Coming to Terms, Part 3

Two Weeks

by doreliz

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.

Thursday

For over a year now, Audra had made a point of visiting the mission orphanage at least once a week, usually Thursday, to help care for and teach the children. This Thursday she could not resist watching the horse-breaking in the morning, but then, not waiting for lunch, changed her trousers for a modest dress suitable for work at the mission while Ciego hitched her favorite driver Buttermilk to the carriage and Silas filled a basket with his baking. Audra ate sandwiches and munched an apple during her hour’s drive to the mission.

In spite of her best intentions, she was not sure how to speak of Heath with the people there, but when Padre Juan had finished telling her about the latest orphan she plucked up her courage.

“Have you heard, Padre, there’s a newcomer in my family too?”

“No, Señorita, I did not know this.”

“He’s my brother, he grew up in the mountains, but he’s come to join us now.”

The Padre was silent for a minute, perhaps working out in his mind what to say. “Is it that your father has sinned in this matter, Señorita?”

“I’m afraid that’s true, Padre.”

“This is a cause of sorrow for you, daughter.”

“It – it was a shock. But we’ll get over it, we’ll go on, and maybe it will be all right in the end.”

“I hope he is a good man, this brother.”

“I hope so – I think so.”

All the time she worked and played with the children thoughts about Heath were in the back of her mind. On the way home, scarcely having to think about driving since her horse knew the way as well as she did, she began to explain it to herself.

“Some of the orphans are really orphans, because their parents died,” she told Buttermilk’s rear end. “But some of them are foundlings, nobody knows who their parents were. And some, their mothers tried to look after them but they just couldn’t manage. What if that had happened to Heath?” And again, after a bit, “Maybe some of them had fathers who didn’t know, or didn’t care, what happened to them.” She wept a little over that.

At last she came back to what her mother had said. “We can’t change the past, but we can do our best in the future to make it right.”

-------------

That day Jarrod had a press of legal business that barely allowed him time to make the arrangements he wanted at the bank, and kept him in town until past his usual time for leaving. He reached home to find the other members of the family gathering before dinner.

“I’m sorry to be late, Mother. Will you forgive me if I don’t clean up?”

Victoria smiled. “I think you’ll pass, dear.” Her eyes flicked to Nick and then Heath.

“What kept you so long?” Nick brought Jarrod a drink. He had a prominent bruise on the left cheekbone and other scratches on the left side of his face, he smelled of liniment, and he wore his most stubborn expression. Heath, standing silent and poker-faced by the cold fireplace, was holding his right arm awkwardly as if he had a sore shoulder.

“Work. Very dull. – Was the colt-breaking more fun?”

“You should’ve been here!”

Audra suppressed a giggle. “I’ll tell you, Jarrod. Heath broke both colts Nick brought in yesterday, just beautifully – I never saw it done better. So what did Nick do? He had them bring out the grey stallion for Heath to try.” The grey stallion, captured from the wild a few weeks before, had already broken bones of two of the men who had tried to ride him, and nearly killed the mare when they tried to use him for breeding.

Jarrod frowned. This sounded as if Nick had hoped to be rid of Heath once and for all. But

obviously it hadn’t happened.

“Competitive instinct,” Gene remarked from the sofa.

“What happened?”

Nick took up the story. “Heath stuck him for over a minute. Damn – sorry, Mother – good ride.” He added details. “When he did fall, he rolled safe, but he hurt his shoulder some. It was me goin’ in after him when he didn’t need it – I skidded in the dirt like a fool, scraped my face. Never mind that. We’ve got a bronc rider here.”

“Is that so? – You all right, Heath?”

“Be fine tomorrow.”

“Going to try him again?”

Heath said in his flat emotionless way, “I told Nick he better get rid of that horse. He can’t be broke, and by what I hear he’s no good for stud. Shoot him or let him go.”

“Sounds like good advice to me. Nick?”

“I’m not havin’ that horse shot! He’s too fast, too strong – and you know the kind of trouble he was makin’ before we caught him, so I’m not lettin’ him go. Gonna have another try at breakin’ him, anyway.”

“Not me,” said Heath.

“Scared?” Nick challenged.

“I got nothin’ to prove to you.”

Victoria intervened. “Nick, I expect Heath is quite right, and the horse can’t be broken. I never liked the look of him, myself. Best to call the attempt a loss and forget it, before anyone else is hurt.”

“You takin’ his word over mine? You don’t even know him!”

“But we do know you, Nick,” Gene commented.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick turned on his youngest brother.

“It means we know, if you once set your heart on doing something, you don’t know when to quit. You set your heart on taming that horse.”

“Gene’s right,” Audra chimed in. “It’s just your Barkley stubbornness makes you insist on it. Hasn’t he done enough damage?”

“I agree,” said Jarrod. “Shoot the beast.”

“Is this another family vote?” Nick demanded. “Why am I always on the losing end?”

“Because you’re never happy in the middle,” Gene told him. “You always have to be at one end or the other.”

“That’s enough from you, college boy! – All right, all right, I’ll do in the mornin’.” Nick was not entirely displeased to have the sensible solution to this problem forced on him by the family, but he would never admit it.

Over dinner Jarrod heard about Audra’s visit to the orphanage in the afternoon, and that Nick, Heath, and Gene had ridden to inspect the herd in the north pasture. “So you had a quiet afternoon, Mother?” he asked when they had adjourned to the living room.

Victoria smiled a little wearily. “I wrote letters.”

Nick suddenly paid attention. “Who were you writin’ to?”

“We each have a task in introducing Heath, Nick. You spoke to the hands, and Jarrod spoke to people in town. My task, for the present, is to write to people at a distance who deserve to know directly from us, starting with your father’s brothers and sisters.”

“Uncle Jim, fine – I don’t care about the rest.”

Heath asked, “How many are there?” He had taken a seat beyond Audra, on the edge of the group, as if avoiding the attention forced on him the night before. Though he appeared more relaxed than they had yet seen him, Jarrod noticed nevertheless that he was listening intently to the conversation, as if picking up clues to the nature of these strangers among whom he found himself.

“Two uncles and three aunts, living, on the Barkley side,” answered Audra. “Uncle Jim’s in California, he has a place south of San Francisco, and we see him now and then – though not as often as I’d like; it’s not near the railroad, so it’s not handy to get there. The others are all back east: Uncle Harry and Aunt Molly in Pennsylvania, Aunt Susan in Ohio and Aunt Becky in Illinois, and none of us really knows them. But they might be offended if they heard of your coming roundabout, rather than directly from us.”

“And it would never do to offend them,” added Nick on a sarcastic note.

“Family connections deserve that much respect,” reproved Victoria, and then relented. “I must admit I haven’t been very regular about corresponding with any of them, since your father died. He used to write to them more often, once the postal service was good enough. I only met them briefly at the time we were married, and again when we took Eugene and Audra east on the train in the spring of 1870 – the spring before your father was killed.”

“Showing off how well you’d done in California, and what fine children you had,” said Gene lightly.

“I don’t remember a lot of details from that trip,” Audra confessed. “We seemed to be always going to strange little towns that were hard to get to, and visiting people who didn’t have room for us, and I wasn’t too sure who all of them were.”

“Cousins too?” asked Heath.

“Many many cousins! Perhaps some of them were second cousins, or children of old friends, I can’t remember, but there were a lot of them. – Uncle Jim doesn’t have any children, though. All the cousins I really know are on Mother’s side – she has two sisters in Denver, Aunt Elmira and Aunt Serena, and we visit back and forth sometimes. – That’s a lot of names and no need for you to remember them, except Uncle Jim.”

Gene said casually, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Uncle Jim comes for a visit as soon as he can after he reads Mother’s letter. Just to look you over, Heath, and make sure we’re all right!”

Heath shrugged. “He can come if he likes.” He looked back at Audra. “No grandparents?”

“No. Grandma Barkley was the last, and I know she died before we were there in ’70 – Mother, do you remember the year?”

“Molly’s letter came in August – ’66, or was it ’67? It wasn’t long after the war, Jarrod was still away. Your father grieved for her, though he hadn’t seen her for over twenty years – he’d hoped to get back for a visit while she was still living.”

“It was ’67, I think,” said Jarrod. “I saw her a couple of times when I was in the east – I was in the army for three years, Heath, and then I went on to law school before I came home. – She was a big old woman, I remember, with snow white hair, and she made a fuss over ‘Tommy’s little boy’. You can imagine how much I enjoyed that!” He had other memories of his grandmother, of debilities, illness, and anger, but it would not help to speak of those things. Instead he added, “It was a shock to me when I did get home, that Father’s hair was nearly white too – I didn’t remember him being more than a little grey before I left. But I was away six years, and it was an anxious time.”

“The grey didn’t show so much in his fair hair,” Victoria recalled. “I was the one who had grey hair, for many years, and then I turned around one day and saw that his was nearly white.” After a moment’s silence she added, “He was always surprising me.”

“He never told you all his secrets?” Gene was trying to be helpful, prompting her to say more.

“Never. – Oh, I knew the outlines of his business affairs, of course; he made sure of that – at least until the last couple of years, when Jarrod was home again and Nick was helping run the ranch – then he took them more into his confidence, and me less, perhaps. By that time I had my own concerns, too, separate from his. But I never knew all the details, or all his friends, or – or all he did away from home. I never thought I needed to.” Her voice quivered a little in spite of herself.

That was venturing too close to danger. Nothing could be worse, Jarrod thought – and they would all have agreed with him – than Victoria bursting into tears here and now. She was not given to tears, but the last two days had been harder for her than any of her children could guess.

To give her time, he turned to Gene, asking about his plans for the next day.

“I told you, I promised to visit the Mitchells in Sacramento over tomorrow night. I can catch the afternoon train, and come back Saturday evening on the 8:45. I can leave my horse at the livery, there should be a moon to get home by.”

“Whatcha have to go there for?” rumbled Nick.

“No concern of yours, big brother! – I don’t owe money, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s a promise, that’s all.”

“Oh, and what if you’d got shot the other day? What’d happen to your promise then?”

“Leave it alone, Nick,” Jarrod recommended. “Tomorrow’s the day we said we’d take Heath into town and introduce him around. Morning, before Gene catches his train, or afternoon?”

“Morning,” said Gene.

“Afternoon,” said Nick, simultaneously and louder.

“Do you have a preference, Heath?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I have some work to do sometime; a couple of hours in the morning ought to be enough. Why don’t you all meet me for early lunch at the Cattlemen’s, say 11:30, and then we’ll put Gene on the train and go on from there?”

“That way I miss the fun,” Gene protested.

“This isn’t fun!” Nick declared. “Besides, half the places we have to go, they might not be too sure who you are!”

“Oh, I thought you were going to introduce Heath at respectable places!”

Jarrod suppressed a laugh. “I imagine we’ll be making the rounds of the stockyard and the freight sheds, not to mention the wheelwright’s and the harnessmaker’s. Do they all know you, Gene?”

“They might.”

“Or they might not!” Nick pounced.

Victoria suggested, “You’d better stop at your favorite saloons too. Treat the customers to a drink.”

“Yes, Mother, I was thinking that would be appropriate.”

“But don’t stay all night!” said Audra vehemently.

“That would certainly not be appropriate, little sister.” Jarrod began to guess at what his mother had meant by opening Audra’s eyes a little, and he did not like it. He had quite satisfactory arrangements of his own, which were not in any way a proper subject for discussion with a well-brought-up girl not yet nineteen – and Nick’s, so far as he understood them, were even less so. As for Heath – he did not know his new brother well enough yet to anticipate.

Nick, tactful for once, went back to talking about the colts broken that morning, and asking Audra to carry on their training when the men had gone. Nothing could please her more, and she responded eagerly. This was a subject on which even Heath had something to say, and Jarrod gladly took up his book. It was almost like a normal evening.

When the talk of horses finally died away, Jarrod cleared his throat. “I’m afraid we have a little more business to do.”

“What’s that?” asked Nick suspiciously.

“I told you last night, the bank wants us all to sign a document agreeing to give Heath access to the ranch account. We have to agree that if he makes off with all our money” – he did his best to make that sound like a joke – “it’s our loss and not the bank’s.” He took out a paper and laid it on the writing table.

“Is that the document?” Victoria put her needlework aside. “I’ll sign it now.”

“Me too!” Audra jumped up eagerly.

“You really trustin’ me with all your money?” Heath still seemed incredulous.

“I should have said, all the money in the ranch bank account,” replied Jarrod, remembering how he had that morning transferred over half the money from that account into another. “There’s plenty more, other places, that you don’t need to be concerned with for the time being, but this you need.”

“Come on, Nick, Gene.” Audra held out the pen her mother had just finished using.

Nick did not move. “I’ll sign it at the bank, tomorrow.”

Gene got up. “I won’t have the chance to do that.” He signed, and Audra after him. Jarrod had already done so earlier in the day.

“That’s done, then. Until tomorrow.”

-------------

Friday

Jarrod was leaving his office to walk to the Cattlemen’s Hotel when his three brothers rode by on their way to the livery. He saw heads turn, and turn again, a ripple of attention-calling and inaudible comment. As long as it was inaudible, he could ignore it and make a show of greeting them. Though Heath was riding a showy horse from the remuda instead of his Modoc pony, in his mended shirt he still looked like a poor cowhand in contrast to Nick’s gleaming leathers and Gene’s neat summer suit.

The waiter in the hotel dining room was a recent arrival with little knowledge of Valley affairs, who might not even have heard the gossip, but who knew Jarrod for a valuable customer, and gave his party the front corner table on request. He looked down his nose a little at Heath’s shabbiness, but he had seen wealthy men sit down with poor ones before in Stockton.

Since it was Friday, the menu offered a choice of roast beef or fish. Jarrod and Gene chose fish; Nick stuck to his usual beef, and Heath followed his example. Because they were so early, only one other table was occupied, but by the time their order came the room had begun to fill up. Curious eyes shifted their way, some heads nodded greetings to Jarrod or Nick, but no one spoke to them until they were nearly finished.

Dave Wallace came in with a couple of his cronies and was about to sit down with them, but when he noticed the Barkley brothers he stopped, turned, and crossed ponderously to their table. Eyes followed him. “Afternoon, boys,” he said with joviality that was perhaps a little forced. “What brings you all to town this fine day?”

Jarrod stood up first, the others following. “Afternoon, Mr. Wallace. Gene here is catching the train in – let’s see – twenty minutes. And we want to introduce Heath around. Heath, this is Mr. Dave Wallace.”

Wallace looked Heath up and down. “Howdy, Heath.” He held out his hand.

“Howdy, Mr. Wallace.” They shook.

“Won’t hold you up now, boys, you got to catch the train. ’Spect I’ll see you around town. Nick. Gene.” He rumbled back to his friends, and the Barkleys applied themselves to polishing their plates. A few minutes later they emerged from the hotel and headed for the station; Gene sprinted ahead to pick up his valise from Jarrod’s office, and Nick lagged behind to speak to someone.

“Who’s this Dave Wallace?” inquired Heath.

“Biggest grain merchant in town. Mayor of Stockton, and head of the Stockton Chamber of Commerce besides. He was one of Father’s best friends, and a partner in some of his ventures. His wife is Mother’s friend – one whose opinion she respects. – All things considered, a useful man to have on your side.”

“He on my side?”

“He’s giving you the benefit of the doubt, anyway. Would you expect more?”

“Dunno what to expect.”

“Should I have told you about all the people you’re likely to meet?”

“Just names? I’ll remember ‘em after I meet ‘em, maybe.”

“That’s what I thought.”

After a pause Heath added, “Don’t ‘spect none of ‘em to fall all over me – won’t be s’prised if some won’t have nothin’ to do with me.”

“All we can do is our best. – All I can say to you is, if this doesn’t work, it won’t be my fault for not trying.” That was a rhetorical opening for Heath to say it wouldn’t be his either, but he only looked thoughtful.

Nick caught up to them with his long strides, walking as if the town and everything in it were his to command. He began talking about some plans for an irrigation dam and ditch, as if nothing else mattered; Jarrod paid little attention.

“Heath, my office is in this building, second floor. We’ll stop in later – here’s Gene.”

Gene popped out the door at that moment, carrying the valise Jarrod had brought to town earlier. It was only another three minutes walk to the station, where the train could already be heard hooting in the distance. While Gene was buying his ticket, it came in puffing and clanking to stand at the platform, while men rushed to refill it with coal and water, other men moved mail and baggage, passengers filed off and others climbed on.

Nick again found someone to talk to, while Jarrod and Heath stood in the shade, watching the traffic. “They talk in San Francisco about small towns where the train stopping is the main event of the day,” said Jarrod. “That may not quite be the case in Stockton, but near enough some days.”

“Never know who might get off.”

Gene came hurrying with his ticket, shook hands with both brothers and said in Heath’s ear, “Good luck!” Looking around but not seeing Nick, he shrugged and ran for the train as the conductor called, “All aboard!” He waved from the steps as the train began to move.

“We cut that close,” said Jarrod. “Well, as long as we’re here, you might as well meet whoever’s on duty – you’ll have to do business here sometimes.” He led Heath into the now empty waiting room and rang the bell at the wicket. “Hello, Ted. You in charge? – Want you to meet my brother Heath. Heath, this is Ted Hanson, he’s the daytime telegrapher and keeps the books.”

Hanson, a lanky man with magnificent side whiskers, shook hands through the wicket. “Howdy, Heath. Glad to meet you. Can I get a sample of your signature for my records?” He brought pen and ink, and a small piece of stiff paper. His eyes met Jarrod’s to confirm that this was acceptable.

For what he realized was the first time, Jarrod watched Heath write his name, hesitating a moment before the “Barkley”; his handwriting was unpracticed, but legible enough.

Nick burst in. “Here you are!” he exclaimed unnecessarily. He was followed by the Valley farmers he had been talking to. “Ab, Roger, meet Heath. Ab Stullman, Roger Fries, they’re neighbors of ours.”

Jarrod watched more hands shaken and greetings exchanged, while noting that Nick had not chosen to include the word “brother” in his introductions.

--------------

With the men all gone to town, Victoria and Audra had a light lunch together. “I wonder how it’ll go? Will they have to fight anybody?” Audra speculated.

“Consider Jarrod, and Nick, and Heath beside them. It would be a brave or foolhardy man who’d take them on.”

“Or a mob.”

“Mobs can usually be controlled. Just make it clear that the first one to move gets hurt.”

“That won’t happen, surely – !”

“I don’t think there’s any danger of that today. – So far as most people are concerned, the only ones who could be injured by Heath’s arrival are the Barkleys – if only because there will be a smaller share of the estate for each one of you.”

“So if we don’t mind that, why should they?”

“I can see two reasons people in town might mind. One, some might be jealous – think that Heath walked into a nice heritage. Some might not believe he’s your father’s son, think it was a made-up story and somehow he made us believe it, but they aren’t so easily deceived.”

“Anyone who knew Father must see what we see – mustn’t they?”

“Not necessarily. Nick didn’t see it at first, remember.”

“Nick didn’t want to see it.”

“And others won’t, as well. Besides, it’s been six years, you know how many new people have come to the Valley since, who didn’t know your father at all.”

“That’s true. And so many of them are drifters, people who’ve never had anything of their own – like Heath. Yes, I can see they might be jealous. And choose to think it was a trick.”

“And the other reason, the one that prompts Mrs. Travis and others like her to be against Heath, is the old idea that illegitimate birth is a stain on the child.”

“But it’s not Heath’s fault!”

“Of course not. However, some will hold it against him – you heard what he said the other day, that he’s heard it all before, but we haven’t. I imagine he heard those ugly things said too often, when he was a child and defenseless.”

“It doesn’t seem right – he shouldn’t have had to bear all that – !”

“My dear, I know. It wasn’t right, he didn’t deserve it, it shouldn’t have happened. But it did, and he must carry some scars. They won’t go away just because he’s with us now – they may never go completely. All we can do is try to make it better.”

“By loving him.”

Victoria said nothing for a moment, but Audra saw that she was thinking hard. “If you find it in your heart already to love him as you love Jarrod – I say Jarrod because he’s the brother you know least, of those you’ve always known – that shows what a loving heart you have, darling. Perhaps the rest of us will feel the same in time. But don’t make it more than it is.”

“I don’t say I feel that yet – he’s still almost a stranger. But I feel for him.”

“I think perhaps it’s best to be matter-of-fact about his past, speak of it when it comes up as you might of anyone else’s younger days. I think that will be more comfortable for him – we can’t be always going on about how sorry we are.”

“Yes, I see. One apology is all very well, but an apology every day would be too much, wouldn’t it?” Audra giggled.

Victoria relaxed and enjoyed the rest of her lunch. Afterwards she went upstairs for her “rest”, which continued to be writing difficult letters. She had finished with her in-laws and her own sisters, but there were others, friends of the family, who ought to know before they found out by chance.

The sound of a horse and buggy coming up the drive warned her of visitors.

-------------

From the station the three brothers went to the stockyard and the freight sheds, then the feed store, the hardware, and other places on Main Street. Each place Jarrod made it a point to introduce “my brother Heath” and Nick managed to avoid it. The people they met were variously friendly or reserved towards Heath; none was openly hostile.

Sheriff Lyman, when they came to his office, was bolder. “Jarrod was in the other day, Heath, and he says he’s satisfied who you are, he stands behind you. Nick, you say the same?”

“I do,” said Nick at once. “Leastways, long’s he behaves himself.”

“All right, that’s how the family wants it, I got no call to say different. But just so you know, Heath, I can see you have a lot to gain here, I’ll be payin’ attention to what goes on.”

“You do that, sheriff.”

“You work one time for Frank Sawyer?”

“Yeah.”

“That puts you one up in my book.”

Heath had no answer to that.

They crossed the street to the bank. If the tellers exchanged significant glances, there was nothing in that that anyone could object to. Luther Kirby shook hands, looking keenly into Heath’s eyes; he often boasted that he could tell a crook if he had a chance to look him in the eye. Heath seemed to pass the test.

“To business.” Kirby sat behind his desk and motioned the other men to chairs. “Jarrod, you have the papers we talked about?”

“Here.” Jarrod handed over the document signed by his mother and by Gene and Audra, the night before, authorizing Heath’s access to the ranch account, and another signed by Victoria agreeing to establish an account for Heath out of the trust funds.

Kirby read them over and nodded with satisfaction. “Good enough. Nick, I need your signature here too.”

Nick scanned it quickly and scrawled his signature under Jarrod’s.

“So you’re in full agreement.”

“That’s what my signature means, Mr. Kirby.” Nick took his loftiest tone.

“Very well.” He touched a bell and sent for the head teller, who came to do the actual work of making out the papers and transferring the funds. All three brothers signed their names several times before they were done. Heath did as he was told, but he read everything before he signed it, which Jarrod noted as a good sign.

“Very good,” said the clerk at last. “Mr. Heath, if you want to withdraw from your account, come to me at the teller’s window on your way out.”

“Not today, I reckon,” said Heath.

“At any time, sir.”

Jarrod interpreted Heath’s expression as amusement that the possession of a thousand dollars in one’s account was enough to win such respectful behavior from a bank teller. – But even if it was only amusement, there must have been other experiences, not so pleasant, to compare it with….

Their progress along the street brought them to the haberdashery. “You want to buy some clothes here, Heath?”

“Reckon I better. You two wanna wait around?”

Nick conveniently saw someone across the street he wanted to talk to. Jarrod occupied himself picking out some handkerchiefs and socks, and offering occasional advice while Heath tried on and selected three shirts, three pairs of pants, and assorted other items. Finally he tried on a brown Sunday suit which Nick, coming back, regarded without favor.

“Why don’t you get a decent black suit and be done with it?”

“Black ain’t my favorite color.”

“You need a black suit for funerals anyway.”

“Been at funerals without one.”

“Nick,” said Jarrod. His tone was meant to remind Nick that Heath must not long ago have been chief mourner at his mother’s funeral in his workday clothes, and that this was not the time or the place, with two interested clerks listening, to discuss what the sartorial obligations of a Barkley might be.

Nick looked from one brother to the other. “Have it your way. That’s not my color – nobody’ll get our clothes mixed up, yours and mine.”

“Good,” said Heath. He produced a small roll of bills and paid for the articles he had chosen, which left him with very little.

Jarrod told the clerk, “You can send the parcel around to the livery to hold for me.” To Heath he added as they left, “Any time you want to send something home in the buggy, just send it to the livery for me. Walt or Ezra will make sure I get it. – Nick introduce you to them?”

“Met the boss – Walt?”

“Ezra wasn’t around,” Nick explained. “He’s a young fellow helps Walt, Heath. Friend of Jarrod.”

“He looks after my horse,” Jarrod corrected, sounding stuffy in his own ears.

“Nice job,” remarked Heath. “I done that once.” Noticing Nick’s startled look, he added, “When I was ‘bout ten.”

“Ten!”

Jarrod chuckled to hide his distress. “Ezra’s a bit older than that. Came here from New Hampshire, likely riding the rails, a couple of years ago – I’d say he was about fifteen then.”

Nick, paying no attention to him, ruminated, “Small place, Strawberry.”

“Bigger in them days,” said Heath. “Where to next?”

-------------

Victoria looked in the mirror and tidied her dress before she went out to the top of the stairs. With a sinking heart she saw Silas ushering in Amelia Travis and her friend Rebecca Mason, both in their best visiting hats as if calling on the bereaved.

She would have to face them. Luckily Audra did not seem to be about; the girl’s feelings would be apt to overpower her tact.

She descended the stairs in her best manner, exclaimed what a delightful surprise it was to see them, asked Silas to make tea, and swept them into the living room.. “Take this chair, Amelia, it’s much more comfortable. Rebecca, do take off your jacket, it’s really quite warm today, isn’t it?” The end of her maneuvers was that she sat on a slightly higher chair with her back to the window and facing her visitors. If there were traces of tears or sleeplessness in her face, she need not make them too easy to see.

Amelia Travis seemed a little disconcerted by her welcome, but before Victoria could talk much about the weather she broke in, her voice loud and rather shrill. “Victoria, we’ve heard news about your family that’s hard to believe. If it’s true, you have our deepest sympathies.”

“Jarrod told me he’d spoken to you about it, so you must know it’s true, Amelia. But I needn’t ask for anyone’s sympathy.”

Rebecca Mason, who was notoriously inquisitive, asked in a voice as hushed as her friend’s was loud, “Did you know beforehand, Victoria? Did Tom never tell you?”

“That is a private matter, Rebecca. I don’t choose to discuss it.” Now she had snubbed both of them. Good! She felt a battle would do her good, and these women who did not really matter to her had presented themselves as opponents.

“Victoria, you cannot really plan to treat this boy like one of your own. You can’t expect your friends to treat him that way.”

“Why not, Amelia?”

“Why – who knows what somebody like that might do? Bad blood – bad blood, you know.”

“My husband’s blood!”

“That’s no recommendation, now! I thought better of Tom Barkley. I never thought he was that kind.”

“Such a pity!” Rebecca murmured. “But it’s the other side, Victoria. What kind of mother did this boy have? How was he raised?”

“I don’t yet know all the answers to your questions, Rebecca, even if I would discuss my family’s affairs with you – which I will not. But I prefer asking a different question, what kind of man is Heath? and I will tell you my answer to that. So far, I’ve found him a good man – a little rough at the edges, perhaps, rougher in speech and manners than my own sons, but a good man. I’m prepared to give him a chance to prove himself. Are you? Evidently Amelia is not.”

“I won’t give him a chance to injure my daughters!”

“Perhaps it is you who are injuring your daughters, Amelia.”

“I’m surprised you will let him associate with your precious Audra!”

“Oh, I think it will do Audra good to associate with Heath.”

“Good! Victoria, you are condoning your daughter’s corruption!”

“I don’t think so, Amelia. I think I raised her to know right from wrong, and I don’t believe Heath will lead her astray. But she is a little spoiled, you know, and she needs to learn more about the real world.”

“She will. I have no doubt she will. To begin with, she may learn she is not invited to my Pauline’s birthday dance next week.”

“Oh?” If Amelia was going to be petty, Victoria could be petty in return. “There always seems to be a shortage of gentlemen at such affairs, doesn’t there? And Audra always has so many partners – her absence will leave more for the other girls. – But on the other hand, none of my sons will be there without her.”

“I can’t have Pauline corrupted!”

“Oh, I don’t think you need worry, Amelia. Pauline hasn’t enough spirit to do anything you don’t approve of.”

“I did not come to be insulted! Come, Rebecca, I think we must be going.” Amelia Travis stood up and marched out, followed by her flustered friend. Rebecca had not come to quarrel, but she had looked forward to gloating a little, and found that it did not work.

Silas had been about to bring in the tea. He stood in astonishment as the two visitors let themselves out the front door without waiting for his assistance.

Victoria watched through the window as the women untied the horse they had left tied to the fence, got themselves into the buggy, and drove away. When she turned toward Silas she was grim-faced, but her grimness turned to a rueful laugh at his expression.

“Oh, Silas, I’m afraid I lost my temper!”

“They got no right, comin’ here talkin’ like that.”

“No right – no judgment, anyway. – Is the tea ready? Let’s drink it together in the kitchen, Silas.”

They had finished their tea, and Victoria was going reluctantly back to her letter-writing, when there was another knock on the front door.

-------------

The brothers stopped for introductions at the barber shop Nick patronized, and then came to his favorite saloon. There was a large crowd for a weekday afternoon, many of them probably hoping for free drinks courtesy of the Barkleys, whose progress along the street had been obvious and easy to time.

Jarrod fulfilled expectations. “Drinks for everyone, Harry, to introduce my brother Heath in the right spirit.” He went on, making introductions to those he knew by name, spreading good cheer and fellowship as best he could. Nick supported him, supplying names, pulling more men into the circle. Heath diffidently nursed his own drink while he responded to greetings and watched the goings-on with some cynicism. It occurred to Jarrod to wonder if Heath believed any more in his new-found brothers’ good will than in that of these drinking buddies.

There was a surly-looking man at a table near the back who did not join in. Jarrod did not recognize him, and judged he had drunk enough already that day, but somebody else went to urge him to get his free drink. That was when the man raised his voice above the crowd. “Wha’d’ye think the bastard has on ol’ Tom, to make the high n’ mighty Barkleys own up their pa was a – ?” He did not get the last word out, as his companions backed away and Nick picked him up by the collar.

“Rawson, nobody talks that way about him, you hear?” Then, evidently feeling he needed to be more specific, added, “Not my father, and not my brother Heath!”

“I di’n’t mean nuthin’ by it! Lemme go, Nick!”

“The hell you didn’t!” Nick drew back his fist.

“Leave it, Nick,” drawled Heath coolly. He had not moved. “Not worth payin’ the damages.”

Jarrod, knowing how often Nick did pay for broken furniture and other damages, began to hope things would improve with Heath around.

Nick gave the man Rawson a shake and dropped him hard in the corner. “Anybody else wanna discuss it?” Apparently nobody did, at least not now, not out loud.

Jarrod said for all to hear, “Let’s make it plain, we Barkleys don’t have to explain our decision to anybody, but this is our decision and we mean to stick to it. Heath’s one of us from now on. And if what happened the other day is a sample, we’ll be glad to have him on our side.”

Two or three of the men, who had been at the confrontation with the railroad, were quick to agree. Others, old-timers, remarked how much Heath looked like Tom Barkley.

-------------

Silas scurried past his mistress to open the door. Outside stood the minister of the Community Church, Mr. Tebbett. He was a lean sad-faced man of forty-odd, whose plain appearance concealed a sympathetic heart and considerable worldly wisdom as well as devout faith. Victoria thought well of him and hoped he would stay in his charge for a long time. She did not want to offend him. Nevertheless, she was in no frame of mind to see him just now.

“We’ve just finished tea, Mr. Tebbett, but if you’d like some – “

“No, no, that isn’t necessary. I wondered if I might trespass on a little of your time for a private talk, Mrs. Barkley?”

“Won’t you come into the library? No one will disturb us there.” She knew quite well that Silas would not disturb them in the living room, and there was no one else in the house – where was Audra? – but if he wanted more privacy, he could have it.

He looked around as he seated himself. “I confess to feeling the sin of envy whenever I look at this room.”

“I like it too. But it’s really Jarrod’s room.” She had no patience for such small talk. “I suppose you’ve heard our news?”

“I’m not the first person to hear any gossip, but a rumor did reach me when I returned to town yesterday evening. Knowing how often rumor lies, it seems right to give you an opportunity to correct it – if you don’t object to my repeating what I heard?”

“Please do.”

“I was told – never mind by whom – that a young man claiming to be a natural son of your late husband came to you demanding his rights, and that you and your children have agreed to accept him as one of the family.”

“That’s close enough to the truth.”

“You believe in his claim, then? But perhaps you have reason.”

“My principal reason is a striking resemblance. Of course you didn’t know my husband, so you’ll have to take my word for it – but to me, there was no doubt.”

“Ah. But resemblances can be deceiving sometimes.”

“There are circumstances besides – time and place fit, and what his mother told him before she died.”

“Ah. Mrs. Barkley, do you know any more of this woman – this fallen sister in God – who has injured you so?”

“I know that she must have had it in her power to injure me long ago, and did not. And that she raised a son who seems to me a good and honorable man.”

“Is the young man a good Christian?”

“I gather he hasn’t gone to church much – he may be ignorant of doctrine, or confused about it as so many people are; you may remember we talked about that not long ago. If you preach about real Christianity, and not theological arguments, I think you’ll appeal to him – but maybe I’m only speaking for myself.”

He was briefly silent, and went on in another tone, “Mrs. Barkley, can you find it in your heart to forgive?”

“There is no question of forgiving Heath – he’s not to blame for any part of it. I’ll have to know more about his mother before I can say how I feel about her. – As for my husband – he was very much at fault, whatever happened exactly. I have to – reconsider him, our marriage – it wasn’t as I thought it was.”

“I can understand that that make forgiveness more difficult.”

She made an impatient gesture. “His sin against me, I think I will be able to forgive, in time. He was a good husband to me, apart from that, for twenty-seven years, and he was a good father to my children. – But for his sin against Heath and his mother, it’s not up to me, I think it’s up to Heath to forgive him, and that will be harder. I don’t know that I can forgive him before Heath does.”

“Would you like me to speak to Heath – ?”

“Not now. Not yet. Let us see what we can do. He has no reason to trust us yet, much less you.”

“Very well. – But, Mrs. Barkley, forgiveness of sin isn’t like punishing a crime. Your husband’s sin has affected many people, and each one of you must forgive him – not for his sake, but for your own. Until you purge your own soul of the anger you feel, you cannot be whole again.”

“I understand what you mean, Mr. Tebbett.”

“Would you like me to pray with you?”

Victoria very nearly refused. She did not want to be prayed with, or for, or over, she did not want outsiders interfering in her family’s trouble, she wanted only to be left alone with her pain and confusion. But it would have been ungrateful and impolitic to refuse, so she bowed her head and listened while the minister went on at some length. Not sure she was deceiving Mr. Tebbett, sure she was not deceiving God, she murmured a proper “Amen” and followed it with proper thanks.

Only then did he ask after the rest of the family. He was concerned by Audra’s absence. “You don’t know where she is? Is that usual?”

“Audra is training some horses. Very likely she’s with them.”

“Alone?”

“Oh, some of the men will be close by, if she has any trouble. Ciego’s always around the yard; he keeps an eye out for her.”

“But you ought to know where she is, Mrs. Barkley. It’s a mother’s duty to watch over her daughter.”

Victoria knew what Audra would think of that. She murmured something about being sure she was safe.

“Why don’t I go out to see what she’s doing? It’s not a long walk to your horse corrals.”

“Oh, but the horses aren’t used to strangers, they might get excited. No, better not, Mr. Tebbett. You’ll see her at church on Sunday.” If she were with the horses, Audra would probably be wearing her trousers. Victoria remembered her own rebellious youth too well, and had too much experience raising Barkley children – every one of them determined on having his or her own way – to worry about trousers, so long as they stayed on the ranch, but she knew how they would shock the good minister.

-------------

After one or two more stops the brothers crossed the street and started back the other way. Presently they came to another saloon, this one more often patronized by Jarrod. By now the word had spread even wider and there was another crowd. This time nobody mentioned Tom Barkley, but a man named Ben Wolfe did not lower his voice enough when he muttered something about “the whore’s bastard”. Heath turned on him, and sent him crashing to the floor.

Heath said into the silence, “Say what you like about me. But don’t talk about my mother.”

Civility returned. Ben Wolfe was removed, to recover in his own time. Jarrod revised his estimates.

Among the crowd here was Amos Jennings, a wispy little man in his sixties who had made his fortune in mining years ago and retired to respectability in Stockton. The Barkleys had had differences with him on various issues over the years, and could not be called his friends. Now he looked closely at Heath.

“I hear you’re from Strawberry, young feller.”

“That’s right.”

“Reckon you don’t ‘member me.”

“Can’t say I do. Was you there?”

“Off and on. You was just a little squirt at the time, but I ‘member. I knew your ma.”

Silence fell again. Jarrod paid close attention. Nick fidgeted as if regretting it was not possible to hit a little old man.

“That so?” Heath remained calm.

“Like I said. Oh, I never knew she had nothin’ to do with Tom Barkley. She kept that to herself, I reckon … but what I wanna say is, she was a real nice woman, nice to meet and talk to, and the kindest heart. One feller I knew, he was hurt, broke his back, and she looked after him till he died, when nobody else would, just outa pure kindness.”

“Sounds like her.”

“Doc said not to move him; well, he was hurt up there on the south hill, half a mile from town. Me and another feller, we helped her move his tent up there and rig it over him, and we carried some water and other stuff up, but she was the one that climbed the hill four or five times every day and sat with him all the time she could spare, and held him when he died. And don’t nobody never try to tell me she wasn’t a good woman, that’s all I wanted to say.”

“Thanks,” said Heath. “Sorry, didn’t catch your name.”

“Jennings. Amos Jennings.” They shook hands.

“Maybe I heard you mentioned. Don’t remember for sure.”

“No, you was just a little tad then. She brung you along, up the hill, sometimes, but your legs was too short to climb fast, and you was a bit too big to carry so far. That’s how I knowed who you was, I ‘membered the name. Heath. It ain’t common.”

“No.” Heath looked up and saw Jarrod’s attentive face. “Maybe we can talk some more some other time, Mr. Jennings.” Some time when there were not so many interested listeners.

Jarrod resumed his mask of jocularity, while his mind was busy adjusting to this new development.

-------------

When Mr. Tebbett had gone, Victoria considered going back to her letters, but the idea held even less appeal than before. Besides, after all, she really ought to check on Audra. She put on her hat and went out into the yard.

Ciego came from the stable to meet her. “You wish to drive, Señora?” There was concern in his eyes. It was unusual that she had not been out riding or driving for three days.

“Not today, Ciego, thank you. Have you seen Miss Audra this afternoon?”

“The Señorita, she go to ride in nort’ pasture. You no like, Señora?”

“No, that’s all right, but I’m glad you know where she is. If she isn’t back when her brothers get home from town, perhaps one of them should go to check on her.” Victoria knew Audra was an excellent horsewoman and in little danger of being thrown, much less injured. Still, accidents could happen, and it would not do to leave her out there after dark.

Ciego nodded. “I tell them.” He looked anxious. “Señora, that Señor Heat’ – ”

She waited for him to find words. He had been employed by the Barkleys for over fifteen years, at first as just one of the hands, then as he grew too old and infirm for days in the saddle, looking after the stables, and so in closer touch with the family than the other men. She trusted him accordingly. If he had seen something –

He said, “Señor Barkley, he make a mistake. Good men make mistakes.”

“Yes, Ciego, I know. He made a mistake.”

“Señor Heat’, he not forget.”

“No. In time – in time I hope he’ll forgive, if he doesn’t forget.”

“I watch, Señora,” Ciego promised, and went back to his work.

Victoria walked down to where the colts were corralled, and stood watching them for a while. Remembering how Tom had loved a good horse, and how Nick and Audra had praised Heath’s skill with these colts. It was something they could have shared, if they had known each other. If only – !

There was nothing to be done about that. They would have to go on from where they were, and try to make things whole again – no, they never had been truly whole even when she thought all was well, and they never could be. It was the trying that mattered now.

So many questions. What exactly had happened between Tom and Leah, and why; why he hadn't gone back, why he hadn’t told her, or she hadn’t guessed. What Leah Thomson had wanted, why she had chosen the difficult course she had. Whether Heath would ever be at peace with it, whether he would feel one of her family and whether they would feel him one of them. Whether she could ever think of him without heartache.

All she could do was try.

She walked back toward the house and up to Eugene’s room because it had the best view of the north pasture, and smiled when she saw Audra riding homeward. Out of habit, a glance around the room, putting away some things left untidy in the hurry of packing. She went next into Heath’s room, where there was nothing to tidy, nothing personal in sight. If he had displayed a picture of his mother, she would have been able to search it for some clues to the woman’s character, to what Tom had seen in her – but poor people in remote places could not be expected to spend money on photographs, and few had the skill to make a drawing. There was nothing.

-------------

The brothers resumed their progress up the street, stopping at the hardware and the pharmacy and the general store. Finally they came to Jarrod’s office building and went inside. Heath was introduced to Mr. Trim, and then the brothers were alone.

Jarrod settled into his big leather chair. “That went about as well as it could, I think.”

“Folks’ll think twice before they talk any more dirt about us.” Nick took the other leather chair and put his feet on the desk.

“Where you can hear it,” amended Heath, leaning on the mantlepiece.

Jarrod looked sharply at him. “You mean it’ll go on behind our backs.”

“Bound to. Till they get tired of it.”

“But not necessarily behind your back.”

Heath shrugged. “Small stuff, mostly. A wink here, a whisper there.”

“You’ve been through this before. We haven’t – Nick and I.”

“You gotta draw a line and then stick to it.”

“Speaking of drawing a line, Nicholas, will you kindly take your feet off my desk?”

“What, am I spoilin’ the polish? All right, all right!”

“Then we should all be drawing the same line, shouldn’t we? We weren’t consistent, today. Nick, you and I take offense at insults to Father, which Heath doesn’t care about, or might even agree with. And we’ll object to insults to Heath, as well. On the other hand, Heath, if I understood you correctly, you won’t necessarily fight over what they say about you, but you will over anything against your mother?”

“Goes for you too.”

“Then the only way we can all agree on what to fight over, is to agree that insults to Heath, or Father, or Heath’s mother, are all reasons for any of us to fight. Nick?”

“Fine with me.”

“Yes, of course, when did you ever turn down a reason to fight? – Heath?”

Heath shrugged again. “I will if you will.”

“Mr. Jennings’ story today – I couldn’t have devised better if I’d arranged it myself. All the more, because he’s never been a friend of ours. – It wasn’t a surprise to you?”

“Him, today, that was – I mean, I didn’t know that’d happen today. But sooner or later, somebody that knew her was gonna come in your way, and tell a story somethin’ like that.”

“And if somebody who actually knew her has a story to tell, you’ll take a chance on hearing it in public.”

“I knew her.”

“Good. Because we don’t, yet – don’t know enough about her to judge that. – As you don’t know enough about our father. We’ll have to take each other’s word for it.”

Heath repeated, “I will if you will.”

“It might be harder for you. You came with – preconceptions, about Father.” When Heath only grunted in reply, he went on, “You’ll have to take our word for it, that – whatever wrong he did to your mother and you – it wasn’t like him. That he was, in general, a man who kept his promises and fulfilled his obligations, that he was not by nature a cheat or a liar.”

Nick growled, “We don’t know what happened, but I don’t believe he was much to blame – he couldn’t’ve known about you.”

“Think what you like.”

“And,” Jarrod continued, “we will take your word for it that your mother was a good and – Mother said it the other night – an honorable woman. I assure you I haven’t said anything in town that could make anyone think different. – Above all, that she was never a whore.”

“She wasn’t.”

“That you know of.” He watched closely for a reaction, but Heath seemed to see his intention.

“I know.”

“I believe you.” Whether he did or not, Jarrod would not inquire any more.

Nick rose abruptly and walked the length of the room and back. He still had difficulty accepting his father’s sin, and to him, the smaller sin would have been to sleep with a whore and then forget about it. But Heath would not accept that version. He sat down again. “Yeah, I believe you too.”

“All right. I believe you – as far as it goes.”

Jarrod stood up. “We didn’t shake hands on our agreement, the other day. I think we ought to shake on this one.” And after that, a drink to celebrate.

Nick raised his glass. “Barkleys stand together!”

“Barkleys stand together,” Heath repeated wonderingly. “Never had nobody to stand with me that way – kinda nice feelin’. If’n it’s true.”

“There’s a story behind us sayin’ that. Happened when Jarrod was a boy, younger’n Gene is now. He wanted to go to college, Father wanted him to stay on the ranch. Well, they’d been pullin’ different ways for a while, but Jarrod always gave in when Father put his foot down – but this time, he didn’t. Came down to a shoutin’ match in the living room – and I should tell you, I take after Father in the shoutin’ line if nothin’ else. I tell you, I was scared – wasn’t used to hearin’ anybody talk back to Father and get away with it – I was just a kid, ‘bout thirteen maybe – I was scared of what he might do to Jarrod. I was tryin’ to get Jarrod to back down. Mother, she just sat and listened and didn’t say a word. – Say, Jarrod, did she put you up to it?”

“She’d told me I was old enough to fight my own battles.”

“But she would’ve weighed in on your side if she thought she had to – only I didn’t think of that then. Or maybe I thought he’d do the same to her – who knows what silly ideas kids get? He never would’ve – one word from her and he’d pull himself up. – But what happened, he pulled himself up of his own accord.”

“About the time I said I’d work my own way through college waiting on tables if I had to.”

“That would’ve been somethin’ to see! You, waitin’ on tables?”

“Plenty of men do, and good ones.” Jarrod wondered, but did not ask, if Heath had ever waited on tables.

“Ha! – Anyway, it was like Father suddenly remembered somethin’. He stopped shoutin’ and said real quiet, “Jarrod, you’re a man now, you gotta decide for yourself, and whatever you decide, I’ll stand behind you. Barkleys stand together.” It got to be a family rule. When I was old enough to have my own ideas, Father said it again, and Jarrod and I treat Gene the same.”

“You haven’t had that experience,” said Jarrod, “but we hope you’ll stand with us. As we mean to stand with you.”

“Hope it works out that way.”

-------------

By the time Audra came in, flushed, perspiring, and dirty, Victoria was sitting composedly downstairs with a book. The girl called a greeting and ran up the stairs, to reappear some time later as fresh and demure as if she had never seen a horse.

“Well, Mother, did you have a good day? Who were your callers?”

“Oh, you saw them? Both?”

“I saw two ladies drive up, just as I was getting saddled, and sneaked away so they wouldn’t see me. Was that mean?”

“It was just as well. Mrs. Travis and Mrs. Mason. They – well, I lost my temper at some of the things they said, and I’m sure you would have too. I don’t think they’ll be back soon.”

“You lost your temper? Oh, Mother, I wish I’d been a fly on the wall! Did you tell them what you thought of them?”

“A little too much, I’m afraid. – And then Mr. Tebbett came, and preached forgiveness, and prayed for us. I didn’t lose my temper with him, but I was wickedly tempted.”

“Oh, Mother, you like Mr. Tebbett! – At least I thought you did?”

“I do. But I don’t want him interfering in our private affairs.”

“I suppose he thinks it’s his duty. – But he shouldn’t have come just after Mrs. Travis and Mrs. Mason, of course. Did he know they’d been here? Or were they here at the same time?”

“No, thank goodness! I don’t know – if he came straight from town, they must have met on the road, but he might have been somewhere else first. I didn’t mention them, anyway, and neither did he. – Did you have a pleasant ride?”

“I have to tell Nick, there’s a dead calf out on the ridge. Wolves, maybe.”

“Oh, dear.” But that was a problem Nick could deal with. “Audra, I’d better tell you, Mrs. Travis hinted you won’t be invited to Pauline’s birthday party.”

“As if I care! Pauline and her friends are so – ! – So she was angry enough to try to get back at us the only way she could think of.”

“She called it something else, of course. She has to protect Pauline.”

“From me? Oh, from Heath, I suppose! That’s so unfair! – Not that Heath would be interested in Pauline, but it’s unfair just the same! – It’s a good thing it’s not Meg she says she has to protect, because Meg would have something to say – but Pauline always does just as she’s told.” That diverted her thoughts. “Mother, did you know that Jarrod likes Meg?”

“Oh, I had some idea of it. You think I did him an ill turn by quarrelling with her mother, and you may be right. But Meg’s not the woman for Jarrod if she obeys her mother meekly over this, no matter what I say or do.”

“Meg’s over twenty-one. She can marry without her parents’ consent.”

“If she makes up her mind to it, yes. – I don’t know just how far it has gone between her and Jarrod, however.”

“Is that one of the things you wouldn’t ask him?”

“Probably. A man of thirty-two doesn’t want his old mother interfering in his affairs – if I did, he might choose to live all the time in San Francisco.”

“How old will I have to be before you don’t think you should interfere in my affairs? If I don’t marry, I mean.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Considerably older than you are yet.”

“I’ll be twenty-one in just over two years.”

“We’ll see when that time comes.”

“How much sense I have, you mean. I have more sense than you think, Mother.”

“Convince me by showing it.” This conversation was beginning to run in a well-worn track. To Victoria’s relief, the sound of another arrival put an end to it.

Audra ran to look out the back window and confirm it was her brothers returning from town. “At least they survived,” she observed. “No obvious injuries.”

-------------

Jarrod, having turned over his horse to Ciego, was the first to come in. He set down a parcel on the table in the foyer and came over to his mother. “That’s over, and went well enough, I think.” He bent to kiss her cheek. “Did you have a pleasant day?”

“Not very. I’ll tell you later.”

Audra felt the parcel. “Are these Heath’s new clothes? What did he get?”

“Suppose you ask him.”

“Tell me now if there’s anything I need to know before they come in,” Victoria commanded.

“In short, there were some nasty remarks – about Father one place, and Nick threw the fellow in the corner; about Heath’s mother another place, and Heath knocked him flat. We agreed afterwards that we’ll all take offence at the same things.”

“So you and Nick are pledged to defend her honor, and Heath to defend your father’s? I see.”

“There’s another thing,” he added. “We met someone who knew Leah Thomson, and spoke well of her. Amos Jennings, if you please.”

“Amos Jennings!” exclaimed Audra. “Is that the little man who was so difficult about the Bradfords’ party? I thought he was mean. – What did he know about her?”

“He was in Strawberry when Heath was a small boy – too small to remember him, but he recognized Heath by the unusual name. Seems a friend of his was hurt, broke his back and had to be cared for up on the hill where it happened, until he died – I don’t know how long. Mr. Jennings gave her full credit for looking after the man, being with him all she could, just out of kindness. – It’s all the better he’s not a friend of ours; nobody will think we put him up to it.”

“So she was the kind of woman who, in the midst of her own troubles, would go out of her way to help a stranger for no reward. I think you may defend her honor with a clear conscience, Jarrod.”

“It’s good to have independent testimony to her character. Mr. Jennings couldn’t tell us anything about her association with Father, however. Said he never heard about it.”

That was some satisfaction too – that the secret Tom had kept from her had not been common knowledge in Strawberry.

Nick and Heath came in, acting more like brothers than they had in the morning, Heath looking a little more comfortable in his skin. “Here we are!” Nick announced unnecessarily, and kissed his mother’s cheek. Heath nodded in her direction, and went to stand by the empty fireplace.

“Jarrod says your day went well.”

“We covered the ground, anyway. My feet hurt from so much walkin’.”

Audra broke in to tell him about her discovery of a dead calf in the pasture, which sent him back outside to send a couple of men to investigate. Heath picked up the parcel and headed upstairs, followed by Jarrod.

“That’s interesting, Mother – that about her.”

“Yes.”

Seeing her mother did not want to say more, Audra wandered to the piano and sat down to practice a new song she was learning. She was still at it when Jarrod and Heath came downstairs again.

“I respect your persistence, little sister, but hasn’t grandfather’s clock struck enough times for the present?”

She put the music away. “I wish I could play better.”

“Sounded right purty to me,” said Heath.

“And you look quite handsome, in your new clothes.” Apart from their newness, his new clothes were very much like his old ones, but at least he no longer looked shabby. “Remember to give me that old blue shirt for a pattern – oh, it’ll have to be washed first, won’t it? Next week I’ll get at it.”

“You run that sewin’ machine I seen upstairs?”

“Indeed I do. I’ll sew your shirts together lickity-split, just you wait and see.”

“Will you show me how it works, sometime?”

“Are you going to learn to sew?”

“Never know when it might come in handy.” He eyed the piano as if he would like to know its secrets too, but he did not ask for them.

“Well, first, before I can sew them on the machine, I have to cut them out from the material and baste the pieces together. And after that there are the buttons and buttonholes to do, so it’ll take a while altogether. I might have six done by a week from today.”

“You got the material?”

“I haven’t been to town, but there’s some on hand that I think will do – I’ll show you if you like. Not now, it’s getting too dark. I’ll show you the routine for lighting the lamps instead….”

Victoria smiled to herself. As far as she knew, Audra had so far done nothing whatsoever about the shirts, not even checking what material was on hand. She might be making a quick trip to town in the morning to cover her carelessness. She would learn.

Nick was heard going noisily up the back stairs, and by the time all the lamps were lit he came down the front with a layer of dust removed. “No, no, had enough in town,” he waved away Jarrod’s offer, and they went in to dinner.

While Jarrod carved the roast Victoria asked, “Did you see anyone in town you didn’t expect?” Under the table, she signaled Audra to be silent.

Nick took his eyes from the steaming meat to answer. “Remember that old Amos Jennings? He was there. – He surprised us. Said he used to live in Strawberry, and he knew Heath’s mother.”

“Oh, I didn’t know he’d ever been there.”

“What he said was, she was a nice woman, and she looked after a fella who was dyin’.”

“Did you know him, Heath?”

“Don’t remember. Reckon I was just a little fellow then.”

“Your mother must have had her hands full.”

“Yeah.”

Jarrod served the meat, understanding that what he had told her in confidence was now in the open. “I’m glad Mr. Jennings told his story. Both for its effect in town – it’s sure to get around – and for ourselves. With the best will in the world, Heath, we can’t help wondering about your mother. You’ve told us a little, but you speak as her son. It helps us when we hear something like that from a third person – sheds more light in our darkness.”

“Don’t help us with how Father got mixed up with her – I mean, how they got mixed up together.”

“Not this time, Nick, but we may hear other bits, in time, that may help even there.”

“Maybe we should go to Strawberry, ask around.”

Heath said, “Strawberry’s dead. Nothin’ there any more.”

Jarrod kicked Nick under the table to stop him from pursuing the subject. Heath would talk when he was ready and not before – if he had anything to say. Until then, whatever or whoever was in Strawberry would have to wait.

Victoria said, “We don’t need to know that, to welcome Heath.” A time might come when she needed to know more for other reasons, but not yet. She had pushed her own feelings into the background in order to deal with the immediate need, as she had so often done before.

Over dessert she told them of her callers, without repeating exactly what had been said. “Mrs. Travis won’t welcome you, Heath. She’s very suspicious.”

“That sounds just like Mrs. Travis,” said Jarrod. “Once she gets an idea into her head, it’s all but impossible to get it out again, and of course she has to tell everybody. But I thought Mrs. Mason had more sense.”

“Oh, I think she was mostly curious to see how I would behave. She probably offered to bring Amelia out to speak her piece. At least, they were driving Masons’ buggy.”

“And that,” Audra exclaimed, “is just like her. She loves to gloat.”

Nick asked, “Mr. Tebbett say anything you didn’t like?”

“He talked about Christian forgiveness.”

“Who does he – ? I mean, what the – ?” He was unable to find a satisfactory ending for his question. They ate silently for a few minutes, each reflecting on forgiveness, or not, in his or her own way.

Audra broke the silence at last. “Mother didn’t tell you what she told me. May I, Mother? – She lost her temper with the ladies, and said things back, but she was only tempted to do the same with Mr. Tebbett.”

That made both Nick and Jarrod laugh. Heath looked doubtful. “Don’t wanna put you out with your neighbors.”

“Family comes before neighbors,” declared Audra.

“Anybody comes findin’ fault with us in our own house, deserves what they get,” Nick asserted.

“So far, no one we care much for has done so. Let’s hope they don’t,” cautioned Jarrod. “Heath, when Mother loses her temper, she’s a dangerous woman.”

“And afterwards she is generally ashamed of herself,” said Victoria crisply. “Which is more than she can always say of her children.”

No one ventured to comment on that. Years ago, she might have gone on to wonder aloud how she had failed in bringing them up, but she had learned how little good that did – and now Heath’s presence made it impossible.

Silas brought in raisin pudding for dessert, and Nick began talking about wolves in the pasture.

Later Nick asked Heath to play checkers. “You know the game, don’t you?”

“Played a few times.”

It was a common recreation in bunkhouses everywhere, as Nick knew very well. He was also coming to know Heath’s habit of understating his abilities, so he was not very surprised when Heath beat him two games out of three.

Jarrod looked up from his book. “Ever play chess, Heath?”

“A few times.”

“Care for a game?”

Heath hesitated for a moment. “Kinda thought I’d go to bed. Maybe some other time.”

“All right. You’re an early riser, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Goodnight, then, Heath,” said Victoria.

When he had gone, Nick lowered his voice. “Wonder if he can beat you, lawyer.”

“We’ll find out someday. I don’t claim to be a chess master.”

“Have to have that game of poker someday too.”

“What game of poker?” Victoria inquired.

“Nick was saying the other night, playing poker with a man is a good way to know him better. I said I’d like to join in. But we haven’t had a chance to try, yet.”

“I see.”

“Can I play too?” asked Audra.

“You? No!” Nick was shocked by the suggestion.

“Why not?”

“Ladies don’t play poker.”

“I’ve played lots of times, with Gene, when we were younger.”

“That’s not the same thing at all!”

“I can’t go and play in town, I know that, but where’s the harm in playing with my brothers?”

Victoria said, “A lady doesn’t push herself in where she isn’t wanted, Audra. I think you aren’t wanted in the game Nick and Jarrod have in mind.”

“Oh – ! – Then Mrs. Travis and Mrs. Mason didn’t behave like ladies today, did they?”

“I would have to agree with you there.”

Jarrod said, “Play your own games with Heath, little sister.” It occurred to him as soon as he had spoken that his words had a double meaning, but he did not try to correct them. With any luck she wouldn’t notice or understand.

“Will you let Gene into your game?”

“Maybe. If he’s here when we get a chance.”

“Gene don’t play poker like a man,” Nick protested.

“Then it’s time he learned. Who should teach him, if not his brothers?”

“It’s not fair!” declared Audra huffily. She sat down at the piano and began to practice her newest piece, with so many annoying mistakes and repetitions that her brothers soon adjourned to the garden.

“That’s enough music for now, dear,” said Victoria, and the jangling stopped.

Continued…