Continental Cowboy

Chapters 45-60

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 45

Satisfied with the reduced fever and overall status of his patient, Howard Merar encased the broken leg of the smaller man in plaster before catching a ride back to Stockton with Duke McCall. Nick left Jarrod with the Pinkerton agent in the hallway discussing the hope Jackson Martin gave to the charges of jail breaking and murder against Heath as their mother exited her room.

Nick loved his mother deeper than the massive cut in the gorge which was the Grand Canyon but he didn’t have the desire or strength at that moment to deal with the unknowns of her state of mind. He didn’t want to be forced to make a choice between his love for her and his need to know his little brother. The man who was afraid of no other took the opportunity of his mother’s infallible sense of hospitality to escape into the guest room.

Pulling the upholstered high backed chair to the bedside, Nick leaned forward and rested his chin on his entwined fingers. Hazel eyes bursting with questions and no answers kept locked on the restless sleeping younger man. Now at this point, when he knew without a doubt in his heart this man was his father’s son, he felt a sharp fearful pain shooting through his chest.

What they should have offered to Heath Thomson two years ago may not be enough now to override their previous rejection. He felt the bond of brotherhood deep inside and yet, his nagging inner voice whispered his revelation was too late.

Too late to learn more about the man inside the outer shell. Too late to right their father’s wrong and bring Heath into the family he should have had growing up. Too late to take back their stinging words of denial. Too late because the man’s uncle would be at the ranch in two days time.

Leaning back and pulling the wire from his inner pocket, Nick took in a breath and reread the words on the paper sent to the female Pinkerton agent. She handed the wire to Jarrod who read it and with a look of loss spreading across his face offered it to him in silence. Listed as Heath’s next of kin, Matt Simmons had stated in his wire he would come to Stockton and bring his nephew back to Strawberry where he could care for his recovering nephew.

Neither of the Barkley men could rightfully argue they were better suited to be designated as the next of kin for they all were virtual strangers to each other. The little brother Nick had yearned for growing up was here physically but he may as well have been on the other side of the world. Even though their blood bond was thicker than water it wouldn’t hold up against the sieve of their non-relationship.

“You and me, little brother, we’re both victims here.” stated Nick in a low sad voice to the man unconsciously groaning from pain in his sleep when he moved slightly. “Time was stolen from both of us. Time we can never get back and it’s not looking good for time in the future either, is it?”

Taking in a deep breath and rubbing his hands over his face, Nick regretted promising the injured man he wouldn’t press the issue of their family bond while he was at the ranch. Letting his eyes fall back onto the blond, he realized now with the uncle arriving from Strawberry keeping his word would no doubt aid Heath into severing all ties like a hot knife through butter.

* * * * * * * *

Billy wiped a hand across his forehead to stop the trickle of sweat from reaching his eyes. The wagon rolled slowly over the road, swaying from side to side. Looking around at the faces of the four men sharing the back of the wagon with him, he felt like a fish out of water, a mongrel among purebreds. Tomorrow they would reach Stockton and save for the sheriff and Mickey Flanagan’s arrival…no other people had been seen during their travel.

“Blasted it’s hot.” Muttered Billy to himself, shifting slightly to ease the stiffness in his muscles from being in the small space before rubbing his clammy hand down the front of his shirt.

The deputy hadn’t expected any of the men to comment for since he’d arrived they treated him indifferently. These men were a different breed, all of varying sizes and physical traits. From standing on the outside of their inner circle and looking in, Billy could tell by the accents these men came from various parts of the country. For all their physical differences, they had a common bond which couldn’t be broken.

The Pinkerton agents assigned to the dangerous decoy mission were men who’d crawled at one time or another along the floors of hell. Men who breathed justice as much as they breathed fresh air. Men who oozed confidence and capability through their pores. Men who had seen bleak days and even bleaker nights. Men whose somber faces smiled only amongst themselves and who while respecting him for a fellow officer of the law…did not break rank to allow him inside.

These men’s sustenance of life rushing through their veins mattered little to them; justice was their passion and their very being. Their eyes spoke of witnessing humanity’s darkest, dankest moments and yet, the light of goodness shone from their souls like a radiating beacon. These men were simple and also complicated.

They’d warmly greeted the arriving Mickey Flanagan until his news of the unknown welfare of Heath Thomson, one of their own, turned their eyes hard as granite. The only questions asked were to the point and brief before the train moved on. Billy was inwardly moved by the level of dedication shown to their missing coworker. While the time ticked by slowly the deputy found himself again pondering the man who turned out to be his fiancée’s half brother

Without warning, they struck on two sides. Expecting to be the delivers of destruction, the gang lead by the mountain of a man found the tables turned instead. The cavalcade of four covered wagons guarded only by five men riding alongside the slow moving train watered their mouths in anticipation of the bounty inside. In their minds each of the gang could see the gleaming gold through the sides of the wood wagons.

With guns blazing with flames promising death, they charged from their hidden positions. With the element of surprise on their side, twelve to five outriders and four drovers seemed to them odds to bet on. They followed their leader many times with success and their faith in his ability was misplaced. Greed and the promise of riches beyond their wildest dreams overriding caution was their downfall.

Horses screamed in pain and men screamed in horror when the white canvas rigging dropped and two wagons full of extra guns replied to their deadly criminal intent.

Chapter 46

Kate Warne sat at the dining room table, the silence in the room was ominous, heavy with deep thoughts and despair. She knew the cause of the prickly laden air in the room lay upstairs in the form of her friend. The Supervisor of Female Agents in the hire the Pinkerton Detective Agent felt the conflicting emotions from each of the Barkley family members.

When Heath revealed their bond to him by his absent father, she had requested a thorough investigation into their background to determine for herself if they were worthy of being called his family. Now as she drank her rosemary tea and turned her eyes from one to the next, she was startled at the difference in their personalities from the information she recalled in her file.

Audra, still innocent and protected, was eager to spend time nursing Heath even when he was unaware she were in the room. But her eagerness seemed to be tempered with each glance at her mother who sat to her right. Almost as if the girl didn’t want to betray the woman who suffered through her hard birth. Audra went through life lead by her heart and not her head. However, her heart was slowly stepping aside and allowing her obligation to her mother override her need to know her newest brother.

Nick, a leader of the men under his employ and a man who fit perfectly with his rough and tumble world, now wore a scowl as dark as the inside of a mine. This man’s confidence was gone; replaced with a heavy coat of regret from inner what ifs. It rolled off the large man like the waves rolled into the coast, eating away and causing doubts. His natural lust for life was tempered by the turmoil inside him. The rancher glanced very little at his mother who bore him and looked inward at his heart. His devotion to his parent would win out in the end if a line in the sand was drawn. His love for his mother would never fully erase the inner doubts. Doubts which would have him rethinking his course of action where it wasn’t apparent…deep inside where he kept his most secret thoughts and desires. Rethinking and questioning himself like the endless cycle of the seasons.

Jarrod, the man whose glib tongue and melodic weaving of words often drew more spectators into the court just to hear his summations, was deathly quiet. A pinched look took over his handsome tanned features and his sky blues were dimmed by a great loss. He glanced frequently down the table at his mother. Kate could almost see the words dangling on the tip of his tongue. Words hovering on the precipice needing to be voiced and yet, it was there….a solid wall stopping him. It was invisible to the naked eye but as solid as the strongest California redwood. The man who stood up to the corruption of the world and the most dangerous foes without blinking an eye, now looked like a little boy lost. A little boy wandering aimlessly in a fog and suddenly finding himself standing spread legged over an endless crack in the earth. He was torn between protecting the woman who gave him life on one side or knowing the life of his half brother on the other side. Fear of making a false move in the tug of war game held him immobile and speechless.

Victoria Marie Barkley.

Born to a shopkeeper and his wife in a small town in Virginia, she’d been swept off her feet at the age of nineteen. An old maid by the standards of the day, she had always known there was someone out there for her and she wasn’t settling for second best. Her steadfastness paid off when Thomas Jonathan Barkley visited her family’s store on his way to Richmond. It only took one look and against her parent’s wishes, they were married within three days time and heading west to the land of golden opportunities.

It took a character and inner self made of the strongest component to push fear aside those days to follow one’s dreams. Armed with only the stars in their eyes the couple struggled tirelessly and built a life many yearned for. Together, side by side, they overcame obstacles on a daily basis and as their riches grew so did the evidence of their love…their children.

The couple took their places as leaders in the community, giving back to the land that gave so much to them. Helping others reach their own pinnacles of good fortune not with money or wealth but with friendship. The Barkleys were the first to step forth and assist those in need. They were the first to step up and uphold their beliefs, their values. It was their honesty and integrity in times of hardship which many in their community looked up to and gravitated towards.

It was Tom Barkley’s personal war against the railroad for the good of his fellow man which ended his life. The prominent rancher was winning and with his death became a martyr to those following his lead. The large foe was defeated but the win was bittersweet to those left behind. They’d lost one of their own to gain victory. It was the loss of her soul mate, her husband, her friend and her lover which shattered the strength inside the matriarch of the family. The loss sent the tiny woman spiraling down out of control.

Kate Warne sensed it was not so much the evidence of her husband’s affair with another woman which frightened Victoria Barkley…no…it was the deep fear of falling again into a crater with no bottom. It was the reality of the once strong woman re-losing herself in an unwelcoming darkness that was winning out.

To stand up in defiance of those around you and take the path you morally knew was right required strength and perseverance. Strength and perseverance to fight the tongue wagging and allow the ripple that would spread through the community to roll off your back like a rain drop. It required what Victoria Barkley was still working to regain…inner strength to battle her own internal foe.

One by one she watched Heath’s siblings shuffle out of the dining room, their words of want left unsaid to the woman sitting at the head of the table. Allowing her fork to fall down on her plate with a clang, Kate Warne wiped her mouth daintily with the napkin before standing.

“There is more life to live and if you choose to live in fear, you may as well allow death in.” said Kate softly as her soft brown eyes looked deeply into the gray eyes of the silver haired woman. Turning to leave the dining room, Kate stopped and glanced over to the lady watching with wide eyes.

“He’s a fine man just like your husband was, Mrs. Barkley.” Stated the law agent quietly before sighing deeply. “Heath’s too proud for his own good and has an iron will. I think you’ll find over time how much you’ll miss when he leaves. Not today or tomorrow but one day…it’ll hit you like a ton of bricks. One day when you are able to push your fear aside and look at things with a clear eye. One day and then you’ll realize it’s all too late.”

Stopping at the door, Kate’s back turned rigid at the words barely reaching her.

“Perhaps it would be for the best, Agent Warne.”

Chapter 47

Kate was inwardly fuming at the older woman’s statement. She valued Heath’s friendship above all others and knew the reason he returned to the Barkley ranch two years ago was to test the waters with the information he’d uncovered. Growing up without his mother and having no father left a scar deep inside the blond.

No amount of wealth would ever replace what he missed as a child. Even after his uncle found him in the orphanage, there’d always been a void inside him. A void of longing that came out in the form of disobedience and rowdiness. A void he couldn’t find a way to fill.

Leaving the dining room, Kate rounded the corner and stopped short at the man blocking her path. She could see by the look in his light eyes he’d heard her words to his mother.

“Truer words were never said, Miss Warne.” Acknowledged Jarrod softly as he stepped aside. “Though I gather from the storminess in your eyes, you didn’t like mother’s response. I’m afraid I can imagine what it was.”

Heading to the staircase and falling in step with the eldest son, Kate replied firmly, “Rome wasn’t built in day, Mr. Barkley and I’m not in the habit of believing in miracles.”

“I believe in them.” Offered Jarrod as he reached out to stop her with a hand on her arm. “I assure you my mother is normally a champion for an underdog…she is not herself…with time…”

“With time, what?” queried Kate before her risen temper released the scathing words on her tongue. “She might give the bastard underdog son a Barkley bone? How very magnanimous of her.”

Shocked and angered at the brutal statement, Jarrod’s hissed his defense of his mother from clenched teeth, “It’s unfair of you to judge her like that, Miss Warne. I believe any woman…no wife…in my mother’s place would have difficulty with the reality of the situation.”

“The situation,” repeated Kate, “has a name and it’s Heath Thomson.”

Jarrod stated firmly, “I know his name, Miss Warne…”

Ignoring the words coming from the prominent attorney, Kate continued on. “He was born May 15, 1851 in Strawberry, California. Eight months to the day after TJB, Thomas Jonathan Barkley, left the mining town. His mother, Leah Thomson, died two days later from the childbirth at the age of eighteen. The only person who wanted him was the midwife who handled the delivery but the sheriff wouldn’t let her cause he was white and she was a former slave. There was no one else willing to take in a baby born of the town whore and he was shipped off to the county orphanage. A small sized baby at birth, Heath was lucky to have made it in that place.”

“Miss Warne…”

“But he lived despite the lack of decent food and the lack of a mother to care for or hold him. This wasn’t a nice place like the Stockton orphanage with benefactors such as the Barkley family…no…this was a place where the children were treated no better than indentured servants. Heath was small so he was lucky to be chosen to earn extra money by being a charge boy at the mine. They forced him to work in the mine your family owned part of until it closed. He was in that orphanage until his uncle found him when he was nine, Mr. Barkley. Nine long terrible years in that place where he worked like a dog.”

Jarrod blinked back the tears he felt forming in his eyes and swallowed the sickness rising up from deep in his stomach at the picture painted in his mind. His shoulders slumped under the horrific beginnings to his brother’s life. He steadied himself with a hand against the wall, afraid his legs would collapse from the weakness rushing through him.

“I was hoping your family would give Heath what he should have had from his first breath in this world. A home, brothers and a sister but now….” Stated Kate firmly as she raised her chin higher. “Heath Thomson is not a reminder of a past sin to be discarded or swept under the carpet. He’s my friend and I don’t think your family deserves him, Mr. Barkley! Your mother was right – it is for the best!”

Brushing past the openly stunned man, Kate continued to the staircase and climbed the steps. Her hands clenched into fists and her eyes narrowed in anger for the injured man who put himself on the line to protect the wealth of this family simply because it was his job.

Stopping outside the door to the guest room, Kate held onto the doorframe with a fierce grip and took in several breaths to calm her stampeding heart. She was trembling from the strong feelings overtaking her and she took the time needed to calm herself. She didn’t want to enter the room in this state of turmoil for if he were awake, the blond would sense right it away. Feeling a wetness on her cheeks, she reached up and wiped the tears she didn’t know were running down her face.

Jarrod sagged against the wall and stared at the empty foyer, his anger over her judgment of his mother was gone and only a sense of grief remained. Grief for a baby born into a world not of his own doing. Grief for the innocence of childhood his brother never had because of the lack of a father and mother to care for him. It was a faint rustle that caught his ear and he turned to see the edge of his mother’s skirt disappearing into the dining room.

Chapter 48

Forcing his eyelid to open, a drowsy blue eye moved slowly in its socket around the interior of the room. The effort required to rotate the optical device in its fleshy cage felt monumental. Letting his eye stop when it landed on the familiar face of Silas Whiting, the caretaker of the Barkley family, he vaguely recalled from the outer most fringes of his mind how he came to be here. The last thing he remembered was the promise of Nick Barkley and his agreeing to allow the man to bring him to the family’s ranch.

“Mor’ng, Mr. Heath.” Smiled Silas as he gently wiped the brow of the blond and easily fell back into the friendship they’d formed two year ago. “Doc’s says ya’s gonna be just fine. Just fine, Mr. Heath.”

Grimacing as the smile turning up his lips sent a surge of pain down the side of his face, Heath leaned back into the pillows. Closing his eye, he took stock of the points of his body lulling him in a painful round robin. The small hand wiping his brow had moved and was now laying a cloth against the side of his face, the coolness working to drown out the burning and throbbing.

Silas bent down at the mumbled words he couldn’t understand and shook his head, “Ya’s best not try ta talk, Mr. Heath. Doc’s says ta wait til mo’ swellin’ goes down.”

Looking into the warm dark eyes in the lined face, Heath reached over and his shaky fingers enclosed on the slender hand. The effort it took to relay his appreciation to the older man by a simple gesture took him by surprise. It stole his strength as quick as a hummingbird’s wing.

Patting the fingers he felt trembling on his hand, Silas nodded, “T’aint nothing, Mr. Heath. I’s happy ta help.”

Placing the hand back on the bed, Silas watched the injured man drift away in sleep as he rinsed out the cloth and replaced it on the side of the battered face. Silas Whiting felt a kinship with the younger man when he’d first met him and it was a friendship he’d been given in return.

Quiet and assured, the young Pinkerton agent seemed to have a knack for knowing when the elder man’s silent grieving for the slain family leader became too much for him to bear. Many was the time the blond would appear when the older gentleman needed an ear and a honest heart. Not saying much at those times but simply offering his friendship had endeared Heath Thomson, Pinkerton agent to Silas Whiting, family houseman.

Humming to himself, Silas knew a storm was brewing. Not outside but within the house and the family. He’d heard their conversations and seen the torment in their eyes. There were not many who would take in a stray of their husband’s from another woman but inside he hoped Victoria Barkley would. He prayed to his maker up above to give her strength and power. Strength and power to make the right decision and to take the right path.

As sure as he’d been born into slavery and forced to grow up where cruelty knew no boundaries, the blond laying on this bed deserved what his father never gave….a home, a future and a birthright. Whether the blond’s not being here as a child was by a blatant denial or an honest lack of knowing didn’t matter to Silas for he was here now. He was here and due what was rightfully his.

Arching his eyebrow at the man who’d woken again, Silas showed his displeasure before helping the blond adjust himself on the bed. Sighing slightly at the raise in the elevated position, Heath’s mouth felt dry as a piece of cracked leather as a small hand carefully lifted his head.

* * * * * * * *

Kate took in a breath and let it out slowly before quietly swinging the door open on well oiled hinges. Nodding to the older dark gentleman who glanced her way at the sound of her boots, she stopped beside the bed and watched the infinite care used to lift the injured man’s head to push the necessary fluid intake.

Taking several sips of the glass held to his lips, the battered Pinkerton nodded slightly and closed his eyes as he waited for his stomach to ease. The small amount of water threatened to launch a mutiny deep in his interior.

“Ya’s want ta try some broth, Mr. Heath?” asked Silas quietly when the man’s eye reopened. The idea of food seemed to pale the blond even more and Silas nodded at the negative shake of his head. “Maybe’s later, Mr. Heath. Maybe later.”

“Thank you, Mr. Whiting.” Acknowledged Kate with a smile as she took his place by the bed. “I’ll watch him now.”

“Yes’m.” said Silas before leaving the two law agents in the room.

The small beads of perspiration covering his forehead had dissipated and only the flushness on his cheeks gave any indication of a fever still simmering inside. Pouring water from the pitcher in a small bowl, Kate opened the tin left by the town physician and mixed several teaspoons of the herbs with the liquid to form a paste. Sitting on the bed, she smiled encouragingly into the single eye opening to look at her.

“Time for your next application, Heath.” Instructed Kate chuckling at the narrowing of the blue orb. Her friend certainly didn’t need words to express his thoughts with eyes as expressive as his.

Gently applying a thin layer of the paste to the darkened bruised areas on the side of his face while avoiding the stitches, Kate stopped her fingers for a moment and smirked, “Remember when Mickey was laid up on the Klamath after he threw his back out and there was only a vet in the town…”

Shaking her head and laughing, Kate was rewarded with a twinkle in the light colored blue. “I wasn’t sure that horse liniment smell was ever gonna wash off. You should be mighty thankful Dr. Merar’s not a veterinarian.”

Rolling his eye slightly, Heath found his eyelid closing against his wish and he forced it back open. Finished with placing a thin coat of the clover and witch hazel paste on the offending part of his face, Kate reached over and held onto his left hand.

“Go back to sleep, Heath.” Instructed Kate firmly. “The rest will do you good and when you wake, the aftereffects of the chloroform should be gone. Then we’ll see if we can build up your strength, okay?”

“Shhh.” Whispered Kate with a shake of her head at the attempt of words. “I haven’t heard from Mickey yet but I left word in town of where you were. If I hear anything you’ll be the first to know.”

Kate wasn’t sure if Heath was seemingly satisfied with her reassurance or simply exhausted from trying to stay awake as his eye closed. Taking in a breath and allowing her shoulders to slump slightly after his breathing indicated he was resting, she eased off the bed to take a seat in the chair.

Pulling her legs up under her and wrapping her arms around an extra pillow, the brown haired woman looked to the door at the sounds of footsteps in the hallway stopping for a moment before continuing on. Frowning, she knew the steps were too heavy to be Victoria Barkley’s. Rerunning her heated words to Jarrod Barkley through her mind, Kate Warne felt a tinge of guilt at lashing out at the man and yet, she stood firm in her opinion.

Heath Thomson was her friend and he deserved more than they could give.

Chapter 49

Stepping off the midday train, Matt Simmons shifted his bag to his left hand and caught the station master’s eye. Nodding after the quick conversation, the man with dark hair slightly graying at the temples walked down the street to the faded livery building. Renting a chestnut, he effortlessly mounted and pointed the horse to the west.

Since he’d gotten the wire from his nephew’s friend and fellow agent, Kate Warne, his innards had been twisted in knots. His first inclination had been to drive a wagon to Stockton to bring his injured nephew back to Strawberry. After the initial fright over the news the wire held wore off, he discarded the automatic thought and rode to Pine Crest to catch the next train. By wagon it would take nearly two days of traveling time and he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Heath staying at the Barkley ranch longer than necessary.

Reaching the outskirts of town, he coaxed the mount beneath him into a cantor. The equine gladly stepped up its pace with the freedom of the open trail. Matt scanned the countryside and relaxed as the warm air of the day brushed over his face.

Dark eyes hidden under his hat brim squinted against the glaring sun. The corners of his eyes showed the telltale signs of a man who spent much time outdoors. The narrowed eyes couldn’t hide the anxiousness in their depths or the extra beats of his heart inside his chest. He was apprehensive over what he’d find when he reached the Barkley ranch. Along with his worries over his nephew’s injuries, he worried over the place where he currently was.

Though the man was dead and gone, it was still the ranch of Heath’s father and the man’s family. It was the home of the man who left his baby sister alone and with child in the boom town of Strawberry. TJB hadn’t returned to check on Leah and hadn’t known he had created a son.

Shaking his head at the path his mind was taking, Matt felt the old resurgence of guilt over not being there when his only living relative needed him. He hadn’t been there to protect his young sister against her loss of innocence. Nor had he been there to take over Heath’s care when she died shortly after his death.

Instead he had been in Yuma prison serving his time for a bank job gone awry from his wildcat days. Ten long years in that place of death had nearly killed him. It was only after he returned to Strawberry that he learned of Leah’s death. Asking around the nearly deserted town, he learned about Leah and then about Heath’s existence from Hannah, the midwife who helped his sister during the difficult delivery.

The child he saved from the county orphanage was surly and unruly. The boy bucked authority like a mustang fought a bit for the first time. New to the world of parentage, he struggled to give his nephew his first home and Matt knew he failed badly.

Like all children Heath needed a mother’s touch, a mother’s love growing up. Both of them were strangers to each other and more often than not, they circled around as if they were two natural enemies meeting in the wild. Both were distrustful of people and that distrust carried over to each other. How they ever made it through the first six months under the same roof still baffled him today.

Small though Heath had been for a child, he had received more than his share of hard knocks. The kid liked to act as if his skin was tough like old boot leather but his eyes would give him away. The blues were the windows to what was really going on deep inside his nephew. Even when he was at his most belligerent, Matt had eventually learned to ‘read’ the truth beyond the brashness and toughness.

In his short lifetime, the boy had been deserted by everyone he’d ever known until the day he rode up to the orphanage and took him away from it. From suddenly having no one and counting only on himself, Heath found himself with a man who was his uncle and had no idea what to do with this foreign notion. Heath was quick minded with a sharp tongue and it caused many a tense situation as the kid tried to adapt to his new surroundings.

Over time they reached a middle ground and Matt was sure it was due to Heath finally realizing he wasn’t going anywhere. He wouldn’t desert him like everyone else no matter how confounded ornery the boy acted out. Uneasiness slowly gave into a relaxing of the walls Heath bricked up inside him and the seas between them quieted enough so they weren’t constantly fighting a never ending current.

Til the boy turned twelve there’d been long spans of calm and ease between them. His freight business was providing a steady income and things were looking up for once. That was until the lady he was keeping company with revived Heath’s dormant feelings of abandonment. Unknown to him, Martha Carson had lit the fuse when she hinted to his nephew what would happen if she became his ‘aunt’.

Growling at recalling when he found out his nephew had run off to join the union army, Matt felt the old surge of fury rising from deep inside. Never before had he ever wanted to strangle a female as much as he had wanted that day. He shunned her after that but it was too late to save his nephew from the atrocities of war. Heath, who he taught to hunt and shoot, was assigned to a sniper unit. Even when he informed the army of his nephew’s age, no one in the war department would put forth any effort into sending Heath home. To those people he was simply another soldier needed on their battlefields and another fighter for their cause.

When Heath went missing in action, Matt thought his world had crumbled. The boy who once enjoyed making him miserable had somehow become the center of his universe. Heath was more than just a nephew…he was the only son he’d ever have and the waiting to hear more news nearly drove him over the edge.

Thankfully, he’d gotten Heath back however his joy was short lived. Through his time in Carterson, his nephew never forgot the words of Allan Pinkerton and the offer extended to him. Matt knew what it meant to survive a hell on earth. He knew what it took to make it through one more day, one more night in a place where walking corpses were all around you. He knew and understood. But all his understanding hadn’t made it any easier when he allowed his nephew to leave California and head to Chicago…to head to the man who gave him a focus when his hope had gone.

Stopping at the arched entry onto Barkley land, Matt Simmons took in a breath and tried to push his anxiousness deep down. Though they corresponded with letters, he hadn’t seen Heath face to face since they argued over his coming here two years ago. Now, he found himself afraid of the reception he would receive.

Would Heath be glad to see him or had he found a place with the family of the man who was never there? Would he welcome the Barkleys more than he’d welcome him?

Chapter 50

The rays of the sun hovering above cast the white buildings of the Barkley ranch in a bright light. The trail from the statuesque gate to the scattering of buildings gave Matt Simmons an opportunity to appreciate the grandeur of the area.

The lush grasses of the land on either side of the trail was no doubt satisfying to the cattle he saw from his vantage point on top of the rented mount. The green landscape was dotted with the dark colors of the walking steaks. Anyone who’d spent their lives in the western lands could see the signs of plenty all around.

Grudgingly, Matt Simmons could see the foresight of Tom Barkley when he choose the place where he decided to set down roots and build his empire. The valley with its rolling hills offered a natural fence of a sort. From the top of a rise, he caught a glimpse of the beeves plodding between the hills to a waterhole. The father of his nephew must have foreseen the potential the area could have in future years when he first glimpsed it.

As much as Matt Simmons understood the murdered man’s visions when he first entered the valley, it did nothing to stem the bitterness rising like a geyser inside. All this wealth hadn’t stopped the death of his sister or saved his nephew from that horrible place they called an orphanage. Tom Barkley had so much and yet he’d lost a great deal more; the chance to know he had another son. Matt idly wondered if the man who was surely watching over his family from wherever he was now anguished over the son he never knew.

Shaking his head and forcing himself to stifle the bitterness tightening his throat, he slowly entered the ranch yard and maneuvered his horse to the majestic mansion. The house looked large enough to hold the few inhabitants left in the dying town of Strawberry with no difficulty.

Dismounting and looping the reins around the hitching rail, the lean muscular man took his hat off and beat the thin layer of dust from his clothes. He let a small smile lift the corner of his mouth when he recognized he was hesitant to take the final steps to the oak door. It was ironic that the urging he left Strawberry with seemed to have dissipated at the unsure greeting he’d receive from his nephew.

Mentally chastising himself for the streak of cowardice suddenly showing, Matt Simmons replaced his hat and in three long strides planted himself at the door. Lifting his hand, his knuckles rapped three times on the grained wood. Wiping his hands on the front of his black shirt, he watched the door open and a pair of piercing blue eyes caught his.

Deviating from his way to the study at the knocking on the front door, Jarrod opened it and found himself looking into the eyes of a stranger.

“May I help you?” queried the first born of the Barkley children, faint curiosity and a wariness showing in the eyes of blue.

“I’m Matt Simmons.” Stated Matt calmly. “I’ve come for my nephew.”

The man who’d been a protégé of the legal system couldn’t keep the surprise from showing in his eyes at the nearly monotone statement of the man on the front porch. Jarrod felt his stomach flip over and his left hand gripped the gold knob tighter. Even though they’d known Heath’s uncle was coming from Strawberry, somehow seeing him made it more real. His appearance at their home made clearer the darkness threatening their futures.

Realizing he’d been openly staring at their visitor, Jarrod stepped back, “Mr. Simmons, I’m Jarrod Barkley.”

“Yes, I know.” Informed Matt dryly as he stepped into the expansive foyer and took off his hat. “Your family’s always big news in the papers, Mr. Barkley.”

“Please call me Jarrod.” Offered the younger man who couldn’t seem to work the gilded tongue he normally possessed. “I..we..weren’t expecting you for at least another day or so, Mr. Simmons. Can I offer you something to wash down the trail dust?”

Shaking his head negatively while he ran his gaze around the inside of the mansion, Matt turned slightly to look into the light blue eyes and requested, “I’d like to see Heath, Mr. Barkley. He is still here, isn’t he?”

Jarrod was taken back by the sudden desire to lie and tell the older man Heath was not there. The dread he felt since last night at the fear of losing the man they longed to call brother was quickly rising and threatening to take over all his sensibilities. It was an irrational thought for a man who lived each day searching for rationality and justice in a place where oftentimes things were haphazard and muddled.

“Mr. Barkley?” prodded Matt, his eyes narrowing at the flash of despair in the well-known attorney’s eye.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Apologized Jarrod when he broke through the irrational haze clouding his mind. “My brother is still here Mr. Simmons. Our town physician is up with him right now.”

The older man didn’t verbally respond to the relational term given his nephew but the muscle on his cheek pulsated from the clenching of his jaw. Twisting his hat in his hand, he nodded and looked into the eyes of the lawyer.

“If you’d be so kind as to lead the way, Mr. Barkley, I’m anxious to hear what the doc has to say about Heath’s injuries.”

“Of course.” Agreed Jarrod softly before slowly leading the way to the staircase and climbing the steps, his mind racing and filled with what if’s.

The older man found he could barely keep a hard edge off his words while fighting the desire to search the massive building for his nephew from the sudden burst of panic inside. Materially, the family of Heath’s father could offer him the world on a platter made from gold. The Barkley family’s wealth and prosperity was renown in the state of California. Their ventures flourishing when others failed and many credited it to the infamous Barkley luck.

Following the younger man up the staircase, Matt Simmons’ heart quickened in his chest when he wondered if his often rocky relationship with his nephew would be the catalyst to drive Heath to these people. The family of his father.

Chapter 51

Audra stood with reins in hand beside the small wire arch designed fence. Crystal blue eyes stared at the prominent headstone of her father’s grave. The marker of the resting place couldn’t relay exactly who the man was laying at its base. It couldn’t bring out his zest for life and his family for it was a cold unfeeling stone. It was material incapable of breathing, love or emotions. It couldn’t make her or anyone else feel the adoration she still held for him even in his eternal sleep. Shaking her blonde head, she reached up and absently ran her hand over the soft coat of her horse’s neck.

“Everything’s such a mess, Storm.” Sighed Audra not moving her eyes from her father’s grave. “Daddy used to say life was full of choices. I bet he never would have considered every having to make a choice like this one.”

Shifting the weight on his legs, Storm flicked an ear at the softness of his mistress’ voice. The delicate scratching of her fingers felt heavenly and he moved closer nudging with his head. Suddenly lifting his head, his nostrils flared and he whinnied to the scent of a familiar companion he sensed on the gentle breeze.

Turning to the direction of Storm’s gaze, Audra smiled tenderly at the sight of Nick and Coco walking towards her. The hazel eyes lit up and a smile just for her broke the frown on his face. Dismounting the tall rancher ground trailed Coco’s reins and made his way to his sister.

“I was wondering where you took off to, Audra.” Stated Nick laying his arm across his sister’s shoulder. “I thought you were with mother.”

Shaking her head and leaning into her brother’s side, Audra’s guilt laden voice replied, “I tried I really did but I had to get out of there, Nick. All she does is sit in the chair and stare out the window. Since breakfast she hasn’t said one word and…well…after hearing what that woman said to Jarrod….”

“What woman?” asked Nick looking down at the bowed head. “Agent Warne?”

“I think Mother said something to make her angry after breakfast.” Said the blonde recalling the angry words she’d heard coming from just beyond the dining room. “Jarrod stalked off to the study and I just needed to get away and think.”

“What happened, Audra?” prodded Nick firmly. “Did they have a fight or something?”

“I didn’t hear everything but she told Jarrod…Heath wasn’t a reminder of a past sin and that she didn’t think we deserved to have him in our family.” Choked out Audra dropping the reins to wrap her arms around her brother and let his shirt soak up her silent tears. “Nick, I don’t think of him that way…Heath I mean…I think of him as my brother.”

Turning and holding his sister against his broad chest, Nick rubbed her back and shook his head, “I know, honey. I’m sure Agent Warne is just concerned about Heath and is afraid we’ll hurt him. She’s just protective of him like a mountain lion is over her cub. It’ll be alright, you’ll see.”

Moving her head against his shoulder, the young woman wanted so much to believe the word of her brother and pushed away enough to look up into his worried hazel eyes. “I think you’re wrong, Nick. I don’t think it’s gonna be alright.”

“Audra…”

“If Mother doesn’t stand up for Heath’s right to be in our family…why would he stay? Would you stay where you knew just by looking at you, it was killing someone else? Would you?” questioned Audra with watery blue eyes spilling out droplets of liquid pain as the hazel orbs flashed with regret. “Me either, Nick. I couldn’t do it either.”

Drawing her head back to his shoulder, Nick tightened his hold on his sister and rested his cheek on her blonde hair. Swallowing the truthful lump constricting his throat, his eyes fell upon the marker of their father’s grave and anger flared up in his heart. How could he have had another son and not known? How could he have betrayed his wife, their mother, with another woman?

Had their father any idea of how much anguish his careless action all those years ago was causing now? If he were alive, would he even care if his son Heath Thomson left and never came back? Or would he be glad for the chance to wipe his hands of the stigma associated with a child out of wedlock?

Closing his eyes, Nick took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Audra was right….if it were him, he wouldn’t stay where he knew his presence was a daily painful reminder for another. He couldn’t live a life filled with such guilt and he knew with all certainty neither would the younger man who lay recovering in one of their guest rooms.

“God, Audra what are we gonna do?” asked Nick in a low tortured whisper before adding, “We have everything money can buy but it won’t buy him. He’s our brother and if he leaves, I don’t think we’ll ever see Heath again.”

“I don’t know, Nick.” Replied Audra reaching up and wiping the tears from her cheek with shaky fingers. “It’s ironic in a way.”

Puzzled Nick’s narrowed eyes found his sister’s before she continued, “Father betrayed Mother. Now, we have to decide who we want to betray…Mother or Heath. I don’t imagine this was the legacy father had in mind for our futures.”

“No, I don’t reckon it was.” Sighed Nick before walking Audra to Storm who’d wandered a few feet away. Helping her into the saddle, his large hand squeezed hers and he tried to summon a smile of reassurance before giving up the attempt and making his way to Coco.

Slowly riding side by side, the siblings didn’t converse any more. Both were lost in thought. Inside both were hopeful the return to the ranch would find their mother willing to take on the shadows of her husband’s past to fight for the future of their family.

Chapter 52

Standing on the other side of the bed and watching the physician examine the incision in Heath’s abdomen, Kate looked up at the soft knock on the door. Taking in a breath she headed to the entrance to the room fully expecting to see one of the Barkleys or their houseman. Her brown eyes widened with surprise at the older man standing with his hat in hand.

“Mr. Simmons, you’re here sooner than I expected.” admitted Kate in a low voice stepping forward and forcing Heath’s uncle to take a step back into the hallway as she closed the door behind her. “Dr. Merar is examining Heath right now. He can’t talk right now….”

Meeting the eyes of the young woman, Matt’s fingers gripped his hat tighter and he replied tersely, “Miss Warne, if it’s alright with the Pinkerton agency, I’d like to see my nephew and hear what the doc has to say.”

Jarrod glanced quickly between the man and woman at the tenseness in their bodies, his eyes narrowed in puzzlement over the obvious tension. His sharp eyes didn’t miss the way Kate’s brown eyes flared in anger for a moment before her chin lifted a fraction.

“If the agency had any wishes to stop you from seeing your nephew, I wouldn’t have wired you Mr. Simmons.” Stated Kate before stepping to the side and gesturing towards the door. “Please go right in.”

Matt Simmons looked down at the woman from his height advantage before stepping past her and opening the door. Entering the room and shutting it, he nodded to the physician who glanced his way before stopping at the end of the bed. His intake of air could be heard in the quiet room after he caught sight of his battered nephew. Gripping the footboard with a fierce hold, he saw the slit of blue flare with recognition.

“Dr. Merar, I am Heath’s uncle, Matt Simmons.” Said the taller man before shifting his eyes away from his nephew. “How is he?”

“He’s doing as well as can be expected, Mr. Simmons.” Informed Howard pulling the bed sheet further up on his patient’s chest. “With rest and care there is no reason Mr. Thomson won’t be fully healed within a month or so.”

“That’s good.” Sighed Matt, the relief evident in his dark eyes.

Closing and latching his black bag while he gave a brief rundown of his patient’s injuries, the town physician looked down and patted Heath’s leg before smiling, “I’ll be back in two days, Mr. Thomson and as I’ve stated before, complete bed rest is the key to getting you back on your feet.”

Nodding slightly, Heath watched the man of medicine walk to the door before his uncle moved around the bed and sat on the edge beside him.

Matt reached over to place his hand on Heath’s uninjured shoulder and swallowed once before offering a shaky smile. “I was scared Heath. Afraid you were hurt worse than they told me and….well, scared you wouldn’t want me here after the last time we saw each other. I know you’re probably still mad and if you want me to go….I will.”

Reaching up with his left hand, Heath clasped onto his uncle’s forearm and squeezed, his eyes telling the older man his answer since his swollen face couldn’t. Moving his head in a slow negative shake, Heath felt the same relief he saw in his uncle’s face when he didn’t reject him. The blond found his eye closing and felt a hand reach over to cover his. The injured man fell back to sleep knowing he was no longer alone in the place where he felt outnumbered by enemies.

Matt patted Heath’s hand and felt him go slack from falling asleep. Holding onto the large hand, he didn’t stop the moisture from pooling in his orbs at the damage he saw on his nephew. Staring at his only living relative and the boy he saved from the orphanage, Matt Simmons hoped this time he could talk his nephew into leaving the Pinkertons to work with him in the freight business.

Kate watched the door close behind Heath’s uncle and let out the breath of anger pent up inside her. She wasn’t even aware there was a witness to their passing of words until a deep voice startled her from her thoughts.

“Is he just very concerned about Heath, Miss Warne or does he hate you personally?” asked Jarrod in a quiet voice.

Shaking her head and laughing softly, Kate smirked, “Not personally, Mr. Barkley. It’s strictly professional, I assure you.”

“Would you care to elaborate?” queried Jarrod.

“No.” sighed Kate turning to go to the room given to her before stopping and glancing back over her shoulder. “Mr. Barkley, I was very angry this morning. I only want what’s best for Heath and I’m afraid I took my frustration out on you. It was not fair to you.”

“I understand, Miss Warne.” Stated Jarrod before adding. “You’re not the only one who is concerned about Heath. All of us are worried and want Heath here with us as one of our family.”

“Not all of you.” Replied Kate before moving to her room a few doors down and leaving the prominent lawyer standing in the hallway with eyes that shifted to stare at his mother’s closed door.

Taking a breath, Jarrod stepped to his mother’s door and knocked three times before hearing a voice grant him entrance.

Chapter 53

Often as a teenager and then a young man, he’d seen the band of steel inside both his parents. He’d witnessed forehand the strength they each possessed. The world of his childhood had been filled with mostly happiness and always love. The times of sadness and pain were few and far between but in those times, the children instinctively would seek the comfort and strength of their parents. They as a family relied on their paternal leaders to show them the source of light in those times of darkness.

Standing in his mother’s room after he closed the door, Jarrod found he was looking at a room which hadn’t changed much since one of its occupants was taken from them two years before. The room still held the memory of his father in its grip from his suit rack in the corner to his pipe on the mantel of the small fireplace. His father was very much alive in every corner and precipice of the room where his mother spent a great deal of time.

Taking a breath, he sensed something else in the spacious master bedroom…he could almost see the aura of fragility around his mother. Consciously squaring his shoulders, Jarrod crossed to where she sat in front of the window. Lowering himself into the chair next to hers, he smiled at the soft gray eyes turning his way.

“Nick and Audra are back.” Informed Victoria before turning her eyes to the lowering light of the afternoon, her lids closing and opening before she whispered. “Is….he okay?”

Gazing at his mother’s profile, Jarrod hesitated before replying, “I imagine he’s the same, Mother.”

Turning her silver head sharply, the gray eyes flared for a moment before she spoke, “You imagine, Jarrod? You don’t know?”

“I haven’t spoken with Howard yet, Mother.” Answered Jarrod truthfully. “We have another guest, Mother.”

“Is it the man who rode up a little while ago? I was wondering who he was.”

Jarrod stated, “Miss Warne wired him to come.”

“Another Pinkerton?” asked Victoria offhandedly with a quiet sigh.

“No, Mother.” Countered Jarrod waiting for her gray eyes to find his. “His name is Matt Simmons. He’s from Strawberry.”

The only change in his mother’s countenance at the mention of the dreaded mining town was a widening of her eyes before she repeated in a whisper, “Strawberry?”

Bowing his head slightly, Jarrod nodded before reaching for his mother’s hand and adding, “Matt Simmons is….Heath’s uncle, Mother. He wants to take Heath away before we have a chance to get to know our brother.”

* * * * * * * *

Stepping through the door of the guest room with his black bag, Howard swung his head to look up and down the empty hallway surprised no one from the family was waiting for an update on Heath Thomson’s condition. Frowning to himself, the physician felt a bit strange leaving without telling someone who lived in the house of his prognosis. Deciding to check the lower level of the mansion he knew intimately, the medicinal man made his way to the stair case and descended. His frown deepened immensely on his face when he couldn’t find anyone in the parlor or the study, even Silas was not in his usual place at the back of the house. Making his way from the kitchen to the foyer, he let out a smile of relief when Nick and Audra entered from outside.

“Audra. Nick. Glad you’re here” Greeted Howard with a relieved smile. “I need to get back to town and wanted to update someone on Mr. Thomson’s condition before I left.”

“Why didn’t you tell Jarrod or Mother?” asked Nick after exchanging a puzzled glance with his sister.

“I don’t know where either of them are.” Explained Howard with a wave of his hand. “After I left Mr. Simmons in the room with your brother, uh, Mr. Thomson I couldn’t locate Jarrod. Perhaps he’s with your mother in her room.”

“Did you say Simmons?” queried Nick in a strained voice unaware of Audra latching onto his arm with a death grip.

“Yes, Matt Simmons.” Stated Howard with a short nod. “He said he was Mr. Thomson’s uncle.”

“Nick, he’s early!” exclaimed Audra. “He wasn’t supposed to be here for a couple more days.”

“I know Audra, I know.” Replied Nick in a tortured whisper, his shoulders sagging a bit with the additional weight of the man’s sudden appearance in their home.

While none of the family had directly confided in him, Howard had sensed the tension between the female Pinkerton and the oldest Barkley son upon arriving at the house. He didn’t need anyone to point out to him there were other signs that all was not well within the four walls of the mansion. One such clue was the strangeness of Victoria Barkley not greeting him or seeing to the needs of an injured person under her roof. The matriarch of the prominent family always took great pains to ensure her guests were well taken care of and didn’t want for anything.

“Nick is there anything I can do?” offered Howard softly, his words raising the tormented hazel eyes of the rancher. “I imagine your mother could be finding this new…situation…well…perhaps a bit overwhelming and maybe frightening.”

“I….yeah.” admitted Nick with a shake of his head before wrapping an arm around his sister’s trembling form. “At first she seemed fine about Heath but now….”

Nick fumbled for words to describe the way his mother appeared to back off from the situation and Audra looked with beseeching eyes to their old family friend, “I’m worried about her, Dr. Merar. All she did all morning was sit and stare out the window at nothing. She wouldn’t even talk to me.”

Nodding his understanding, Howard set his bag and hat on the round table. “Why don’t I see if I can get her to talk to me? It may be easier for her to speak to someone outside the family.”

Letting out his pent up breath, Nick nodded and offered a small smile of thanks to the older man. “I’d appreciate it, doc. We’re between a rock and a hard place. None of us want to have to choose between her and Heath.”

“They’re both our family.” Said Audra with shimmering wet eyes. “It wouldn’t be right to pick one over the other and I just can’t do it.”

Smiling sympathetically, Howard reached over and squeezed Audra’s shoulder, “I’ll do my best Audra. I promise.”

“Thank you, Dr. Merar, thank you.” Replied Nick and Audra with hopefulness shining in their eyes.

Chapter 54

She could see the despair in her oldest child’s eyes and hear it in his voice at the thought of his newly recognized brother leaving. She knew what he wanted to hear from her and yet, she simply sat and stared. She couldn’t bring herself to take away that which was hurting him. It wasn’t a hurt which could be blown on to take out the sting or lessened with a mother’s tender kiss. No, this was something much deeper and much more painful to be dealt with.

“Mother…”

“I can’t, Jarrod.” Whispered Victoria as she tugged her hand from his. “I just need time. Some more time.”

Closing his eyes briefly at the words, Jarrod swallowed the bitterness welling up inside before bending his head to try to see into her down turned face. He believed what he had said to Kate Warne but how he wished it wasn’t true of his own mother. He didn’t know of any wife who’d have an easy time dealing with such a powerful emotional burden. As a son he’d do anything to help his mother and keep her safe…as an older brother, his younger siblings were also his responsibility regardless of their age.

“Mother, please tell me how to help you. What can I do?” pleaded Jarrod in a low voice.

“Jarrod…”

“Maybe if you spent time with Heath…I don’t know how to make this better for you if you don’t let me know.” stated the dark haired man in a lost tone. “All I know for certain is time is something we have very little of, Mother.”

“I’m sorry, Jarrod. I can’t give what you want me to.” Apologized Victoria with a shake of her head. “I thought I could but now I don’t know if I ever will be able to.”

“You sound as if you’ve already decided to not try. You sound as if you’d rather take the easy way out than to face things.” Pointed out Jarrod in an accusatory voice, his fear of losing a future with the brother they should have welcomed two years ago increasing his agitation. “What happened two years ago was scary for you and us, Mother but don’t let it ruin the rest of your life. If Father were here…”

“Your father’s not here! He left me…he left us behind! He should be here dealing with him!” screamed Victoria at her son while her eyes filled with tears and her trembling hands reached up to cover her face. “Leave! Get out!”

Guilt ridden at the anguish in his mother’s eyes and the starkness of pain in her voice, Jarrod blanched at the gut wrenching sobs coming from his petite mother. Tentatively reaching to touch her back, his hand snapped back when Howard suddenly appeared through the bed room door.

“Jarrod, you’d best leave.” Ordered the physician firmly with a motion of his head to the door. “Now.”

Nodding slowly, Jarrod walked by Howard who calmly closed the door behind him. Nick stood in the hallway staring at his big brother whose face was void of color. Taking hold of his stunned brother’s arm, the rancher silently prayed the screams coming from their mother’s room couldn’t be heard in the guest room two doors down. Leading Jarrod who was stumbling slightly down the hallway, Nick opened the door to his own room and pulled his brother inside. Sitting him on the bed, he took out a bottle of whiskey from his drawer and poured a shot. Placing it in Jarrod’s trembling hands, he watched his normally assured brother shakily raise the glass to his lips before he pulled his chair over. Sitting in front of Jarrod, Nick relieved him of the empty glass.

“You okay?”

Jarrod was unsuccessful at biting back the choked half sob which escaped and he shook his head back and forth. The man who could stand nose to nose with the most vicious of criminals without blinking an eye unconsciously rocked as he sat.

“I…god...Nick…it’s all my fault.” Stammered Jarrod, his penchant for weaving words in a melodic song disappearing with his rising culpability of driving his struggling mother over the edge. “I…pushed…too…hard…too…hard.”

“No, you didn’t, Jarrod.” Assured Nick standing and wrapping his arms around his guilt ridden brother. “I know it seems bad but I think this is what Mother needed. She used to thrive on challenges. You didn’t push…you challenged Mother, Pappy. We can’t keep mollycoddling her. We need to force her to take the bull by the horns. You didn’t do anything wrong, Jarrod. You didn’t.”

Wrapping his fists in his brother’s shirt, Jarrod physically sagged against the broad chest and fought to control the trembling in his body. From the pain spreading across his own chest, he felt as if he’d ripped out his own heart as well as shattering his mother’s bubble of fragility.

Chapter 55

Standing abruptly at the faint screaming he heard coming from another room, Matt Simmons listened but couldn’t make out any words. Frowning in thought, he retook his place by the bed holding his sleeping nephew and worked out in his mind the preparations he’d have to make over the next few days. He could either rent a wagon or ask the Barkleys for one of theirs when it came time to leave on the train to Strawberry.

Tapping his fingers methodically against his leg, the dark eyes narrowed and he wondered if he’d have to fight the Barkleys and the Pinkertons to get his nephew out of their clutches and back home. The dark eyes flared with a willingness for battle at his internal pondering. He was more than willing and ready if it came to a war over Heath. He wouldn’t let anyone run roughshod over his intentions to care for the boy he loved. He’d been in plenty of scraps in his lifetime but none ever had this much to lose.

* * * * * * * *

“Victoria, take a deep breath.” Instructed Howard firmly as he sat in the chair beside his old friend and pulled her hands away from her face, placing a cotton handkerchief in it. “Com’n you have to get a hold of yourself now.”

Crushing the piece of cloth in her small hand, the silver haired woman’s shook with the sobs she was trying to control as ordered. No matter how she tried to work through it in her head, she just couldn’t seem to get past the invisible wall of fear keeping her caged within herself. How could she make her children understand the depths of the panic rising at the thought of being lost in the ebony abyss again? It was an unseen place of desolation and barrenness. Like the harshest sections of the country it was a place that promised nothing and that took everything. It was a shadowy world where no element was solid and distinctive. It was a place she’d been to once and would do what was necessary not to be driven back.

Howard sat quietly while the leader of the Barkley family gathered a small minute particle of calm and the aftermath of her outburst diminished. Smiling tenderly into the gray eyes filled with self reproach for him having to witness the episode, he reached over and squeezed her small hand.

“Tell me exactly what you’ve been thinking, Victoria.” Requested the man of medicine waiting patiently while her left hand reached over and covered his as if he were a lifeline from the darkness in her mind.

“I’m not strong enough.” Admitted Victoria in a quiet voice, her tears welling again in her eyes. “I can’t, Howard, I can’t….”

“Okay, take a breath and let it out slowly…..there…now tell me what’s happened since yesterday as if you were describing something to me.” Suggested Howard calmly. “No emotions….just facts.”

Taking in several breaths, Victoria felt the rising panic subside and she nodded slightly before starting, “I was so ashamed after the surgery. I went to the water closet and washed my hands.”

“Why did you feel ashamed?” prodded Howard as her hand tightened on his. “We’re old friends, Victoria. We don’t judge each other.”

Closing her eyes and taking a breath, she continued, “For a moment I thought it would be better if he...died during the operation.”

“Because you were afraid he’d suffer if the surgery wasn’t successful?”

“No.” whispered Victoria glancing into the dark brown caring eyes of her old friend. “Because I didn’t think I’d be able to….deal with him being here….as a….”

“As a family member…you’d have to…explain.” Interjected Howard and receiving a barely perceptible nod of affirmation. “You’re not the only one to ever have such a thought, Victoria.”

“But logically I know it’s not his fault.” Protested Victoria in confusion. “Nobody has any control over where they’re born or who their parents are. I know it in my head but I can’t……cause if I do….I’m….”

Her words fell off into a silence of nervous frustration and an air of despair. Howard who had struggled with her children to bring her back from the deep depression of a couple years back read the fear lying inside of her.

“It’s perfectly natural to be afraid, Victoria.” Offered Howard. “You’ve had a hard time coming back and are still making progress. It’s okay for you to be unsure or hesitant. It doesn’t mean you’ll be like you were after Tom’s death….it simply means you’re human.”

“I know but in my head I keep remembering how I was.” Agonized the small woman. “I’m so scared of it. It’s all I think of.”

Reaching over and placing his hand over their joined ones, Howard stared into her watery eyes and questioned, “What does your heart say? If you hadn’t fallen into your depression two years ago and you felt fine, would that make a difference? Would you listen to your mother’s heart and less to the little voice in your head?”

“I don’t know.” Sighed Victoria in a small defeated voice.

“Just try it.” Suggested Howard in a soft encouraging voice. “You’re the Victoria Barkley who with her husband built an empire. A young man has shown up on your doorstep with proof of who his father is. Now, what would you say.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat and keeping locked on the eyes of her old trusted friend, Victoria heard the words coming from her mouth in a voice that seemed far away and distant.

“I’d say fight for your birthright. The birthright your father should have given you.”

Chapter 56

The family physician felt a wave of pride for the woman who’d been his friend for many, many years. He wanted nothing more than to have back the Victoria he’d met upon his arrival into Stockton. That Victoria oozing with motherly gentleness for her children could also work all day in the saddle beside her husband. That Victoria had an endless amount of stubborn determination and little fear for herself. Her fears in the past were always for those she loved and held dear, never for herself.

But that Victoria had disappeared before their very eyes. She’d disappeared only to return without the lack of fear she’d previously possessed. The band of steel inside her had been warped and slowly destroyed by the fires of the depression that grabbed hold.

He’d seen it before in others. It didn’t latch onto only those who had very little in their lives. It didn’t care she was the leader of a prominent family in the community or that her family depended on her. It only sought to flourish and in doing so, oftentimes destroyed the one it inhabited. It was a voracious invisible demon capable of holding on with a bulldog mentality for the mortal life of its victim.

He’d seen people born with it. It could strike in youth, middle age or elderly. It didn’t seek out a particular age group for it had no engrained or learned prejudices, no particular dislikes. It only sought to feed and there was no medicine to fight it’s never ending appetite.

In his years of service to those relying on his medical skills, Howard had seen it drive many to destruction and yet, he’d also witnessed some who fought against it. Some lost while others found a way to escape it’s dark tentacles. Some had battled back and won their private personal war with the demon.

Howard studied the woman who was still battling her unseen foe. The progress recovered from her initial descent was great and yet she still had more engagements to win before this war would be over.

He fully understood the fear she had of slipping and falling prey again to the demon’s clutches. It was a positive sign that she didn’t seek to wallow in the precarious darkness that tempted its victims with a haven of safety where there was none. For often it was easier to give in and allow the depression to take hold than to consistently find the strength to wage the battles. Victoria, herself, knew she was in a war and like the competitor she’d always had been – she had no intentions of losing.

“I know how important it is to my children…how much they want him here.” Inferred Victoria in a tortured whisper, her soft words halting his professional study of her countenance.

“Because he is their brother it is understandable, wouldn’t you agree?” questioned Howard in a quiet voice.

“Things sometimes are not so cut and dry.” Rebutted the tiny woman her gray eyes pleading for understanding. “There are times when it’s not so black and white. So this or that.”

Nodding, the dark haired man smiled, “It’s true. There are many aspects to life that are never a sure thing. Everyday we take chances and gambles. Sometimes simply by running down a set of stairs. You could do it a hundred times and then just that one time, you slip and fall. But what we need to ask ourselves is it worth it? Is that one chance out of a hundred worth the gamble of running down those stairs?”

“Some wouldn’t think so.” Countered Victoria.

“But many would.” Pointed out Howard as he reached over and patted her hand. “Many choose to live rather than not take the chance. Sitting in this room with you now, I wonder if perhaps you are unconsciously setting yourself up to fall down those stairs.”

Puzzled at his comment, the gray eyes met his before he continued, “I know how much Tom meant to you and how the trauma of it affected you. Looking around this room you shared, I see many reminders of him. His pipe still on the dresser and I bet if I opened the closet, his clothes are still there.”

“I like to have his things around me.” explained Victoria in a low shaky voice. “It’s comforting.”

Taking hold of her hands, Howard gently smiled, “I know, Victoria and as a widower myself, I understand how hard it is to let go of the past. But sometimes to move forward we have to cut the ties that bind us. Tom’s still in your heart and he lives in your children. His touch is on the land you two worked together. If you’re trying to put distance between yourself and what caused the depression, maybe the first step should be to take the hard step of moving on. Putting that foot forward in a small way by finally settling his place in this room.”

The small hands in his trembled and he watched as she slowly gazed around the room with wide opened eyes. He could almost see her mind thinking as she took in the reminders of the man she lost and missed each day in their place just as they were when he was there physically.

“Please think about it, Victoria. It will seem as if you’re leaving him behind but I assure you that’s not true. Tom is always with you.” Urged her old friend before standing. “Remember, I’m always here for you and so is your family. I’ll come out tomorrow and we can talk some more.”

Nodding slightly, she watched Howard walk to the door, her gray eyes staring at the plank of wood long after it closed and left her alone with her thoughts.

* * * * * * * *

Matt stood up from his place in the chair by the bedside when his nephew’s groans of pain filled the room before his eyelid fluttered slowly open. Pouring a glass of water, he held it to Heath’s mouth and supervised as several small sips were taken. Setting the glass on the bedside table, he watched the light blue eye blink away the remnants of sleep.

“Heath, I know it hurts to talk and doc said it should take care of itself in about four to five days.” Informed Matt quietly before taking in a deep breath at the questioning look he received. “He also told me you could blink once for yes and two for no.”

One slow blink.

“Good.” Smiled Matt before nervously clearing his throat. “When you’re ready to travel, will you come back with me? Will you come home?”

Chapter 57

In the depths of blue, he saw hesitation and turmoil. Waiting for the blink of an eye to grant him a positive answer to his wish, Matt Simmons took in a breath and gently sat on the bed so not to jar the injured man. Shaking his head, he grasped his nephew’s left hand.

“No, don’t answer that, Heath.” Stated the older man, his lips turning into a wry smile at the flaring of puzzlement in his nephew’s eye. “It’s not right for me to ask you now….when you’re like this…it’d be like taking advantage. This ain’t the time to discuss it. I’m sorry.”

Turning his hand slightly to weakly squeeze his uncle’s fingers, Heath stared into the dark eyes filled with apology. The blond wanted so much to communicate with this man who tried his best to help a boy filled with endless fury and distrust. Even though their last spoken words to each other two years ago had been flung out in a biting anger, he knew the true feelings for him which ran deep in his uncle’s heart.

Feeling the weak squeeze of his fingers, Matt smiled and nodded, “Yeah, me too boy.”

Grimacing as he tried to smile, Heath’s eye flashed with pain before he closed his lid trying to ignore all the throbbing and agonizing parts of his body. Feeling a cool cloth on the side of his face, he leaned slightly into the coolness and let his current state of weakness take him back into the comfort of darkness.

Matt held the wet towel to the battered face of his nephew, his eyes burning with anger over the man or men responsible for his condition. Taking a breath to calm himself, he realized he truly wasn’t sure what occurred and with a shake of his head knew only Kate Warne or the Barkleys would hold the answers he wanted.

Glancing outside at the gathering dark, he was reluctant to leave his nephew alone in this house surrounded by the two groups of enemies threatening his own future with Heath…Barkleys and Pinkertons. One offered a future of a family great with wealth and a name. The other offered no more than it had in the past and yet, he could never break their hold on his nephew. The bond of brotherhood and camaraderie was hard to resist or leave behind in the organization Heath had been a part of for many years.

Watching his nephew’s face grimace with pain even in sleep, the older man knew without a doubt he could kill the responsible parties if he came across them. His dark eyes blazed like cinders in his tan lined face and he would like to dispense his own brand of justice on the perpetrators. The older man knew if the younger was aware of his thoughts, he wouldn’t condone such an action for it would be out of the realm of Heath’s code of ethics, his code of justice.

Letting out a low sigh, Matt Simmons shook his head at the irony flowing through his mind. He had grown up in a house filled with love and two parents. Heath had grown up with no love and no parents. Yet of the two different beginnings to their childhoods, he who had everything, had crossed the line from right into wrong. His nephew who endured more than any child should had never strayed even a toe onto the side of wrong. The older man could only attribute it to the inner being of his nephew, the inner sense of good he must have received while in his mother’s womb.

Thinking of his only sibling brought a tender smile to his face and a tear to his eye. Studying the face of the man who was a male version of his sister, Matt Simmons swallowed a lump of deep remorse for failing the girl who was a fragile flower among sturdy weeds. If only she’d lived and he hadn’t strayed to the criminal side, he could have been there for Heath as a child and been the father he should have had.

Wiping his eyes at the soft knock on the bedroom door, Matt slowly raised from his spot, careful to not move the bed too much and disturb the resting blond. Turning, he walked to the door at Jarrod Barkley’s motioning and stepped into the hallway.

“Mr. Simmons, we have a spare room if you’d like to stay here instead of riding back to town.” Offered Jarrod quietly.

Surprise flew across the older man’s face at the invitation and he nodded slowly, “I’d appreciate that, Mr. Barkley. I would rather not leave Heath’s side if I don’t have to.”

“I understand.” Stated Jarrod before both men turned at the sound of another door opening in the stillness of the hallway.

Kate Warne smiled back into the room where Jackson Martin was cautiously trying out the crutches brought out by the town’s physician. Closing the door, she stopped at the two men staring at her with eyes filled with two sets of different emotions. Meeting their gazes without wavering, the agent’s steps took her nearer.

“Mr. Barkley, Jacks is up on the crutches and Dr. Merar says he’ll need them for a few weeks.” Informed Kate before meeting the eyes of Matt Simmons. “Jacks is the man who saved Heath.”

“I’d like to meet this man for he has my deepest gratitude.” Said Matt before adding in a forceful tone, “Then, I want to know how my nephew came to be in this condition, Agent Warne. Your wire didn’t hold much information.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Barkley will have to explain it to you, Mr. Simmons at least based on the information we have been able to piece together with the help of Jacks.” Replied Kate turning to meet the eyes of Jarrod. “I will be heading back to Stockton. The real gold shipment will be arriving tonight on the train.”

Chapter 58

Leaving Audra in the kitchen with Silas preparing a kettle of chicken broth for their injured sibling, Nick climbed the back stairs to the second floor. He felt his stomach muscles clenched as tight as a spring after his discussion with the family physician. Their mother was, he felt from the doctor’s words, at a critical juncture. She was standing at the crossroads and for all their wealth they possessed, for all the respect behind their family name – there was nothing they could do but wait. Wait to see which way she wanted to turn, which way she sought to take. Much like his promise to Heath, he’d promised Dr. Merar to not push her to making a decision. She had to come to terms with her inner self, her own way and in her own time.

Entering the hallway, the hazel eyes narrowed at the sight of Jarrod with his hat in hand and gun belt buckled around his waist. The blue tired eyes of his older brother met his.

“Nick, I’m heading into town with Agent Warne.” Informed Jarrod in a quiet voice. “The real gold shipment’s coming into town tonight by train.”

Snorting in disbelief, Nick ran a hand down his face and mumbled, “Forgot all about that damn gold.”

Smiling in agreement, Jarrod sighed, “Well, we did have other important matters on our minds, Nick.”

Casting a glance to the door which blocked his view of the room where Heath lay recovering, Nick frowned, “I hear his uncle’s here, Jarrod.”

Nodding, Jarrod studied his brother’s profile. “Yes, he’s in talking to Jacks right now….thanking him for what he did for Heath.”

“You talk to him much?” asked Nick forcing his eyes off the door and back to his brother’s.

“Some but not enough.” Admitted the eldest son as he twirled his hat in his hands and added. “I offered him a room for the night so he can stay with Heath.”

The hazel eyes flared with a moment of anger before good sense and ingrained hospitality took over. Though he knew it made sense to have Heath’s uncle stay at the mansion Nick was still overrode by a momentary sense of anger born from their lack of control. They had no control over Heath’s actions and with the man here, he could see the blond pulling away from them. He could almost envision the scene in his head….Heath on the left fork, their mother on the right and them stuck in between, helpless to stop either one and losing both in the process.

“Nick?” stated Jarrod in a low worried voice at the look of despair stealing into the hazel eyes of his brother. “You okay?”

Blinking at the sound of his brother’s concern, Nick shook his head and hissed, “Hell no I ain’t okay, Jarrod. Mother’s a mess, Heath’s hurting something fierce and I can’t do anything to help either one! No, I am far from okay!”

Jarrod saw the moisture glistening his physically strong brother’s eyes and pulled him into a quick hug, wanting nothing more than to make everything right for him. The rancher’s body trembled with the assault on his lion’s heart and he took the offered haven of his big brother’s love to gain control of himself. Nodding against the shoulder of Jarrod, Nick ran both hands down his face and sighed.

“Silas wants to know if Heath feels up to eating.” Said Nick before smiling slightly, “Jarrod watch yourself when you go into town. We don’t know where Turk and his men are. If they’re here or not. Just be careful, okay?”

Squeezing his little brother’s shoulder, Jarrod nodded his promise and watched Nick shuffle to the door of the guest room. Knocking softly more as a warning than permission to enter, the large calloused hand slowly turned the knob and he disappeared from his sight.

* * * * * * * *

Quietly closing the door behind him, Nick turned and stopped for a brief moment at the blue eye watching him. Smiling at the sight of Heath awake, he neared and sat by his injured sibling. Automatically, his hand reached upward to feel the forehead scrunched up slightly in pain and he smirked at the slow moving hand pushing weakly at his arm.

“Just checking for fever is all.” Informed Nick quietly as he lowered the shaky limb back to the bed. “No reason to get testy, Heath.”

When the knock sounded on his door, Heath had known exactly who it would be before the plank of wood opened and he openly stared at the rancher as he neared. The gesture of Nick feeling for fever in him took his breath away for a moment at the brotherly intimacy. Quick as a flash and quick as the bolt of pain across his body, he grew angry and irritable. He didn’t want what they now offered, he didn’t want it and he wouldn’t take it. His mind repeated the words in his head as he watched the large hands wring out a cloth and tenderly held it against the swelling of his face. His mind repeated the mantra at the look of acceptance in the hazel eyes keeping locked with his. His mind repeated the mantra when the hazel eyes dropped and the man stood to pull the sheet up further on his injured chest before smiling after he replaced the cloth on the side of his face for another.

“I think these wet cloths are helping.” Stated Nick quietly. “The side of your face still looks like hell but it’s not swelling any more. Silas says he’ll be up with some broth and more of that herb paste stuff.”

Dragging his eyes away from the single orb watching his every movement, Nick took in a deep breath and studied the fading light outside for several minutes, indecision flaring within him. Heath watched through a half opened lid at the man who seemed to be gathering himself for a confrontation and battling with himself. The minutes passed slowly before Nick seemed to come to a decision and retook his seat on the bed.

“I know I promised when we brought you here we wouldn’t push you but Heath….” Stopping his words Nick shook his head and found he couldn’t meet the eye of the man he made the promise to….the promise he wanted so much to break but couldn’t. “Never mind, little brother. I’ll…I’ll send Silas up with the broth.”

Heath watched with an eye filled with confliction at the man who fled from the room but not before he’d seen the dark despair in the hazel eyes and he felt responsible for the pain he was causing simply by being in a place where he truly didn’t belong. He wasn’t sure how long it was after he closed his eye that he felt someone in the room and he woke to find his uncle’s eyes tormented with a longing as they met his.

Taking in a breath that left him gasping at the pain from trying to expand his lungs against his battered ribs, the blond closed his eye and shut out the reminder of anguish in his uncle’s eyes. Two different men both wanting the same thing and both in turmoil….turmoil caused by him.

Chapter 59

Gone was the adrenaline from Billy Mayfield’s body, surging through his veins from his first official gunfight when the gang attacked the fake gold train. His hands shook like a souse purifying his system of alcohol at the first tossing of lead when the white canvas rigging from the wagon was lowered. The life and death struggle, good versus evil was chaotic and mind blowing, a grandiose test for the young man’s first taste of powder.

The men charging towards them intent on their deadly deed saw the futility of their mission too late. At a time when violence was a part of daily life, Billy found he enjoyed the rush, the moment that revealed truth of character. He had his first morsel and it melted on his tongue like a piece of hard rock candy.

The adrenaline was gone now replaced with a tremor of pain. The fight was nearing the end when Billy, Fred and Mickey Flanagan had taken off after the mammoth leader of the gang who fled at the sight of the extra guns in the wagons. The leader turned tail and ran, flinging shots backwards at his pursuers.

A lucky hit tumbled Billy out of the saddle before Jediah Turkelson lay dying from the other men’s bullets riddling his body. The projectile tore through the deputy’s muscles and skin, entering through a circular hole like a hot knife through butter before exiting out a larger hole in the upper quadrant of his back. The shock of the sudden onslaught of agony left the deputy unconscious and when he’d come to, his wound had been cleaned and bandaged and Fred was leaning over him, pride filling his aged eyes.

The deputy refused to ride in the slow moving wagon taking the two gang members who lived to Stockton, preferring to stay with his boss and mentor. Fred glanced to his right, worry deepening the furrows in his forehead at the hand of his deputy clenched tightly to the saddle horn. Looking past the younger man who was sitting slightly hunched over and forward, he caught the eye of Mickey Flanagan who rode close to Billy’s right side.

Both men knew it was only sheer cussedness keeping the deputy seated on top of his horse. Mickey’s brown eyes glittered with admiration for the younger of the trio, not only for his determination to not be left behind but also for the natural fighter that emerged at the start of the battle. The smell of gun powder scorching the deputy’s nostrils hadn’t turned him into a quivering mass of flesh. The younger man had been tested and passed the examination with exemplary marks. Billy Mayfield had been rock solid when it counted.

The shadow of a smile spread across Mickey’s at the reminder of another young man who’d proven himself to be worthy in the heat of the moment, time and time again. The moment when you’re tested by the feel of the disturbed air as bullets pass by your mortal body. Course the deputy was also similar to another man by simply sure stubbornness alone as well as his worthiness in his chosen profession…..Heath Thomson.

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, the Pinkerton agent tried to force down the suffocating unknowns in his mind. His stomach clenched for the blond peer who was out there somewhere….injured or dead. A bitter bile rose upward and he nearly lost the battle to keep it down. Knowing it was an unwritten rule, their missions or investigations taking precedence over an agent’s well being, didn’t make him feel any better.

Heath was out there somewhere and just like they had done in the past when a similar situation arose, they finished the job they were assigned to do first. The blond became a secondary concern, a secondary thought in the eyes of the detective agency. He was a tool to be used and if god forbid it worked out the wrong way in the end, he was a tool to be discarded. Thrown away with an offhand carelessness for all that mattered was keeping the motto intact. The Pinkertons always got their woman or man…no matter what it took….no matter the cost.

Billy’s jaw hurt from his clenching it against the cloudburst of pain each time the horse set his hooves down. He didn’t think he would ever get his fingers unwound from the saddle horn without help for the grip left them stiff and rigid. The forest fire in his shoulder reached outward with its tentacles of flame and he wondered if anything could douse its heat. Between the throbbing and burning, he found he was slightly surprised at himself. He’d never been shot before or injured in any way on the job and he found it had no effect on his thirst to bring justice to his small part of the world.

Leaning his head down and shuddering at a particularly vicious stabbing of pain, he felt the hand of the Pinkerton agent on his right grab hold of his shirt. Billy realized he must have swayed and he was grateful for the agent’s intervention that kept him in the saddle. Turning his head, he nodded to the man’s questioning look and smiled gratefully when the fist slowly unwound itself from the material of his shirt.

Billy could feel the anxiousness in the man beside him. It rolled off the agent in a cycle of continuous waves rushing up to the shoreline, back and forth, back and forth. The anxiousness he was sure was due to their lack of knowledge of Heath Thomson’s well-being. The blond Pinkerton whose eyes flashed cold and hard behind the bars of the cell. The man whose temperament turned from lawman to wounded animal within seconds. Wounded from the family’s casting off of him in the past, their lack of recognizing the truth in his words of two years ago.

The deputy used the opportunity of being hidden in the back of the wagon to examine his thoughts on the man he knew was the brother of his fiancée. Now after internally pondering and reviewing all he knew without a fog of emotion, he could see beneath the Pinkerton veneer of the blond agent. He could see in his mind’s eye, the Barkley hidden under the name of Thomson. The agent fit with the others of the family….his Barkley traits were beyond the physical….they extended deep inside of him.

The blond fit with them whether he admitted it or not. He fit like the other half of a coin, like butter on bread, a cowboy to a horse. He was the calm to their stormy existence over the past two years. He was….one of them….a fighter…a survivor….a leader…a champion…a Barkley.

“They’re all…tough, ya’ know.” Stated Billy, his words releasing slowly and off cycle with the pain shuddering through him.

Frowning, Mickey wondered if the deputy was spiking a fever from his sudden muttering and replied, “Who’s tough?”

“Barkleys.” Sighed Billy before adding at the look on the Pinkerton’s face. “He’s…a…Barkley…too.”

“Thomson?” queried Mickey even though he knew who the younger man was alluding to.

Nodding once, Billy grimaced before letting a smile curve his lips, “Ornery…like…the rest…we’ll...find…him.”

Reaching out suddenly and latching onto the shirt of the deputy who finally lost to the agony, Mickey studied the pale face in the fading light and smiled while his horse fidgeted restlessly from the closeness of the other equine.

“I believe ya’, Billy. I know we will.” Reassured Mickey softly finding he was immensely positive at the deputy’s forced words.

Chapter 60

The darkness of the night had fallen outside and Kate listened to the details of the flawless gold delivery from the agent in charge of that portion of the investigation. The office of the Wells Fargo had been opened and Paul Petrone oversaw the disposition of the gold safely in the massive safe. The brunette nodded to the agent’s report and left the man to dictate the scheduling of his men to add extra protection to the plunder responsible for the downfall of many since its first discovery centuries ago. Taking in a breath at the sight of Jarrod Barkley standing in the doorway with the majority holder of the mine, she headed to the two men.

“Mr. Petrone, Agent Fields will place some of his men around the perimeter to ensure no one else is thinking of making a play for the gold.” Informed Kate gesturing to the tall man on the other side of the room.

“Thank you, Agent Warne, I will sleep better tonight knowing that.” Admitted the portly man, wiping his face with a wrinkled cloth. “Hopefully your agents were able to catch the gang with the decoy train.”

“Until we know the outcome of that part of the plan, the Pinkerton agents who brought the gold in will be assigned here.” Stated Kate. “Good night, sir.”

“Night, Agent Warne. Jarrod.” Offered Paul offhandedly, making his way to the agent pointed out by Kate.

“Miss Warne, are you ready to head back to the ranch?” asked Jarrod.

Kate shook her head. “Thank you for driving me in but I’ll remain in town. Until we know what happened with the other gold train, this thing isn’t finished. I need to be here to wait for word, Mr. Barkley. Good night.”

Jarrod reached out and placed a hand on her arm as she moved past him in the doorway. Light blue eyes met her curious orbs as he offered quietly, “Let me drive you to your house, Miss Warne. I’d like to speak with you privately.”

Studying the blue eyes for a moment, Kate fought the inclination to deny his request but instead found herself agreeing with a slight nod. Jarrod smiled and walked the female agent to the surrey, helping her up onto the seat before moving to the other side and climbing in. The quiet between them while it hung heavy in the air was not uncomfortable, it was more thought driven.

Maneuvering the surrey through Stockton with the light of the full moon, the two were in front of the Brenner house on the edge of town within minutes.

Kate let the way to the house rented by her and Mickey, unlocking the door and entering. Lighting a lamp, she turned up the flame before closing the heavy curtains on the window effectively shutting out any views from the outside.

“Coffee?” asked Kate receiving a nod from the prominent attorney.

Jarrod followed the brunette carrying the lamp into the room at the back of the house, taking a seat at the table she directed him to. Kate busied herself with lighting a fire and starting a pot of water.

“What exactly is on your mind, Mr. Barkley?” questioned the female agent though she had a fair idea of his thoughts already.

Studying the slender woman who was moving about the kitchen, Jarrod found he was having a difficult time readying his thoughts for a moment. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to know first and also wasn’t sure he wanted to cause any flare up of anger in her brown eyes. Indecision and indecisiveness were two traits foreign to him. He was a man who used his ability to read people, his study of the human race to enhance his capability as an attorney.

At no response from her escort, Kate turned and studied the emotions battling themselves out in the sky blue eyes and on his face as she leaned against the counter. She could easily sense in him the knowledge he was thirsting for, the answers he wanted….the information to somehow ensure Heath would welcome a chance to be in their family and wanting to know who was this man that came from Strawberry…their current immediate threat to their goal.

“Don’t let Matt Simmons fool you, Mr. Barkley.” Stated Kate suddenly, her words lifting his face upwards. “While he is not the nicest or happiest person I’ve had the pleasure to meet, he has only Heath’s best interest at heart. He’s not a man who likes to talk or show how he feels.”

Remembering the older man’s quick conversation with the female Pinkerton in the hallway, Jarrod arched an eyebrow in disbelief before adding, “He didn’t appear to possess any reluctance to show you how angry he was at you, Miss Warne.”

Shrugging, Kate turned to dump the grounds into the boiling water, waiting til it boiled to settle the grounds with more water. Pouring two cups to the table and setting one down before Jarrod, she took a seat across from him and smiled.

“Simmons has always seen any of Heath’s Pinkerton peers in a not so good light. Me more than others due to the close friendship Heath and I share.” Admitted Kate with a long sigh. “He acts so because he’s afraid of one day receiving word his nephew’s gone. Heath is the only family he has, Mr. Barkley and he is forever trying to persuade him to work with him.”

“But Heath won’t?” prodded Jarrod, a shadow of a frown passed over his face at his instincts questioning her sudden openness to discuss his brother and her friend.

“Heath was going to. He even had his resignation papers filled out one time.” Informed Kate softly, letting out a long sigh.

“What stopped Heath from resigning?” asked Jarrod, his heart stilling in his chest.

“Your family, Mr. Barkley.” Answered Kate shaking her head at her memories. “First it was the investigation of your father’s murder. Then he and his uncle had a terrible row about him coming here two years ago. After the argument, Heath returned to Chicago. His uncle sent letter after letter that Heath left unopened til he worked through his anger.”

Running his hands through his hair, Jarrod closed his eyes for a moment before the racing heart in his chest steadied and he met the sad brown eyes with his own shocked orbs.

“Now my brother will feel he has to choose, won’t he, Kate. Between us or Simmons?” Queried Jarrod, his low voice trembling slightly. “Do you think he’ll make a choice or will he just carry on with his life? Will he choose the Pinkertons over what his family wants again? ”

“I don’t know what he’ll do.” Suggested Kate softly. “Heath has already been through a lot in his life….he may not want another….”

“Obstacle?” interjected Jarrod.

“Admittedly, Mr. Barkley, it is easier for a person to go on as they have been than to fight against the tide. Much as your mother is doing right now…we may watch as Heath does the same.” Replied Kate in an apologetic voice. “Your mother’s comfort is the memory of her husband. Heath’s is his job and the closeness of the Pinkerton agency…they are his family too.”

Continued…