Retribution

Chapters 1-23

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 1

Nestled under the sun amongst the beautiful countryside of California, Stockton, was a town growing and thriving. The main street in it’s beginnings contained only a simple general mercantile, a shabby hotel and a run down saloon. Now, the main street was littered with shops and businesses. The affluent abundant times prospered the town, caressing the glowing flicker to a flame.

Families moved to the thriving community. Churches, schools and a library were erected to satisfy the needs of religion, education and an enjoyable past time for many in the surrounding area.

Stockton lay only 45 miles south of Sacramento, the distance at one time seemed overwhelming and the trail treacherous to travel. Banditos and other rogue men who lived on the edges of the law preyed on the innocent travelers.

With the increase of families in the area came a loud demand for civilized rules and regulations. The hard working citizens would not allow the scurvy elements of society to rob them of their rewards, their very livelihoods. So with the demands from the society as a whole, the town hired their first lawman with many more to follow. The safety of the citizens for the most part was secure because of the long arm of the law.

The trails leading across the state and traveled by horse, buggy or stage coach were still filled with peril and the dangers in the outlying area were slowly being taken care of. With the advancement of the rail system throughout the country, the city of Sacramento could be reached in a day without worry or concern from those few who attacked from hiding on the trails. The railroad was doing its part in the young country to further society’s need for safety and security.

The lawmen in the various towns were joining up to fight against the criminal elements together. No longer could a rogue member of society ride into a town blatantly and know the law would not bother him as long as he did not cause a problem during his stay there. No longer was that true. The society as a whole demanded the people who lived on the wrong side of the law were found, tried and sentenced. As the towns grew and prospered, the citizens demanded the wilder ones be tamed.

The land area of the town of Stockton is approximately 56 square miles. The warm days and cool nights filled the summer months while the winter contained mild temperatures and rarely below freezing. Light rains fell during the winter months and was an essential element to help stave off the effects of drought in the summer’s heat.

At one time, the town was known as the ‘city of the thousand tents’ since it originally began as a gold town. The town was founded by a German immigrant who acquired the acreage of land through a Spanish land grant. The place was previously referred to as Tuleberg until Charles Weber changed the name to Stockton.

Tom and his beautiful wife, Victoria Marie fell in love with the valley from the moment they saw it. Standing as one on the ridge, each saw the potential in the fertile ground and the abundant water sources. They saw a place where they would raise their family and many future generations. It was from Charles Weber, Thomas Jonathan Barkley, purchased the land for his home.

That was how it began over twenty seven years ago. It started with the sale of land and the handing over of a deed the young couple thought was valid.

However, unbeknownst to them, it would end today.

Today, the world would come crashing down on the family who helped to draw other families to their small corner of the world. Today, his past indiscretion was to be brought to the forefront, quick as a rock from a slingshot, it would be brought into the spotlight for the community and his family to witness.

Checking the paperwork once more and putting it in his pocket, Heath Morgan Thomson glanced at his reflection in the mirror of his hotel room. His eyes filled with guilt for a moment before his mind flashed a picture of his mother.

Her tiny fingers bleeding and torn from scrubbing clothes against a washboard for mere pennies. Her tears crying when she couldn’t feed him at night. Her face bruised from her brother’s hand when the shame of being related to the town’s whore angered him in a drunken stupor. Her smiles were few and far between.

His mother, beautiful at one time, had slowly been driven to her death by hard work, hard words and hard times. All because she loved her son. A child whose father was Thomas Jonathan Barkley. A man who left his mark and then left her behind with a child growing in her small body.

Clenching his jaw and allowing the picture of his mother gasping for her last breath on her deathbed to fill him with a rage he usually kept reined in, the blond buckled on his gunbelt and picked up his tan hat.

Nodding to the desk clerk, he bypassed the wiry man and headed out into the early morning light. Walking to the livery, he saddled his modoc and turned towards the west as the sun was rising behind him. The fiery reds painting the landscape matched the fury in his pale blue eyes.

Chapter 2

The pale blue eyes in the tanned face slowly calmed as his body instinctively moved with his cantering horse and his eyes roamed appreciatively across the landscape provided by nature. The picturesque scene could have been part of a painting, it was perfect and beautiful in the tranquil serenity of the early morning.

A frown moved across his face. Heath realized he’d traveled all over this state in the past years since he’d left Strawberry but somehow had never come to this section. He’d been north past Sacramento and up to Klamath, south past Los Angeles and almost all the way to Del Mar. He’d even been west of Stockton spending a short time working the docks in San Francisco and east working past Strawberry into Nevada.

It was ironic. He’d been darn near everywhere around the town where the man he now knew as his father resided and built his empire. But he’d never been to Stockton until his arrival late last night.

The name of the man who sired him was well known throughout the state. He’d heard the name Barkley long before he found out the significance it would hold for him. After his mother confessed on her death bed the name he’d asked her to reveal all his young life, he’d been stunned into immobility until she gasped for her last taste of air.

After her death and with the name of the man he’d despised all his life for leaving he and his mother in the rat infested dying town, he’d placed a last kiss on her forehead, the paper thin skin cold and unfeeling. He was numbed by her passing and the whispered name.

The name of one of the wealthiest men in California resonated through his head, echoing continually, fueling his anger, working it into a full boil and he stormed out from the small home of his mother, not hearing the calls of his name.

Focused on the driving idea in his head, he found himself in the livery beside his modoc and holding his saddle. He would ride straight to Stockton and not stop til he reached the Barkley ranch. His rage had him trying to saddle his horse with fumbling fingers until the work scarred hands of Thaddeus stopped him.

Thaddeus Benton, his father-in-law and a man he respected above all others, demanded to know where he was going. Thad would not be swayed from his questioning by the scowls and anger exuding from him. The older man continued demanding until the deathbed confession stammered out of his mouth, his words twisting up with grief.

The grief of a boy who’d lost the only parent he’d ever known. The grief for all she’d suffered through, the hell she’d endured from those in the miserable mining town who felt she was the lowest form of humanity. She suffered simply to keep his name to herself. The name of his father who was a married man when he took her to bed. The name of the man who never bothered to check on the possible ramifications to his actions of that one night. Even now, he wasn’t sure how he made his way back to the house that day for once the floodgates opened, he couldn’t stop the outpouring of anguish and grief.

Stopping Gal on the road, Heath Thomson took his canteen and untwisted the cap, his eyes studying the brand over the prominent gate while he drank from the metal container.

Surprisingly, he was calm inside, much like the calm which was in the eye of a hurricane. The turbulent winds, the driving rains of emotions passed through him and he was serene inside.

The gate signified the start of the Barkley range. The range Charles Weber mistakenly thought was included in his spanish land grant. The very same range he’d sold to a young Tom Barkley and his wife.

With the help of his father-in-law, a retired banker turned small rancher and some contacts he’d made over the years within the Texas Rangers, a discreet gathering of information started. He knew more about the Barkley family than they more than likely did themselves. It was through the investigation of the ranch and the various holdings of the empire that he’d stumbled upon the discrepancy.

The old land grant’s boundaries were muddled in some places but one section clearly stated Charles Weber owned one hundred sixty square acres. Stockton as it stood now covered approximately fifty-six square acres which left one hundred four acres left.

It appeared Charles Weber miscalculated the boundaries of land he had left and sold off a part he did not own. In fact, the land on which the Barkley ranch stood was actually owned by the Luis Alvarez land grant. When approached, the spaniard who was nearing seventy years old took the offered amount for he did not wish to go up against the wealthy Barkley family and the substantial lump sum would be left for his grandchildren. A last gift from a grandfather to ensure the little ones he left behind did not want or have to suffer as he had all his life.

Replacing the cap on the canteen and wrapping the strap around the saddle horn, he stepped down and opened the gate, leading his modoc through before closing it. Opening his pocket watch, he avoided looking at the picture of his wife not wanting to see the look in her eyes which he knew would be there.

The look not of disappointment but of worry. Worry for the anger he’d felt ever since his mama spoke the name. Worry he would be hurt, not physically but inside where he tended to keep things bottled up.

He had promised Thad and his wife, Evangeline he would ride to the ranch and give the man a chance to own up to who he was. His saddlebags contained the documentation to prove his identity and the items found in his mama’s small house were evidence Tom Barkley knew her.

Neither his father-in-law or his wife knew he held the rightful deed to the Barkley range. If they’d have known, he was positive both of their voices would have sounded with disbelief then disapproval and they would have stopped him or followed.

For never had he ever deliberately set out to hurt anyone. Never in his miserable experience as a boy in the hell hole mining town. Not even after he survived in a place where grown men had perished under the strain of the unspeakable horrors and conditions.

He’d never maliciously harmed anyone but today he was prepared to inflect cruelty with a simple piece of paper if he was met with denial or denouncement.

Chapter 3

Topping a small hill on the trail crossing the Barkley land, he gasped and reined in Gal, his eyes widening at the sight below him. Closing his mouth which had fallen open at the ranch nestled in the valley, he couldn’t stop his eyes from staring at the well planned site.

Nudging his modoc down the hill, he could see in each detail the care and planning taken when the buildings were erected. The barns and corrals situated to complement each other, close enough to facilitate moving stock from one to the other without difficulty. The corrals were large, a necessary use of space for a thriving ranch.

The fences surrounding the base site were white, the barns painted to match as well as the building he assumed was the bunkhouse. A large rectangular shaped building which he guessed could house at least forty to fifty hands.

The grounds were meticulously cared for, the gardens full of flowers and hedges were trimmed to accent the beds. The trees in the orchards could be seen from a distance. The orchards were a steadily growing side business for the Barkley family. They had within the space of ten years made an impact on the markets with their wines and fruit produce.

Finally, his eyes fell upon the mansion. The three story house built as their ventures took off and their wealth grew. The building spoke of beauty, riches and more than anything else, warmth. The outer sides of the structure were softened with strategically placed pine bushes, hanging flower pots graced the entryway and his eyes fell upon the furniture placed on the grand stoop.

It was easy to imagine a man and woman sitting there at night, under the brilliant lights in the sky and talking about their dreams. Making plans for their futures and how to raise their children while building an empire.

Pulling up in front of the hitch rail suddenly aware of a feeling of eyes upon him, Heath dismounted and wrapped the reins over the wooden rail, taking a few moments to rub Gal’s velvety nose and whisper to her. He scanned the buildings from under the brim of his hat and was not disappointed at what he’d seen from afar. The ranch was well taken care of and only diligence could keep it in such a fine state.

It seemed everything the Barkley family touched thrived and grew, expanded and profited or glistened with the pride. Everything except him, the one who was here but didn’t belong.

Taking a deep breath, Heath patted Gal’s neck and walked to the front door, his knuckles rapping on the rich oak wood. Dressed in a blue shirt, tan vest and tan pants the blond felt an urge to turn around and ride off. It was a fleeting fear he shook off, squaring his shoulders instead and looking up when the wood door opened.

“Can I’s help ya’, sir?” asked the older black gentleman, cautious of the young man he didn’t recognize and protective of the family he worked with.

“I’d like to see Mr. Barkley, sir. Thomas J. Barkley.” stated Heath offering a small grin to alleviate the tension he was experiencing.

“Is Mr. Barkley ‘pectin’ ya?” questioned Silas, knowing the patriarch preferred Sundays as a day of rest and family unless it was roundup or trail drive time.

“No, he’s not.” admitted Heath. “I just reckoned he’d be home today. Being it’s Sunday.”

“SILAS, WHOSE AT THE DOOR?” came the loud shout from inside causing the ebony man to jump slightly.

Stepping aside and holding the door open, Silas answered the shouted question as the young man entered, “This gentleman is here ta see Mr. Barkley, Mr. Nick.”

Taking off his hat, Heath held it in his hands and nodded when the older man instructed him to stay in the foyer while he went for the head of the family. Nick studied the blond and frowned, feeling a moment of familiarity before crossing over and holding out his hand.

“Nick Barkley.”

Hesitating for only a flicker of an eyelash, Heath reached out and took hold of the strong tanned hand, looking up into the hazel eyes. “Heath Thomson.”

Releasing his hold, Nick crossed his arms over his chest and smiled, “I don’t believe we’ve met. You new around here?”

Nodding, the blond replied, “Yep. I’ve never been here before, Mr. Barkley.”

“Oh.” said Nick. “You planning on settling around here?”

“Might. Things are kinda up in the air right now.” answered Heath vaguely, his eyes moving past the dark haired man to the older man descending the large staircase.

“Good morning, I understand you’re here to see me.” greeted Tom, his face as tanned as his dark haired son’s, his dark hair peppered with silver. Brown eyes briefly studied the young stranger in puzzlement.

Nick watched the light blue eyes narrow slightly as he heard his father approach from behind him, his curiosity raising tenfold at the jaw muscles which quivered in the younger man’s face.

Here he was, Thomas Jonathan Barkley, his father. The man who had eluded him for the past twenty three years and now he was finally able to look into his eyes.

“Mr. Barkley, my name is Heath Thomson.” said Heath, focusing on the brown eyes in the tanned face. “Originally from Strawberry and I’d like a word with you.”

Strawberry rang through the mind of the Barkley patriarch and a youthful beautiful face flashed in his mind, the memory of a love lost, a love which had been forbidden.

Tilting his head slightly, Tom paused before suggesting. “Have we met before, Mr. Thomson?”

“Not at all.” informed the blond with a low voice. “It won’t take but a few minutes, Mr. Barkley. It is a private matter, sir.”

Nick looked between his father and the young stranger, the two of them seemed to have forgotten he was with them. He felt an almost electric charge in the air between them and he moved to follow when his father lead the blond to the study.

“Nick, we need a few minutes.” said Tom after opening the study door and allowing the young man to pass by.

“Father?” whispered Nick, not sure if the blond was up to good or bad and reluctant to leave his father alone with him.

“I’ll be fine, son.” whispered Tom. “Please let your mother know we’ll have to attend the late service.”

“Yes, Father.” sighed Nick, scowling at the closed door before turning and heading up the staircase, unable to get the face of the stranger out of his mind.

Chapter 4

When he was a child he imagined his absentee father in a variety of ways, his mind held a fertile imagination, a necessary tool he utilized in his solitary play. As a child he’d make up excuses in his head, reasons to explain why the man whose love, guidance and even discipline he craved never appeared.

Perhaps he was an adventurer like Columbus sailing across the oceans to new lands. Perhaps he were like Myles Standish helping some pilgrims settle a new land. Perhaps he was away because he was mapping the world like Lewis and Clark.

He imagined alone and played alone in the small mining town. The supposed god fearing citizens of the town refused to allow their children to associate with the son of the town whore, the bastard. The labels many and the praises few in his life from those in the town.

The righteous, nose raising townspeople didn’t care that Leah Thomson had lain with two men in her life, her dead husband Charles Sawyer and the man she couldn’t resist after her first glimpse of him. Those people condemned her for falling and enjoying in one night of blissful decadence. They held the ladies working the upper rooms in the saloon who used their bodies in exchange for money in a higher regard than his mama.

Heath took in a breath of air to steady himself further and glanced around the room while the older man spoke quietly to his son, Nick before entering and closing the door. The furnishings in the room were of the highest quality, the wood rich and masculine, polished to a shine. The large desk and black leather chair in the corner encompassed a work space but somehow seemed to meld with the flow of the area and it belonged like everything else in the room.

The clicking of the latch sounded in the quiet room, signaling the privacy requested and Heath turned.

“So, you said you’re from Strawberry, Mr. Thomson?” asked Tom pointing to a chair and receiving a negative shake of the young man’s head.

Holding his hat in his hands, Heath stood before the large fireplace and declined the invitation to sit, waiting til the older man took a seat in a high backed chair.

“Originally yes. Now, I live outside Carson City.” stated Heath quietly, his fingers turning his hat in an unconscious gesture.

“Carson City?” repeated Tom watching the blond intently, puzzling at the contours of his face. “I have never been there myself.”

Smiling wryly, Heath shrugged, “It’s much better than Strawberry, sir.”

The grin which lifted the corner of the young man’s lips left the mouth of Tom Barkley dry as a desert. The moisture seemed drained away at the small gesture and his heart thundered in his chest. His mind flashed a vision, a female version of the face before him. Yes, he could see her in the young man before him.

“I owned part of a mine in Strawberry at one time.” offered Tom, taking in a shallow breath, unable to tear his eyes away from the pale blue orbs.

“Yes, I know Mr. Barkley.” admitted Heath keeping locked onto the brown eyes across the room. “My mother was Leah Thomson.”

“I thought so.” stated Tom with a smile. “I can see her in you. You have the same eyes and facial features. How is your mother?”

“She passed away six months ago.” replied Heath softly, looking away for a moment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Your mother was a good person.” stammered Tom, feeling genuine sorrow and also uncomfortable with the immense sadness gracing the blue eyes before they turned.

“Yes, she was.” sighed Heath, taking a moment before looking back towards the older man. “You left Strawberry late August and I was born in the beginning of May the following year, Mr. Barkley.”

Brown eyes widened and the tanned hands trembled slightly before the older man sprang up from the chair, his years not showing in the quick movement. Staring at the young man, the leader of the Barkley family’s mind was calculating the timeframe rapidly, his face draining of all color.

“What are you implying exactly?” demanded Tom, suddenly feeling as if the room were closing in and pushing down on him, the air thickening as he stood there was preventing his lungs from being taken in.

“I’m not implying anything, Mr. Barkley. I’m telling you another thing you don’t know. You are the man responsible for my birth. When you left Strawberry, you left something behind.” informed the blond, his calm manner a decoy to the real emotion inside of him.

Shaking his head in denial, Tom ran a hand through his hair and snarled, “No, that’s not possible. You’re lying!”

The previous sadness in his eyes at the mention of his mother’s death was gone in a flash, replaced with anger at the denial flung out into the room.

“I can prove it.” hissed Heath, the red hot lava inside him rising. “I have documentation, Mr. Barkley.”

“It’s not possible! She said she was barren!” snapped Tom pacing the floor, unable to get a handle on his rampaging thoughts and out of control emotions over the incident of the past coming back to haunt him now.

“She was married for two years and couldn’t conceive then her husband was killed in a flood. Besides she would have contacted me if that’d happened.”

“I can’t tell you anything about what you and her thought. All’s I know is I’m here and my birth…”

“I don’t care what documentation you have.” roared Tom suddenly, turning and facing the blond whose eyes were darker with his rage. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do by coming here but whatever it is, you can forget it!”

Striding across the room, Heath clenched his hands into fists and stopped two feet from the older man, blue eyes boring into brown and his teeth ground together in fury.

“Such a nice fatherly gesture, sir.” growled Heath, his voice loaded with sarcasm. “What did I think I was going to get? It could have been simply the chance to know you, to see you and talk to you. I have hated you all my life, hated someone I don’t even know cause of what my mama went through. Now, I want it all and I’ll have it! Read this and sleep well, Father!”

Grabbing at the paper pushed up against his chest, Tom watched the blond yank open the door and leave the room, his boots ringing out across the foyer from his angry strides. The slamming of the front door shook the grand house and he stared at the paper in his hand, slowly opening it and grabbing onto the nearest chair for support.

Nick entered the study, running over when his father wavered and grabbed onto the chair, taking hold of the ghastly paled man and stammering, “Father, what’s wrong? Father?”

Chapter 5

The force of the slamming of the impressive oak door rattled the windows in the three story house, shaking the glass panes in their casings. Stepping into the hallway, Victoria rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation, making a mental note to speak to her youngest son about his departure which matched the loudness of his entrances into their home. She wasn’t sure if the structure could stand up to his exuberance and passion.

Jarrod stepped out of his bedroom smiling and bent to place a kiss on his mother’s cheek, “Morning, mother.”

“Morning, dear.” greeted Victoria, gray eyes smiling up at her first born and taking the gallantly offered arm.

Jarrod winked at his mother before knocking on his sister’s door and calling out, “Hurry Audra! Father said if you make us late for church again, he’ll take away your dress allowance for the month!”

Snickering, Victoria shook her head of silver hair and swatted her son’s arm playfully, the amused blue eyes twinkling down at his mother.

“Good morning to you too, big brother!” shouted the female voice from behind the door, the sound of rushing feet in the room could be heard in the hallway before they continued on.

“Why is it your sister can rise with the sun every day to go for a ride but not get ready on time for church on Sunday?” asked Victoria with a sigh while walking beside her attorney son down the grand staircase.

“If you let her ride to church on Dusty wearing her riding outfit, I’m sure that would be an incentive, Mother. Can you hear the gossip around the ladies circle now?” teased Jarrod with a chuckle.

“Good heavens, Jarrod, don’t give your sister any ideas!” scolded Victoria, well aware of how head strong her daughter could be, matching her brothers and father in stubbornness.

“FATHER!”

The loud anguished cry from the study stopped them in their tracks for a split second before they rushed into the room. Victoria gasped at her husband who was trembling and being helped to a seat on the settee by her youngest son.

“TOM!” cried Victoria, rushing over and dropping beside the pale man struggling for air, her shaking fingers reaching and undoing his tie before opening the top buttons on his starched shirt. “NICK, WHAT HAPPENED!”

Nick stood beside the settee, his hands clenched on the edge with a white knuckled grip, hazel eyes locked on the older man were wide with fear.

“I..don’t know, Mother! He was fine til he…” stammered Nick stopping suddenly and glancing at his father whose eyes were closed. “He was okay til that stranger left. I came in and found him like this.”

“What stranger?” asked Jarrod.

“Timson…no..Thomson. Heath Thomson was his name, from Strawberry.” replied Nick. “He…he wanted to speak with Father alone.”

Victoria froze, her mouth opening at the name and her eyes finding her husband’s opened lids, her gray eyes finding the dazed blue eyes in his stricken face.

“Heath…Thomson.”

Jarrod and Nick barely heard their mother whisper the name of the stranger before her hands dropped from her husband’s shirt and she moved slightly away. Both sons looked at each other puzzled by the look of devastation on their mother’s face and her shaken appearance.

“Tom?” quivered Victoria suddenly feeling the air in her chest constricting with anxiety and nervousness, her mind going back twenty three years before, her stomach tossing with sickness at the scene she was reliving. “Tom?”

The vulnerable look in the gray eyes and the tremor in her voice shook the patriarch to his very soul. The surname and the town enough to send the couple back to a time of great strife, great pain between them. A time when their lives and marriage had been in a downward spiral, the trust shattered between them with a slip of his marriage vows.

“Mother, should we get the doc?” questioned Jarrod, unsure of what exactly was transpiring and not liking the pale looks of either parent.

“NO!” choked out Tom, suddenly able to take in enough air to regain a semblance of control, shaking his head negatively. Reaching out with his left hand, he grabbed onto the small hand closest to him and swallowed to push the lump down in his throat.

“Is he her son?” whispered Victoria focusing only on the face of her husband, forgetting her boys were in the room, only trying to get past her own state of shock and sense of foreboding.

Nodding slightly, Tom opened his mouth and closed it several times, unable to find the words to soften the blow he was about to deliver to her and his family. Taking a deep breath, he unclenched his right hand and the clutched papers opened, the wrinkled parchments sitting in his large palm.

“What is it, Tom?” demanded the silver haired woman forcefully, squeezing his hand with both of hers. “Just say it.”

Glancing at his sons, he looked back into the loving gray eyes of his wife and shook his head in disbelief, his eyes filling with tears.

“Forgive me, Victoria, I had no idea. I swear I didn’t.” pleaded Tom, before staring at the papers in his hand. “This says I’m his father and he somehow has a legal deed to our ranch.”

Chapter 6

‘This says I’m his father and he somehow has a legal deed to our ranch’ rang through the room long after the words had left the patriarch’s mouth. They hung in the atmosphere, the air suddenly oppressive to the family members.

“Victoria….”

Holding out a hand to stop any further words from the man she’d married over thirty years ago, Victoria closed her eyes and shook her head negatively, not wanting to speak knowing she would burst into tears.

Sitting forward on the settee, Tom leaned his elbows on his knees and reread the papers again, shuffling the pages forward and then back in a constant cycle. Rereading each even though his quick mind had already memorized the words. The print would be forever burned into his eyes, forever remembered.

The sons stared at their father stunned for the moment beyond words, watching as he aged before their very eyes.

Their father, the leader of their family was a man who spared neither praise or punishment as they were raised. He could fill them with pride for a job well done or send a quiver of fear through them with a simple look when either of his sons didn’t toe the line. He was a man who raised his children to live by the example of his own life, his own values and his own morals.

Jarrod regained his center after mentally deciding to act as an attorney for the moment and not a son to this man, unsure if he could take on both roles at the time. The attorney in him needed factual information, something tangible to convey why they were receiving this shock.

The son in him was repulsed at what one parent had done to another. Even though from his mother’s whispered question ‘Is he her son?’ it appeared she knew about the past indiscretion and had worked through it with their father, the first son couldn’t get the sick feeling out of the pit of his stomach. A betrayal of one’s trust was one of the worst kind of sin and now, their future and very livelihood was threatened by a child from the past indiscretion.

“Father, may I see the papers?” asked Jarrod quietly, watching his father’s down turned head for a minute before raising his voice a notch. “Father!”

Jolted from his silent examination of the white pieces of wood pulp, Tom’s head snapped up at the tone in the raised voice and met his oldest’s son’s eyes. The blue orbs almost seemed to be daring his father to challenge the tone of his voice as his son’s hand was held out, waiting for the information he was holding.

Standing, the older man placed the documents in the hand of his legally minded son and walked across the room to the fireplace, leaning with one hand on the mantle and gazing at the oil painting of his family on the wall above.

“They are certified copies of a birth certificate and a deed to the ranch.” exclaimed Jarrod, feeling the turbulence of acid in his gut increasing as his faculties whirled through his legal knowledge.

“Certifieds are almost as good as originals. Father, where’s the deed and title to the ranch you have? I’ll have to dig into this and see if someone sold him the land as part of a swindle or…”

“It’s in the safe, son.” answered Tom quietly, his eyes not leaving the portrait, trying to imagine how a third son would look in the picture of the family.

Nick shook his head as if clearing his mind of the fog of shock he’d been in since his father dropped the bombshell. Taking in the form of his pale mother sitting on the settee, hazel eyes sparked with anger at the man he revered all his life and his hands clenched into fists.

“Mother, are you…okay?” asked Nick moving to her side and placing a hand on her shoulder, hesitating over the word okay, knowing nothing seemed like it would ever be okay again.

Opening her eyes, Victoria let out a shaky breath and reached up to pat the strong hand of her son, his power was lessened in difference to her petite body and his hand gently rested on her shoulder.

“I’m…stunned.” admitted Victoria softly, turning her head to look at the back of her husband, his broad shoulders slumped with the load unexpectedly placed there.

“Tom, we owe our children an explanation of…what happened twenty three years ago….in Strawberry. Afterwards, we’ll need some legal advice Jarrod on what those papers signify as to the future of this ranch…“

There’s no way someone’s kicking us off our ranch!” declared Nick vehemently, smacking his hand against the wood piece running over the back of the settee. “This is our home, we worked ourselves ragged to build it up into one of the best ranches in California. I don’t care who that…boy is or whose son he’s trying to pass himself off as! It’s not gonna happen!”

“That boy may very well be your brother. No matter how much we may want to deny it, there could be a strong possibility of it. If it is confirmed he is my son and your brother, we’ll have to cross that bridge when we get to it.” stated Tom firmly, turning to look at both his sons who stood tall and returned his stare, the two different colored sets of eyes glowing with questions and upset. Shifting his eyes to gaze at his wife, the older man sighed and nodded slightly.

“Your mother is correct, we owe you an explanation of the past before we can go forward. It’s going to be hard enough to tell it once without having to repeat it. Nick, get your sister so we can start.”

Chapter 7

“No.” growled Nick with a firm shake of his head, causing the others in the room to stare in disbelief at the dark haired man.

“Nicholas.” warned Tom with eyes demanding to be obeyed. “It was not a request.”

Nick glared back at his father and held onto the back of the settee, his voice low and forceful, “Isn’t that putting the cart before the horse, Father?”

Stopped for a moment at the unexpected question, Tom frowned and met the flashing hazel eyes of his youngest boy, “Spit it out, son. What are you saying?”

“We don’t even know for sure he’s your…son.” hissed Nick, stumbling over the word, the idea sticking in his craw as much as the word stuck in his throat. “Why get Audra all upset when this may just be some conman’s idea of getting money outta you? We don’t even know if its true or not!”

Holding up the copy of the birth certificate, Jarrod responded, “Nick, this birth certificate is certified by a judge. It clearly lists Thomas Jonathan Barkley as the father and Leah Heather Thomson as the mother.”

Dismissing the information from across the room with a wave of his hand, Nick leaned over the settee, capturing his father’s brown eyes, “It wouldn’t be the first time a judge was in someone’s pocket, Father! I say let Jarrod prove that fortune you spent on his education ain’t going to waste. Let him dig around and find out if this boy’s claim is true, first…before we do anything else.”

Jarrod arched an eyebrow at the suggestion by his little brother, surprised and pleased at the workings of his brother’s mind. Gone was the child who would plunge headlong into any crazy scheme and consequences be damned. The years of growing and being responsible for the undertakings of the ranch had matured his brother when nothing else would.

For while his father still worked the ranch occasionally, it was Nick who shouldered the burdens of turning a profit, taking the initiative and drive to expand their operation into different areas. The youngest son took to ranch work like a duck to water, much as he took to the legal profession in a similar way.

Nodding, Jarrod smiled his support over to his brother before looking at his parents, “I think Nick has a valid point, Father. I can get the Pinkertons started on an investigation tomorrow. With a little extra incentive, we could have something back within the week. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can find out about the land grant the ranch was supposedly part of when you purchased it.”

Moving to sit on the table in front of his wife, Tom took her hand in his and asked, “What do you think, my dear?”

Tilting her head slightly, Victoria squeezed his hand and agreed, “I don’t want Audra upset needlessly either, Tom. Perhaps it would be best to see what we are dealing with first.”

Tom looked up at his sons, proud of the men they’d grown into, leaders in the community and respected for each of their talents. Meeting each of their eyes, he saw the disapproval lingering in their orbs and silently acknowledged he deserved every bit of recrimination they felt. He had let them down, shaken their worlds and their view of him when the sins of his past came to threaten their futures.

Tom took out his pocket watch, noting the time before putting it back in his vest pocket. Nodding to his sons as he helped his wife to her feet, the patriarch stated, “Alright, Nick, your suggestion is a good one. Jarrod can start tomorrow. In the meantime, we’d best get started to town for church. We can still make the late service if your beautiful sister is finally done trying on every one of her dresses.”

Nick and Jarrod chuckled softly, walking together out of the study to hurry their baby sister along, leaving their parents alone.

“Vic, I’m sorry for…”

Placing a finger on his lips, Victoria shook her head and sighed, “If Heath Thomson is truly your son, Tom, we’ll meet with him together. His arrival doesn’t change my love for you. We dealt with the anger and pain twenty three years ago, let’s not relive it today.”

Drawing her into his arms, Tom placed a lingering kiss on his wife’s lips, his amazement of this woman never ceased and his arms wrapped around her tiny body as he bent to whisper in her ear. “I love you, darling.”

Chapter 8

Sitting off the trail by a small creek, Heath let Gal drink after he walked the modoc around to cool her off from his rage filled desire to leave the mansion behind. Shaking his head, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d pushed his faithful companion to such a point.

Now taking a moment to allow the soothing sounds of the glen to calm him, he silently wondered if it was so much the denial which was waving a red flag in front of him or was it the opulence of the house his father lived in.

Even though from the information gathered he had a rough estimate of the financial wealth generated by the various Barkley holdings, he couldn’t get the foyer of the house out of his mind. The lavish furnishings spoke of riches, wealth and a status not held by many in the world. It made a statement without being flashy and gaudy.

His father had everything while his mother had nothing. She had a back breaking job, a pitiful wooden shack, a hungry child to feed and clothe, an existence which was her life.

Closing his eyes, the blond could hear her soft voice in his head, angry at her son for not seeing the good in what life offered. She never complained for herself, she never worried about her needs for she placed him above everything.

She wore her maternal role like a second skin. She was a woman who was destined to be a mother, to love and nurture was her personality, her whole being. It wasn’t learned for it came naturally, it was engrained deep within her very soul. Her eyes shone with love each time he saw them, the love of a mother for her only son.

Putting his head in his hands, the blond stared at the shoreline between his boots, his eyes not seeing the stones of the bank or the butterfly which lit down and then fluttered away.

He could see only her pale blue eyes filled with sadness and disappointment, mixed with a tinge of fear. Fear of the demon inside him, the short fused temper he’d carried since he left her womb. He could hear her telling him not to do anything rash, step back and take a breath.

‘Life is full of choices son. Whatever one you choose, make sure it’s one you can life with. For sometimes you cannot undo what you’ve chosen.’

Lifting his head when Gal nudged his shoulder, Heath stood and ran his hands over the smooth coat before he lead her away from the creek.

He still wasn’t sure what upset him more but he’d thrown the gauntlet down and now he’d have to wait to see if it’d be picked up. In that moment, he’d made a choice to go for the jugular of the man who denied his claim.

He mounted suddenly having a strong desire to be close to his mother and headed into town which lay only a mile further down the trail. The white church was on the edge of town and the tall steeple could be seen for miles away. He saw the yard was clear of buggies and wagons before moving closer and stopping at the rail.

Climbing the stairs, he took off his hat and entered, relieved no one was in the open area and made for a pew in the middle. Sitting down, he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the pew in front of him, his clasped hands held to his forehead, his mind leaving the town where he was.

Outwardly, no one noticed any difference in the prominent family as they arrived in Stockton to attend church service. It was a Sunday ritual they partook in each week, the faces of the family smiled and greeted their neighbors, friends and others in the community. Outwardly they maintained a front to cover the shocking start to the day, inwardly, four of the five found their thoughts wandering, their focus lacking inside the building of white.

The service ended and the family headed to the Cattlemans for lunch, another ritual which was a constant in their lives. A pattern of living engrained over the years and the familiarity felt comforting in a small way. During lunch, Audra had finally sensed a difference in her family but Victoria steered her daughter’s attention to the upcoming book gathering for the orphanage.

Excusing himself, Nick walked out onto the boardwalk impatient to be headed back to the ranch. His natural tendency to be moving, constantly flowing through life stilled at the sight of the man dismounting at the church. His feet were moving before his mind sent the signal to his body.

He was drawn to the building and the man who entered, unsure of why he was seeking him out when he’d told his father he thought waiting was the best option. He instinctively felt the tugging on his soul and he didn’t fight the unexpected diversion.

Entering the church, he stood at the back and let his eyes adjust to the dim light inside before moving closer. Kneeling on one knee in front of the altar was the man who’d turned them upside down today, his head bowed for several minutes, his hand wiped his face before he effortlessly stood and turned.

Chapter 9

The unexpected appearance of the dark haired son of his father shown in the eyes of Heath, the surprise was quickly replaced with a wariness before he gained control of himself. The blond could feel the confliction within the larger man, the hazel eyes hadn’t left his from the moment he’d turned from the altar.

“Mr. Barkley.” said Heath quietly, not breaking his eyes from the others.

Five feet away, Nick stood in the aisle catching the swiftly changing look in the blue eyes of the blond when he turned and was caught off guard by his presence. He’d come to the church on impulse, even he was unsure of what he wanted to do now. He was sure the other man could sense the hesitation and confusion within himself for the blond’s eyes narrowed slightly in puzzlement.

“Interesting.” replied Nick moving his right hand back to hook in his belt, stopping when the blue eyes changed to a darker color at the unconscious gesture towards the gun on his hip.

Realizing the movement could be taken as a sign of aggression, Nick brought his arms up and crossed them over his broad chest. It had only been a flicker of ice in the blue eyes which told the rancher, this man was prepared, possibly a bad man to tangle with and seemingly not a stranger to violence.

Heath fought the pounding of his heart in his chest, relieved when the other man in the aisle stopped his hand movement and entwined his arms across his chest. Violence was not foreign to him or to most people sharing the world as it currently was.

For in their times of existence, the world could be a wild, untamed and unchecked place. There were many who used violence to gain what they wanted. Violence begat violence and to the blond was a last resort.

He often envisioned a time in the future when men wouldn’t have to carry guns on their persons daily, where they could walk the streets without resorting to defending themselves with a hair trigger and a deadly aim.

“What’s interesting, Mr. Barkley?” questioned Heath, holding his hat in his hands and standing rigidly still.

“If you are my father’s son, why do you call me Mr. Barkley? Wouldn’t that make us…brothers?” asked Nick before answering his own question a few seconds later. “I know why! Cause you know your claim is not true and this is no more than a scam.”

Tilting his head slightly and spying the return of the clergyman behind the rancher, the corner of the blond’s lip twitched slightly before he responded in a low voice, “It is at home, not in public, one washes one’s dirty linen. Napoleon Bonaparte, Mr. Barkley.”

Scowling at the soft spoken words which barely reached his ears, Nick stiffened at the voice behind him and the man who passed by him.

“Good afternoon, Nick.” greeted Father Martin. “I wasn’t expecting you back here.”

Jumping in and taking control from the man who’d been thrown off by the arrival of the man in the cloth, Heath stepped closer and held out his hand, “Mr. Barkley was here to see me, Father…..”

“John Martin.” smiled the priest, taking the hand in his and puzzling at the tension filling the room. “And who are you, my son?”

Nick’s eyes flashed at the question and his mouth opened, only to have his words stopped by the blond’s answer, “Heath Thomson from Carson City. I hope you don’t mind my need to use the sanctity and serenity of his house.”

Smiling widely, the kindly priest sighed, “Yes, it does one’s soul a world of good, doesn’t it? Please stay as long as you need. Good day.”

Recovering from the moment, Nick stated his farewell to the priest, listening to the soft drawled voice of the blond add his own before he nodded and moved past him.

“That ranch is our home, the land is in our blood and if we have to shed blood to keep it, we will.” suggested Nick quietly, his words stopping the hand which was raising the tan hat.

Closing his eyes for a moment and fighting the anger which rose at the veiled threat, Heath took in a breath and slowly turned, his hand clenched onto the brim of the hat.

Stepping forward, he stared into the hazel eyes and hissed, “I’ve fought for the last twenty two years against prejudice and small minded people, treated lower than dirt cause I didn’t know my father. Fight we may but remember I have everything to gain and nothing to lose, Mr. Barkley.”

Chapter 10

The pain in the blue eyes was tinged with anger and Nick found himself rooted in place, unable to tear his gaze away, the palpitations of his heart suddenly increased in his chest. He felt it…the bond beckoning him to this stranger. The deep bond was a testament of the blood sacrament he shared with his oldest brother and now it appeared strong in the presence of this younger man.

The invisible magnetism of the younger man was mesmerizing and Nick realized the blond suddenly felt it for his eyes widened with surprise before he shivered slightly and took a step back. Scowling as he increased the gap of space between the dark haired man and himself, not understanding what had just occurred.

Turning on his heel, the blond’s broad back felt the hazel eyes on him until the close of the door cut the invisible threads and he shook his head before bounding down the stairs and jumping into the saddle. Heading down the street to the livery, the blond wasn’t aware of the brown eyes watching him from the boardwalk outside the restaurant, his mind was contemplating over the eerie event which took place in the church with his father’s youngest son.

Tom stood gazing at the blond riding from the churchyard and down the street, the profile of the young face increasing the beating of his heart and he turned slightly to keep the rider in view til he disappeared down a side street.

Jarrod studied his father as he stood rigidly on the walk, his eyes not leaving the young blond man riding down the street. Jarrod shifted his eyes to the rider and he suddenly knew he was looking at another brother, the unexpected strength of the feeling left him sucking in a quick breath of air.

The hissed intake of air beside him reached the patriarch and he turned back, his brown eyes answering the question lingering in his oldest son’s blue eyes. Nodding slightly, Tom started to move, stopping when he saw Nick slowly emerging from the church and he emitted a low growl of disapproval.

Jarrod followed his father as he made his way down the boardwalk, keeping in step with the leader of their family as he strode up to his son deep in thought.

“Nicholas, what were you doing at the church with him?” demanded Tom, keeping his voice low and for his sons’ ears only, mindful of their fellow citizens around them. “I thought it was your idea to have him investigated first before we had any more contact!”

Unruffled by the demanding voice of his father, Nick mused quietly, his hazel eyes full of thought, “In the words of Heath Thomson, Father…. It is at home, not in public, one washes one’s dirty linen. Napoleon Bonaparte or so he has informed me.”

Jarrod lowered his head to hide the smile at the stunned look on their father’s face as his son simply walked by him, continuing on until he reached the surrey, where he leaned against the black rig, twirling his hat in his hands.

Tom let the words wander through his mind before he ran a hand through his hair and a smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t know, Father.” admitted Jarrod before glancing back to the brown eyes outlined with wrinkles of time. “Mighty interesting though. It’s almost as if somehow Heath Thomson has taken the fire of resistance out of brother Nick.”

Snorting in disbelief, Tom shook his head and clapped his first born on the back, “That ranch is the blood in Nick’s veins and he’ll fight anyone who thinks they can weasel their way in. He’s just like me in that aspect, Jarrod. No one will take what is rightfully ours.”

Stopping, Jarrod arched an eyebrow at his father and questioned softly, “Would you fight your own son, Father? For if Heath Thomson is of your blood that is what will happen? Are you willing to take on that burden? Would you put land above your own child?”

Leaving his father standing alone on the boardwalk, Jarrod met his mother and sister exiting the restaurant. Nick stepped forward and helped his mother into the surrey while Jarrod assisted Audra. Victoria sensed a change in her rancher son and studied his eyes for a moment. Smiling slightly, Nick shook his head at her silent question before he placed a kiss on her hand and squeezed it. Putting on his hat he walked to Coco and untied the reins, pulling himself into the saddle and watching his father as he climbed into the surrey.

Snapping the reins, Tom smiled slightly at Victoria before turning his attention to the drive home, the questions asked by his first born shaking him to his very core. Glancing around at her sons riding beside the surrey, Victoria wondered what had taken place while she and Audra were speaking with their old family friend, Howard Merar in the restaurant.

Sighing to herself, the Barkley matriarch settled back in the seat and let her mind wander, her hand finding its way into the crook of her husband’s arm. Smiling at his wife, Tom squeezed the small hand on his arm, somehow knowing he would be thankful for this woman who stood by his side before Heath Thomson’s claim for retribution was over.

Chapter 11

Arriving home to the mansion he’d built for his family, Tom helped his wife and daughter down before walking with the women into their home. Placing a kiss on his wife’s cheek, he entered the study and closed the door. Victoria stared at the closed door for several minutes before climbing the stairs to change her outfit.

The ride home from town had found all three Barkley men quiet and contemplative, their thoughts kept within the confines of their craniums. The thought provoking questions asked by his first born son left the patriarch shaking his head at himself, not liking what his legal minded son’s questions caused him to ask of himself.

Jarrod and Nick led the horses to the barn, neither speaking as they curried the large animals. Jarrod finished and stood outside the stall where Nick worked, leaning on the gate and studying his little brother.

“So, what happened?” asked Jarrod quietly. “Neither of you were bruised, so I gather no fists were thrown.”

Nick scoffed, “Pete’s sake Jarrod, we were in the church!”

“Never stopped you before, Nick.” replied Jarrod with a smile and blue eyes twinkling.

Stopping and looking at his brother, Nick growled, “I was seven when that happened. I swear in this family you can’t live anything down!”

Holding up his hand, Jarrod offered, “Alright, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I didn’t realize you were so touchy about it. Gees.”

“Well, I’m not the only boy who ever raised a ruckus from time to time.” snapped Nick, scowling and unsure of why he was getting angry over the childhood memory of a scuffle with Vince Craddock. Patting the mare on the back, he opened the stall and shook his head. “He called me, Mr. Barkley.”

Tilting his head, Jarrod asked hesitantly, “And did that bother you?”

“Yes….no.” said Nick banging a hand on the wood post next to him. “Hell, I don’t know.”

The confusion and uncertainty over the encounter flashed in the hazel eyes and Jarrod replied, “Well, Nick, he doesn’t know us. Why would he call us by our given names?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” agreed Nick.

“You sure don’t sound convinced.” said Jarrod. “Why not?”

Thinking for several minutes, the tanned face frowned and hazel eyes narrowed as he tried to capture his elusive thoughts. “It’s almost as if he knows our father’s his father but he hasn’t figured out or….I don’t know! It’s there I just can’t get it out!”

“Are you thinking he’s so focused on Father that he hasn’t fully realized he has a sister and two brothers?” suggested Jarrod. “That we’re part of his family and bound by blood?”

Slapping the post, Nick nodded in agreement, “That’s it! I think he’s thought only about Father and not what his…war with him will do to the rest of us or maybe he has and he doesn’t give a rat’s ass.”

Resting an arm over the broad shoulders and steering the younger man out of the barn, Jarrod pointed out, “Nick you’re doing an awful lot of thinking and worrying about what this Heath Thomson calls you. He may not even be our brother.”

“Don’t give me that crap, Jarrod.” snorted Nick, stopping to glare into his big brother’s eyes. “You felt it too, didn’t you?”

“I felt something, Nick.” admitted Jarrod, wondering himself if their half-brother was seeking only retribution or something greater. “However as your attorney, I would advise we wait for tangible proof.”

Poking the older man in the chest above his heart, Nick said sincerely, “What’s in there is the only proof you need, Jarrod. Just like I feel your soul, I felt his today. It’s the soul of a brother.”

Nodding to the older man who worked at the livery, the young blond walked to his hotel with saddlebags and rifle in hand. He’d spent the last twenty minutes grooming his modoc, letting his hands skillfully move the curry comb while his mind moved his thoughts in his head.

Heading through the lobby, he stopped and picked up the telegram left for him, thanking the bad mannered clerk before climbing the stairs and entering his room. Tossing his hat on the dresser and setting his gear on the bed, he sat in a chair and opened the wire, his eyes scanning its contents.

Placing the paper on the table, he sat back with legs stretched out in front of him and ran his hands through his hair. Tilting his head back, blue eyes studied the ceiling for several minutes with his fingers locked behind his head.

Pursing his lips, he let out a deep sigh and untwined his fingers, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his fingertips tapping together. Staring at the leather bags stamped with HT, he frowned and rose to his feet, walking to the bed and slowly unlatching the buckle.

Taking out the package wrapped in an oilskin, he brought it over to the table, setting it down while he opened the ink bottle and sat pen poised over paper, his eyes staring to the world outside his hotel window. Deciding what he wanted to relay, the blond wrote, folded the paper and addressed an envelope. Putting the note in the envelope, he slid it under the ties holding the package together.

Unrolling his bedroll, he quickly wrapped it back up after putting two pairs of clothes in. Grabbing the picture of his wife from the bedside table, he slid it into the saddlebag. Taking a quick look around the room, he left and locked the door, making his way to the lobby.

Stopping at the desk, the blond waited until the clerk was free. Setting the tied package on the counter, he pulled out two bills and placed them on top.

“I have to leave town for a few days but I’ll be back in about a week or so. Hold my room and don’t rent it out.”

“Alright.” replied the desk clerk, his eyes not leaving the two bills.

“These are yours if you’ll deliver this to the lawyer, Jarrod Barkley, first thing in the morning.” said Heath firmly.

“Sure, not a problem.” smiled the desk clerk, snatching up the bills. “His office is only two doors down.”

Nodding, Heath picked up his rifle and caught the man’s gaze, suggesting in a cool voice, “Unopened.”

Staring into the cool blue eyes which matched the guest’s voice, the clerk swallowed and nodded several times, squeaking out. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter 12

Jarrod watched Nick head up the staircase, his footsteps heavy, mirroring the weight of his brother’s thoughts. Letting out a sigh, the eldest son paused for a moment before heading to the closed door of the study. Resting his hand on the knob, he didn’t turn it when the sound of his mother’s voice quietly spoke.

“Jarrod, what happened today?” asked Victoria appearing behind her first child who was ready to enter the room where her husband had sequestered himself since their return from town.

Removing his hand from the round object, Jarrod turned and smiled, placing a kiss on his mother’s cheek before leading her from the door into the parlor. “Mother, what makes you think something happened today?”

Looking up at her son’s question with an arched eyebrow, she watched a blush spread over his cheeks before she took a seat on the chair, her hands straightening out the skirt of her dress.

“I’d prefer not to bother your father right now, Jarrod, which is why I’m asking you.” stated Victoria directing he take a seat on the table in front of her. “Of course, you can try to deny something happened.”

Sitting on the marble topped table, Jarrod suggested, “I could...”

“But you won’t.” interjected his mother firmly, her gray eyes keeping locked onto his. “So, what has your brother in such a deep concentration? While your brother and father have locked horns in the past, I don’t think that’s the reason.”

“Really?” queried Jarrod leaning his elbows on his knees, encouraging his keen minded mother to continue. “Why do you think it wasn’t something between Nick and Father?”

The anticipation in the sparkling blue eyes of her son as he waited and his slight shifting when she purposely stretched out the length before she answered left her smiling inside. Her first born had been blessed with his father’s strength, his tenacity and a strong will. From her, he received a meticulous attention to detail mixed with an insatiable need for knowledge and a desire for justice.

Smiling, Victoria replied, “Because I know the men in my family and your brother went to his room instead of riding.”

“Very good, Mother.” acknowledged Jarrod.

“Did Nick meet up with Heath Thomson when he was outside waiting?”

Nodding, Jarrod sighed, “He met him at the church.”

“And?” prodded Victoria. “What else?”

“I’m not privy to all the details, Mother. Little brother is tightlipped about most of it.” admitted Jarrod with a frown. “Heath Thomson left quite an impression on him it seems.”

“And yourself?” questioned Victoria. “What of you, Jarrod? Did you met him?”

“I only saw him ride by for a brief moment on the street, Mother.” explained Jarrod. “I didn’t meet him personally, no.”

Standing, Victoria bent and kissed her son’s forehead, “Thank you, Jarrod. Why don’t you change before talking to your father about the deed.”

Jarrod couldn’t keep the surprise off his face and he smirked, “Now, how my dear Mother did you know I was going to do that very thing?”

Tilting her head, Victoria smiled, “Because my son, you and I think alike in many ways. It appears Heath Thomson has left an impression on you also.”

“Perhaps he has, Mother.” agreed Jarrod quietly, afraid her gray eyes would fill with pain but he only saw understanding in their depths. “What of you, Mother?”

Placing a hand on his cheek, Victoria sighed, “I want it verified without a doubt. Like you, Jarrod, I’d want tangible proof before we move forward. Tangible proof of his birthright, his claims of his mother and….your father. If it’s true then not one mistake was made all those years ago but two.”

“Two?” repeated Jarrod puzzled.

“Yes, one by your father which we have already worked through.” explained Victoria. “The second by both your father and me.”

”Mother, I don’t understand.”

“We should have gone back to find out if she was with child. We didn’t and if he is a child out of that liaison, then God help us. For Heath Thomson’s life must have been a living hell and I can’t imagine him willingly backing down. To live labeled from his birth out of wedlock, he must be strong willed and a survivor.”

Closing her eyes and shaking her head, Victoria turned to leave her first born, then stopped and looked into his thoughtful eyes.

“If Heath Thomson is your brother, I don’t believe money or land would ever be enough retribution for what we unknowingly forced an innocent child to deal with all this time.”

Chapter 13

Standing for a few minutes after his mother glided out of the parlor, Jarrod sighed loudly before heading up the stairs to his room, changing out of his suit into comfortable clothes. Hanging up his jacket, he closed the closet door and stopped by the bedside table picking up the family photograph.

Running his eyes over the smiling faces of those he loved, he was surprised at how easily he could envision another face in the group. A blond haired son standing in the back row beside his dark haired brothers. It seemed so natural, so right. Turning his head at the knock on the door, Jarrod replaced the picture and called for the visitor to enter.

Opening the door, Tom stood in the doorway for a moment before entering.

“Father, I was just coming down to see you.” said Jarrod.

Closing the door quietly, Tom crossed to the chair and sat down, handing the file he’d taken from the safe to his first born. Jarrod took the papers and sat on the bed, perusing the paperwork quickly with his trained eye before meeting his father’s eyes.

“Father which do you want me to investigate first?” questioned Jarrod closing the file and holding onto it, scrutinizing his father intently.

“His claim to the ranch comes first.” replied Tom quietly, catching the twitching of the muscle in his son’s face, a sign matching the flash of anger in the blue eyes.

“I see.” stated Jarrod standing and crossing the room to shove the file into his leather case.

“No, I don’t think you do, son.” sighed Tom heavily, trying to find the words to explain his reasons, wishing he’d had the silver tongued gift with words like his first born and his wife.

Turning slowly, Jarrod leaned against the post of his bed and crossed his arms, suggesting, “Why don’t you explain it to me then, Father. Explain why you want me to seek out the reason Heath Thomson has a claim to the ranch before his claim as your son.”

Sitting back in the chair, Tom stared into his son’s eyes and waited for the calm to return in the blue orbs before proceeding. He and Victoria raised their children to be independent and fair minded but also respectful. It was several long minutes before the lawyer in his son came to the forefront and pushed down the anger from his emotions.

Letting out a breath, Jarrod sat on the bed across from his father and nodded, “Alright, I’m listening, Father.”

“Think of all the people we, the Barkley family, employ Jarrod. All the families who depend on the money from their jobs on our ranch, plus all the other businesses in the Barkley Holdings to feed and clothe their families.” explained Tom firmly.

“Father…”

“Wait a minute, boy.” growled Tom holding up a hand and stopping any protests. “When your mother and I settled here it was only through blood, sweat and tears our dreams came true. While we built our dreams and employed others, some of their dreams came true too. They are loyal employees to our family and not to be left unconsidered. With the money from the work they do for us, they’ve sent children onto college, bought their own homesteads and been given a chance to realize their dreams.”

“I, we, have a responsibility to those people as much as we do anyone. Some of the blood spilled building up our empire was their own family members and in a way, our family. Those who work for us are part of the Barkley family, too. Heath Thomson could possibly be your brother and yes, in a way, I am putting land over a son but I have to. It is with me he has a bone to pick not with those who we employ and this is the reason I want the ranch secured first. I don’t want his anger towards me to hurt so many others.”

Digesting the reasons for a moment, Jarrod walked over to his window and stared out across the landscape, his shoulder leaning against the frame.

Turning, the oldest son pursed his lips before responding, “If his claim to the land is valid, we could have this ranch taken out from under our feet, Father but it will not interfere with the other businesses in the Barkley Holdings. I can understand your concerns for our employees but as you know, businesses fail everyday in this world and it is not uncommon.”

“Yes, they do.” agreed Tom with a quick nod. “But?”

“When he came to the house and made his claim, what did you say?” asked Jarrod quietly.

Tom looked down and tousled his peppered hair with a large hand, “He told me his mother’s name and I saw her resemblance in him. Then he made his claim but I denied it. I told him when I met Leah Thomson she said she was barren and unable to have children. So he couldn’t be my son and I told him I didn’t know what he was after but whatever it was, he could forget it. Why would she say she was if she wasn’t?”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jarrod fought to control his fury over his father’s disregard for his mother when he lain with Leah Thomson. After several shaky breaths, he wiped a hand over his face and hissed sarcastically, “I don’t know Father, obviously, I didn’t know her like you did.”

“Careful, son, I am still your father.” warned Tom through clenched teeth.

Turning to the window again, Jarrod rubbed the back of his neck before asking, “What happened then?”

“He was furious and said he hated me all his life because of what his mama went through. He said what he wanted could have been simply the chance to know me, see me and talk to me. Then he pushed the papers at me saying now he wanted it all and he’d have it too.” sighed Tom, replaying the scene in his head as the fiery blue eyes burned into his before the blond’s departing words.

“He said ‘read this and sleep well, Father.’ Then he left shaking the house when he slammed the door. I read the papers and damn near had a heart attack!”

Shaking his head, Jarrod slapped his hand against the window frame before turning and said, “I don’t think he came here hoping to give you a heart attack. I think he came to meet his father, the man who wasn’t around when he was growing up.”

“Oh com’n Jarrod.” scoffed Tom standing on his feet. “If that was the case why’d he go through the trouble to buy the land to our home and give me a copy of it.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jarrod smirked, “Because Father, it appears this man may have inherited the infamous Barkley temper and you sure stoked the fire to it when you denied his claim.”

Chapter 14

Leaning against the french doors, Tom watched his wife spend time in her rose garden. The sun glistened off her hair highlighting the silver strands and bathing her profile in its warmth. She was as beautiful as the day they wed, perhaps even more so as with age and years of living came a quiet confidence in her role as mother and wife. His Victoria excelled in both roles with her steadfast thinking and her giving nature.

Lifting one of the arms crossed over his chest, the founder of the Barkley empire swiped a hand down his face to stop the threatening emotions from boiling over. How could he have wronged her so long ago? How could he have been so lucky to have her stay by his side and work through their marital strives to find trust again?

It was a time of profound grief and overwhelming pain for both of them, however, she stayed true and he hadn’t. He’d been the weakest for he hadn’t imagined he’d ever find a light at the end of the pitch black tunnel they found themselves in after the deaths of two small babies born too early.

Twin blonds who only graced their world for two weeks. It was only fourteen days, yet it was long enough for their attachment to the children to be strong as steel. Their attachment to Mary and Mark was unbending and unyielding, even though they somehow knew God would be taking home the gifts he gave them within a short period of time.

He let the twins stay long enough for their deaths to rip their parents’ hearts out, twisting and twisting until they’d turned and lashed out at each other. Neither able to comfort the other for the words weren’t there, the words wouldn’t find their way out. It was easier to be angry, bitter and cast blame than to try to pick themselves up to move on.

They should have sought out each other for support and comfort in those dark times but instead after two months when the oppressive environment threatened to extinguish the very flame in his soul, he left for Strawberry. The trip was needed but he could have left it to one of his partners, instead he used the excuse given and escaped.

He made the conscious choice to leave behind his wife and two small boys rationalizing he needed to purge himself of the guilt from the twins’ deaths and the loss in his wife’s gray eyes. He rationalized until he was whole himself, he couldn’t help his wife find her way back. He rationalized his cowardly flight all the way to the mining town.

Arriving in the town just springing to life from the opening of the mine, he’d thrown himself into his work, inspecting the work of the miners, making changes and plans for their newest venture. Slowly he worked and successfully implemented the revisions to increase the ore output while ensuring the safety of the men who were digging like gophers in the wet dank hole.

He hadn’t met her until the third month he was there in the town. He had bumped into her when he was leaving the hotel and reading a two week old newspaper left on the counter. When he grabbed onto her arms to steady the small young woman, the instant their eyes met the world around them faded away.

Leah Heather Thomson’s eyes beguiled him from that moment, twin sapphires sparkling in her small perfectly framed face. It was a first meeting which turned into a friendship between a man and a woman. An innocent friendship of two adults who needed a shoulder and an ear in a town where not many were found. Both somehow needed the strength of the other to purge the unhappiness and despair within themselves.

She’d lost her husband who in reality had given her nothing but a wish to be free, yet, her guilt over the lack of sadness of his death stole into her dreams every night, torturing her with her inability to bear his children and his accusations of her being only half a woman.

He needed her laughter and friendship to chip away at the wall erected around his soul and heart over his inability to cope with the death of his twin children and his own failings as a husband.

One night after dinner in her home, he was teaching her to play poker while they shared a bottle of wine. Her contagious laughter rang through the parlor and her blue eyes twinkled with amusement. Beginner’s luck found her winning all his matchsticks and he found his hand drawn to her face, his thumb outlining the red lips in an intimate gesture never shared before between them. Two lonely people came together, unable to stop the effects of the single touch which replaced friendship with intimacy.

He could’ve blamed that night on the effects of the wine but in the morning when the light of the day was just peeking over the horizon and their eyes met the guilt flowing from him was stifling. He had given into a forbidden love and broken a trust given to him by the woman he married years before.

Even as he could see in her eyes the breaking of her own heart, Leah Thomson reached up and dried the tears on his cheeks, placed a kiss on his forehead and told him to go home to his family. He left that day and never returned.

Victoria knelt amongst her roses, the far away look in her life partner’s eyes and the guilt across his face tore at her heart. He’d made a mistake, they’d both made mistakes after the death of the twins, mistakes which drove a deep wedge between them.

It had taken time, lots of time to rebuild back up what they had before but together they had done it, succeeded where most couples would have not. What they almost lost so long ago had been put away and they moved forward as a couple, holding hands and meeting the future together. They’d flourished in their lives and been rewarded with their only daughter.

The arrival of Heath Thomson into their lives was raking open the raw feelings of the past, forcing them again to relive the pain, however, this time they’d stand together and wouldn’t run from it. If this young man was born out of that time, he was not to be blamed for he was innocent. No one could control the family, the time, the place they were born into.

Standing and catching her husband’s eye, Victoria held out her hand. Unsteadily Tom made his way to the side of his beckoning wife, taking hold of her hand and allowing her to lead him from the garden, walking away from the mansion into the surrounding acres.

Unspeaking their arms found their way around each other’s waist and together they strolled, certain of the support each would receive in the upcoming days.

Chapter 15

Arriving into town earlier than usual, Jarrod dismounted and tied Jingo to the hitching rail in front of his office before unlocking and entering. Taking off his hat, he opened his case and brought out the file his father had given him the day before, putting it on the desk before crossing to the small pot bellied stove at the edge of the room. Starting a fire, Jarrod took the time to make coffee and pour a cup before sitting in his black leather chair, scanning the mail left for him by his secretary.

Placing the letters to the side, he sipped his coffee and opened the file, going over the notes he had made the night before. Lifting his eyes to the portrait of his family, he sighed and let his mind wander to the night before.

His parents, their mood quiet and reflective excused themselves early, holding hands as they headed upstairs. Audra beat her unattentive brother Nick in two games of checkers before excusing herself and heading up to her bedroom. The blond girl was confused and concerned at her family members’ deep thoughts during this day and she was growing frustrated at their lack of sharing with her.

All the way into town he internally warred with himself fighting the desire to search out where Heath Thomson was staying in Stockton and speak to the young man himself. It had taken a great effort on his part to keep his curiosity at bay and rein in at his office.

Jarrod shook his head and picked up a pencil, returning to his notes and the papers before him. He meticulously scanned the thirty year old documents, each word read and dwelled upon, his fingers tapping the pencil on the desk in the unconscious rhythm of a melody. His mind worked over the words seeking any kind of leg for his family to stand on against one who threatened to pull the rug out from under their boots.

“Mr. Barkley?”

Startled, Jarrod looked up into the face of the desk clerk who was standing in his doorway. Putting down the pencil, he smiled and walked around the desk. “Morning, Mr. Jenkins. What can I do for you?”

Holding out the package, the desk clerk thrust it towards the suave attorney from the prominent family. “One of our guests asked I bring this to you. Paid extra to make sure you got it first thing. I would’ve delivered it earlier but I didn’t see you ride in.”

Jarrod took the oilskin package wrapped in string and glanced at the writing on the note before replying. “Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. Oh, who…”

The man was out the outer door and gone before Jarrod could ask who gave him the package. Closing the inner door to his office, he moved his papers and carefully untied the string before opening the note addressed to Jarrod T Barkley, his mouth drying when he read the signature first.

Lifting his eyes to the top of the paper, he let out a shaky breath and started reading.

Mr. J. T. Barkley,

As mentioned in the meeting of this morning with your father, Thomas Jonathan Barkley, the proof of my claim is contained in this package. These items were found in my mother’s home after her death. I was unaware of their existence until that time.

I shall entrust them to your care as your reputation for honesty and integrity is well known and unquestioned. I have left Stockton to oversee some matters of business, however, I will return in due course.

Upon my return, I will expect the documents to be returned intact, however, the jewelry items may be returned to your father to whom they rightfully belong.

Heath Thomson

Shaky hands laid the letter down and wiped the sweat gathering on his forehead. Rubbing the wet palms on his pants leg, Jarrod picked up the letter and reread the words again.

Pulling the oilskin wrapping open long fingers picked up the cufflink, the gold initials TJ were outlined in the black onyx. Closing his eyes, Jarrod could see it’s missing twin in the box on the dresser in their father’s room when he borrowed a tie pin at one time for he had been taken with the simplistic beauty of the cufflink and sorrowed there were not two.

Letting out a hissing breath and trying to still the thundering in his chest, he picked up the pocket watch and stared at it. Opening the tarnished lid, he ran his fingers over the scripted name before seeing the faded date inside, then snapped it shut.

Dropping the watch onto the desk, he held his head in his hands and let his body tremble uncontrollably. The watch had been given to his father by his grandfather when he married their mother. The date inside was the date of their wedding anniversary. He could remember as a small boy sitting on this father’s lap and being allowed to play with the present passed from father to son.

Jarrod took the time he needed to gain a small amount of control. The attorney found himself torn between despair and anger. His anger was towards his father and his straying from the sacred vows of matrimony. His despair for what Heath Thomson must have felt when he found the items after a lifetime of no doubt searching for answers.

Entwining his hands together, he rested them against his forehead and stared at the folded papers lying on the opened oilskin between the opening in his arms. Raising his head, he picked up his cup and walked to the stove refreshing it before retaking his seat at the desk.

Picking up the papers, he opened them and saw the original birth certificate, a match to the certified copied in the file on his desk. Studying it carefully, he was confident of its originality and authenticity. Setting it to the side, he stared at the two envelopes he held in either hand.

One addressed to Miss Leah Thomson with a Stockton postmark. The other to his father with L H Thomson in the left hand corner and without a postmark. She had written to his father but appeared to have never posted it. Both were opened and he carefully pulled out the contents of his father’s letter, wetting his arid lips before he read.

Dear Leah,

There are no words to express my profound sadness over the pain I have caused you. I believe our meeting was destined to help us both overcome the difficulties in our lives with a mutual offering of hands extended in friendship. I allowed my loneliness to make our friendship into something which should never have been. I was weak and could only hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me.

You are a special person who will make the right man happy one day. I am not that man for I have always been and will always be in love with only one woman, my wife Victoria. When you find the man of your dreams I hope you marry and have many wonderful years together.

I will eternally cherish the light you helped me refind within myself and hope at some time in the years ahead, you will be able to look back on our time with a sense of friendship and without pain.

Sincerely,

Thomas

Sliding open his drawer, Jarrod took out a small flask and hesitated a moment before pouring a good amount of brandy into the black contents of the mug. Taking a drink, he let the liquid courage warm him and still his tremors before opening the second envelope.

Dear Thomas,

It is two months since I received your letter. I have read it so many times since I’m afraid I’ll wear the paper out from handling it. I also believed we were destined to meet, however, for reasons different from yours.

I welcomed your friendship during those difficult times and admire the love you have for your wife. I know your family means everything in the world to you and this is why I find it difficult to tell you my news.

The month after you left I discovered I was with child, your child is growing inside me. My happiness is overshadowed with worry for I am unwed, however, you are not. Your position in the community and the small family you have already are the reasons I worry. This unborn child is yours but not your wife’s and the scandal it would create fills me with shudders.

I will cherish this child, a gift from our one night. A blessing given to us even though it would have seemed impossible. As you can see, I am deeply torn and unsure of how to proceed but feel you deserve the right to know. I am filled with regret at the thought of what this will do to you and your family when they learn of this baby.

Sincerely,

Leah

Leaving the rest of his coffee untouched, Jarrod rewrapped the bundle and grabbed his hat, quickly scrawling a note to his secretary before locking the office and climbing on Jingo after securing the evidence in his saddlebag.

Chapter 16

The town was prospering and growing with the increase of production in the mines. Silver and gold mines in the Comstock Lode provided jobs for the ones who followed the path of a miner. The money from the workers was spent in the saloons, restaurants and other business in Carson City.

The capital of the state was bursting with activity and prosperity, hustle and bustle, growth and industry. It was near busting at the seams with people some days, mostly paydays and other times it was quiet like an early Sunday morning.

The town was not quite a city and though everyone knew that would change over time, most were content with how it was at this moment. It was big but not so large you didn’t know your neighbor.

The town was over looked by mountains, the grandeur giants dwarfed the buildings on the ground. The eastern scarp of the Sierra Nevada was rugged and near impassable in sections. In places were it was impossible for horses and wagons, the timber companies built great flumes to bring the bountiful enormous trees from Spooner Summit on the eastern slope of the Sierras down to Carson City.

The logs stripped bare of branches would rush down, riding a stream of water and if you were close enough, sometimes you could see the smoke from the burning of the friction when the log met the side of the flume on its journey.

To the west between the town and the Pine Nut Mountains was the Great Basin desert.

The sun beating down on those who dare cross her without the knowledge of waterholes to survive was unfeeling and uncaring. If you knew the offerings of the vast desert, she would only singe your hide some as you passed through. If you turned up your nose and scorned her, she leave your dried carcass stretched across your bones.

Skirting the basin desert was a lone rider leading a string of horses, enjoying the smell of sage from the vegetation as he rode through the grasslands and away from the dry desert. His clothes were dusty and his face had several days of growth on his cheeks.

He turned to the south and crossed a small stream, his string of horses following as if they were already trained. The face honed by the wind and sun looked upon the small glen and he smiled in anticipation.

Topping a small hill, he stopped and let his eyes fall on the small ranch below as he rested his forearm on the saddle horn and leaned forward, pushing his hat higher on his forehead and sighing.

He could remember the first time he’d seen the ranch from this view, the buildings looked like miniatures compared to the Pine Nut Mountains which towered in the background and it was as beautiful as the first time he’d seen it when he was first invited.

Pushing his hat back down, he nudged the weary modoc whose pace quickened in anticipation of the stall and the fine tasting oats waiting beside the trough filled with sweet mountain water.

Weaving his way down the hill, he reached bottom and cantered to the nearest corral, leading the horses through the gate held open and turning them out before leaving back through the opening with Gal.

Slowly dismounting, Heath grinned at the taller man and gestured to the horses, “Well, what do ya’ think Charlie?”

With his face turning to look at the equines nervously gathered at one end of the corral, the black eyes twinkled with amusement before he shrugged and turned around, seemingly unimpressed, “They look ready for the glue factory.”

“GLUE FACTORY!” repeated Heath, his voice loud and carrying throughout the quiet air before flashing a grin. “I swear Charlie sometimes I don’t know how you come by the name of Whitehorse.”

“PAPA” called the small boy coming out of the barn.

Spinning around, Heath chuckled at the small boy whose excitement could be felt before he rushed into his kneeling father’s arms. Crushing the boy to his chest, the blond suddenly stood and flung him in the air, the giggles making both men laugh. Holding him in his arms, Heath batted the end of his son’s nose and grinned at the hiccups shaking the small frame.

“I missed ya’ Evan!” smiled Heath planting a kiss on his son’s face. “How’s my boy?”

“No…hic…pa… hic…pa.” protested the miniature blond trying to move his face out of the path of his father’s whiskers. “hic…yas… hic…scratchy… hic”

Glancing over to Charlie who was leaning on Gal and watching the identical pair, Heath frowned, “Charlie, am I scratchy?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever called you scratchy before. Lots of other things but never that.” smirked the tall slim framed mixed blood Cherokee with a wink while untying the reins. “I’ll settle Gal in for ya’.”

“I can do it, Charlie.” said Heath with a negative shake of his head.

“Nah, I’ll see you later at supper.” stated Charlie, handing the blond the saddlebags before leading the tired horse into the barn. “Thad’s over to town for a board meeting at the bank. Missus was making apple pie today.”

“Oh, my favorite.” whispered Heath tickling his son’s ear and sending him into another laughter fit.

“’m too… hic… hic…pa… hic…pa.” offered Evan trying to hold his breath to stop the interfering sounds.

“Did you help like a big boy while I was away working?” asked Heath seriously watching the almost four year old nod just as somber.

“Sure… hic…did.” announced Evan proudly.

“What’d ya’ do?”

Putting the bags over his shoulder, Heath smiled into the sapphire eyes sparkling with excitement as he tried to talk between his hiccups. Setting Evan down on the porch, Heath took off his hat and swiped at his clothes, the dust flying up all around.

“Heath, did you have to bring half the dust from Nevada with you?” purred the female voice, a mixture of teasing and happiness.

Looking up, Heath held out his hand and smiled sheepishly into the azure colored eyes. Evangeline smiled widely and ignored the hand, throwing herself into his chest and wrapping her arms around his muscular neck.

Wrapping his strong arms around his wife’s body, Heath met her lips with his then whispered. “I missed you Ange.”

“I missed you too.” smiled the brown haired woman, holding onto his waist as they climbed the steps and entered the house.

“Papa!” screamed the blonde haired girl from the floor dropping her doll, jumping up and running over, stopping suddenly and stomping her foot. “Yas all dirty, papa! We just cleant up for the tea party!”

Chapter 17

Kneeling down on one knee, Heath held out his arms, asking sadly, “Doesn’t papa get a welcome home hug, Matilda?”

“Papa, I’m not Matilda!” stated the petite child while her twin smiled and laughed, hunching down beside his father and copying every movement. Evangeline shook her head and sighed as she watched the father of her children, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“You’re not!” exclaimed the blond haired man in surprise. “Esmeralda then?”

Giggling, the curly blonde head shook negatively and the sapphire eyes sparkled. “Papa, that’s not me!”

“Hmm…” said Heath raising his hand to his chin and rubbing it in great thought, “I know….you must be Georgette.”

“Nope!” stated the girl, giggling behind the small hands held over her mouth.

“Myrtle?”

“Nope!”

“Hmmm…Florence?”

“Papa, you know my name!” stated the small voice firmly.

Looking down at his son, Heath questioned, “Boy howdy, squirt do you know the name of this fine little lady having a tea party?”

Evan suggested, “Princess Peanut?”

“EVAN!” stomped the small foot angrily, her hands flying to her hips and glaring at her look alike.

Shaking his head, Heath sighed, “Too bad, I was hoping to see my bestest girl and get a hug but I reckon she just ain’t home.”

“Reckon not papa.” agreed Evan sadly with a nod. “Too bad.”

Letting out a loud sigh of frustration, the blonde head shook and she pouted, her bottom lip protruding. “I’m your bestest girl, papa.”

“If you are, then you must be Heather.” winked Heath holding out his arms.

“That’s me!” screamed the small girl forgetting about her upset over the state of his clothes and ran into his arms.

Holding his daughter with one arm, Heath fell onto his side pulling his small son with him, tickling the sides of the twins, sending them into fits of laughter. Evan squirmed away from his father’s hold and pounced on his stomach, small hands trying to return the friendly torture.

The twins collapsed into the side of their father, laughing uncontrollably and hiccupping while he held them close, placing another kiss on their blond locks. Looking across the room, Heath smiled at the sight of his wife who had turned her back to cover the bread dough placed out to rise.

“I’m gonna get mama.” whispered Heath, his children nodding and giggling as they watched him sneak across the room.

Wiping her hands on a towel, Evangeline turned and dodged her husband right before he was able to grab her, putting the table between them. His eyes sparkling when she tried to keep the furniture between them.

“HEATH MORGAN!” stated the brown haired woman trying to sound stern but unable to from the laughter in her voice. “Don’t you dare.”

“Get mama, papa!” shouted the small voices in unison, laughing at their parents, clapping and calling.

Heath laughed at the encouragement and rounded the corner of the square table, “I’m trying kids, but your mama’s awful skittish. Just like the new modoc I brought back!”

“Like a horse!” repeated Evangeline stopping and recognizing her mistake when he suddenly lunged and caught her around the waist, pulling her to his chest and smiling into the sky blue eyes.

“You got her papa!” exclaimed the twins jumping up and down. “You got mama!”

“I sure did!” said Heath with a grin when she tried to push away with both hands on his chest.

“Heath, I have to get supper started.” protested Ange. “Let me go.”

Raising an eyebrow, the handsome blond smirked, “Is that the reason or is it because we know who gave the kids their tickle spots?”

“Heath!” giggled Evangeline when his finger found her side. “Stop it. You need to clean up. Father’s bringing home Mr. Tucker for supper.”

Heath looked over at the angelic faces and sighed, “Sorry kids, grandpa’s bringin’ company for dinner. You better go see if Charlie needs any help.”

“Okay, papa!” stated the twins running to the door and heading outside.

Placing a lingering kiss on his wife’s lips, Heath smiled and rested his forehead on hers, his finger moving slowly up her side causing her to squirm and giggle.

“You’re terrible! Stop that!” protested Evangeline weakly, her legs feeling rubbery from his touch.

“Hmmm…” murmured Heath, placing a kiss on her cheek before nuzzling her ear.

“How was Stockton?” asked Evangeline as he tugged on her earlobe, feeling his back stiffen suddenly at the question. Pulling back, she stared into the sapphire eyes and frowned at the storminess she saw in their depths. “Not good?”

“I’d best go get cleaned up.” sighed Heath caressing her cheek with his thumb before taking two steps away, stopping at her hand which held onto his.

“Heath, what’s wrong?”

Turning to face his partner in life, Heath squeezed the small hand and shook his head. “I’m so angry, Ange and I haven’t felt like this in a long time. I don’t know what I was trying to prove by going there. I know what I did and I still can’t believe I did it. I had a week to think on it and I shoulda just kept him in the past where he belongs. I…I…I don’t know. I don’t wanna talk about it right now, okay?”

The confusion in the sapphire eyes told more than the words he spoke. Pulling her husband close, she wrapped her arms around him and whispered into the head which found her shoulder, “We can talk about it tomorrow, Heath. It’ll be okay, honey.”

Chapter 18

The first sign his son-in-law had returned home were the new horses in the corral as he rode up the lane to his ranch. Stopping by the corral, the retired banker greeted Charlie Whitehorse and stood beside the quiet man as they leaned against the bars and marveled at the lines of the horses still nervous over their new surroundings.

“Charlie say what you will about Heath Thomson, one thing is for certain he knows horses.” stated Thad with a smile and eyes full of pride.

Nodding, the tall man glanced over and agreed, “He’s always had the gift, Mr. Thad. He was just a kid when he joined our unit, so quiet he gave a few of the boys the willies. Those first few days we saw the gift was in him, the way he had with horses, able to look deep into their souls. Not many can do what he does.”

“No they can’t.” sighed Thad, standing beside the man rescued from the liquor which was killing him.

Heath found the man who once stood beside him on the battlefield, lying in a street in a one horse town on the edge of the Texas border, passed out and filthy. He took him from that place and stood beside him during the period his body fought the withdrawals, then afterward he brought him back to the ranch and gave the older man a sense of purpose again.

Restoring the lost pride in the half Cherokee and not asking for anything in return. Simply helping his fellow soldier from a war of brothers, a place where no boy should have been but many were.

Charlie now was one of them, one of their family. He was solid as the massive rock pushing up from the ground behind the ranch. He could have left but he stayed, he watched over the family of the man who brought him back from the living hell he’d been in. The shame within him was gone and his eyes were bright, full of pride and satisfaction from contributing as an equal.

The sound of laughter coming from behind the house sent a smile across the older man’s face and he shook his head, squeezing the shoulder of the other man before untying the reins of his black.

“Have you ever noticed how much more laughter can be heard when Heath is home?” asked Thad with a smile.

“Yep, he sure gets the twins riled up. He’s like a big kid himself.” chuckled Charlie walking beside the rancher to the barn and helping him strip the gear from the horse.

“Mr. Thad, did you find out who was asking questions in town about Heath?”

Patting the shoulder of the horse, Thad sighed and closed the stall door, taking off his hat and wiping his forehead with a red kerchief. “It was a pinkerton agent. Did you say anything to him about it?”

“No, I knew if I did he’d ride straight to town and shake out whoever it was.” replied the light copper skinned man with a shake of his dark head. “Figured it could wait.”

“I’ll talk to him later after the kids have gone to bed.” agreed the retired banker. “I’ll see you at supper, Charlie. I have some paperwork to do before dinner.”

Leaving the taller man, Thad walked to the house and entered, putting his hat on the peg by the door with his gun. He could hear the laughter from his grandchildren as they played with their beloved papa, the blond’s voice sounding like the growling of a bear caused their small voices to break out in more laughter. Walking over to where his daughter stood in the doorway and watched, he placed a kiss on her cheek, smiling as the two small blonds tackled the bigger one in the soft meadow grass.

“Hi, daddy.” smiled Evangeline. “How was your meeting?”

“It was fine, honey.” said Thaddeus watching the playing in the back yard. “Ned won’t be joining us for dinner. The Thurman boy broke his leg so he had to go out to their ranch.”

“Oh, that’s awful. I hope John will be alright.” replied Evangeline.

Smirking Thad winked, “He’ll be okay until his father finds out he broke it jumping down from the Wesper’s hayloft after Mr. Wesper caught him up there with his daughter.”

Covering her mouth, the light blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “He didn’t!”

“He did.” chuckled Thad with a shake of his head. “I don’t think Johnny will be sitting too good after his father gets home.”

Giggling, Evangeline’s shoulders shook as she placed a kiss on her father’s cheek and walked into the house to see to the evening meal. Thad moved through the house to his study and took a seat behind the desk. Taking the papers from his coat pocket, he studied them again, his face turning dark with a frown.

Leaning back in his chair, he picked up the photograph of his daughter and her family, his eyes falling upon the muscular man holding his two children.

He could remember the first time he’d seen Heath Thomson, just shy of eighteen years old and waiting in the line at his bank. The thin wiry teenager looked far too young to wear the gun that was slung around his hips, the pistol seemed to weigh more than him and yet, it appeared to be an extension of the youngster.

He could remember that day as if it were yesterday, he could feel the heat of the scorching summer day trickling the perspiration down his face as he sat behind the desk in the bank lobby listening to his daughter who recently returned from back east complain again about living in the west. His only child had been sent to live with his sister back east and to attend school when his own wife passed on during a flu epidemic.

His child had stepped foot off the train and felt like she’d gone back in ages. Carson City didn’t have what the big cities back east offered, the culture, the museums, the theaters. The town which was growing, didn’t fill her dreams of being swept off her feet by a prince, her snobbish being couldn’t see past what he’d sent her back east to get.

It happened in the blink of an eye, the doors opened and three men entered, the lust for the riches stored in the bank boldly stated as they pointed their guns at all in the lobby. The scattergun pointed at the customers ensured none of the men would be foolish enough to grab for a weapon for in the close quarters the gun could do as much damage as a cannon. One of the other two men grabbed his daughter roughly by the arm and held onto her while they used her to ensure he would follow their demands.

He stood in place, helpless to help his child and the customers in the bank, his eyes looking over the group of people across the room trying to reassure them without speaking. Moving his eyes across the faces of the frightened customers, he stopped and stared at two eyes of blue ice watching every move the man holding his daughter made.

Suddenly the boy who’d been standing in line was replaced by a mountain lion on two legs. The young man didn’t lose sight of the foul looking man who caused his daughter to cry out in pain as he yanked on her arm. The eyes held a raw power unseen usually in one so young, the orbs sent a chill down his spine and were also a source of relief to him.

Somehow he knew they would be fine for he sensed a confidence in the young stranger, a confidence only found in those who lived with violence and knew violence like an old friend. A confidence unfortunately which made men old before their time.

“We’re taking the girl! Do anything and she’s dead!” threatened the leader dragging Evangeline to the door, watching his third man came from behind the counter with two sacks, one in each hand.

Walking to the man holding the shotgun, he handed one of the bags off and the end of the gun lowered. Evangeline stumbled and fell out of the man’s hold when the hem of her long dress caught on the heel of her boot.

Thaddeus Benton wouldn’t have believed if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, if he hadn’t been witness to the smell of gunpowder which lingered after the blond’s hand moved and their ears rang from the bursting of guns in the small area, the lobby exploded in mass confusion as the rest of the customers lunged to the floor.

He took the man holding the scattergun out first, the man dead before hitting the floor with a bullet in his head. The second man fell with the bag of money still clutched in his hand. The leader off balance when Evangeline stumbled, righted himself and jumped through the window, twisting and aiming at the girl who had shakily climbed back to her feet.

He ran and screamed at his daughter to get down but his voice was drowned out by the two shots, one after the other. The leader laid dying in the street and Heath Thomson lay unconscious in his daughter’s arms, his side bleeding from the bullet he’d taken when he shielded her with his body.

Even now, it was hard for the older man to reconcile in his mind his son-in-law’s gentle nature with the deadly skills he had with a gun. Skills he used after the war in one form or another to earn a living in an economy limping along. It was a time of hardship for their country, a time when a man had to utilize whatever skills he had to survive, to put food on the table and to support an ill mother.

“Are you alright, sir?”

Looking up, the retired banker smiled warmly at his son-in-law and placed the photograph on the desk. Crossing the room, he made his way over to the blond who gazed at him with worried eyes and nodded before placing an arm across the broad shoulders, walking him out of the study.

“I’m fine, Heath. How was your trip?”

Chapter 19

“Grandpa!” screamed the small blonds, rushing over to wrap their arms around the older man’s legs.

Smiling, Thad reached down and tussled the soft heads of hair, winking at his son-in-law, “With a return home like this maybe I should attend more meetings in town.”

Chuckling, Heath nodded before smirking, “Or it could be they think you maybe brought them something from the general store.”

Pouting, Heather looked up at her grandfather and whined, “Papa didn’t bring no candy home this time, grandpa.”

“Only a book.” sighed Evan dramatically with a slow shaking of his head.

“Well, a book won’t make your teeth fall out.” replied Thad seriously. “What kind of book did papa bring for you this time?”

“Girl tales!” scoffed Evan. “Yucky.”

Heath sat on the sofa, pulling his wife down beside him and smirked at his son. “Evan, it’s a book of fairy tales. They’re not just for girls, boys read them too. There’s all kinds of different stories in it.”

“I don’t wanna read ‘em.” stated Heather grabbing onto her grandfather’s hand and shaking it. “I like grandpa’s stories.”

“Me too.” declared Evan firmly.

Evangeline smiled at the rolling eyes of her husband and reached over to squeeze his hand. His own upbringing and inability to formally attend school in the town where he grew up made the desire for his children to be learned strong and top on his priority list for their upcoming years.

Heath smiled into his wife’s loving eyes and winked before turning his eyes back to the two youngest talking to the oldest in the room. He longed for his children to have what he didn’t have growing up. He hoped to afford his children every opportunity he’d never been able to be partake in.

The blue eyes were on his two children but his mind was suddenly miles away across another state. He felt a rush of anger knowing his father’s children grew up having on a daily basis as a normal part of their life what he lacked. He’d done without due to the circumstances of his conception and birth, from being ostracized in his own town.

“Heath, what’s wrong?” asked Evangeline drawing her husband back into the living room of the ranch in Carson City.

Heath shook his head and sighed, “Nothing Ange, I was just thinking. Sorry.”

Evan walked over and crawled into his father’s lap, trying to wrap his arms around the larger body. “Papa, don’t scrunch up your face and be mad. I’ll listen to the stories even if they’s girl stories.”

Chuckling, Heath smiled tenderly into the blue eyes of his son while he ran his fingers through the blond locks. “Evan, papa’s not mad at you. I was thinkin’.”

“I know you’re mad.” admitted Evan. “Heather looks like that at me all the time.”

“DO NOT!” screamed Heather, loudly denying her twin’s revelation and causing her brother to shout back. “DO TOO!”

“Children, enough.” ordered Evangeline firmly stilling the little voices shouting their debate and standing. “Let’s go clean up for dinner now. come now.”

Thad motioned with his head and Heath climbed to his feet, following the older man outside onto the porch. Leaning against one of the wooden beams, Thad waited til the blond sat on the rail.

“How did it look?”

Taking a deep breath, Heath leaned back against the wood post and frowned, “I can see why he’s asking for a couple more partners in the mine. He’s gonna need more capital to improve the conditions. He needs a better grade of lumber for shoring, a stronger rail system. Without those things the ore buried deep within will stay right where nature put it.”

Listening carefully to his son-in-law’s expertise, Thad nodded his understanding before asking, “And what did you think of Dutton?”

“I think he’s more interested in the profit than the means.” replied Heath quietly. “People will die in the Midas mine if he doesn’t improve it. Those men have families, Thad. Everyone wants to get ahead but it shouldn’t be over the corpses of others.”

“No, it certainly shouldn’t be that way, Heath.” said Thad. “When I met his father those few times, he always seemed highly considerate and compassionate of those who worked for him in his mines. Since his death, I think Chad has only thought about how much richer he can get.”

“I know it’s a business and he needs to turn a profit but I hope the cost isn’t too high.” scowled Heath with a shake of his head. “I’ve seen too many men killed or maimed in the mines.”

Putting a hand on the broad shoulder, Thad sighed, “I know how you dislike entering a mine and appreciate you checking it out for me.”

Smiling and waving off the thanks, Heath smirked, “Just don’t expect me to work in that gopher hole. I half expected to grow a tail from being in them so much as a kid.”

Chuckling, the older man smiled at the ease in which his son-in-law was finally able to look back on his own hardships growing up in Strawberry around him. The strong blond could still be tormented by demons of his past but most were no longer dwelled on or forever loomed over his shoulders. He’d worked hard to try to break the hold they had on him since he was a child.

“When I stopped in Kearney on the way back from Midas, I was lucky to see those horses at an auction.” said Heath looking over to the corral. “They have some nice lines in them. I might keep a couple for breeding. What do you think?”

“I think you have more knowledge about horses in your little finger than I’ll ever have.” winked Thad. “I’m just a retired banker not a cowboy or wrangler like yourself.”

“Well, I could say the same thing about your knowledge of investing and stuff like that.” smiled Heath. “I’ll bring in the money and you do what you do with it to make it increase on paper. Unless of course you’re looking to take up a new profession like bronc busting, Thad.”

“Lord, no!” shuddered the older man causing the blond to chuckle before he waved to Charlie who was coming out of the bunkhouse.

“Speaking of investments, Heath, I was checking over yours today and we seem to be missing one. Seems it was liquidated” stated Thad quietly watching his son-in-law carefully. “Is there something I should know?”

Looking down from the knowing eyes, Heath let out a breath and nodded, “I was gonna tell you after dinner but now’s as good a time as any, I reckon.“

“It’s your money, Heath. I was just surprised you didn’t let me know.” assured Thad.

“I did it the day I left for Stockton only I didn’t go there right away.” informed Heath shifting under the older man’s scrutiny. “I went to Santa del Reyes to buy some land from someone and needed the cash.”

“I see.” said Thad before asking, “Are you planning to move? I wasn’t aware there were any parcels for sale around here.”

“I bought some land in California and no I’m not planning on moving.” assured Heath quickly watching his father-in-law relax slightly.

“Oh, so it’s for an investment.” suggested Thad.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Heath blurted out suddenly, “I bought the land the Barkley ranch sits on.”

“YOU DID WHAT!” roared Thad.

Chapter 20

Staring into the eyes of his father-in-law, Heath watched the emotions in their depths change as quickly as a hummingbird’s wing. Squeezing his temples to stop the tension from bursting inside his head, the blond’s shoulders shook and he chuckled dryly.

“Boy howdy, I did it alright! I found out the man who sold them the land didn’t own it so I found the true owner and bought it!” stated Heath jumping up from his seat on the rail.

Thad stared at his son-in-law, the earlier laughter gone as the younger man paced the porch, shaking his head and mumbling. Stopping suddenly and grabbing onto the wooden rail with both hands, his grip turned the knuckles on his hands white from the force he was using and his shoulders were hunched with his head hanging down.

“I bought it just like that! In a matter of minutes, I had this piece of paper, it didn’t take longer than thirty minutes to settle the deal. All the time Tom Barkley’s spent building up that ranch and that empire means nothing now. It’s all for nothing because I have the power to take it all away and bring him to his knees.”

Closing his eyes for the briefest of moments, Thad rubbed a hand across his neck and was drawn back in time to the boy who suddenly reappeared before him. Gone was his gentle son-in-law, replaced by the angry tormented youngster he’d met in the doctor’s office on that fateful day. The deadly quick triggered boy who saved his daughter and the savings the citizens entrusted to the bank on the Texas Panhandle.

“You’re not seriously considering doing such a thing, are you? Taking his ranch away?” asked Thad incredulously. “Heath, what happened when you went to Stockton? Did you see your father?”

Trying to control the renewed anger inside him, the blond retorted, “I saw him, yes.”

“And?” queried Thad as the blond shook his head from the memory of the meeting. “Heath tell me!”

“He said I was lying and he didn’t care what proof I had. He said my mother was barren so I could forget about whatever I was after.” replied Heath bitterly. “I told him I was going to take it all and left him with copies of the deed and birth certificate.”

“Good lord.” mumbled Thad leaning against the post closest to his son-in-law who still had a death grip on the porch rail. “I should’ve gone with you, Heath. I just knew something like this was going to happen.”

Heath slowly released his grip and reached up to run his hand through his hair before sighing, his eyes looking out across the ranch yard, “It wouldn’t have mattered any if you were there, Thad. I expected him to deny it. Of course denial would be his first reaction to something like this. Denial and shock. I thought I was prepared but still when it happened I…it..”

“He lit your short fuse.” offered Thad quietly.

“Yeah, he did at that.” mumbled Heath before adding. “When I left Stockton, I had the stuff we found at mama’s delivered to his oldest son, Jarrod, the lawyer. By now, he’ll know I’m his offspring.”

“Heath, they could destroy those letters.” stated the older man in exasperation. “That’s the only proof you have!”

“No, he’ll return the letters to me.”

“How can you be so sure? Without those things, you have nothing.” implored the former banker.

“Everyone I spoke to says Jarrod Barkley shoots straight as an arrow when it comes to integrity and honesty. Those principles are deeply engrained in him and he can be trusted explicitly. They can destroy them but I still have the deed to their land anyway.” shrugged Heath leaning his head against the post.

“What are you doing to do now? Go back to Stockton?”

After several quiet minutes Heath turned to glance at his father-in-law. Thad was taken back by the defeated look in the blond’s eyes before he shook his head negatively.

“I decided on the way to Midas, I can’t be chasing after something that’ll never be. It won’t give me my mama back and it won’t take away all those…that time in the past.” muttered Heath, his mouth twitching into a slight grin for a brief moment. “I gotta admit I did think about driving a herd of wild horses over that fine land while he had to stand by and watch. It was a nice thought at the time.”

“But you’re not going to.”

“No, I’m not. I just can’t.” admitted Heath with a shake of his head. “I won’t let Ange and the kids be stuck in the middle of some private war I’m waging. Their welfare means more to me than some man who was never there.”

“I’m sorry, Heath.” whispered Thad sadly.

The boy in the man whose shoulder he squeezed in support needed a father during his hard childhood and he deserved to have at least the recognition he knew deep inside the blond was craving. The recognition he was more than just the child labeled from his birth.

“I’m gonna check on the horses.” replied Heath jumping over the rail to the yard below making his way across the open area.

Watching his son-in-law, Thad quietly stated to his daughter who he knew had heard most of the conversation, “He’s hurting inside something fierce, Evangeline, even if he won’t come out and say it. It’s just not right.”

Moving beside her father, the ocean colored eyes were filled with anger and she agreed, “No, it’s not daddy.”

Chapter 21

The early stars of the twilight were just beginning to appear when Jarrod rode into the ranch yard and dismounted in front of the white barn. Leading Jingo inside, he voiced his appreciation to Ciego for his offer to care for the chestnut before taking his leather satchel and crossing to the house.

These past strenuous weeks, he’d found himself reluctant to return home at night, reluctant to enter the impressive door of oak. The strain of waiting, the lack of impatience and the tarnished image of the head of their family were taking their toll on all except Audra who hadn’t been informed yet to the existence of her new sibling.

The oldest son had delivered the package left for him by the youngest son as instructed. He’d placed it in his father’s hands himself and stood by while the letter from Heath’s mother was read, the certificate looked over and the jewelry items examined. Then his father gathered all the items without saying a word and left the study with Jarrod reminding his father as he walked out, his newest son expected the letters and birth certificate returned.

“Jarrod.” called Duke when he saw the attorney crossing the yard.

Stopping, Jarrod waited for the foreman to reach him and nodded, “Evening, Duke. Something wrong?”

Jarrod watched the older man hesitated and mull over his words for a moment before he crossed his arms over his chest, “Jarrod, I would never seek you out but in a way I haven’t been left a choice. When something affects the men or the working conditions it becomes my concern. Normally, I’d speak with Nick or your father but neither seems to be very…willing…right now.”

Letting out a sigh, Jarrod directed the foreman to the chairs on the stoop. Sitting his leather case on the porch and pushing his hat up on his forehead, he nodded, “Tell me Duke, what have they done now.”

“The men don’t wanna work with either of them. The two of ‘em are always snapping and snarling at each other with the boys in between.” replied Duke with a shake of his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a power struggle between them. I tried to talk to both…course you can just imagine what that was like. After all, you have to live with them.”

Jarrod agreed, “Yeah, I’ve been debating on just working in Frisco lately. Running from a problem’s never been an option before, lately it’s sure mighty tempting.”

Chuckling softly, Duke leaned forward with his hands on his knees, his moment of amusement leaving and seriousness returning, “Jarrod, I can’t have them out there on the range working if they’re not at their best. It’s dangerous, for them and the rest of us. Even when your father’s not working with your brother, Nick’s mind isn’t on where he is. He’s somewhere else and I swear the boy’s been daydreaming.”

Nodding, Jarrod took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair before replying, “The family is going through a bit of a rough spot right now, Duke. I’ll talk to them tonight. I appreciate you looking out for the crew and letting me know.”

Standing and shaking the suave man’s hand, Duke winked, “This is not a cushy lawyer job, you know. We gotta keep our wits about us when we’re working.”

Laughing, Jarrod clapped the older man on the back. “I’ll keep that in mind, Duke the next time I find I’m day dreaming in court. Good night.”

“Night, Jarrod.” said Duke turning and walking down the steps, melding in with the shadows.

Standing for a moment and staring into the night sky, Jarrod felt his stomach clench in anger and he picked up his leather case. Entering the mansion, he placed his hat on the table walking into the parlor, seeing only his mother and sister on the settee with their backs to him, looking at something he couldn’t see.

Turning, he strode across the foyer into the study catching the sound of raised voices behind the door before he pushed it open and was met by the cloud of emotion hanging in the room. Entering, Jarrod quietly closed the door behind him and stood watching the two other males in the room banging heads.

“Father, what would it hurt to go talk to him?” asked Nick angrily standing in front of the desk with his hands on his hips. “He could’ve kicked us off the ranch already if he wanted to. He owns it!”

“I know that Nicholas! But we don’t know what type of person he is. He could be a convicted killer for all we know! You’re the one who thought we should wait for a pinkerton report before we do anything, remember?” challenged Tom.

Turning red, Nick leaned on the desk and glared into the brown eyes of his father, grinding out forcefully, “Don’t turn this around on me! I’m not the one rolling over and letting all we’ve worked for be taken just like that! This is our home, Father! You built this house, this whole ranch!”

“I am well aware of that.” hissed Tom through clenched teeth. “I have your mother and sister to consider also. Nicholas, we’re not some run of the mill family in this community. With power and prestige come responsibilities. This town has always looked to our family for support, for leadership. What kind of backlash do you think this will cause?”

“He’s your child, Father. You’ve always taught us to own up to our mistakes but you’re gonna turn your back on Heath Thomson because of the town? Who cares what the town thinks?” snapped Nick slapping his palm on the desk. “Go to Carson City and see him. If you don’t, I will!”

“You will not!” commanded Tom springing from his chair and leaning on the desk like his son. Closing his eyes, he took a moment before softening his voice. “We need to explore all the options before we do anything, Nicholas. This isn’t only about him, it’s about our whole family. You, Jarrod, Audra…your mother. I want to do what’s best for everyone, not just Heath Thomson.”

Shaking his head at the brick wall of stubbornness he’d run up against again, Nick let out a deep breath and straightened before running his hands through his black hair. Jarrod stepped further into the room, surprising the others and calmly walked to the desk, taking a file out of his leather case and slapping it on the desk while his father and Nick watched.

“Your report, Father.” stated Jarrod putting a hand on the file when his father reached for it, his blue eyes burning into the brown orbs before shifting to the hazel eyes of his brother.

“Your behavior towards each other is affecting the ranch crew. They’d prefer not to have to work with bosses who are at each other’s throats or whose minds are wondering. Whatever differences you have, leave them at home. They don’t need to be witnesses to it or be put in harm’s way.”

Both strong willed men let out a sigh and nodded, agreeing with the spoken truth. Jarrod looked down at the folder his hand was on and shook his head, glancing up at his father, his voice quivering from his anguish.

“Everything we own doesn’t even come close to what Heath Thomson deserves as retribution for what’s in this report, Father. I pray one day he can find it in his heart to allow me to be his brother.”

Chapter 22

Sitting in front of her small dressing table in her silk light purple robe, Victoria studied her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t feel old and yet her body had started going through the change, nature’s sign she wasn’t as young as she used to be, a sign of natural progression much like her hair. Once it was blonde like her daughter’s but it had slowly turned to silver.

Studying the corner of her eyes, it seemed the small wrinkles appeared out of nowhere and overnight. Her soft skin was lightly tanned from working amongst her flowers and the daily rides across the Barkley land.

Her small face spoke of a lifetime of experiences, good and bad. Those experiences over the years shaped the thin line of steel which ran through her inner body leaving her with a quiet confidence and determination.

Closing her eyes, she could see that time as if it were yesterday instead of over twenty three years ago. She felt the tears hovering behind her eyelids at the memory of the two small babies taken to a better place. The grief of losing her two children still had the ability to drive a bolt of pain into her heart.

She knew Mary and Mark would never be forgotten for they were in her heart as much as her other children. Her nightly prayers included the twins lost to them who were, she was certain, running and playing amongst the clouds in the world of light where only goodness lived.

Glancing over to the mantle clock above the fireplace in the master bedroom, Victoria shook her head and stood. Nick and Jarrod had left their father alone at his request to read the pinkerton file and he had yet to make an appearance out of the study.

She had overheard Nick questioning his brother about the report on Heath Thomson from the parlor after Audra had gone to bed. When she appeared in the foyer, the questions stopped but one look at her first born’s eyes left her with a queasy stomach.

Whatever was in the file her husband had been waiting for wasn’t good.

Jarrod hadn’t needed to say anything for his despair was evident in the cloud swirling around him. She knew Nick sensed it for his questions hadn’t been brusque or demanding, they’d been inquisitive and calmly asked. Placing a kiss on each of her sons’ cheek, she climbed the grand staircase and entered her room, waiting long after she normally would have retired for the night.

Moving from her dressing table, she walked to the bureau and hesitated before opening a box of mahogany and pulling out the letter. She’d read Leah Thomson’s letter before when Tom had shown her the package delivered to Jarrod’s office. Turning, she walked back to the bed and adjusted the pillows so she could lean comfortably against the headboard.

Pulling out the faded paper, she slowly opened it and reread the words again, her eyes lifting from the letter and studied the closed door of their room. The anger and hurt which once accompanied her mental picture of the unseen woman from Strawberry was gone years ago.

Tonight she felt the same emotions as she had the first time she read the letter dated so long ago. For this unseen woman she felt a sense of pride, compassion and a sense of awe.

Leah Heather Thomson must have known it wouldn’t be easy to be an unwed woman expecting a married man’s baby. She must have known the stigma the others in the community would attach to her and yet, she hadn’t posted the letter. She probably knew Tom would care for the child but Leah had kept Heath’s existence a secret. She knew Leah had done it to protect her and her children.

The news in the letter would have surely ripped their family apart those years ago for the raw wounds could not have taken more savagery from hurt. The admission of what happened had taken a long time to get over and even longer to rebuild the trust between them as husband and wife. No, she was sure they would not have survived the news of the pending birth.

Sliding the letter back into its envelope, Victoria studied the handwriting on the outside and sighed, “I don’t know if I could have done the same thing, Leah. I don’t know if I could have been as strong as you. I’m ashamed to feel thankful and grateful for the choice you made at the time. You gave us a chance to be a family again and I promise, I’ll do my best to see Tom does right by your son.”

Rising and placing the letter back in the box, Victoria opened the door and moved quietly down the hallway. Stopping and standing on the landing, she watched the man she’d married at sixteen climb the steps.

His shoulders were hunched, one hand on the banister and the other clutched a file while his legs moved as if he were struggling to raise them out of a thick substance. His face looked upward and she inhaled sharply at the paleness and the remnants of wetness on his cheeks.

Stepping back to give him room, she reached up and caressed his cheek, studying his brown eyes wet from crying and filled with guilt. Leaning down, he rested his head on her shoulder and shuddered at the anguish still wracking him hours later.

Victoria wrapped her arms around her large husband, rubbing her small hands over his back and listening as he mumbled against her shoulder.

“Why didn’t she tell me? I would’ve helped but she didn’t tell me. Why didn’t she?”

Moving her hands to hold his face, Victoria shook her head and whispered, “It could be she loved you too much to force you to accept Heath. Or perhaps Heath was the only way she had to keep you in her life. Perhaps he was a reminder of what you had. I personally think it’s because she didn’t want to destroy your family, Tom. I believe that’s why she didn’t post the letter. We’ll never know for sure but I honestly believe we owe Leah a large debt of gratitude for her sacrifice. We can’t repay her because she’s gone but we can take care of her son….your son.”

“Vic, what if I pushed him away too hard?” whispered the man who aged over the past hours. “I know he’s my son but how do I take back what I’ve already done to him?”

Drawing her stricken husband into her arms, Victoria whispered in his ear, “You can’t Tom. You’ve already done it but you can let him know he is your son as much as your other children. It’s not going to be easy, honey. Remember, the good things in life are never free or easy. When you work for something, the reward is so much sweeter.”

Chapter 23

Studying his big brother pour two glasses of scotch, Nick waited til Jarrod handed over his glass and took a seat in the overstuffed chair by the dormant fireplace. Sitting across from the man who’d always watched over him since he’d come hollering into the world, Nick tried to keep his curiosity and impatience under tight rein.

The contents of the pinkerton report had affected his older brother and the blue eyes looking out from the face lined with exhaustion didn’t reflect his presence, only a tortured gaze from the information he was privy to.

Shifting on the chair to lean his head back and stretch out his legs, Nick’s long fingers held onto the glass while he scrutinized his brother.

“Jarrod, you’ve been working too hard.” suggested Nick softly, his voice breaking through the fog of swirling facts in the legal trained mind.

Lifting his eyes to the concerned hazel orbs across from him, Jarrod heaved a deep sigh before leaning back against his chair, raising the glass and swallowing a mouthful of the smooth barley malted liquor.

“I’m fine, Nick.” assured Jarrod loosening the top buttons of his shirt after unknotting his tie and teasing, “Besides I thought you always said reading all day isn’t hard work.”

Nick had the good grace to turn red at the same words he’d hurled in anger towards his lawyer brother only a week before and put his glass on the table beside him.

“You know I didn’t mean it, Jarrod.” replied the dark haired man leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees. “I know you’ve been busting your tail to find a loop hole and get us back the ranch, Pappy.”

Letting out a disgusted snort, Jarrod suddenly lost his taste for the exquisite liquor in his glass and placed it roughly on the bedside table. Running his hands through his hair, the first born rubbed his hands over his weary eyes.

“I can’t find a shred of anything for us to stand on except possession is nine-tenths of the law.” admitted Jarrod upset with his lack of obtaining a way to get the deed back to the ranch. “Even that’s grasping at straws and will serve no useful purpose other than to drag everyone through a lengthy trial which we will not win.”

“Does it really matter, Jarrod?” asked Nick shrugging his shoulder.

“It matters to Father, Nick.” stated Jarrod. “Aren’t you worried we’ll lose the land?”

“I’m not so sure lately that’s gonna happen. It’s been five weeks since he left. If he wanted the land, I think he’d have done something…anything by now to let us know.”

The same thought had crossed the mind of the only attorney in the Barkley family and Jarrod nodded, “Yeah I thought that myself, Nick. ”

“Do you think after reading that report Father will be more open to going to Carson City?” queried Nick and then adding with a frown, “I’m not so sure the report was a good idea.”

“If it changes Father’s mind, I’d say it was well worth it.” reassured Jarrod leaning over and pulling his boots off. “Let me ask you something little brother.”

Drawn from his brooding inner thoughts, Nick said, “Shoot.”

“Put yourself in Heath Thomson’s boots for a moment.” suggested Jarrod watching the hazel eyes fill with puzzlement before the dark head of hair nodded.

“Now, imagine you grew up without a father, were treated lower than dirt on a daily basis and done worse to by others because your mother wasn’t married. You went off to do a man’s job in the mines at the age of six instead of going to school, then worked in a livery before signing up in a war…when the war’s done you have to find a way to support your sick mother. It’s only you and her….

but the only work you can find is using your gun because you’re unlucky enough to be born with fast reflexes and a deadly aim to go along with the label of bastard….then your mother dies after you find out your absentee father was one of the richest men in California….You go to California with proof and are denied even a chance at a decent conversation with this man….what would you have done as Heath Thomson?”

Several minutes passed in the spacious bedroom on the second floor of the grand mansion while Nick closed his eyes and tried to put himself in the boots he found difficult for anyone to have walked in. Letting out a soft chuckle, Nick shook his head and glanced into the eyes of his waiting brother.

“I’d have gone to jail.” answered Nick confidently. “I don’t know if I could’ve controlled the anger at finding out he was well off and could’ve taken care of my mother. I might not have killed…my father…but I sure as hell would’ve tried to take what I felt he owed my mother outta his hide.”

Sighing, Jarrod nodded, “Me too.”

“Is that what’s in that report?” whispered Nick, his stomach clenching at the small nod of agreement. “Good lord.”

“That’s a brief overview, little brother.” stated Jarrod. “He hasn’t had it easy…ever, Nick.”

“Jarrod, that day in the church…I felt it. It was so strong and I know he felt it too. He just didn’t know what that feeling was. How could he know it? How could he know that’s the feel of brotherhood?” muttered Nick before looking up. “Maybe we can ask him to move here with us! On the ranch!”

Jarrod sat in his chair, staring at the younger man whose excitement reached out towards him. Holding up a hand to stop the rambling thoughts, Jarrod took a moment before talking.

“Nick, I didn’t give father all the report.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because I wanted him to see what Heath’s life was like without knowing all the details. I want Father to have to go and speak to Heath, his son.”

“So you’re gonna force Father to face up to what his…behavior has done and give him a reason to do what’s right?”

“I’m giving him a push in the right direction.” smirked Jarrod before reaching into his coat and pulling out some additional papers, handing them across to his brother. “We’re uncles, Nick!”

To be continued…