Personal Attention

by dcat

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.

Heath walked out of the telegraph office in Dixon and proceeded to open up the envelope and read the contents of the telegraph that was addressed to him. He’d just arrived in town after delivering a string of eight wild horses to the Andrew’s ranch about 24 miles outside of Dixon. All he really wanted was a room for the night and a hot bath. He’d been on the road for about eight days.

He unfolded the paper and started to read the words.

Heath – Hope you made it to Dixon without problem –Before heading home to Stockton need you to stop in San Francisco – Very important and urgent – Requires your personal attention – See you soon – Jarrod

Heath reread the telegram several times and pondered over what Jarrod could possibly need him for. His mind was drawing a blank as to what it could possibly be about and Jarrod hadn’t mentioned anything before he’d left for San Francisco. He scanned up and down the street as if to find the answer, but it was nearing suppertime, the sun was beginning to sink and most folks in this tiny town were all in their own homes ready to say grace and begin their family time. Even if he could find someone in this deserted California town, no one could give him the answer he was looking for.

He scowled up his face and decided to walk over to the saloon and at least have a drink before he’d start riding toward San Francisco. If he rode straight through, he’d be there by about the same time tomorrow night. In the nearly two years he’d been a Barkley, he knew that if Jarrod said something was urgent, it meant he really needed it as soon as possible.

He folded up the telegram and stepped into the dusty street. The good night’s sleep and the hot bath would have to wait till tomorrow night when he got to San Francisco and found out what was so important to Jarrod.

He led Charger over to the livery stable and paid the teenage boy to brush him down good and feed him, while he himself went off in search of a drink.

As he stepped into the saloon, there was only one other customer having a drink. The bartender was chatting with the saloon girl. Heath walked up to the bar and asked for a whiskey. The bartender served him up quickly and asked him if he wanted any dinner. Heath thought about it for a second and answered yes. Even a bad hot meal would help him make it through the long ride ahead. And twenty minutes here or there wasn’t going to make that big of a difference in him arriving in San Francisco any sooner.

He grabbed the bottle and headed over to a nearby table, and waited patiently for his plate of food. He heard the bartender say it was chicken pie. It sounded tasty enough, and sure enough better than burnt beans and jerky. Days like this made him think of the time before he came to the valley. He felt very alone. He liked being a cowboy, enjoyed the work, the physical-ness of it, but even more so now, he liked going home every night to a family. Dirty, empty bars, cheap hotel rooms and dusty clothes were a thing of the past, except for days like this when it crept up on him and made him realize what a lucky man he really was.

The plate of food came and Heath quickly made light of it and drank down another shot of whiskey. He paid the bartender and stepped out into the late, hazy sun of evening. He squinted as he pushed through the doors. There still wasn’t anyone on the street. He’d soon forget Dixon, there was nothing in this town for him.

He started to ride toward San Francisco and the hazy sun, gave way to an orange sunset and finally the sky turned from light blue to dark blue and then, darkness set in. Only the stars and a quarter moon illuminated the well-traveled trail.

‘I suppose Jarrod needs me to sign something important regarding the ranch,’ Heath thought as he rode along. ‘Must be buying or selling some part of it and it just can’t wait till he gets back to Stockton.’

Heath thought Jarrod was quite possibly the smartest man he’d ever known. Not only was he perhaps the finest attorney in the state, he was a shrewd businessman when it came to land and business holdings, and he was also compassionate and caring, and gave much thought to everything that he was involved with. While many people often remarked that Nick was the closest embodiment of Tom Barkley, Heath liked to think that Jarrod was actually more like his father. But not having had the privilege of knowing Tom Barkley for himself, that would always remain a mystery.

There were days he had now where he always felt he’d been in the valley his whole life, it felt that good and comfortable and right. And there were also days that he’d spent wondering about his father and what his life might have been like if things had been different. He’d always have those thoughts, no matter how old he’d get or where his life might take him. It was something he would carry forever, there was no turning his back to it.

Charlie Sawyer had only served to dig it all up again, all the bad things, the heartache, the loss, the questions, the stares and the doubts.

And now, it was gone and resolved once again.

The night air caused him to shiver and he reached into his saddlebag and pulled out his jacket and he slipped it on as he continued to ride. He hummed a little cowboy song to Charger and moved closer to his final destination of San Francisco.

At dawn he stopped near a stream and built himself a small fire, large enough to brew up some coffee. He let Charger have a good long drink, while he stretched out his tired body. He even managed a ten-minute catnap. Then it was back to riding.

‘After this ride, I’m making that older brother of mine buy me the biggest steak in town,’ he said to Charger. ‘It’s the least he can do.’

The long day became the long, hot day. The sun baked down on him as he rode. It was the kind of day that a twenty-minute downpour of rain would be almost miraculous. He’d get none of that on this day. Another layer of dust and grim settled in on his clothes.

It was just about the time for the sun to turn to haze, when he came upon the rise and saw the bustling city below. A cool wash of sea breeze blew over him and refreshed him. It would be about thirty-five minutes to Jarrod’s office, and hopefully not long after that the hot bath and plentiful meal, followed by a good night’s rest on a soft bed. He smiled at the thought of it all.

Jarrod already had the lamp burning in his office, even though it was still light outside. Heath could see him through the glass and into the back of the office through a partially opened door, hunkered over a stack of papers and a book that looked to weigh about eight pounds.

He entered the quiet office and called out to his brother. “Jarrod?” He glanced around and saw the neat and clean front desk of Bridget, Jarrod’s receptionist. He must have sent her home for the evening.

Jarrod stood up and peered around the corner. “Heath, is that you?”

“Yeah, I just got here,” Heath called back to him, closing the outer door behind him.

“Come on in, don’t just stand there,” Jarrod said, motioning for him to come back to his office area.

Heath walked on back.

“Have a seat, can I get you drink?” Jarrod asked him.

“Sure, whiskey’s fine,” Heath said, peering around the office. He’d only been in Jarrod’s San Francisco office a handful of times if that. It was much more elegant than his office in Stockton. There was a lot to look it.

Jarrod poured two shots and carried it over and handed one to Heath. “Sit down, it looks like you could use a rest,” he said again to his weary looking brother.

Heath gave himself a once over and again looked around at the impeccable surroundings. “I’m a dirty, dusty mess Jarrod, I don’t want to get it all over everything.”

“Nonsense, sit down,” he insisted again.

Heath took off his hat and spotted a rather plain chair. He opted for that one, hoping he wouldn’t grime it up too much. “I just thought I’d stop here first and let you know that I got into town. I could really use a bath and a meal.”

“All in due time, brother,” Jarrod said, “First about that business that requires your personal attention.”

Heath drank down the whiskey. “Yeah, what exactly is this all about? You have me wondering. Did we buy something or sell something?”

Jarrod went behind his desk and pulled out a file. “Neither,” Jarrod replied, coming back over and sitting down next to Heath.

“Well, what’s so important then?” Heath asked. “I thought it was some ranch business.”

“In a way it is,” Jarrod said with a smile, “here, take a look.” Jarrod handed him the file.

Heath set down the shot glass and opened up the file and started to read the contents. Jarrod watched his face closely for his reaction.

Heath was puzzled, but he continued to read the paperwork in his hand. Finally, looking over to Jarrod he said, “I’m not sure I understand.”

“I had them drawn up right after Charlie Sawyer came to Stockton, after our discussion we had in your room. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. We shouldn’t have waited on this for so long already. It may seem like a formality, but with your permission, I’d like it to be official,” Jarrod explained.

“And this is going to make it legal?” Heath asked.

“Yes, in the law’s eyes. I’m sure by now you know how we all feel,” Jarrod said.

“So this is a ‘birth certificate’ of sorts?”

“I told you I could make it entirely legal and binding. It’s a permanent and ever lasting document. All you have to do is sign it with your name,” he paused, “Heath Barkley.”

“And the rest of the family? Mother?” Heath asked with concern.

“No one knows about it yet, but you and I. I guess you could say that, well, selfishly, I wanted to surprise you with it myself. And if for some reason, you don’t want to sign it, no one will ever know, I promise you.”

“Will they feel the same way Jarrod?”

“Yes, I’m sure they will,” Jarrod said solemnly.

Heath looked at Jarrod and studied the blazing blue eyes for any sign of insincerity. He couldn’t find any. He didn’t think he would.

“Then, I’d like to sign it too,” Heath said.

Jarrod gave him a grin and stood up and patted him on the back and handed him a pen. “We can still get this over to the courthouse and file it with the county clerk tonight,” the happiness in Jarrod’s voice filled the room.

Heath steadily signed his name to all the pages that Jarrod indicated to him. He handed the file back to Jarrod and stood up. “I don’t know quite what to say Jarrod, thanks doesn’t seem like it’s near enough. This is the best surprise I’ve had in my entire life. It’s very special, this is something else all right,” he held out his hand for Jarrod to shake. “It just means so much to me Jarrod,” he said quietly, his voice starting to break. Jarrod grabbed his hand first and pulled him into a brotherly hug. “Thank you,” Heath added, while locked in the embrace.

“It’s my pleasure Heath,” Jarrod whispered back.

Heath pulled away and said, “I feel a little guilty, I thought all this personal attention stuff was some sort of business deal, I was gonna make you buy me dinner, but if it’s ok with you, I’d like to treat you tonight Jarrod.”

“You’re on,” Jarrod said grinning.

They both grabbed their hats and out they went into the San Francisco night.

“Well, it’s the least I can do in lieu of paying some exorbitant legal fee for drawing up all these documents,” Heath teased, smiling back at him.

“Ah, see, now you find out just how handy having a brother as a lawyer can be.”

The hot bath and the soft bed could wait a while longer, the new and legally official Heath Barkley had a celebration dinner to attend.

THE END