Continental Cowboy

Chapters 16-29

by Catgirl63

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

Duke stood leaning against the bar, heaving for air after he’d been drawn into the all out melee in the Golden Palace, reaching up to dab at the small cut on his lip with the back of his hand.  The older man, toughened by years of hard physical labor may have been considered by some past his prime, but the steel in his fists spoke of a power known only by those who hadn’t spent their lives caged inside a building day in and day out.

 

The head of the crew on the Barkley ranch nodded once to Fred Maden and his two deputies when they appeared to gain some control over the chaos amongst broken tables, splintered chairs, smashed glass and battered faces of groaning men.  The fair minded sheriff knew who already started the fight and he knew the importance of his part in the Pinkerton operation.

 

Turk, unscratched for the most part due to his size and ability to tower over the smaller men fighting around him, heard the town lawman questioning those who hadn’t partaken  in the breakout of violence for the name of the man responsible for throwing the first blow and setting off a powder keg of fists in the saloon.  Green eyes scrutinized the lawman after the bartenders pointed him in their vicinity, his lips almost smiling with glee.

 

“Sheriff.” said Turk wiping a hand over his hair to push it back in place before bending to retrieve his hat.

 

“The bartenders said your table started the fight tonight.” stated Fred quietly before gesturing around at the devastation.  “I’m afraid I’ll have to hold you boys for damages.”

 

“Hey!” protested several of his crew until their large leader stopped the words with a hand.

 

“Settle down.” ordered Turk firmly waiting til the voices died out.  “Actually sheriff, one of our fellow rodeo riders took offense to someone’s remarks.  He…well..he can have a bad temper sometimes.  He didn’t mean anything by it of course.”

 

“Where is this fellow and what does he look like?” asked Fred.

 

“He went out that window over there.  I can’t say where he is right now.  I was a bit preoccupied.” informed Turk with a smile.  “You can’t miss him though cause he always dresses in a suit.  He’s staying in room thirteen at the Hardesty Hotel, sheriff.”

 

“Thanks.” replied Fred turning to leave before changing his mind and looking at the large man.  “I’d suggest you boys call it a night.”

 

“Sure thing, Sheriff.  We’re not here to cause any trouble.  Just in town for a friendly rodeo competition.” grinned Turk, bidding the red-headed saloon girl goodbye with a tip of his hat before leading his rodeo men through the crowd and out the swinging doors.

 

Duke watched the men who had been sitting with the pinkerton agent leave the saloon before crossing over to where Fred was walking to the doors.  Stepping onto the boardwalk, the lawman stopped when the voice of the foreman stopped him.

 

“Fred, the man you’re looking for is the…”

 

“Yes, I know.” replied Fred in a low voice cutting off the foreman’s words and squeezing his shoulder pulling him away from the men who were leaving the busted up establishment.  “Just forget you’ve seen him, Duke and you might wanna let the Barkleys know.  It’s important.”

 

Puzzled, Duke nodded, “Sure, Fred, I’ll let them know.  I’d best be getting back to the ranch.”

 

Fred nodded and watched the foreman effortlessly climb into the saddle as if he hadn’t just been involved in a mass fight, sure the man he’d been acquainted with over ten years gave more than he got in the melee.  Walking to his office, the lawman moved to sit behind the desk after getting a cup of coffee to wait for the arrival of his prisoner.

 

Returning to his room, Heath entered and lit the wick on the lamp, putting his hat on the dresser and staring at the top drawer.  The worn drawer was open a fraction of an inch and the pinkerton smiled, realizing this was where the missing member of Turk’s club had been until he made his appearance.  Slowly opening the drawer, the blond shook his head at the amateurish search, able to see his clothes had been moved in a quick search, shutting it after collecting the bottle of whiskey from inside and taking it to his bed.

 

‘Turk’s making his move about now’ surmised the pinkerton with a wry grin pouring a glass and calmly sipped the fiery liquid, leaning against the headboard.

 

The restless desire to be over and done with this operation or at least out of this town had tempered only slightly with the knowledge of the arrival of his fellow agents.  The culmination of the past months was shortly to take place and the blond felt it couldn’t be soon enough.

 

The thrill of the cat and mouse game he enjoyed when the assignment first started now left a stale taste in his mouth.  He’d like to think he was just tired of pretending to be someone else but knew inside that wasn’t the only reason.  The brackishness started when they learned of the Barkley gold shipment coming from their mines in Lodi.

 

When Turk and his gang passed on an easy score in Salinas, the pinkerton felt the man was going for an all or nothing play.  The instinctive feeling from spending the last months observing the man he knew were on the money.  Like most criminals who taste success after success of small victories, the hunger for more grew inside until it was an unstoppable hunger for wealth beyond one’s wildest imaginations.

 

The hunger was in Turk and especially his men when their splits were small and not enough to satiate the hunger.  Mathematically, their successes couldn’t even sooth a single hunger pang and their feelings of being untouchable certainly grew with each score taken.

 

Resting the back of his head against the metal frame of the headboard, Heath took in a deep breath and stared at the cracked plaster of the ceiling.  This hotel was like most places he’d stay wherever his job took him.  The rooms became combined in his mind over the years with no separation from rundown room to rundown room.

 

Like most who dreamed of the future, he often thought he would eventually have a place of his own and perhaps if he were lucky enough, someone to spend his days with til old age.  Course, his dreams as a boy growing up in Strawberry didn’t include the added obstacle of his girl’s parents having to see past the label given to him at birth.  Once he accepted the stigma attached to his birth, he had come to realize his dreams may never come to fruition and accepting it had not been as hard as he thought it would be.

 

He supposed that was due to his profession which kept him busy and unable to establish any relationship beyond a casual one.  Other than Kate and the agents under her supervision, he really had no constant female presence in his life other than those surrounding his investigations.

 

A firm rapping on the door stopped his meandering mind and the blond crossed the room, opening it and looking at the two young deputies.

 

“Evening deputies.” greeted Heath with a smile before stepping back into the room.  “Something I can do for you.”

 

“You’ll have to come with us sir.” stated Billy as they entered the room.  “You’re under arrest for starting the fight which destroyed the Golden Palace.”

 

“You call a broken window destroying a saloon?” queried Heath loudly in disbelief, sensing Turk hanging onto every word through the paper thin walls.

 

“Sir, let’s go down to the jail and you can talk it over with the sheriff.” suggested the young lawman calmly.  “Now, turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

 

Following the orders of the young deputy, Heath gestured towards his hat on the dresser after his hands were secured.  “Can you get my hat?  This suit doesn’t look as good without the hat.”

 

“Sure.” stated Billy picking up the black covering and placing it on his prisoner’s head, before taking hold of the muscular man’s arm to lead him into the hallway.  The second deputy locked the door behind them with the key which had been lying on the table and followed his peer walking the prisoner down to the lobby.

 

“Can’t I just pay you for the window?” asked Heath as he was lead down the hallway.

 

“I’m afraid it’s more than a window, sir.” informed Billy.  “You started a fight which caused a riot.  There was extensive damage.”

 

“A riot!” exclaimed the blond stopping in his tracks and staring at the deputy, his eyes glancing past the younger man to Turk who appeared on the steps leading to the lobby.  “I fought with one man, how can that be a riot?  What the hell kinda town is this anyway?  You can’t hold me liable for other people fighting!”

 

“The sheriff’ll explain it to you, sir.” stated Billy, glancing to his partner who took the other arm of the blond and the two men walked him out the door, down the street.

 

Standing on the boardwalk and leaning against a post, Turk smirked widely at the blond protesting his arrest with each step down the long street, glancing to the tall man who appeared on his left.

 

“Find anything?”

 

“No, he’s clean.” stated the low voice softly.

 

“Good.” grinned Turk shaking his head at the fading voice of his rodeo peer sounding from down the street.  “Good.”

 

 

 

Chapter 17

 

Fred set his coffee cup down at the muffled voice raised in protestation above the sets of boots ringing on the boardwalk.  Smirking for a moment, he leaned back in his chair watching as the door opened.  Billy stepped through and caught the eyes of his boss, rolling his upwards at the words which hadn’t stopped during the walk to the jail.  Pulling on the arm of his prisoner, the young deputy lead him through the doorway.

 

Sensing the annoyance flowing off his deputy, Fred reached up to swipe a hand across the smile turning his lips upward.  Pushing himself up from the chair, the older man barely glimpsed at his deputies’ prisoner before grabbing the keys and motioning the trio forward through the inner door.  Billy and Michael followed their boss to the holding area.

 

“Michael, you better make the rounds.” ordered Fred sending his newest deputy out of the jail while Billy escorted the blond inside, searching and relieving the prisoner of his weapons.   Turning him around, Billy unlocked the metal bracelets as the second deputy exited through the front door.

 

Heath rubbed his wrists and turned as the sheriff locked the door, the metal clanged against metal.  Looking at the older man, the blond shook his head. “Sheriff, where’d you get this deputy of yours?”

 

Fred glanced at Billy who was standing with an irritated look on his face before asking, “Why?  Something wrong with him?”

 

“Yeah, he’s too polite.” stated the prisoner in a matter of fact tone, leaning his forearms on the cross bars.

 

“Too polite!” exclaimed Billy with a  look of disbelief flashing between the two men.  “What kind of complaint is that?  Did you expect me to shut your trap instead of listening to all your bellyaching on the way here?”

 

Fred looked down at his boots, biting his lip to keep his laughter in check at the bewilderment in his young protégé’s voice.  Heath looked innocently into the flashing youngster’s eyes before observing.

 

“Kinda feisty ain’t he, Sheriff?”

 

“A mite sometimes.  Mostly steady though.” stated Fred.

 

Nodding, the blond studied the younger man as if he were a horse he was purchasing before turning his eyes back to the sheriff.  “Got nerve does he?”

 

“More nerve than smarts sometimes.” replied Fred dryly, sending a flush of red up Billy’s neck.  “With a few more years under his belt, he’ll be a class one lawman.”

 

“Or he could be dead from not thinking.” suggested the blond thoughtfully.  “Having smarts keeps a man alive longer.”

 

“Luck helps too.” stated Fred.

 

“Luck can run out and leave ya’ hanging out to dry while the buzzards strip the meat off your bones.” shrugged the prisoner before reaching up to drum his fingers against the cold metal bars. “Course everybody’s gotta be given a chance to see what they’re made of, Sheriff.  Think he’s got the right stuff?”

 

Fred met the blue eyes looking back at him and nodded once, “Positive and I’d stake my life on it.  Have several times as a matter of fact.”

 

Billy scowled at the men talking as if he weren’t sharing the same space with them, his frustration at their pointed ignoring of him was starting to reach a boiling point.  He resisted the urge to turn and stomp out of the holding area like an impatient child who should only be seen and not heard.

 

“Fred, it’s not your life we’re playing with.” informed Heath, calling the sheriff by his given name sent  Billy’s head snapping upwards in surprise.  “Kate will want to talk to him first, of course.  She’ll be running that part of the show and will have the last say.”

 

“You two know each other?” hissed Billy, feeling every bit a fool at the conversation they’d held in front of him.

 

“Agent Heath Thomson.  Billy Mayfield.” introduced Fred gesturing to the man in the cell.  “Billy, this is the pinkerton who investigated Tom Barkley’s murder a few years back.”

 

Billy flinched as if the hand held out through the bars slapped him and he glared at the agent, his eyes narrowing in anger.  “You’re him?”

 

Fred glanced quickly to his deputy, taking in the flush of embarrassment which changed to a sheen of anger.  “Billy, what’s the matter with you?”

 

Looking into the furious eyes of the young deputy, Heath experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and kept the deputy’s eyes locked with his, his hands gripping the bars tightly.  “Fred, can you give us a minute?”

 

Fred puzzled over the change in his deputy, hesitated to leave the two men alone and only doing so after the pinkerton agent commanded it.  The closing of the holding area door sounded as loud as thunder in the ten by fifteen feet wide area where lightning was flashing.  Heath calmly stared into the blazing orbs trying to sear their way through him, the low harshly spoken statement widening his blue eyes in surprise.

 

“Audra Barkley told me what you tried to do.”

 

Tilting his head slightly, the pinkerton stated, “Really?  And what was that?”

 

Taking a step forward, Billy snapped out, “You tried to git money outta them while they were grieving.  Tried to take advantage of them by lying about being…being…one of them.  How could you….a pinkerton try something like that?”

 

Taking in a deep breath, the blond loosened his grip on the cell bars and responded in a firm voice, “Since you brought it up Deputy….I didn’t lie.  He was my father whether they believe it or not.  They have the proof and all they had to do was look at it.”

 

“Proof?” retorted Billy. “What proof?”

 

“It’s none of your damn business!” fumed the blond suddenly taking hold of the deputy’s shirt and bringing him up roughly against the bars.  “This Barkley business has nothing to do with you, nothing at all!  Keep out of it and keep your mouth shut!”

 

“It is my business, Audra Barkley is my fiancée.” stated the deputy as he looked into the shocked blue eyes of the man holding him against the bars, sliding his gun out to rest it against the stomach of the pinkerton agent.  “Now let go and back off or I might use this to keep the Barkleys safe from your lies.”

 

Letting go of the junior lawman’s shirt, Heath let out a frustrated breath and stepped back from the bars, pacing the small confided space before stopping to stare.

 

“Well, now isn’t this an interesting situation Deputy Mayfield.” smirked the pinkerton agent retaking his place against the metal bars.  “I can see how protective of the Barkley family you are, but I wonder….how protective would you be over their property?  Would you give your life for it?”

 

“What are you talking about?” questioned Billy not liking the glint appearing in the cool eyes of the pinkerton.  “What property?”

 

“The property I’m here to protect, Deputy.  Ironic isn’t it?  They refused to listen to my claims two years ago and now, I’m here to protect the product of their mining claims.  Their gold.” chuckled the pinkerton softly before turning somber and his eyes turned icy blue.

 

“I’ll protect it with my life if I have to, regardless, if they appreciate it or not.  They haven’t given me a second thought and now, I’m here to take down those who threaten their livelihood without a second thought of perhaps dying to do it.  Because that’s my job and that’s more important than they will ever be to me.”

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

Hanging his head for a moment to rest his forehead against the cold metal of the bars, Heath took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing his inner demon of anger back down.  Looking up into the eyes of the young deputy, the pinkerton pushed back from the bars and paced the small cell.

 

“Listen Deputy…” started the agent gathering his words as he took off his coat after he trekked a short path the width of the cell and laid the black jacket on the cot.

 

The hackles on the back of Billy’s neck soothed and he watched with curiosity as the pinkerton unbuckled the strange shoulder harness he wore, set it on top of the coat and followed it with the gunbelt from around his slim waist.  The man’s volcanic burst of anger still lingered in the air and a fleeting thought of the similarities to Nick and Jarrod’s quick temper suddenly sprang into his mind.  Billy was stunned for a second at how natural and uneasily fitting the comparison flashed in his mind before the blond sat on the cot and stared at him through the bars.

 

“Deputy, I’ll be out of town by Monday and they….won’t see me again.  I didn’t plan this but there’s nothing I can do.  The job lead me here and my priority is to stop this gang.  They haven’t killed anyone yet but one man has been crippled and another was left blind.  If I wanted anything from that family, I’d have come back long before now.  At this moment, I need to know only one thing.”

 

“What’s that?” asked the deputy.

 

“Which are you?  A lawman or someone’s betrothed?”

 

“I’m a lawman.” answered Billy without hesitation.

 

Nodding, the blond pushed back to recline against the brick wall of the cell, raising a knee to rest his arm on it and wiped the other hand over his face.  The deputy kept his eyes on him the whole time and Heath felt a small measure of relief at the awareness the young lawman exhibited.  The clashing of the deputy’s protectiveness and what he represented hadn’t closed off the deputy’s mind or severed any chance of gaining the support they’d need.

 

“My counterparts have a plan and they have spoken with Fred about the need for someone who is familiar with the people in town.  Fred said you would be the best person to work with us.  He has great faith in your abilities.  I hope it hasn’t been misplaced.”

 

Stepping forward to lean against the bars, Billy’s eyes reflected his pride at being chosen by his mentor and boss.  “What do you think now that we’ve….met and spoken?”

 

The question took Heath by surprise and he stared for a moment to again study the man who was engaged to Audra Barkley.  Lives were riding on the line in this game and the pinkerton chose his words carefully, wanting to relay the importance of the capture while wanting to ensure this youngster knew the costs.

 

“I think if you’re not able to separate being a lawman from your upcoming marriage into the Barkley family, you’ll more than likely get me killed.  These men are not fools and one mistake is all it’ll take.” answered the blond in a low firm voice.

 

“I’m a lawman.  It’s my job to keep people from harm, regardless of who they are or what my own personal views may be.  I take my oath seriously, Agent Thomson.” informed the brown haired deputy, the look of honesty matching the truthful tone of his words.

 

“Good.” acknowledged the agent suddenly feeling tired and exhausted, struggling against a yawn.  “Fred will tell you where to met up with Kate.”

 

“Okay.” said Billy turning to leave, looking back at the agent’s last words as he stretched out and covered his eyes with his hat.

 

“Deputy…..no one is to know your involvement with us or what happened two years ago between me and the Barkleys…and I mean no one….secrecy is a must.”

 

Staring at the prone agent who had his entwined hands laying on his stomach, Billy frowned before moving away at the sounds of even breaths coming from the cell.  The young deputy over the years had greedily devoured any piece of information in the newspaper or magazines about the Pinkerton Detective Agency and likewise, any other law agency outside his realm in Stockton.  All he’d ever wanted to be as he grew up was a member of the law service.

 

It was in his blood just as it had been in his father’s blood, his grandfather’s and his grandfather’s father.  Wearing a badge and putting yourself on the line everyday was second nature to him.  It was becoming who he was even on his days off.  Once a lawman always a lawman.  The words were often spoken by his father.  It became a mantra to Billy on his path in life just as it had to his father before a bullet cut short his career.

 

Stepping out into the office, Billy met the eyes of Fred loaded with questions as to what went on in the holding area with the jailed pinkerton agent.  The young deputy sat in the chair across from his boss and shook his head negatively, apologizing in a soft voice.  “Can’t tell you, boss.  Sorry.”

 

Letting out a frustrated grunt, Fred leaned forward to shuffle through some papers on his desk before questioning, “Are you in?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Go to the old Brenner house on the edge of town and don’t let anyone see you.” stated Fred looking up into the eyes of his young deputy and friend.

 

“Billy, they may want you to lay low for a few days.  I can tell Audra I had to send you out of town if that happens and let Michael know the same.”

 

Billy nodded and stood.  “I’d appreciate that.  Thanks.”

 

Fred waved his deputy to the door before warning, “Be careful, Billy.  I want you back in one piece.”

 

Stopping and looking over his shoulder, Billy grinned before turning the knob on the thick door.  “Me too, boss.  I like my hide without holes.”

 

Chuckling at his deputy’s parting words, the sheriff leaned back and put his feet up on the wooden desk, the amusement in his eyes fading away with the unknown results of the upcoming days.  The gray haired lawman found his eyes wandering to the inner door, his mind eager to know what had taken place between the two lawmen.

 

 

 

Nick’s small moan of pain was the first sign of his rewaking and jostled Jarrod from his dozing in the chair next to the bed.  Straightening and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stood up to hover over his brother, studying the face sporting a bruise on its cheek and the movement beneath the eyelids.  The guilt of having unleashed such animalistic fury against his own brother weighed heavy on his shoulders and darkened his blue orbs.  It had been a long time since he’d lost control over the anger inside of him and he was ashamed at the damage he inflicted.

 

“Don’t Jarrod.” groaned Nick the look in the eyes of his older brother tearing his heart in two, overriding the burning of the injury in his back.  “It’s not your fault alone.  I was there too.”

 

“Nick, you could’ve been killed or crippled from that piece of wood.” replied Jarrod tersely, helping his brother who was struggling to sit up further.  Leaving his hands on the biceps of Nick, he gasped unwillingly from the pull on his ribs.

 

“Looks like we both got in some good licks counselor.” smirked Nick, flashing a grin.  “Guess you ain’t as soft as I always thought you were.”

 

“This is not funny, Nick.” rebutted Jarrod pulling his hands away and shaking his head while he stood to pour a glass of water.

 

“It won’t be the last time we blow up at each other, Jarrod.” informed the rancher accepting the glass and taking a small sip.  “Just let it go, okay?  I’m gonna be out of bed today and you’re still moving.  We’ll chalk it up to friendly fire.”

 

“Do you honestly believe Mother’s going to let you up and about?” teased Jarrod, his words sending a scowl across his brother’s face.

 

Pushing himself up more and reclining his sore back against the soft pillows, Nick winced before taking in a deep breath.  Hazel eyes stared at the family picture on his bedside before moving back to his big brother watching him intently.

 

“What makes you say…he’s one of us?” requested Nick softly.  “What was in that file?  What’s his proof, Jarrod?”

 

A knock on the door stopped Jarrod’s words and both men watched as Silas poked his head in the room.  “Misstah Duke’s here ta see ya Misstah Jarrod.  Says tis ‘mportant.”

 

“Thank you Silas.  Let him in.” said Jarrod standing after the elderly black man opened the door to allow the foreman to pass by before leaving the men alone.

 

“Duke, what’s so important it couldn’t wait til morning?” asked Jarrod.

 

Nodding to the two brothers, Duke frowned slightly, “The sheriff sent Billy to arrest that pinkerton who was here two years ago, Heath Thomson…”

 

“He what?” queried both brothers at once interrupting their foreman’s words, surprise sprang across both their faces.

 

“Fred said to tell you he was in town and to forget I saw him.” informed the foreman, puzzled at the knowing glances between the two men.  “You already knew he was in town?”

 

“Yes, we did Duke and do exactly as Sheriff Maden instructed.” stated Jarrod with a frown.  “Why was he arrested?”

 

“Some guy made fun of his clothes and they started a fight that tore up the Golden Palace saloon.” relayed Duke.  “Place’ll be out of business a few days from the looks of it.  He just grabbed the guy and dragged him across the table, then got in a few good licks before the whole place exploded.  Remembering him from two years ago, I wouldn’t have believed Thomson had such a hair trigger temper.”

 

Nick looked over to Jarrod and arched an eyebrow, both men fighting smirks at the foreman’s animated description of the pinkerton’s swift reaction to the match lighting his fuse, unconsciously aware of the mutual agreement their smirks signified.

 

 

 

Chapter 19

 

After leaving Nick’s room, the matriarch found herself filled with hesitation and dread at untying the bindings on the folder.  She laid it on the round table and stared at it from her chair in the corner of the room.  Any courage at delving into the documents left her as soon as the door closed behind her.  In the quiet of her bedroom, she felt guilty at betraying the memory of her husband and the father of her children.

 

Hers and Tom’s children.  Repeating the phrase in her head, the silver haired lady of the house suddenly desired to know if the statement was valid and true.  Did her Tom have only three children or did he have four?   Did the man who walked by her side through life until his untimely death father another son?  With another woman?

 

Could the young man she laid her hand on two years ago be another son?  If he was, had her husband known while he were alive?  Had he knowingly left a child to suffer under the label many saw as being lower than dirt?  Could her beloved been capable of such an underhanded and dastardly action?

 

If it were true, legally Tom had done nothing wrong.  For in the eyes of the law, a child must be born in wedlock to have any rights.   A product from a liaison outside the boundaries of marriage had no legal recourse and no standing in the eyes of the law.  However, morally it would be an act of cruelty and injustice to a baby who had no control over its birth.  An innocent child who would suffer for his parents’ wayward actions.

 

It was the knowledge to lay to rest what had been opened and closed that night two years ago that finally gave her the courage.  If she didn’t take this step, Victoria knew it would haunt her for the rest of her days on earth and perhaps beyond that.  She was stronger than she had been two years ago and she needed to know.  She needed to slay this demon rearing its head again.

 

Taking a few moments and changing into her nightdress, the petite woman put on a robe and brought the file to her bed.  Plumping the pillows against the headboard and reclining, her small fingers delicately untied the binding and pulled out the papers inside.

 

Drawing in a deep breath, she found herself looking at the article in the paper of her husband’s death.  The details in the written words were forever seared into her memory and she set it to the side.  The next pages were a copy of a pinkerton background report into Tom’s life from his humble beginnings in Virginia through the years until he amassed his fortune and built his empire in California.

 

Studying the entries, she saw evidence of the thoroughness heralded by the pinkerton investigators from the comments written in the margins throughout the report.  Names were underlined from her husband’s past business dealings.  On a separate piece of paper, the whereabouts of those individuals was also documented.  Many of the men at the time had been deceased and those who were known to be alive had at some point been found not to have a motive for perpetrating the crime.

 

The carefully documented investigation brought forth a lot of memories, good and bad.  Times where their business was successful and others when an unexpected loss would occur.  Seeing those names from over the years was the same as reading from a book of memories, bringing their faces into her mind.  She hadn’t realized how many people had touched their lives over the years and how many acquaintances they’d made over the time past.  People from all walks of life and all different financial standings.

 

As clear as the details appeared on the pieces of wood pulp she held in her hands, Victoria was able to attribute the careful meticulous steps taken throughout the investigation with Heath Thomson.  At the time of deep despair and uncertainty, Heath Thomson had become their champion for justice.  She recalled the pinkerton agent’s sensitivity when speaking with her in those dark days.  He was respectful and yet, tenacious in his endeavors to bring a sense of light to her and her children.

 

Looking back with a mind free of depression and overwhelming pain, it was easier to recognize how they’d come to rely on the young man who appeared in their lives to find a reason for the wrong they’d suffered.  While there were two other agents with him, it was Heath Thomson who answered when they demanded a status of the investigation.  It was him who’d witnessed first hand the new disjointedness of their once cohesive unit.  It was Heath Thomson who went beyond his own responsibilities as the lead investigator to help her family through.

 

Brushing an errant tear from her cheek, Victoria stared at the birth certificate she’d picked up after laying the report to the side.  The name of the mother was noted as Leah Thomson and the father’s line was simply filled in with TJB.  The name of the child was Heath.  Taking a deep  breath, she set the paper to the side and gasped at the death certificate which was next in the pile and dated a mere two days later.  Leah Thomson had succumbed to complications from child birth.  The mother’s heart inside Victoria’s chest cried out for the young man who’d never known the love of his mother or could ever recall the warmth of her body as he was held in her arms.

 

Taking a faded envelope addressed to Leah Thomson, her small fingers delicately opened it while her eyes took note of TJB in the corner.  The letter was dated eight months prior to Leah Thomson’s death and looking over the signature at the bottom, Victoria saw her husband’s distinctive hand writing and felt her stomach flop.  Laying her head back against the headboard, she fought the nausea rising up inside.  Her husband had written to Leah Thomson eight months before her death.

 

Holding the letter in her hand, the silver haired lady swung her legs to the side of the bed and took several deep breaths.  A quiet knock on her bedroom door announced Silas’ arrival with her evening meal.  Taking advantage of the break, Victoria tried to smile reassuringly into his caring eyes as the older gentleman rested the silver tray on the table before hesitantly leaving the mistress of the house.  Closing the door behind Silas, she walked across the room bypassing the meal prepared for her to stand at the window, gazing out at the sun receding to the horizon.   The brilliant orange hues bathed the ranch in a fiery glow.

 

Several minutes passed before her heart stopped pounding wildly and the tension in her shoulders lessened.  Sighing deeply, Victoria raised the letter and by the window where her husband often looked to the horizon she read his words to a woman she’d never met and he knew not as a casual acquaintance but intimately when he was away from home.

 

My Dearest Leah,

 

Words will never be able to express how much you’ve meant to me these last months.  In searching underground for gold, I came from that deep hole to find an angel on earth.  From your first breathtaking smile, I was hungry for more.  I became a man lost in the desert and you became my oasis.

 

My feelings for you were and always shall be genuine and sincere.  I know we said we would be grateful for the time we had and yet, my heart still breaks.   I am a man who has been blessed twice in life.  I have been blessed with you and with my Victoria, the mother of my children.

 

I love you both but I need Victoria.  She has been my life’s sustenance from the first day I saw her.  She has been the woman I dreamed of spending my years with and who has made me the man I am today.

 

I believe you will someday find in someone what I have found in my sweet Victoria.  You are so giving and nurturing, please promise me you will have children someday for you have so much in you to give and many gifts to pass on.

 

You will be a wonderful mother and some lucky man’s own angel in the future.  Of this I am certain, however, for us it could never be.

 

Sincerely,

 

Tom

 

Hugging her arms around her waist, the quiet room was filled with sobs of betrayal and disillusionment.  Sliding against the wall, Victoria rested her cheek against the wood surface, uncaring of the tears running down her cheeks while the faded words fell to the floor.

 

She didn’t know how long she cried as she sat huddled against the wall.  Time was nonexistent while her heart shattered into tiny pieces.  It was the coldness of the wall and the floor seeping through her robe which caused the grieving woman to move.  Seeing the words staring at her from the floor, a shaky hand reached  and wrapped itself in the paper.  Pushing her numb body up on stiff legs, she let her body collapse onto the bed.  Curling up and lying on her side, Victoria stared at the array of papers spread on the quilt, tilting her head at an entry which sprang out at her.

 

Keeping her eyes on the paper, she raised herself onto her elbow to turn the report and read the entry of Tom’s partnership in the Strawberry mines.  The initials TJB in the margins with a question mark suddenly made sense.  The date of his time spent in Strawberry was circled and under the initials it was simply noted, ‘Is it possible?’

 

A moment of severe anxiety overtook her and she rifled through the papers, stopping at a faded photograph with yellowed corners and a crease through it.  It was a picture of Tom at the age of twenty six.  The likeness was similar and yet so different from the man whose life was cut short at the age of fifty.

 

Running her fingertip lightly over the young face staring back at her, she realized this was the same picture which suddenly disappeared from their album and the absence of it had never been explained all those years ago.

 

Turning the thick paper over, she closed her eyes at the writing on the back and felt the tears restart anew.

 

Leah,

 

All my love.

 

TJB.

 

 

 

Chapter 20

 

Preparing to exit the water closet at the end of the hallway, Jackson Martin stopped and peered around the frame of the door, puzzled eyes watching one of Turk’s henchmen leave his room after the deputies lead Thomson away in handcuffs.  The short bald man waited for a minute before proceeding down the hallway, past his room and to the staircase.  He descending enough to watch the intruder speak to Turk who nodded in response through the open door of the hotel.

 

Returning to his room, the barrel chested rodeo competitor locked the door behind him and did a thorough check of his belongings.  Nothing was missing and he frowned at why Turk had obviously ordered his room be searched.  Sitting on the bed, Jacks felt a chill penetrating through his skin and into his bones.

 

For a moment he had a sinking suspicion the giant knew the truth.  It was a moment of wide eyes panic and he jumped up to rapidly pace the room, wiping the beads of sweat suddenly dotting his forehead.

 

‘If he knows about Thomson, he might think I’m in with him.’ thought Jacks swallowing the fear choking off his airway.  ‘Thomson and me practice together and hang out together.  Spend time together.’

 

“Dear god, I’m a dead man!” whispered Jacks stopping in his tracks, his eyes frantically moving in his sockets as the idea echoed in his mind.

 

The old pro on the rodeo circuit was not a coward by birth but he could almost feel the yellow stripe appearing on his back.  Turk was an animal of a different sort and the man had the ability to quell any courageous thoughts with a single glance.   His eyes along with the rest of his body could be counted as deadly weapons for they could sentence you to death with one look.

 

Frightened at not knowing exactly why Turk had taken an interest in him, Jacks quickly blew out the lamp and hauled a worn oak chair to the door, propping it under the knob as an additional deterrent against any night visitors.  The only speck of color reflecting in the darkened room were the whites of his eyes as he sat huddled against the head board of the bed.

 

Each noise coming through the paper thin walls teased his nerves, each groaning of the ancient wood holding the hotel together raised the hairs on his neck.  Morning would be long in coming and Jackson Martin dreaded what the new day would bring under the scrutiny of Turk and his men.

 

The older man wrapped his arms around the knees drawn up to his chest and cringed at the wildly scattered thoughts, coming rapidly and forceful.   If a choice had to be made could he give up another man to save himself?  Could he betray the undercover pinkerton who probably was only using the guise of offered friendship to further his work?

 

Leaning his forehead on his knees, Jacks shivered and felt his stomach churning with a dreaded anticipation of what it all meant.  Lifting his head, the barrel chested man grabbed his valise from under the bed.  Opening the bag and putting his personals inside, he opened the window and climbed out onto the balcony.

 

 

 

The moonless sky deepened the shadows of the night as Deputy Billy Mayfield left the jail behind.  Heading down the boardwalk in the direction of the boarding house he resided in, the brown haired man waited til he approached an area of pitch blackness.  Out of the faint light coming from the windows of the businesses still open, the deputy stepped into an alley skirting some debris.  Patiently working his way past the back of the buildings, he stopped at the edge of the street.

 

Staying in the dark shadow which merged with the building on his left side, the young eyes studied the small house which was quiet and dark.  He couldn’t see the man Fred had told him would be around and after a moment, he walked across the small expanse of open area to approach the back door.  Raising his hand to knock, Billy stilled at the gun which suddenly poked his back.

 

“Something I can do for you, mister?” asked a deep male voice in his right ear.

 

“The sheriff sent me.” answered Billy in a low voice, keeping his tone down to prevent drawing any unwanted attention.  “I’m Deputy Mayfield.”

 

Keeping his eyes forward, Billy felt more than he saw the man reach around to push open the door before prodding him to move forward into the small house.  Stepping into the room, he waited and narrowed his eyes at a lantern’s turned up harsh light.  He nodded to the slender woman who appeared from another room.

 

“Ma’am.” greeted Billy turning red at the low chuckle from the man who stood against the wall.

 

Shaking her head, the brunette smiled and gestured for the deputy to sit, “Never mind him, deputy, he’s unaccustomed to politeness.  I’m Kate Warne and this is Mickey Flanagan.  I presume you are Billy Mayfield.”

 

“Yes’m.” stated Billy, sitting in the chair he was directed to.  “Sheriff Maden said you were looking for someone who was familiar with the town people to help in your investigation.”

 

“As you are no doubt aware, we have one of our men undercover and it’s our job to provide any assistance he needs as well as backup.” informed Kate.  “Have you met Agent Thomson yet?”

 

“I have.” said Billy.  “I arrested him tonight.”

 

“Good.” replied Kate as she looked over to her fellow agent.  “So far, so good, Mickey.”

 

“Let’s cross our fingers and hope the rest goes according to plan, Kate.  The sooner we’re done with this the better.  This is the longest anyone’s been undercover and I just want it done.” admitted the brown haired agent.  “Besides he owes me a few beers when we get home and I don’t plan on letting him forget it.”

 

Billy listened  to the two pinkertons discuss the plans for the rest of the evening before Mickey left the kitchen.  After hearing the sound of the front door closing, he looked at the auburn haired woman studying him intently.

 

“Ma’am, what exactly do you need me to do?” queried Billy.

 

“The gold shipment is coming in three days from now, Deputy.” stated Kate.  “Usually it’s brought in by railcar but this time it’s coming by freight train.  Some of the men will be replaced with pinkertons but the majority will work for the freight company.”

 

“Does the freight company know there’ll be pinkertons riding along?” asked Billy, his heart pounding wildly in his chest from the idea of working with the elite detective agency.

 

“Only one man in the company does.  It is not prudent for too many to know for it causes great risk.” informed Kate.  “Your job is to meet the gold train and bring it into Stockton.  We know Turkelson has a contact somewhere in Stockton but haven’t been able to figure who it is yet.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Because he convinced the rodeo organizer to move up the rodeo here in Stockton by two weeks.  There’s only one reason for him to do such a thing and it’s because of what he can gain.” answered Kate, coughing suddenly into her handkerchief.  “Excuse me.”

 

Studying the pale face before him, Billy hesitatingly questioned, “Are you okay, ma’am?  You don’t look well.”

 

“I am fine, deputy.” assured Kate brushing back a stray hair over her ear.  “We’re fairly certain the contact will want to ensure the gold arrives and make sure he gets his take of the job.  I need you to guard the gold and watch for any town citizen who appears to be acting out of character once it gets here.  You would be able to pick up on it better than us since this is your territory.”

 

“I’ll do my best, ma’am.” promised Billy firmly.

 

Nodding, Kate pushed herself up from the chair and turned to go after advising the deputy where he could sleep.  Stopping at the door, she looked back at the young man sitting at the table.

 

“I’m not sure why Heath’s name puts that look in your eyes, deputy but if you’re not willing to protect his back as much as you are the gold…. you can go on home.  I don’t want any lives jeopardized because of personal feelings or personality clashes.”

 

“I know what’s expected of me, ma’am.” stated Billy positively.  “I’m a lawman and will do my job regardless of my own thoughts.  You can count on me.”

 

Nodding, Kate turned and left the kitchen, heading to the bedroom.  Laying on the quilt, the auburn haired woman pulled an extra blanket over herself and fought off the fears weaving into her mind of the upcoming days.

 

 

 

Chapter 21

 

Nick clenched his jaw as he slowly pulled the black shirt onto his right shoulder.  The muscles in his back rippled and tugged on the stitches protected by the wrapping secured around his waist.  Taking in a breath and letting it out with a hiss, the strong fingers shook slightly as they worked the ebony buttons into their slots.

 

He’d woken to a room absent of hovering and guilt ridden eyes for which he was thankful.  He didn’t know if he’d have the stamina at the moment to fight both Jarrod and the clothing he was finding painstakingly difficult to put on.  Walking stiff legged over to his dresser, he ran a comb through the wavy dark locks, finding himself studying his own face for several minutes.

 

Hazel eyes scrutinized what the rest of the world saw looking back from the mirror.  The forehead furrowed with a frown, the specks of green in his hazel eyes under heavy brows, high cheek bones on either side of his angular nose, his lips set above a chin which spoke of strength and character.  His skin was tanned by the outdoor life he’d taken to as if it was what he was destined to do and shadowed by a growth of fine whiskers.

 

The prominent rancher didn’t even question why he was doing it, only feeling more confused and puzzled at what he couldn’t see looking back at him.  He just couldn’t see a resemblance with the younger man who Jarrod firmly believed was a brother from the documents he described in the folder.   The blond’s looks were so different from his own, so opposite of him and Jarrod, yet, similar in coloring to Audra who took after their father’s brother in similarities.

 

Jarrod stood quietly in the doorway, leaning a shoulder against the frame and watching his brother with open curiosity.  Surprisingly, he had found himself doing almost the very same thing during his time in the water closet after freshening up from a night of restless sleep in the chair by Nick’s bed.  He couldn’t see a physical resemblance to Heath Thomson either.  Thinking back on the man they’d come to know two years earlier, Jarrod sensed the similarities between them would be further down than just skin deep.  It would be inside where it was more important, more vital.

 

“Nick.” said Jarrod quietly, not wanting to startle his concentrating brother but did nonetheless.

 

“Damn Jarrod.” groaned Nick letting a flash of pain spring across his face after he’d turned too sharply at the speaking of his name and felt a searing jolt on his injured back.  “Don’t do that!”

 

“Sorry.” apologized Jarrod with a small smile.  “Why did I bother to think you would follow the doctor’s orders and stay in bed?”

 

Snorting, Nick rolled his eyes while he grabbed his hat and gunbelt before crossing over to his big brother, “This ranch doesn’t run itself, Jarrod.  I got things to take care of.”

 

Nodding and stepping into the hallway, Jarrod fell in step beside his brother and admitted with a sigh, “There’s nothing wrong with letting Duke handle things today, Nick.  It won’t mean you’re weak if you need to take the day off.”

 

Scowling, Nick turned and stopped his older brother with a hand on his arm, “Why would I take the day off when I’m just a little bruised?  It’s no different than coming home after a hard day and having sore muscles.”

 

“Mother might need us to be home today, Nick.” suggested Jarrod tentatively.

 

Letting his hand fall from his brother’s arm, Nick took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, “I…uh…I….just can’t see it Jarrod when I look in the mirror.  He doesn’t look anything like any of us except Audra and only then, it’s just his hair color.”

 

“Nick, trust me when I say he’s our brother.” replied Jarrod with a firm voice, keeping the hazel eyes locked on his.  “I know what’s in the file isn’t enough for you, but it’s enough for me.”

 

Slapping his hat against his jean covered leg several times, Nick shrugged, “I believe you believe, Jarrod, that Thomson’s our father’s…son.  I like proof that I can feel with my hands or that hits me in the face.  From what you’ve described, it’s all circumstantial.  Initials on a birth certificate, a letter from someone signing it as Tom and some writing on the back of a photograph which I gotta tell you anyone could have put there.  I tried Jarrod, I really did but…”

 

“If you want to look at it without an open mind, I can’t help that!” snapped Jarrod quickly causing the hazel eyes to flash angrily before he offered a slight grin.  “I’m sorry, Nick I didn’t mean to snap.  I’m a little short tempered from waking up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

 

Nodding, Nick felt his anger die down and squeezed the shoulder of his big brother, smirking into the blue eyes, “That’s what you get for trying to play nursemaid all night, Jarrod.  You’re not as young as you used to be.  Too many nights spent sleeping in a nice soft bed instead of out under the stars will do that to a man.”

 

Chuckling, the first born flashed a wide grin of agreement before they continued their slow walk down the hallway, descending the staircase and turning to head to the dining room.  Taking turns, both brothers greeted their sister with a kiss on the cheek before sitting in their assigned seats.  Audra brushed off their questions at the lack of sleep showing in her eyes from a night where her mind wouldn’t settle down and let dreams take over.

 

“Will Mother be joining us, Audra?” questioned Jarrod pouring cups of coffee for Nick and himself.

 

“I’m not sure.” responded the blonde in a worried voice.  “She didn’t answer this morning when I knocked on her door.  How are you feeling, Nick?”

 

“I’m fine, princess.” reassured Nick with a smile before winking over his cup.  “I won’t be breaking any broncs today.”

 

Audra let out an exasperated sigh before shaking her finger at the grinning man across the table, “And I’d best not hear one whisper of you doing such a foolish thing anytime soon, big brother!”

 

“Audra, you take all the fun out of everything.” chided Nick with a quick flash of white teeth, his sister reminding both men of their mother at the moment.

 

“Well, if I’m not careful your sister will take up my job.” stated Victoria overhearing the conversation of her children as she walked into the dining room.

 

Standing up at the sound of their mother’s voice, both sons visibly flinched at the strain showing on her face and the red rimmed eyes before greeting her with a tender kiss on her silken cheek.  Taking her seat at the head of the table, Victoria reached over and squeezed Audra’s hand, smiling gently at her daughter whose face was shadowed with worry.

 

“You look tired, Mother.” pointed out Audra reaching over to keep hold of the hand on hers.

 

“It was a…long night.” admitted Victoria withdrawing her hand to take up the cup of coffee poured by Jarrod taking a grateful sip of the heart pumping drink before asking,  “How are you boys feeling today?”

 

“Fine, Mother.” answered both of her sons in unison causing the silver haired matriarch to shake her head from side to side for a moment at the automatic responses.

 

“We were concerned about you, Mother.” stated Jarrod looking at the petite lady who sat staring into her cup for a moment.

 

“I’m fine, Jarrod.” sighed Victoria absently, her mind leaving the dining table for a moment.

 

“Mother?” prodded Nick casting a quick glance to his big brother who sported a look of fear on his face and the rancher was certain it matched his own expression.

 

Glancing up and startled for a moment at the frightened expression on the faces of her children meeting her eyes, Victoria forced a smile to take over her down turned lips and replied, “I’ll be heading into town this morning, Nicholas.  Please have Ciego ready the buggy.”

 

“Mother, may we ask why?” queried Jarrod stopping Nick’s protests with a single glance.

 

“I need to see someone.” informed Victoria in a low voice, slightly cracking under the emotional strain left over from the night before laying her napkin across her lap with a hand suddenly trembling.

 

“You can’t see him, Mother.” advised Jarrod, hesitating slightly. “He’s working …”

 

Snapping her head up, Victoria’s gray eyes flashed in disagreement and her clipped words rang out in the dining room, “I don’t recall asking your permission, Jarrod.”

 

“Mother, he’s in jail.” supplied Nick quickly hoping to sooth the tension and his words caused both women at the table to gasp outwardly.

 

“Why?” demanded both women loudly.

 

 

 

Chapter 22

 

The room filled with two voices bursting out with questions and demands for answers.  The mother and daughter stared with stunned eyes at the two brothers sharing the table with them, their high pitched voices screeching out at the same time.

 

“Just give us a minute to explain, Mother.” stated Jarrod raising his voice at the two women who were demanding an explanation with nonstop words flying between themselves.

 

Nick winced for his big brother when Jarrod was forced to raise the volume of his voice to override the puzzled anxious females seated at the table.  The rancher felt a moment of awe for the spontaneous bravery his brother exhibited before the awe gave way to remorse.  He could still remember the last time he raised his voice to his mother and the look of disappointment in her eyes at her less than respectful son had the ability to cut him in two.  That look was able to give him nightmares if he dwelled on it too long.  Shaking off the feelings of disappointment he once caused in his mother’s eyes from his shoulders, Nick calmly picked up his cup taking a sip before adding his two bits into the rapid fire conversation.

 

“Mother, he’s working undercover and we have to pretend like we don’t know him.” stated Nick in a factual tone of voice.  “He’s here to protect the gold shipment coming in.”

 

“WHAT?” shouted Jarrod jumping to his feet, suddenly grabbing at the ribs speaking loud and clear to him.  “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING?  HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS?  NICK!”

 

Shrugging, Nick offered a small smile and stammered, “Guess I forgot…alright!  I..was so mad…about him making me eat the dirt in the livery after he took me down, I didn’t think about it!”

 

“Heath Thomson bested you?” gasped Audra in a shrilly voice, her illusions of her Herculean brother falling away before her eyes and reality of a man with limitations took their place instead.  “How’d he do that?  Did he ambush you?”

 

“No, he didn’t ambush me!” snapped Nick towards his sister before scowling at Jarrod who was staring open mouthed at him with one hand supporting his ribs and the other resting on the table.  Taking his eyes from his brother who he stunned into silence, Nick turned to take a peek at his mother who was quiet and frowning at his revelation.

 

“You fought with your brother in the livery?  How many fights did you get into yesterday, Nicholas?” questioned Victoria watching her unconscious words turn all three of her children’s faces towards her with shock clearly in their eyes.

 

Shifting under the weight of her stare, Nick stammered, “Just two, Mother, I swear.”

 

Victoria raised an eyebrow and shook her head before gesturing for Jarrod to retake his place.  Letting out a slow breath, she found the spoken title she gave to Heath Thomson had seemed to slip out naturally despite the sharp pain in her heart it caused and she pondered on that for a moment before her chin lifted.

 

“Nicholas, you really must learn to vent your temper in other ways.  Though I must admit I’m somewhat relieved at least both times were in a barn and not in a house.  I’m sure you remember the last time you fought in a house, Nicholas.  I still can’t look at your Aunt Jane without seeing the look on her face when you and your cousin broke her great grandmother’s vase.”

 

Turning red at the giggle coming from his sister at the strapping down, Nick shot her a glare before nodding, “Yes, ma’am.  I’m sorry, Mother.”

 

Satisfied she got her point across, Victoria picked up her knife to butter the piece of toast on her plate, glancing up at feeling eyes on her silver head.  Three faces stared at her with open curiosity and questions.  Taking in a deep breath, she set her knife down and wiped her hands on the linen napkin in her lap.

 

“Yes, he is your brother.” admitted the grand lady with a trembling smile, bowing her head to furiously blink her eyes against the tears coming again.

 

“Mother, I still don’t believe it.” stated Nick in a low voice.  “Anyone could have come up with those documents, Mother.  Anyone with enough resources.”

 

“Nick!” hissed Jarrod banging his hand on the table.  “Just open your eyes!”

 

“Now just a damn…sorry…minute.” blustered Nick at the swear word slipping out in front of his mother and sister.

 

Audra sat back in her chair watching the events before her with wide eyes and the blonde hungered to know the details of the information in the reappearing file folder.  Nibbling on a piece of dry toast, her blue eyes moved from one participant’s face to another.

 

“Not the picture, Nicholas.  That was missing years ago, long before Heath Thomson came to Stockton.” supplied Victoria in a quiet voice brushing at her eyes with the back of her hand.  “When your father was part owner in the mine at Strawberry, he was gone for several months and only came back once during that time.  I didn’t think much of it then when the picture came up missing but now it makes perfect sense.”

 

“You think he took the picture when he came back that one time, Mother?” prodded Jarrod in a soft voice.

 

“Yes, it had to be then.” admitted the silver haired matriarch forcing the tightening of her throat to disappear and straightening her shoulders unconsciously as if ready to meet another gladiator in battle.  “And the ink on the letter is faded over time but I knew it was your father’s signature right away.  He knew….her….Heath Thomson’s mother.”

 

“Mother, I know you want to see him but you can’t.” offered Jarrod in a regret filled voice.  “He’s working undercover and we could jeopardize everything.”

 

“We could put him in danger?” suggested Victoria meeting the eyes of her first born son who shook his head positively.  “I see….but Jarrod we have to talk to him…tell him we know he didn’t lie to us.”

 

“Why, Mother?” asked Nick in a shaky voice, his heart thundering loudly at the breakfast conversation and uncovered truths.  “He doesn’t want anything to do with us and I can’t really blame him cause of last time.”

 

“Because we…I…was cruel and vicious to him last time.” pointed out Victoria dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her napkin.  “I need to let him know I was wrong.  He did nothing wrong and I had no right to lay my hand on him.  He’s your father’s son.  What more is there to it?”

 

 

 

Chapter 23

 

Jarrod rolled his eyes when Nick once again fidgeted on the bench seat of the surrey.  The rancher had reluctantly given into his mother’s concerns of riding his favorite horse Coco into town and had bit the bullet to ride in the surrey.  The man who took life by storm was having a difficult time keeping his excessive energy bottled up inside on the drive in.

 

Several people casually glanced at the familiar men in the surrey only to do a double take as they passed.  After the first occurrence of looks, Nick relegated to ignoring the bystanders with a dark scowl plastered on his face.  Jarrod imagined to the citizens of their town, they no doubt were a sight as he directed the surrey down the main street of Stockton.  Both of them were sporting the bruises on their faces of their clashing the night before.

 

Jarrod tapped Nick on his left leg and spoke as his brother turned to face him, “That tall man headed to the jail is the one Heath was playing poker with, Nick.  I’m betting he’s the one they’re after.”

 

Nick’s eyes had no problems finding the man Jarrod was indicating for he towered over those around him by several inches.  The hairs on his neck stood up in irritation at the man who sauntered down the wood walk as if he owned it not deviating from his path but forcing any others to move out of the way.  He knew the irritation was irrational for he didn’t know the man but he could sense the arrogance in him at this distance.

 

“Mr. Barkley.” called Turk stopping at the surrey which pulled abreast of where he stopped on the boardwalk.  “We meet again.”

 

Jarrod reached across Nick to shake the offered hand, “Stockton is not such a large town that we wouldn’t have met at one time, Mr. Turk.  This is my brother, Nick.”

 

“Jediah Turkelson.” stated the giant with a nod as he scrutinized the bruised faces of both men.  “You boys run into something?”

 

“A little family disagreement.” replied Nick fighting to keep his instant dislike of the man down and out of his eyes.

 

“Are you going to the jail to see Mr. Thomson?” asked Jarrod internally kicking himself at the narrowing of the larger man’s eyes.  “Our foreman was in the Golden Palace last night and told us about the fight.  Sounds like there was quite a bit of damage and I thought I’d offer my assistance if he needed it.  I’m a lawyer.”

 

“Oh, I see.” said Turk breaking out into a relaxed smile at the explanation.  “Yeah, I’m on my way there to see if we can spring him yet.  Can’t have my best competitor behind bars come rodeo day.”

 

Nick bit the inside of his cheek at the deep chuckle coming from the large chest of Turk and nodded in a show of agreement before climbing out of the surrey.  Stepping onto the boardwalk, he felt himself bristle at the mass of man before Jarrod appeared and directed the green eyes towards him.

 

“Mr. Thomson will have to appear in front of the judge before they release him.” instructed Jarrod as he fell in step beside Turk with Nick slowly following.  “He’ll be fined for starting the fight and will also have to pay for the damages incurred.  It may add up to quite a bit of money.”

 

“That’s what I figured.” admitted Turk as they reached the door to the jail.

 

Fred looked up at the opening of the door and moved around his desk.  Nodding to the men, the sheriff questioned, “Are you three here to see my lone prisoner?”

 

“They are.” informed Nick gesturing to Jarrod and Turk. “I’m here to see Billy, Fred.  He around?”

 

Shaking his head negatively, Fred stated, “No, I’m afraid he’s not Nick.  I had to send him to Modesto to escort a prisoner back to Stockton.”

 

“When’s he coming back?” asked Nick with a frown.

 

“Not til the beginning of the week probably.” answered Fred before looking at the others waiting patiently.  “I didn’t realize you knew Mr. Thomson, Jarrod.”

 

“I met him on the train from San Francisco.” offered Jarrod.

 

“Big brother here thought he could drum up some business by visiting the jail.” smirked Nick taking a seat on the edge of Fred’s desk while Turk chuckled and Jarrod pointedly ignored the jib.

 

“Duke told us about the fight and I thought I’d see if I could be of any help.”

 

“I’m here to bail him out.” offered Turk with a friendly grin.

 

Taking the key to the holding area, Fred nodded, “You can come back and talk to him for now.  He’s going in front of the judge at nine.  Not much either of you can do til then.”

 

Opening the door, Fred lead the way to the cell where the blond was sitting on the narrow cot reading a week old Stockton paper.  “You got some visitors, Thomson.”

 

Lowering the newspaper, Heath grinned at Turk and winked, “If I stay in here, you might have a good shot at winning.”

 

“Very funny, Con.” grinned Turk shaking the hand which appeared between the bars and watching as the blond’s eyes widened at the bruises on the face beside him.  “He’s a lawyer in case you need one.  Course he’s a little worse for wear than last time we saw him.”

 

“Boy howdy, guess you could say that, Turk.  Did you win or lose, Mr. Barkley?” queried the blond curiously.

 

“Let’s say it was a draw.” stated Jarrod with a small smile sensing the younger man knew without telling him what the fight was about.  “I’m here to offer my services for when you appear in front of the judge.”

 

“For a bar fight?” snorted Heath with a negative shake of his head.  “It’s not the first time and surely won’t be the last one I’ll be in.  I’ll just pay what they want for causing the ruckus and be on my way.”

 

Turk cleared his throat and drew the blond’s eyes to him, lifting a large shoulder in a shrug.  “The damage at the Golden Palace totals fifteen hundred, Con.”

 

“Fifteen…fifteen hundred!  Dollars?” exclaimed Heath blustering over his words.  “For a few tables!”

 

“Thomson, I told you last night it was more than just a few tables.” interjected Fred in exasperation.  “The place was destroyed.”

 

“Fifteen hundred!” shouted the blond angrily.  “That’s highway robbery, sheriff!  What the hell are those tables made out of?  Gold?”

 

“I’m sure the management at the Golden Palace will supply an accounting of everything which was damaged, Mr. Thomson.” offered Jarrod.  “If you’re unable to come up with the money, I could speak with them to work out an arrangement.”

 

“An arrangement?” repeated Heath with a blank stare.  “I don’t got time to work it off, Mr. Barkley.  I have a rodeo in three days!”

 

“You don’t have to work it off, Con.” replied Turk with a wide smile at the blond’s confused look.  “I took care of it for you.  You can pay me back the next time you win.”

 

“Turk, that’s…wow…that’s awful generous of you.  But I only have five hundred  and it could take a while to get you the rest.” scowled Heath not surprised when the large man shook his head.

 

“Hey, what are friends for!” stated Turk enthusiastically.  “I’ll see you at the courthouse and we’ll talk about it later.”

 

“Sure, Turk.  See you later and thanks.” replied Heath in a dazed voice as he watched the large man make his way to the office, bidding someone goodbye before the front door closed.

 

Fred walked to the doorway and called back, “He’s gone.”

 

“Hook, line and sinker.” stated the pinkerton with a smile to his fellow lawman before the grin faded and he turned his attention to Jarrod.

 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

 

 

 

Chapter 24

 

The harsh voice echoed through the holding cell area and the blond’s relaxed form turned rigid with tension from the man who stood in the small confined area.  Jarrod could feel the anger rising from the blond like the steam of a hot day meeting the cool ground of the earth.  He swore the air around the younger man was wavering and shimmering like the horizon in a desert.

 

“Heath, we need to talk.” said Jarrod walking closer to the metal bars and searching the hard blue eyes of the pinkerton agent.

 

“Sheriff, Mr. Barkley was just leaving.” commanded the blond turning his back and walking back to the cot, resuming his prior position with newspaper in hand.

 

“Heath, I know this is not the...”

 

“Now, sheriff!” snapped Heath, angrily flicking the paper to cut off his view of the man outside his cell.

 

Fred hesitated a moment, puzzled at the byplay between the two men before taking hold of Jarrod’s arm, tugging on the suit coat the attorney wore.  “Com’n Jarrod.  Time to go.”

 

Nodding reluctantly Jarrod allowed Fred to move him a couple feet before he stopped and looked into the cell, stating in a low voice, “We have things to discuss, Heath.  It’s very important you hear us out.”

 

Letting out a sigh of annoyance, the agent lowered the paper and met the conflicted darker blue eyes of the older man with a icy stare before replying, “The only thing’s important to me is finishing what I started four months ago and hearing anything you got to say ain’t it.  Don’t bother coming back, Mr. Barkley.  Any of you.”

 

The paper raised again to shield the face of the pinkerton agent and Jarrod stared for a minute at the thin barrier.  Shaking his head, the lawyer continued moving after Fred motioned him again towards the front office.  Nick sat on the edge of the desk, his forehead furrowed at the words he heard from the man who they’d denied of a fair hearing two years ago.  The rancher was surprised at the fear of the blond not allowing them a chance to redeem their past discretion rising within himself.

 

Meeting Jarrod’s eyes as he exited the holding area, Nick smirked, “I’d say he’s kind of stubborn, big brother.”

 

“Must be a family trait.” added Jarrod with a deep exhalation.

 

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nick grimaced at the tugging on his stitches and lowered his hands to his side.  “Can’t say I really blame him, Jarrod.  After everything.”

 

“I know, Nick.  Perhaps it’s not the best time anyway.  I don’t want to be responsible for jeopardizing his work or god forbid, his life.” sighed Jarrod.  “We’ll just have to explain it to Mother and Audra.  They’ll understand.”

 

“You’ll have to explain it.” said Nick nodding to Fred before heading to the door and throwing over his shoulder.  “This was your idea.”

 

“Thanks for your support, Nick.” stated Jarrod sarcastically as he followed his brother out of the sheriff’s office and onto the wood boardwalk.

 

Fred stared at the two brothers as they left before shifting his eyes to the door separating his office from the holding area.  The lawman couldn’t piece together in his head what was happening between the Barkleys and the pinkerton agent.

 

The clanging of the metal door brought the paper from in front of his face down and Heath tossed it to the end of the cot before running the fingers of both hands through his hair.  Cursing under his breath the undercover lawman leaned his head back and stared at the solidly built ceiling of the jail for several minutes while contemplating the words of Jarrod Barkley as he had turned to leave.

 

Shaking his head at the questions the parting words caused, he scowled and tired to force the man and the members of his family into the back corners of his mind.  Taking a deep breath, the pinkerton stood and paced the small cell, growing further agitated with the lawyer who could have jeopardized everything if Turk hadn’t believed his offering of help.

 

Twenty minutes passed before the inner door opened and Heath turned to see the other deputy enter with handcuffs.  “Time to go.”

 

“Are those really necessary, deputy?” asked the prisoner with a scowl.

 

“Yes, they are.” answered the deputy firmly and motioned for the blond to turn in his cell.

 

“Dammit, I’m not planning on running.  Don’t you think this is a bit extreme for a bar fight?”  questioned the blond, the morning’s agitation still riding on his shoulders.

 

“On your knees.” snapped the deputy placing his hand on his gun.  “Now!”

 

Glaring at the man for a moment, Heath turned and knelt on the floor of the small cell.  The key turned in the lock and he heard two footsteps before his left arm was roughly pulled back and the metal cuff tightened before his right arm was wrenched back then secured.  Biting back the angry words on the tip of his tongue, Heath climbed to his feet, assisted with a not so friendly tug by the deputy.  The pinkerton clamped his jaws shut deciding a word with the sheriff after this whole operation was over would be in order.

 

“Hey, where are we going?” asked Heath when the deputy lead him to the back door.

 

“Shut up.” growled the junior lawman, opening the door and casting a quick look outside before his prisoner pulled out of his hold to step back.

 

“What the hell is this?” demanded the blond sidestepping the deputy’s grab for his arm.  “I’m not going anywhere til you tell me what’s going on!”

 

“Just shut up or I’ll help you quiet down.” threatened the lawman.

 

Pulling his gun, the deputy flushed with anger at the low chuckle from his prisoner who taunted him, “Go ahead shoot me.  How are you gonna spin a bullet in me to the sheriff?”

 

“He won’t have to.” stated Turk from the back door, smiling into the surprised blue eyes before his left fist connecting with the blond’s jaw sent him across the room to land in a crumpled heap on the jail floor.  “Take the cuffs off.”

 

Taking off the metal wrist clamps, the deputy held them in his hand and frowned, “Now, he can’t go in front of the judge!  How am I gonna explain that bruise?”

 

“He got it in his escape attempt.” smirked Turk stepping closer.  “When he killed you.”

 

Young eyes widened with understanding and his mouth gasped at the searing pain in his chest from the knife in the giant’s hand.  Looking down, the deputy’s hand automatically found the opening in his body before he collapsed to his knees  then with a rolling of his eyes, fell onto his back beside his unconscious prisoner.

 

 

 

Chapter 25

 

Shifting slightly on the chair, Nick tapped his foot on the oak flooring in the office, his bundle of internal energy was straining to escape the tightly woven strands of twine keeping it locked together.   The rancher’s innate dislike for interior work in the confines of a four walled room increased his impatience and motivation for escape to the fresh wide open spaces of the outdoors.

 

The tapping, once inconsistent and sporadic, took on a clear rhythm known only to the owner of the foot.  Jarrod shot a glare at his brother while he tried to focus on finishing his review of the contract open on his desk.  The serenity of the environment was being harshly broken away by the black hide toe of the rancher’s boot.  Inhaling a breath at the movement he knew was unconscious by his brother, Jarrod furrowed his brow and returned his eyes to the legal document proposing a buy-out of the Barkley family shares in the Lodi mine.

 

Concentration and focus were everyday facets of his work except for today.  The unknown song and the man who would be standing before the judge in fifteen minutes were too heavy to overcome.  Letting out a loud frustrated sigh, Jarrod looked over at his brother who appeared to no problem concentrating on his own thoughts.

 

“Nick, can you please stop making that noise?” requested Jarrod, his words bringing puzzled hazel eyes to him.

 

“What noise?” asked Nick before he realized his foot was keeping a tempo of his own.  “Sorry, you done yet?”

 

“No but I give up.” admitted the attorney before closing the file.  “I can’t concentrate right now.   It’s best if I read this later.”

 

“Good, let’s get back to the ranch.” stated Nick pushing himself onto his feet. “I got things to take care of.”

 

Glancing towards the clock on his desk, Jarrod shrugged, “What’s the hurry, Nick?  Duke’ll take care of everything.”

 

“What’s the hurry?” repeated Nick in disbelief before scowling, “I’ve already wasted half the day in town, Jarrod!”

 

“Nick, that’s why we pay Duke a handsome salary.  To take care of the ranch when you can’t be there.” informed Jarrod calmly.  “Give the man a chance to earn his pay.”

 

“He earns his pay plenty.  Don’t worry about that.” replied Nick, hazel eyes  looking at his brother suspiciously for a few minutes.  “Don’t even think about it!”

 

“Think about what?” questioned Jarrod innocently, lifting a stray piece of string from his shirt sleeve.

 

Moving to stand in front of the desk, Nick placed his fists on the oak top and leaned forward, hissing out in a low voice.  “Didn’t you listen to one thing he said, Jarrod?  I heard him loud and clear from the outer office.“

 

“I heard his words.” snapped Jarrod before reaching up to run his hand through his hair and letting out a frustrated breath.  “Nick, he’s angry enough to leave without hearing us out and I don’t want to take a chance on that happening.”

 

The slight wavering in Jarrod’s voice stopped the words in him wanting to burst out like a geyser and Nick shook his head.  Straightening slowly, the dark haired rancher frowned before answering, “We may not have a choice Jarrod.  There’s always a chance someone from two years ago might put two and two together with each day he spends in town.  They may not remember Heath on his own as a pinkerton but if they saw him beside one of us, it might cause someone to remember.  If that happens it could start a chain reaction that’ll get someone killed.”

 

“I know, Nick. I am well aware of the consequences.” said Jarrod with a roll of his eyes before pushing back his chair and standing.

 

“No, I don’t think you do understand, Jarrod.” protested Nick loudly, banging his fist on the desk.

 

“I don’t want to have to live with his death on my conscience just cause we couldn’t stay away like he demanded.  It’s not only his life that’s on the line here.  What about the other pinkertons who might be with him or the people here in town?  We don’t know what’s going on or what they’re planning!  We could waltz into the middle of something and destroy everything.  We could get innocent people killed, Jarrod!”

 

The broad shoulders of the attorney lowered slightly and Jarrod nodded.  Turning to take his jacket from the coat tree, he shrugged into it before responding.  “I know you’re right, Nick.  I wish there was some guarantee we’d see him before he left town.  I’m sure as soon as they get who they’re after, Heath’ll leave Stockton without looking back.”

 

Patting the back of his brother as they walked to the door, Nick agreed, “If that happens, we’ll have to deal with it.  Til then we just have to wait it out, big brother.”

 

Locking his door, Jarrod looked up into Nick’s face when a large hand nudged him in the shoulder.  Following the hazel eyes looking down the street, Jarrod stared at the covered body being taken from the jail, his feet moving with Nick following.  Reaching the crowd of people, Jarrod weaved his way through and made his way to Fred’s side where he stood talking with Jediah Turkelson.

 

“Fred, what’s going on?” asked Jarrod, blue fearful eyes drifting to the covered body moving past to the undertaker’s further down the boardwalk.  “Is that Heath Thomson?”

 

“No, it’s my deputy Michael.” stated Fred, the age lines on his face seemed to have deepened since earlier in the morning.  “He’s been stabbed in the chest.”

 

“Did it happen when Thomson was in court?” questioned Nick meeting the green eyes watching them with open frankness.

 

“Michael didn’t show in court with Thomson like he was supposed to and I don’t know where the prisoner is.” said Fred with a negative shake of his head.  “The cot’s all busted up in the cell, the place is all messed up.  Looks to me like he killed Michael in an escape attempt.”

 

“What?” exclaimed both Barkley brother’s loudly, the disbelief of the lawman’s words showing in their eyes and faces.

 

“I have to round up a posse and do a search of the town.  I’ll see you boys later.” stated Fred entering his office after picking three of Stockton’s citizens from the crowd.

 

Turk shook his head and sighed, “I knew Con had a temper but never figured he’d do something like this.  It’s a shame, Mr. Barkley.  Truly a shame someone so young was murdered like that.”

 

Nodding to the two dark haired brothers, Turk turned and a smile lifted the corner of his lips as he worked his way through the crowd towards his hotel.  Looking at one another, Jarrod and Nick climbed up the steps and entered the jail standing off to the side as Fred swore in the three men.  Giving the three their directive, the lawman closed the door behind them and turned to the two brothers.

 

“What the hell is going on between you and Thomson?  Where the hell is he?”

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

Standing beside his desk, Fred watched a glance pass between the two brothers after his questions before Nick replied, “We don’t know where Thomson is.  Last thing we knew he was locked in his cell.”

 

Jarrod nodded in agreement with his brother’s words and questioned tentatively, “Fred you’re not working on the assumption Heath Thomson stabbed Michael Hicks, are you?”

 

Fred answered, “Until I find him and he can sway me otherwise, he’s my only suspect.”

 

“Why would he kill a deputy?  He had no reason to escape.” stammered Nick, the outrage clear in his hazel eyes.

 

“Michael’s dead and Thomson’s gone from his cell.  Those are the facts as they stand right now.” said Fred.

 

“Nick’s right, Fred.  What motive would Heath possibly have?” grilled Jarrod.  “It makes no sense for him to escape for just a fine.”

 

Shrugging, the older lawman frowned, “Maybe he’s after your gold himself.”

 

“Oh com’n, Fred!  The man’s a pinkerton agent!”  snapped Nick thrusting his hands on his hips and shaking his head.

 

“It wouldn’t be the first time a man lost his head when it came to gold, Nick.” suggested the sheriff, taking a seat on the corner of his desk.

 

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jarrod copied his brother’s negative head movement.  “Not this man, Fred.  I can’t see Thomson doing anything like that.”

 

“Well, I’m sorry boys but my hands are tied at the moment.” stated Fred firmly.  “I have to answer to the citizens of this town.  Do you want me to tell them don’t worry about one of your deputies receiving a knife in the chest cause our suspect is an undercover pinkerton?  Somehow, I don’t believe that’s a good idea.”

 

Scowling at the truth in their town protector’s words, Nick glanced over to Jarrod, meeting the concerned blue eyes of his big brother.  The rancher knew somehow deep inside the man from two years ago and the one he met again in the livery didn’t have an integrity which was tarnished.  Heath Thomson would not have fallen prey to the lure of the gold coming from Lodi for he wore his honesty and integrity like a shield.

 

“Jarrod, what if someone found out he was a pinkerton?” queried Nick, his stomach lurching as the thought formed in his head.

 

Fred watched the faces of the two men lose a touch of color underneath their bruises at the possible circumstance.  Jarrod swallowed the lump of anxiety rising in his throat and shook his head.

 

“No, I think they would have killed him outright, Nick.” said Jarrod, grasping at the declination of the blond’s possible demise, gesturing to the room around them.  “If they knew Heath was an agent, they could have killed him at any time.  This jail break doesn’t make sense.  I bet he’s still alive for some reason, but why?”

 

Pursing his lips, Fred met the eyes of both prominent members of their town and offered quietly, “For a man your family was mighty grateful to two years ago, Thomson sure doesn’t seem to like having you around, Jarrod.  Seems to me, I don’t remember this hostility between you all before.  As a matter of fact, when Billy found out he was the investigator of your father’s murder he wasn’t none too happy either.  Care to tell me why?”

 

Fred watched the two younger men glance quickly at each other before they met his gaze.  Jarrod slipped his thumbs into the small pockets of his vest before taking in a deep breath.

 

“Heath Thomson is related to us.” supplied Jarrod casually, the tightness in the lines around his mouth giving away the tension inside of him.

 

“A long-lost cousin?” asked Fred with a puzzled frown.

 

Nick cleared his throat to quip offhandedly.  “I guess you could say he was long-lost until just recently.”

 

“Uh huh….so, I reckon I can guess he’s not a cousin?” pushed Fred firmly watching Nick’s dark head shake from side to side.

 

“Fred, it’s a long story but Heath Thomson is….our brother.” answered Jarrod meeting the sheriff’s stunned eyes which darted between him and Nick.

 

“Your brother?” repeated the sheriff in disbelief, reaching up to rub his temples before scowling.  “In case you haven’t noticed, he doesn’t appear too happy about it boys.”

 

“We aim to change that, Fred.” stated Nick not aware of the smile lifting the corner of Jarrod’s mouth and the pride filling his eyes as he studied his little brother’s profile.  “But we can’t do that til we find out where Heath is and what the hell’s happened to him.”

 

 

 

The muffled sounds of someone moving became clearer and more distinct.  Moving his head, he felt hard, gritty particles beneath his face scrap lightly over his skin.  Trying to force his eyelids to open, Heath tried to move his arms and legs only to find there was no fluidity in his limbs.

 

Lifting his head a bit, he couldn’t stop the low moan at the stiffness in his neck and the flaring pain on his inflamed jaw.  Light blue eyes stared at the boots appearing near him and he tried to roll further onto his back, only to find he couldn’t move due to the ropes hog-tying his body into immobility.  The return to an awareness of what had happened also brought with it pain throughout his body.  The tightness of the bindings holding his wrists and ankles together burned deep into the muscles on his shoulders.  His legs were already numb and he wondered how long he’d been out.

 

“Welcome back, Agent Thomson.” smirked Daley Carson as he knelt beside the undercover pinkerton.

 

“Go to hell.” hissed Heath, his blue eyes flashing at the smirking criminal.

 

“You first, Con.  I’ll let you lead the way.” laughed Daley before standing and forcing the blond to struggle to keep him in view from his prone position on the filth covered floor of the abandoned shack.  “Turk wanted me to give you something after you woke to tide you over til he gets here.”

 

Watching the thin man with narrowed eyes, the pinkerton couldn’t react to dodge the boot which lashed out and connected with his head, sending him back into a blissful unawareness of pitch black.

 

 

 

Chapter 27

 

The quickly deputized trio of men returned back to the sheriff’s office empty handed and with no leads as to the escaped prisoner’s whereabouts. The three men, steady and solid citizens, returned with a cloud of failure surrounding them at their inability to bring back the dangerous criminal who’d taken the life of the young man who’d bravely put on a star to protect their town citizens.

 

Fred’s questioning of others working in the vicinity around the jail brought no leads or clues as to what had occurred. No one saw anything or heard anything out of the ordinary. The only signs in the area were some partial prints in the dry topsoil of the California ground at the back of the jail. The tracks were not distinctive due to the arid soil caused by the drought crippling their small part of the world. Jarrod and Nick’s stomachs twisted viciously at the abrupt end to the budding investigation. Both men wondered where their recently discovered brother was and what happened to cause the events which lead to his disappearance.

 

“He’s gone, Kate.” reported Mickey breathless after rushing to the rented house on the edge of town.

 

Staring at her fellow agent for a moment, the leader of the women agent’s took stock of the verbal report before speaking, “I thought you were watching him.”

 

“I was.” sighed Mickey with a regret filled voice. “He skipped during the night. Guess he climbed off the balcony.”

 

Glancing to the young deputy who stood against the counter, Kate pursed her lips in thought. The shock of learning of his peer’s early morning murder was still visible in the young man’s eyes.

 

“Deputy Mayfield, you’d best ride out to meet the gold train.” instructed the auburn haired agent not surprised at the immediate reaction she received.

 

“No, I’m going to join the sheriff in the man hunt.” announced Billy heading towards the door.

 

“I can assure you deputy, Agent Thomson had nothing to do with your fellow lawman’s death.” assured Kate in a firm low voice.

 

Turning, Billy’s hand clenched at his side and he stared at her in disbelief, “You can’t be sure of that! He was the only one in the jail. There was no one else!”

 

“Yes, it looks damaging but Heath wouldn’t be capable of what he’s accused of.” countered Mickey in defense of their missing friend. “You don’t know him like we do.”

 

“You’re right I don’t know anything about him except that he didn’t bother to show up for two years. He could’ve come back but he does it now when the Barkley’s biggest gold shipment is in danger?” quipped Billy. “Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

 

“What’s the Barkleys got to do with this?” demanded Mickey in confusion, glancing between Kate and the deputy.

 

Taking a breath, Kate let it out slowly and met her partner’s eyes. “Tom Barkley was Heath’s father, Mick. He discovered it during the investigation.”

 

“His father?” repeated the lean brown haired man before his face suddenly flushed and he asked in a voice strained with anger, “You knew and didn’t tell me?”

 

“It’s not my place to tell you Heath’s personal business, Mickey.” stated Kate calmly. “We are not member’s of a hen’s club specializing in gossiping. This is a world renown detective agency!”

 

Closing his mouth which had dropped open, the dark eyes cleared of their anger and he nodded, “You’re right, Agent Warne, sorry about that.”

 

“What’s important now is to find this Jacks fellow. He could be the key to everything.” said Kate.

 

“The key to what?” questioned Billy snidely. “To covering up a murder?”

 

Biting back the scathing retort at the suggestion and belligerent tone in the deputy’s words, Kate leaned over the table to glare in his eyes.

 

“The Pinkerton agency does NOT cover up murders. This Jacks finds out Heath is an undercover pinkerton and the next morning a deputy is killed during a supposed jail break. Now, the same man is nowhere to be found. He’s gone and so is our agent.” summarized Kate forcefully before shaking her head in denial. “It’s hinky, Deputy.”

 

“Hinky?” repeated Billy with a roll of his eyes. “Call it what you want, Agent Warne it still ends up the same. Your agent is out of jail and our deputy is dead!”

 

“You’d serve justice better by asking yourself some questions and coming up with some facts, Deputy Mayfield!” snapped Kate. “Situations aren’t always so black and white. I hope you’d investigate fully before condemning a man as quick as you are.”

 

Turning crimson at the reminder of his job responsibilities, Billy dropped his eyes from hers before asking, “What questions and facts are you speaking of, ma’am?”

 

“Mickey, would you please?” asked Kate lowering herself into a chair and coughing slightly into her handkerchief.

 

“One, Jacks is the only one who knew Heath was a pinkerton. Two, an agent of the law who hadn’t broken the law doesn’t need to escape from jail. Three, it was part of our plan for Heath to be arrested so he could check you out because he had reservations about using some town deputy in a sensitive investigation.”

 

Billy’s head snapped up in anger and Mickey calmly continued, “Four, he had absolutely no reason to escape jail if he wanted the gold shipment for himself because he knows everything about it. Five, if he wanted the gold bad enough, he had the inside knowledge to pull off a heist without anyone being the wiser. Those are the facts, Deputy Mayfield.”

 

The kitchen was quiet and the pinkerton’s words hung in the air. Kate watched the newest member to their team digesting the facts Mickey laid out for him.

 

“You forgot one important factor.” stated Billy, glancing at both agent’s before continuing.

 

“It has only been two years since Agent Thomson was last in Stockton. Perhaps in your zeal to get this gang you’ve been chasing you have unknowingly thrown this man you value so highly to the wolves. People remember faces and eventually can place maybe not a name but a circumstance to a face. Perhaps someone remembered him and the wrong people overheard.”

 

“That is a possibility for his sudden disappearance.” admitted Kate quietly.

 

“If you value him so highly, why’d you take the risk?” queried Billy before adding. “He should’ve been replaced by another agent.”

 

“Heath was in deep into this investigation and to replace him this late in the game would have put us back at square one. The pros outweighed the cons, Deputy and Agent Thomson knew the risk of returning to Stockton.” informed Kate before a soft smile graced her face as she remembered the blond who was like a little brother to her.

 

“There was never a question for him to pull out simply because we were getting close to Stockton, Billy. It was important to Heath that he find a way to stop these men. He put himself at risk just as all of us do in the course of our jobs. Society depends on us and to Heath, the people entrusted to him are well for lack of a better word…sacred.”

 

Shaking his head in wonder, Billy mumbled, “Hoping no one would recognize him was a mighty big gamble if you ask me.”

 

“Perhaps it was a gamble but until we find our agent, we won’t know if we’ve lost or not.” suggested Kate before standing and taking in the eyes of both men. “We will proceed as previously planned. Everything’s in place and we need to ride it to the end.”

 

 

 

He’d woken from his blissful oblivion to find himself alone in the small wooden shack. The side of his face burned and moving his jaw sent waves of agony from the side of his chin to the top of his head. Hissing in a breath, he struggled to open his left eye and found it was closed shut. Moving slightly, he gasped out loud at the pain from the strain in his shoulders drawn back tightly in the unnatural state. He couldn’t feel the lower half of his body from the leather bindings holding his ankles to his wrists. Pushing his unbruised temple into the dirty particles on the floor, Heath shuddered in agony when he tried to work on the straps locking his wrists behind his back.

 

Crying out at the searing stab of pain in his shoulder, he took several breaths to fight the bright flashes of lights appearing in his eyes. The desire to free himself was a powerful instinctive reaction similar to a wolf who chews off his leg when caught in a trap. His mind was willing but his body was unable to conjure up the resources to free itself. Gasping for air through his opened mouth, he coughed at the dust which found its way into his airway. The pain from the natural reaction left tears escaping from his tightly closed eye for several minutes.

 

From his view of the situation as he lay on the filth covered floor, he knew he was in trouble and help was nowhere near.

 

 

 

Chapter 28

 

Neither of the men wanted to leave town without word of Heath’s whereabouts, however, Jarrod could tell by the drawn lines on Nick’s face his back injury was bothering him more than he cared to admit.  As much as he longed to know the circumstances of what occurred at the jail earlier this morning, Jarrod knew it was also his responsibility to look out for the brother who was with him.  It’d taken less fast talking than he anticipated and to the reader of people it was another sign Nick also suspected he wasn’t physically up to a longer stay in Stockton.

 

The departure from town was subdued and each man was occupied with his own thoughts.  The warmth in the noon day sun couldn’t chase away the chill inside neither man.  Both may have been surprised to find their thoughts were similar in regards to the blond they were anxious to speak with.  Both suddenly felt the past two years of wasted time and their hearts labored in their chest under the weight of guilt.

 

“Jarrod?”

 

“Yes, Nick?”

 

“It took guts to face all of us with what he found not knowing what we would do or handle it.  He took a chance two years ago.”  stated Nick in a quiet voice before shaking his head and continuing.  “Do you think he’ll give us another chance when we find him?”

 

Letting out a sigh, Jarrod glanced sideways to the man by his side, “I don’t know, Nick, from what he said this morning….I wouldn’t count on it.”

 

“Yeah, that’s just what I was thinking.” Admitted Nick.  “It doesn’t look good.”

 

“No, it doesn’t.” agreed Jarrod softly.

 

Turning his face to watch the scenery passing by, Nick grimaced and shifted on the seat.  The wound in his back from the wood piece was tender and the area around it felt bruised.  As hard as it was to acknowledge, the rancher was looking forward to getting home so he could be free of the surrey whose wheels seemed to hit every stone on the road.  Letting his thoughts shift in order to take his mind off the discomfort in his back, Nick frowned and turned slowly to face his older brother.

 

“Jarrod, what if that big guy…what was his name?”

 

“Turk.” Supplied Jarrod glancing into his brother’s anxious hazel eyes.

 

“What if he found out Heath was a pinkerton.” suggested Nick.  “Maybe he staged the jail break to find out what Heath knows about the gold shipment?”

 

“That could be what happened.” Agreed Jarrod with a nod before adding, “I would imagine the other pinkertons have also considered that, Nick.  They may very well be keeping tabs on Turk as we speak.  If he’s their prime suspect and that’s the reason for Heath being missing, Turk could lead them right to Heath.”

 

Letting out a grunt of frustration, Nick banged his fist on the bench seat, “I don’t like this at all.  How are we gonna help Heath if we don’t even know if there’s other agents in town or what they know?  There’s too many damn questions and not enough answers!”

 

Stopping the surrey, Jarrod met his brother’s questioning eyes and queried with a small smile, “Nick, what is the common piece of this puzzle?”

 

“The gold!” exclaimed Nick receiving a nod of affirmation.

 

“Exactly.” Stated Jarrod firmly.  “What if these men already know about the gold shipment?  What if they didn’t take Heath for information but for some sort of distraction for the law?”

 

“Or worse, Jarrod.” suggested Nick, his eyes widening as his mind was thinking.  “What if they took him for insurance?  They wouldn’t care what shape he was in as long as he was alive.  A dead man has no value but a live one…..”

 

“We need to contact Paul and see if he’ll let me ride with the gold.” Said Jarrod with a sickening feeling in his stomach at what his brother suggested.

 

“You?  What about me?” countered Nick.

 

Shaking his head negatively, Jarrod reached over and squeezed the shoulder of his brother.  “You’re hurt worse than I am, Nick.   You can barely ride in the surrey let alone try to catch a train before it reaches town.  Besides you and Paul mix as well as water and kerosene.  I might stand a better chance of getting him to tell me where I can meet the train.”

 

The slump in the broad shoulders indicated Nick knew he was defeated by his big brother’s logic and he hesitated before muttering.  “If Paul didn’t wield his holding the majority of the shares in the mine like a red flag at me, we wouldn’t have any problems.  Just cause he owns sixty percent of the mine doesn’t mean he has to be so damn arrogant.  What makes you think he’ll tell you about the delivery schedule?”

 

Shrugging, Jarrod sighed, “I don’t know if he will, Nick but at least this is something we can try from our end.  We’re not really interfering since we own part of the gold.”

 

“It’s our right as owners to see our best interests are protected.” Smiled Nick before his face drained of the sudden burst of happiness.  “Jarrod, the only interests of ours I’m concerned about is Heath.  They can have the gold as long as we get him back.”

 

“Same here, brother Nick.  Same here.” Agreed Jarrod turning and starting the surrey forward with a flick of the reins.

 

 

 

Jacks cursed his luck again for the hundredth time since he’d fled in the middle of the night from Stockton.  Unfamiliar with the outlying areas from the town, he bedded down his horse in a grove of trees and rested his weary body.  The morning sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead woke him and he quickly saddled his horse.  He wanted to put Turk and this town far behind him.  Whatever came of the battle between Turk and the Pinkerton was none of his business.  He had no desire to get caught between them and be forced to take sides.  All he wanted was to continue his life in the same manner he’d always done.  Watch out for himself and mind his own business.

 

Why didn’t he just head the other way when he saw Turk’s man, Daley Carson, riding towards him with another horse in tow?  Why didn’t he just close his eyes from his hidden spot along the trail and not pay attention to the unconscious man who was tied into the saddle?  Why didn’t he head south instead of north?

 

All those questions hammered at his mind while he waited then followed the man who had Heath Thomson tied firmly into the saddle.  It  was an automatic movement on his part to follow behind the two men.  He hadn’t even realized this was exactly why he’d run from town last night until he stopped at the bottom of a small hill Carson had gone over.  Tying his horse to a bush, the barrel chested rodeo rider climbed the hill and shimmied forward on his stomach.  Lying down he watched Daley cut the ropes and push the unconscious agent off the side of the horse before leisurely dragging him inside a small shack.   Moving back down the hill, he rode around the natural contours of the landscape and made his way cautiously to a stand of overgrown brush and trees where he could keep the shack in view.

 

Jacks was in a quandary, torn between right and wrong, his conscience and his fears.  It was a struggle between good and evil, between helping and turning his back.  These types of conflicts were waged everyday in people and they were times which showed a person who they were deep inside.

 

Cursing again under his breath, the bald headed man turned to leave and again was stopped by the little voice inside his head.  The little voice was badgering him, taunting him with his cowardice by wishing to avoid what he knew to be the right thing to do.  Groaning to himself, Jacks turned back around and banged his clenched fist against the tree trunk in frustration before taking a breath to calm himself.

 

“Dammit!” mumbled Jacks before rubbing his chin nervously, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to come up with a plan on how to approach the shack.  He wanted to get it over with before any of Turk’s other men or Turk himself showed.  The longer he waited the greater the chance he would be discovered.  Finally making his decision, the rodeo man made his way back to his horse and mounted.

 

 

 

Daley Carson sat at the table and ignored the single eye watching his every movement from the floor.  Moving a black jack to a red queen, he flipped over the ace of spades and held it up for the pinkerton to see.

 

“Hey, it’s the death card.” Smirked the tall man before placing the card on the table.  “That’s not a good sign.”

 

“For you.” Added Heath from the floor where he was trussed up and unable to move.  “You’re a dead man, Daley.”

 

Laughing at the words of the pinkerton, Daley shook his head in amusement, “You don’t even know when you’re beat, Con.  Turk has everything covered and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

 

“Turk thinks he has everything covered.” Taunted the agent from his place in the floor, his words over the past hour since Daley returned to the cabin were carefully selected and slowly interjecting a slight whisper of doubt in the other man’s mind.  “You’ll see when you’re spending the rest of your life in prison.”

 

Slapping the deck he held onto the table, Carson stood up and pushed back the chair in anger.  Reaching the tied up man in three strides, he relished the gasp of pain when he kicked the agent in his unprotected stomach.  Kneeling down, he took hold of the blond hair stiff with dried blood and jerked back the head of the agent who was heaving for lost air.

 

“I’ve had about enough of your remarks.” Warned Daley emphasizing his words with a savage shake of the hurting man’s head before roughly banging it against the floor.

 

The connection of the floor with his head stunned him and Heath groaned outwardly at the pain before crying out loudly at the man who stood over him and kicked his body over onto his other shoulder.  The darkness crept quickly in from the edges and he couldn’t stop it from overtaking him.

 

Staring down at the man who passed out, Daley took great pleasure in placing a kick between the unaware agent’s shoulder blades before retaking his seat at the table and picking up his cards to resume his game of solitaire.  The sound of a horse galloping in the yard had him jumping to his feet.  From a broken dirty window, he watched Jacks dismount quickly and within seconds was pounding on the door of the shack.

 

 

 

Chapter 29

 

As his knuckles rapped on the warped door of the shack, Jacks bit back the rising of fear from deep in his stomach.  Quick as a hummingbird’s wing, the bald headed man was suddenly glad he took the direct approach for he wasn’t sure he would have the courage to lie in wait.   The longer he would have waited the more he would have talked himself out of what he truly knew to be the right thing to do.

 

The weathered door opened and Jacks stared at the gaping barrel of the pistol aimed at his heart before he blurted out nervously, “Turk sent me to tell you it didn’t work.”

 

Daley Carson looked at the man who stood in the doorway, his face flushed and his eyes wide with fear.  Not letting the barrel which was pointed at the man he’d come to know casually through the rodeo circuit, the tall man motioned the shorter man inside with a motion of his gun.

 

“You say Turk sent you?” questioned Carson standing away from his visitor and keeping him in sight.

 

Nodding, Jacks who had seen the prone body of Heath in the corner when he entered the shack made a conscious effort to keep his eyes from filling with worry at the stillness of the agent.  “Yeah, he couldn’t get out of town cause the law’s watching him.  He said to tell you it was too hot in the area.”

 

Staring at the other man, Carson’s eyes narrowed and the natural streak of suspicion he’d been born with had him on guard.  As far as he was aware, Jacks had never been involved to any degree with Turk, however, even he had to admit the giant of a man didn’t tell him every detail of a job or every thought in his mind.  Turk liked to keep control and not sharing information was a way to keep the men he worked with reliant on him for leadership.

 

“I didn’t think you were in with Turk.” Suggested Daley suspiciously.  “When did that happen?”

 

“I’m not in with Turk as you say.  He paid me a hundred bucks to ride out here.”

Replied Jacks before shrugging.  “I need the money since I haven’t won lately.”

 

The words seemed feasible to the man who was hiding out with the bait needed for their plan.  Hesitating for a moment, Carson frowned and said, “You and Con were thick as thieves when we were traveling around.  I ain’t sure I believe you, Jacks.”

 

Snorting the smaller man sent a glare towards the unconscious agent lying beside the only bunk in the room.  Turning his eyes back to the taller man’s chilly orbs, Jacks scowled, “He lied about who he was and been playing all of us.  I don’t appreciate being made out to be a fool!  I got no love for any kind of  lawman.  Especially one whose sneaky like he is.”

 

The eyes of the smaller framed rodeo competitor were filled with a burning as he spoke of the betrayal by the man who was not a professional rodeo rider but an undercover agent and Carson nodded, lowering the pistol of his gun before sliding it into his holster.  The tall man relaxed slightly, ignoring the whisper of doubt in his head preferring to believe what he thought he saw with his own eyes in Jack’s face.

 

“Turk say what he wanted me to do?” asked Carson as he moved to the table and gathered up the cards before putting the deck in his pocket.

 

“Sorry, I’m just a messenger boy.” answered Jacks with a shrug.

 

Irritated for a moment at no other information forthcoming, Carson scowled before making a decision, “I’ll just move him further back into the woods.”

 

“Do you want me to tell Turk anything when I get back to town?” offered Jacks.

 

Shaking his head negatively and starting towards the unconscious lawman, Daley replied, “Turk’ll know where I’m taking him but you can help me carry him out to the barn.  He weighs a ton.”

 

“Sure.” Agreed Jacks from his spot by the cupboard, his hand closing on the handle of a frying pan.

 

Bending down beside the unaware lawman, Daley looked up when Jacks appeared next to him.  His eyes hadn’t had time to see anything beyond the blackened bottom of the cast iron pan before he felt a horrendous pain in his head.

 

Dropping the pan as if the handle was red hot with heat, Jacks’ legs shook when Daley sank to the floor as if his pockets were loaded down with boulders.  The older man’s stomach rose into his throat and he stumbled to the door, retching over the side of the rickety railing of the porch.  The sound of the pan connecting with Daley’s head sounded over and over in his mind.  When he regained control over the nausea from the damage he caused, the balding man staggered back inside and pulled the body of Daley away from Heath’s feet.

 

Falling to his knees, Jacks fumbled in his pocket as his heart pounded furiously in his chest.  With fingers trembling uncontrollably, he opened the blade on his pocketknife and sawed through the rope keeping Heath’s ankles and wrists together.  Working as fast as he could, the rodeo rider felt as if the seconds it took to relieve the unconscious agent of the remainder of his bindings were hours instead.

 

Taking a hold of the shoulder close to him, Jacks gently pulled Heath over onto his back, cursing at the bloodied and bruised head which lolled to the side.  Bending over, he looked for a place on the pinkerton’s face which was unbruised to tap him.  Finding none, he grabbed hold of the injured man’s shoulder and shook him, repeating his action in desperation.

 

“Con!  Con!” called Jacks his voice growing louder and louder until a small moan answered back.  “You gotta wake up Thomson!  Turk might be coming!”

 

“That’s it.” Reassured Jacks at the eye which barely opened at his voice.  The only sounds coming from the lawman were groans of pain.  Unable to rouse the blond to a higher plane of consciousness, Jacks pulled on Heath’s right arm causing the blond to pale further and cry out from pain

 

“My god.” Hissed Jacks fearfully after he pulled back the filth covered shirt and stared at the dislocated shoulder.

 

Standing up, he grabbed a towel which hung on a peg next to the cupboard, fastening a sling and knotting it behind Heath’s neck.  The agent’s eye was glazed with pain as he gently tucked the injured limb into the sling.

 

“Jacks?”

 

The low whisper erased the unsteadiness in him and Jacks nodded, his eyes meeting the single orb.  “Thomson, we have to get out of here before Turk comes.  Do you hear me?”

 

Blinking slowly, Heath struggled to comprehend how Jacks came to be where Daley had been.  He knew the threat Jacks’ voice was shaking from and he moved his head in a nod, sucking in air quickly when his head split with pain from the movement.

 

Jacks smiled slightly into the blue eye and apologized, “This is gonna hurt.”

 

Though he knew what the words meant, the pinkerton hadn’t been prepared for the stark pain which ran through him as the shorter man slowly lifted him to a sitting position.  Leaning against the bald headed man, Heath couldn’t cease his gasping for air or the moans which escaped.  Jacks waited for barely a minute before placing Heath’s left arm over his shoulders and pulled him upright.

 

Heath’s head lolled back and forth and he struggled to try to make his legs work.  Jacks grunted and pulled the man stumbling beside him on legs numb from the bindings towards the door.  The smaller man struggled with the extra weight of the lawman who couldn’t force his body to move as it should.  Falling to his knees, Jacks took in several gulps of air before pushing them upwards again.

 

They’d fallen three more times before making it the ten feet to the horse waiting at the hitching rail outside the cabin.  Putting the lawman’s fist in his horse’s mane, Jacks used his arms to forcefully push Heath up into the saddle where he leaned forward onto the horse’s neck.  Jacks’ arms shook with fatigue and he was able to pull himself upwards to sit behind the injured lawman after two tries. Pulling the blond up to lean back against him, Jacks frowned with worry at the man who was unconscious again.

 

Hesitating for a moment and debating, the rodeo rider nudged his horse forward heading west away from the shack holding the body of the man he killed to save another.

 

 

 

Continued…