a woman’s place to speak her mind, you know.”

“Why ever not?” came Audra’s innocent question.

“Legally it isn’t; otherwise, we’d be able to express ourselves on election day.”  Jarrod regained his voice.

“There’s no need for women to vote; they are taken care of by their husbands and fathers, who vote on behalf of the family.”

“If men really are taking care of women, then why are our rights to own property restricted?  Is that looking out for us?”

“Of course it is; women aren’t supposed to take care of that thing.”

“What happens to widows and orphans?”

“Friends look out for them, the state helps.”  Jarrod’s voice was gaining decibels with every response, while Hope remained perfectly calm and even appeared somewhat disinterested.

“That from men who cut the budget every chance they get?  There’d have been no need to extend it if we were granted the same rights as men, and now that people are dependent on it you want to undermine the only support they have.”

“That’s not true!”

“Where is your evidence, counselor?  I don’t want an expansive government any more than you do; what I want is my rights.”

“You have rights the same as I.”

“I beg your pardon.  Are you not aware that Congress ratified the Fourteenth Amendment only a few years ago?”

“Of course I’m aware of it; what does that have to do with anything?”

“’All persons born or naturalized in the United States and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside.  No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.’”  Her voice held strength without any real force.

“Section One, congratulations; you have yet to demonstrate its relevance.”

“I was born in Massachusetts; that makes me a citizen.  I can pay taxes, I could go to jail, but I can vote for neither the senator who levied the tax nor the judge who passed sentence.  I would have great difficulty owning my own property.”

“It is not necessary!”

“That is immaterial.  I am a citizen, my rights have been abridged, and I have been deprived of both liberty and property.”

“You are exasperating!”

“You’re the only one exasperated,” she said, fixing him with a pleasant smile.  He heaved a sigh and glanced at his mother, who had a bemused look on her face, having understood what had really happened, more important than the discussion on suffrage.

“Yes,” he conceded with another sigh, “that is correct.”

“Mrs. Barkley, you spoke of a Harvest Fair this morning.  What sort of things go on?  I’d like to know so I can help the children get ready for it.  I remember loving that sort of thing.”  Once again Victoria was amused.  She’d been right about Hope, and she was even more certain than before.

“There are all sorts of games.  You already know about sewing and carving, but there’s also livestock and baking, a horse shoe toss, a spelling bee......”

***********

Jarrod offered his hand to Hope as she stepped into the carriage.  Climbing in himself, he took the reins and started the horses at a trot.

“Don’t you trust me to drive?” she teased.

“At this moment, no,” he answered with a resigned but playful tone.  “I admit it; you won.”

“Won?  I never thought of it as something to win or lose.”

“How else can you think of it?”

“Well, as something to do.  Is everything win or lose to you, Jarrod?”

“Hadn’t thought of that; no, I don’t think so.  This seems to be my night for rethinking things.”

“Are you rethinking suffrage?”

“I’d be lying to say I’ve changed my mind.”

“I’d be lying to say I value your agreeing with me more than your honesty.”

“You did a great job at getting me going, you know--”

“Yes, I did know.”

“--but did you have to do it while I was taking a drink?”

“Ahh, well, not essential, but if you’re not going to do things with style, why do it?”

“That’s style?  I’ll have to warn the men in town about our new she-devil teacher.”

“I could go on about devils not having a sex and therefore the term ‘she-devil’ infringing on women’s rights by segregating them from men, but I’ve run you ragged enough for one night.”

“Thank you.  Since I did lose, it’s only fair I pay my marker.”

“This wasn’t a bet; you don’t owe me anything.”

“We may not have said the word, but we both understood it to be one.”

“I can’t do that, not after what I did,” she said, feeling a bit contrite.

“No, I insist.  I don’t usually lose bets, but I did, so I’ll have to make it up to you.  How would you like to have lunch with me Monday?  My treat.”

“That’s too much; I can’t possibly accept.”

“You have to.  I’ll pick you up at Mrs. Murphy’s at one.”

“Alright.  I’d prefer to walk, though, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s a bit too far from your room to walk.”

“Then I’ll meet you at your office and we can walk from there.”  Jarrod preferred to pick her up, but knew he didn’t have a choice.

“How will you get to my office?”

“I’ll walk; I was intending to get to know Stockton better, and it will make a nice day of it.”

“I will see you there, then.”

“Thank you.  It’s too kind of you, really.”

“Nonsense.  It will be my pleasure to take the loveliest lady in town to lunch.”

“Loveliest lady?  That’s nonsense.  If anyone is, it’s your sister.”

“She has many an admirer, I’ll admit, but I don’t see her in that light, and you most certainly are the loveliest lady in town.”

“And you are a shameless flatterer; thank you.”

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

She was almost at Jarrod’s office.  The sky was as blue as the eyes of the man she had bumped into in the store.  She guiltily enjoyed the embarrassment on his face at swearing in front of her.  A true gentleman isn’t a man who doesn’t swear, but one who cares that he does, she thought with a twitch of a smile.  Maybe the man would find that out one day, and maybe he was glad it wasn’t an old lady who would’ve fainted at the sound.  She looked up to see a shingle reading “Jarrod Barkley Attorney at Law” stand out against the light blue sky.  She opened the door and climbed the stairs quickly, though there was no need.  Somehow she always felt like she was in a rush.  If she wasn’t there early, she was late; if there was a chance to go beforehand, she’d take it; if the sun wasn’t up yet, she wasn’t going to wait for it to come before she awoke.

She reached the top of the stairs and opened the door to see a secretary.  Closing the door behind her, she approached the desk; it was just one o’clock: she had forced herself to slow down and not be early.  Jarrod’s behavior made her slightly nervous and she didn’t want to appear over-anxious.

“Excuse me, I have a one o’clock appointment with Mr. Barkley.”  The woman looked down at her calendar, scanned it with the aid of her finger, and looked up again.

“Miss Dougherty?  I’ll tell him you’re here.  You may have a seat if you wish.”  Hope stepped back but remained standing while the secretary went into Jarrod’s office.  She returned a moment later.  “Go right in, miss.”

“Thank you,” Hope said with a smile and walked in.  Jarrod rose immediately.

“Hope, lovely to see you.  I’ve made a reservation at the Stockton Inn.  Shall we be on our way?”

“Sounds lovely.  I’m ready if you are.”

Jarrod took her arm and led her out the room and from the building.  Walking in the sunshine, he noticed that men were noticing the girl on his arm.

“Look, Hope.  You may not think you’re the loveliest lady in town, but every bachelor on this street is noticing you and thinking that exact thing.”

“I wish they wouldn’t.”  Jarrod thought he detected an undercurrent of fear in her voice, but decided not to press it.

“The weather today is lovely, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but it’s a bit warm to my tastes.”

“Ah, but you’re from New England; everything’s warm compared to that.”  She laughed.

“True, that’s very true.  Is this the inn, then?”

“It is indeed.  It’s one of my favorite places to pay up my bets.”  He held the door for her and they walked in.

*********

The food of such a reputable restaurant did not receive it’s full due as Jarrod kept up a steady flow of questions and conversational topics, though, to be fair, Hope spoke quite a bit herself.

“So, in all the topics we’ve covered, and I admit, there have been many, I think I have yet to ask about your home.  All I know is that it’s near Boston and your house is smaller than mine.”

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“Whatever you want to tell me about it.  I went to school there, so I’ll at least have an idea of what you’re talking about.”

“Alright.  Now, don’t forget I’ll be testing your knowledge on it later, so pay attention.

“I’m one of eleven children, ten are alive.”

“Eleven; that’s quite a few.  You must hear this often, but I’m curious: what are all the names, in order?”

“You’re right, I do hear it.  Well, my eldest brother died when he was an infant, so he hasn’t a name.  Then there’s Sean, I, Liam, Bridget, Siobhan, Andrew, John, Mary, Thomas, and Caetlin.”

“I can hardly imagine your mother calling for them all.”

“Well, it is a mouthful, especially with all the nicknames, but that’s another story, so enough of that.  My grandfather and grandmother were immigrants, so was my aunt, but my father was born in Boston.  He used to be a sailor, but Ma never liked it, so when the position of lightkeeper came up he took it.”

“You lived in a lighthouse?”

“Surely we did.  I loved it.  I love the sea.  It was nice, a bit isolated, but lovely.  Sometimes I got to help with the light when it was foggy or a storm.  The house was lovely, too; old, and damp, but cheery and cozy.  We’d have to get up early to get to school on time, but the wet morning air was lovely and I wouldn’t miss it for a thing.  Only thing that wasn’t good was coming in from work.”

“Work?”

“We all get jobs by the time we’re twelve.  I worked in my Uncle Paddy’s Pub.”

“You worked there?”

“It wasn’t anything bad; Uncle Paddy looked out for me and it was a way for the family to help each other.  I worked there and, when Ma saw how I took to sewing, I started working as a seamstress.  Had a lot of fun in both, you know, though serving drinks is much better than listening to the whines of young ladies with no cares and too much money.”  Jarrod laughed.

“I haven’t worked as either, but I can understand the point.”

“Be glad about the sewing; nothing is more tiresome than a willful, whimful, fickle young lady who takes apart your designs piece by piece when you know what looks best on her.  And then, as you are only their employee, these same girls complain that it’s not what they thought it would be.  They’ve been brought up senseless and are completely capable of living up to it.”

“Sounds as if you’ve had enough.”

“Dear me, I was ranting wasn’t I.  Well, yes.  Some ladies were pleasures to work with; most just needed something other than air between their ears.”

“I’m sure Stockton will be glad we have the former,” he replied, still laughing.

“I don’t know about that.  You haven’t told them about my seedy underside, have you?”

“Not yet.”

“Ah, then I’m wary, for when they find out, they’ll burn me at the stake.”

“No, we abolished that in California quite some time ago.”  She laughed and stole a glance at her small watch hanging around her neck.

“It’s getting late now; it’s past two-thirty.  Did you know that?”

“I hadn’t noticed at all.”

“Don’t you have appointments?”

“None until three-thirty.”

“Why do I think this is a conspiracy?”

“No reason.  Why do you want to leave?”

“Well, I’ve had a lovely time, honestly I have, but I need to work on my lessons for the children.  School starts Monday, and that’s only four days away.  I also need to get started on some other things.  Do you mind?  I should think an hour and a half pays off your marker more than necessary.”

“Not at all.  I’m sure I can find things to do; none will be as charming, of course.”

“Are you a lawyer or a flatterer?  I assure you, writing lessons is not as fun as you either, but what must be done must be done.  As my father says––”

“‘If there’s a storm, the light’s gotta go on, and it don’t matter that you don’t want to climb the ladder to do it.’  And as much as I don’t like to admit it at this time, your father is a wise man.”  Jarrod rose and pulled back Hope’s chair.

“You remembered it!  It is very true, but don’t worry, I won’t make a habit of quoting it too often.”

“You can say it as often as you like.  Truth bears repeating.”

“But constant repeating reaps no harvest save discontent.”

“Does your father say that?”

“No, that was me.”

***********

Hope laid on her bed in her room.  Her schedule had been finished very quickly; it was almost done when she’d used it as an excuse.  Dinner with the family, lunch the next day... it was all too fast for her.  She really liked Jarrod, but she had thought they would be friends.  She wasn’t the most knowledgeable on such things, being only eighteen, but she sensed that he was trying to make it more than she was ready for, more even than she wanted.

He had pointed out the way men noticed her, but she had noted the women, the stares from being on the arm of the man who was probably Stockton’s most eligible young bachelor.  Hope detested both types.  She didn’t want to be noticed; all it made was trouble.  She had never seen anything exceptional in her looks, but others did and it scared her.  She wanted love, a marriage, children, and she realized a physical element was important.  Her hand reached down and rubbed her weary thigh; no, being noticed was for the most part a bad thing.... all it led to was trouble.

***********

To be continued