Doing the Right Thing, Part 2

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.

 

 

 

 

They had not finished their tea when a newcomer came around the corner of the house and stopped in surprise.  A tall, squarely built woman of perhaps forty, in a worn brown pinafore, who said, “Leah?”

 

“Oh!” Leah stood up hurriedly.  “What time is it?”

 

“Near four.  No matter, you got company, you can come another day.”

 

“I’ll have to.  Rachel, these folks are Mr. n’ Mrs. Tom Barkley, from down at Stockton.”  Rachel started, and looked hard at both of them while Leah went on, “This is my good frien’ Rachel Caulfield.  I was s’posed to help her with some sewin’ today, n’ it went clean out o’ my head.”

 

“How do you do,” said Victoria.  Tom stood up and offered his chair, which Rachel took without hesitation.  Tom sat down on the step beside Heath, who turned around to look up at his mother’s friend.

 

“Auntie Rachel,” he said, “this here’s my pa.”

 

Rachel looked from the boy to Leah to Tom.  “Is that so?”

 

Tom answered, turning to look up at her, “That’s so.”

 

“Hm!  I reckon I can see a likeness, when I look at you n’ him together.”  Her tone was not friendly.

 

“So can I,” said Victoria.

 

“What’s your aim in this, Mrs. Barkley?”

 

“My aim is that we should all understand one another as well as we can.”

 

“Hm!  My aim – oh, yes, I’m gonna have my say, Leah, don’t try to shush me up – my aim is to protect Leah, ‘cause she won’t try to protect herself.”

 

“Please believe me, Mrs. Caulfield – is that right? – we don’t mean Leah any harm.”

 

“Hmph!”  Rachel’s snort expressed disbelief.

 

Tom stood up again.  “Mrs. Caulfield, I admit I’ve done harm to Leah in the past –even if she don’t see it that way – and I’m here now to do what I can to set it right.”

 

“Seems to me you got a problem,” Rachel replied sarcastically, glancing at Victoria.

 

“I can’t – ” he looked at Heath – “I can’t be in two places at once.  I’ve made it so there’s two places I oughta be.  That’s my problem.”

 

“But the way it works out, it’s Leah’s problem.”

 

“Now, Rachel!”  Leah put a hand on her friend’s shoulder.  “You know I’m thankful for all your carin’.  But it’s my life, n’ I gotta do it my way.  If I can’t have everythin’ I might like, I jus’ gotta make the best o’ what I have.”

 

Rachel looked up, and shook her head.  “I know you, dearie.  You give, and give, and never take – you gotta think sometimes about what’s comin’ tomorrow.”

 

Tom said, “We’re gonna talk about that before we leave.”

 

Leah bit her lip.  “Tom, I’m only gonna ask one thing from you.  If anythin’ happens to me, will you look after him?”

 

“I will.  I promise you that.”

 

“And so do I,” said Victoria.  “He’ll be welcome in my home, if he ever has to come.”

 

Leah smiled at her.  “That’s a weight off o’ my mind.  Thank you, Victoria.”  She did not seem to think it necessary to thank Tom.

 

“That’s a start,” said Rachel.  “There’s more.”

 

“We have time.  We’re not headin’ home ‘til Monday, so we have tomorrow and Sunday.”

 

Rachel considered.  “Mr. Barkley, why don’t you and Heath go for a walk?  We women got things to talk about.”

 

Heath jumped up eagerly.  Tom looked at his wife to see if she wanted to be left here alone.  

 

Victoria nodded.  “I think that’s a good idea.  If you’ll come back in half an hour or so, before Leah has to go back to work?”

 

“I will. – Want me to take Eugene too?”  Their son had wakened from his nap and was beginning to squirm.

 

“No, he’ll be all right here.  Go on – it’s what you’ve been wanting all afternoon.”

 

He grinned.  “It is, at that.  Heath, why don’t you show me what’s up that way?”  The man and the boy headed along the road, and Heath evidently began talking.

 

Victoria said, “Before we start, ladies, is there an outhouse at the back?”  Rachel laughed.  Leah, a little flustered, gave directions and offered to hold Eugene in her absence.  At the back of the house, besides the outhouse and the washtubs, there was a chicken coop and a vegetable garden where Hannah was busy hoeing.  She looked at Victoria suspiciously, but said nothing.

 

As she came back around the house, she heard Rachel’s voice.  “She may be all o’ that, but she’s married to the man you want.  How can she be your friend?”

 

“Ssh!”

 

Victoria stepped up into the porch and returned to the rocker, leaving Eugene on Leah’s lap.  “Mrs. Caulfield, you believe in speaking bluntly, don’t you?  So do I, when the occasion calls for it.”  She looked at Leah.  “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to listen to this; I’ll only say it once.  Yes, I’m married to Tom Barkley, and I intend to stay that way.  We’ve worked and struggled and loved each other for fourteen years, together, and nothing that happened between you and him five or six years ago weighs against that.  Not with me, and I believe not with him either.”

 

“I know,” said Leah humbly.  “I never thought to come atween you n’ him.”

 

“He was to blame.  He should have told you he had a wife and children.”

 

“Some folks’d say, I shoulda asked.”

 

“Perhaps you were both to blame.  If I can forgive his fault, I can forgive yours.  And I would still hope to be your friend, so far as I can. – What matters now is the children.”

 

“Childern?” queried Rachel.  “What childern, ‘sides Heath?  Not that one.”  She indicated Eugene, who had scrambled to the ground and was investigating the picket fence.

 

“This will make a difference to my children too.  Heath is their brother; they will have to know.  To know him, as they get older.  And more:  we spoke of what we would do if something happens to Leah.  But it’s just as likely something might happen to me – though not if I can help it, you may be sure.  In that case, Tom might want to make things right for Heath.”

 

“Oh,” said Leah faintly.  “Victoria, you’re a real lady, like I was tellin’ Rachel.  I couldn’ step into your shoes – I ain’t educated like you.”

 

“You have a good heart and courage, that’s more important.  Yes, there’d be difficulties.  I’m only saying, if it turned out that way, I believe you would be a good mother to my children.”

 

“I’d try the bes’ I could, o’ course.”

 

“As I would for Heath. – I should say, that’s not something I’ve discussed with Tom, and I don’t plan to.  But just in case.”

 

Rachel said, “Makin’ plans for when you’re dead is fine, but what about while you’re both livin’?  Now’s when Leah should have some help from Mr. Barkley.”

 

“Rachel, I don’ need help.  I’m doin’ all right.”

 

“Cookin’ seven days a week in that hot kitchen, for a dollar a day and your meals! and that Martha Simmons won’ even let Heath set foot in the place, ‘cause he broke a dish once!”

 

“More’n one dish.  N’ I can work faster when he ain’t under foot.”

 

“Now you’re stickin’ up for that whore!”

 

“Martha don’ do that no more, not since she married Matt.”

 

“How d’you know she don’t?  Would Matt know?”

 

Leah stood up.  “I gotta see ‘bout my bread.”  She went into the house.

 

Rachel turned to Victoria.  “There’s lots she won’t tell you, Mrs. Barkley, that you’d wanna know.”

 

“I appreciate your plain speaking, Mrs. Caulfield.”

 

“She’s a good woman, Leah is.  Best friend I got in this town.”

 

“You seem to be a good friend to her, as well.”

 

“You’re bein’ real decent about all this, Mrs. Barkley.  Lotsa women’d have it in for anybody that done what she done with their men.”

 

“I’ve had time to think.”

 

“How long you known about her?”

 

“About two weeks.  Tom only found out about Heath a week or so before that.”

 

“Mm.”

 

“How long have you known Leah, Mrs. Caulfield?”

 

“Since a li’l while afore Heath was born.  I come here with my husband, in the fall of  ’51 – he went lookin’ for gold, n’ I did sewin’ for the miners.  And I done some midwifin’ back in Ohio, so that’s how I got to know her.  I brung that boy into the world.  Then when my man died, Leah was real good to me.”

 

“I see.”

 

“I got a boy too, Billy.  He’s near growed up now.  Pretty soon he won’t want to live with me no more; maybe I’ll sell my place n’ move in here.  And we can help each other out.”

 

“Then there’s Hannah.”

 

“Hannah’s a real hard worker; she’d do anythin’ for Leah or Heath.  Her and me, we get along fine.  But she don’t – she don’t always understan’ things too good.”

 

“I see.”  Victoria also saw Tom and Heath coming back along the road, apparently on good terms.  As they reached the gate, Tom was chuckling over something.

 

“You’re a smart boy, son.  You just keep that up.”  Then, soberly, “Mrs. Caulfield.  You’ve been a good friend to them.  I thank you for that.”

 

“I didn’t do it for your benefit, Mr. Barkley.”

 

“I’m not fool enough to think you did, ma’am.”

 

“No, sir, I don’t think you’re a fool at all.”

 

Leah emerged from the house carrying a cotton bag that contained several loaves of hot fragrant bread.  “I gotta get back to work,” she said apologetically.

 

“We’ll walk back with you,” said Victoria, getting to her feet.  “May we come here again tomorrow afternoon?”

 

“Please do.”

 

“Goodbye, Mrs. Caulfield.  It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”

 

Rachel nodded.  “Pleasure. – Reckon I better get back to my own work.”  She departed, reluctantly.

 

“Leah, you bake for the hotel as well?”

 

“Rather do it here ‘n over there. – Heath, honey, you get out back now n’ feed the hens for Hannah.”

 

“Can’t I stay with my pa?”

 

“You’ll see him again tomorrow.  Get, now.”  Heath obediently ran around the corner.  Leah looked at the clothesline.  “Diapers’re still damp.  You got enough to do till tomorrow?”

 

“Oh, yes, I think so.”

 

“You bring ‘em when you come, n’ Hannah’ll wash ‘em.”

 

Tom picked up Eugene and they walked back to the hotel.  On the way Leah said worriedly, “Heath gets to like you, he won’ wanna see you go away.”

 

“You ever think about leavin’ here, movin’ down to the Valley?”

 

“I like it here.  Like the mountains.  N’ I got friends.”

 

“I can’t come up here often; takes too long.”

 

“I know.  Never figured you’d come at all.”

 

“And you’d rather I hadn’t.”

 

“He’s mine.  I don’ want you takin’ him away from me.”

 

“I don’t mean to.  I know he’s yours.  But he’s mine too, and I wanna see him sometimes.” 

 

“We can talk about that tomorrow,” said Victoria.

 

“Victoria, ‘d you rather I asked Rachel not to come aroun’ tomorrow?”

 

“That’s up to you.  I like her downright manner.”

 

“She don’t like me much,” said Tom ruefully, “but I reckon she’s all right.”

 


 - - - - - - - - -

 

Leah let the Barkleys through to the front of the hotel, and they went upstairs past Martha, busy at the desk with another customer, but noticing them.  Once she had attended to Eugene, Victoria lay down on the bed again.  “Tired?” Tom asked, concerned for her.

 

“Still tired from yesterday.”

 

“Today didn’t go so bad.”

 

“Better than I expected.”

 

“Sleep if you want.  I’ll try and keep him quiet.”  He was actually successful for some time.

 

 

 

“So you took your visitors home with you,” said Martha.

 

“You mighta tol’ me.”  Leah looked at her reproachfully over the potatoes.  “You knew who they was.”

 

“Figured I wouldn’t get you upset beforehand.  Surprised?”

 

“You coulda knocked me down with a feather.”

 

“So what did they want?”

 

“That ain’t no business o’ yourn, Martha.  You stay out of it.”

 

 

 

Eugene laughed out loud and roused Victoria from her brief doze.  She lay watching them.

 

“Heath has your eyes too.”  As Eugene and Jarrod had.

 

“Did you have doubts?”

 

“If I did, I don’t now. – Did he tell you anything you want me to know?”

 

“Nothin’ much.  Showed me the spring where they get their water, and some places he plays. – He’s a good boy.  Smart, too.”

 

“I’m sure he is.” 

 

“You should get to know him.”

 

“No. – I may not see him again for a long time.  You’ll be back, if all goes well, but I won’t.  He doesn’t need to know me – and he may not be very clear who I am.  Or do you think he understands the situation?”

 

“He’s too young!”

 

“That’s what I thought.  Unless someone very carefully explained it to him.  I doubt Leah is in a hurry to do that.”

 

“You think it’s my job?”

 

“That’s for you to judge.”

 

He chewed on the idea.  “I couldn’t do it without Leah’s permission.”

 

“No.  Unless he asked.”

 

“Even then.  I hurt that woman enough; I don’t wanna hurt her any more. – But if he don’t hear it from us, he’s apt to hear it around town, and that’s worse.”

 

Victoria said no more.  When the bell rang to announce supper, they went down to the dining room and ate more of Leah’s cooking.  Matt Simmons did not speak to them particularly, and Martha stayed out of sight.  Upstairs again, Tom announced his intention of seeing Leah safely home when she finished work; his tone was almost defiant, as if he expected Victoria to object.

 

“That’s a good idea,” she said calmly.  “I suppose you and she have things to say to each other that you don’t want me to hear.”

 

“I don’t have anything to tell her you can’t hear – but maybe she does.”

 

“If she has, I don’t want to hear it from you.”

 

“You won’t,” he promised, and added, “If she’ll let me go with her at all.”

 

Later, Victoria turned down the lamp and watched at the darkened window while Tom stood below, waiting for Leah to emerge.  Finally she did, carrying a bundle that might be more laundry.  Tom touched his hat politely.  “May I walk home with you?”

 

“Better not,” said Leah.

 

“May I walk part of the way home with you?”

 

“Well – jus’ to the corner down there.”

 

Victoria could not hear any more, but before they went out of sight she saw that Tom was carrying the bundle.

 

 

 

“So is that the way it goes?  Hannah does the hotel laundry, and you carry it back and forth?”

 

“Mos’ly.”

 

“You work hard.”

 

“No more’n I can stand.”

 

“What can I do to help you, Leah?”

 

“I’m fine.  I don’ need any help from you.”

 

“I’d feel better if you’d take somethin’.”

 

“Would you?”  She was scornful.

 

“And, it’s not right Heath should go without anythin’ he needs.”

 

“He has all he needs.”

 

“What if you got sick and couldn’t work?  Or if he needed a doctor?  Lots o’ things could happen.  You should have somethin’ put away.”

 

“I’ve got somethin’.”

 

He said no more, thinking that he was only making her more stubborn.  He would ask Victoria to press her, tomorrow.  Try to persuade her to take a hundred dollars to keep for emergencies, if nothing else.  It might come better from Victoria.

 

At the designated corner she took the bundle back into her own arms, still careful not to touch him, and told him to come no further.  He stood and watched her walk away into the night, a brave and lonely figure with her awkward burden.  When she went out of sight he followed, until he saw her go into her house.  As she passed in front of the lamp burning inside, her shadow was thrown on the window curtain.  Tom thought of creeping close to look inside, and hastily turned back toward the hotel to get away from the temptation.

 


 - - - - - - - - -

 

Leah set down the bundle of laundry and crossed to the stove where Hannah was putting the kettle on.  “Heath in bed?”

 

“That he be, honey.  Now sit youself down n’ have a cup o’ tea.”

 

“I oughta – ”  She broke off.  She was in Hannah’s arms.  “Oh, Hannah, dear!”

 

“There, there, honey chile, you go on n’ cry.  Hannah here.”

 

They held on to each other for a little, and then Leah detached herself and made the tea. 

 

They sat at the table together.  The house, so hot during the day, was pleasantly warm now as the spring evening grew cool.  Leah sighed.  “Feel like I been on tiptoes all day.”

 

“That man, what he want?”

 

“Wanted to know ‘bout Heath.  He heard somethin’, I dunno what.  Wants to come see him again. – Wants to give me money, I think.”

 

“You take money from him?”

 

“Don’ wanna.  Don’ wan’ anybody should think he bought me.  Might have to, though.”

 

“He take Heath away?”

 

“No – don’ think so.  She says not.  She’s mad at him – says he treated me bad.”

 

“So he did.  So he did.”

 

“I dunno what to do.  Gotta hold myself together, somehow.”

 

“Honey, you still love him?”

 

“I dunno.  Too much happened.  I dunno what I feel.  No use lovin’ him, I know that.”

 

“You jus’ do what you gotta do, honey chile.  I be there with you.”

 

“Hannah, where’d I be without you?  You been my rock.”

 

 

 

Victoria had been in bed for over an hour, with Eugene sleeping at her side, when Tom came in.  She knew at once from the way he moved that he had had a few drinks, as she had anticipated when he did not return immediately.   She had not supposed he had been with Leah – she felt certain that Leah would not permit him to stay with her even if he wanted to.  To have gone looking for him, even if practical, would have been quite the wrong gesture.  But she had worried, all the same.  When he slipped in on the other side of Eugene she whispered, “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

“Couldn’t you sleep?”

 

“In a strange bed in a strange town, not knowing where you were?  No, I couldn’t sleep. – You were attacked here, once before.”

 

“With gold dust in my pocket.  Don’t have any now.”  Then, as if feeling his answer inadequate, “Sorry I’m late.  Stopped at the saloon down the street, the Golden Horseshoe.”

 

“Not downstairs?”

 

“No! – Thought I might hear somethin’ in the saloon, but I didn’t.”

 

“Something about – ?”

 

“I’m still wonderin’ where Frank McGarrett heard what he heard.”

 

“Did you ask Leah about it?”

 

“No.  Maybe tomorrow.”

 

“Did the men in the saloon know who you are?”

 

“One or two, I’ve seen before.  Dunno if my name was mentioned.”

 

“Then you weren’t likely to hear anything, were you?”

 

He thought that over, and unexpectedly chuckled.  “Heath, this afternoon, told two or three folks we met that I’m his pa.  That might get around.”

 

Victoria wondered if Leah had foreseen that, or if she would mind.  They had not talked about what the neighbors  would think ….   “You’re pleased with Heath,” she said.

 

Tom took his time again.  “This is a – a bad business, an awkward business, and I’m sorry about it for your sake and Leah’s.   But when I think of that boy – it seems worth it.”

 

“Leah would agree with you.”

 

“She’s got him.  I wish – ”  He did not say what he wished.  Presently she knew he was asleep.

 

 

 

Strawberry -- Saturday

 

In the morning Mrs. Simmons showed her to the bathroom, where the boot-shaped tub had been filled three inches deep with hot water.  “Two other guests want it after you,” the woman said, “so don’t be too long. Mrs. Barkley.  A quarter of an hour should be enough.”

 

It was not a luxurious soak, but she had hardly expected that.  Twenty minutes later she was back in the bedroom, brushing her wet hair in front of the small mirror while Tom played with Eugene.  “Leah don’t wanna take anything from me,” he said, turning his back while the child hid.  “Maybe it’d come better from you.”

 

“What did you have in mind?”

 

“Give her a hundred dollars to keep by her, in case of trouble.  It ain’t much, but it’s somethin’.” 

 

“All right.  When both of us are with her, I think, but I’ll bring it up. – She doesn’t want us to think she can’t manage.”

 

“She’s proud.”  He pretended to search for Eugene, and finally found him under the bed.   When the child was distracted again, he went on, “Did I tell you, back then, when she knew about you, she said she wouldn’t be my kept woman?  She don’t want it even to look that way; reckon I can’t blame her.”

 

“No, you didn’t tell me.  Did you offer?”

 

“No!”  He was shocked.  “Victoria, you can’t think that of me!”

 

“I don’t. – A different sort of woman, somebody like Martha Simmons, would’ve taken you for all she could get.  But Leah isn’t like that, I can see for myself.”

 

“Martha Simmons never would’ve bothered savin’ a stranger’s life in the first place.”

 

“You didn’t tell me much about that part.  You were hurt, she took you home with her and looked after you.”

 

“Don’t remember much.  Woke up in bed in a strange room, with her bendin’ over me.  She said she and Hannah got me there – they musta got me on my feet somehow, the two o’ them could hardly carry me.   I’d had a blow on my head, and I was bleedin’ from a knife wound to my arm, besides the broken collarbone, so I didn’t have much strength.”

 

“How long were you unconscious?”

 

“Oh – it happened a couple of hours after dark, and it was afternoon when I woke up.  The next day.  She said the town doctor was too drunk to do anything.  She had me all bandaged up, and my clothes out of sight so I’d have to stay put.”

 

“I should try that, next time you get hurt. – How long did she keep you in bed?”

 

“Four, five days.  Then I was up, with my arm in a sling.  She didn’t want me to go back to the hotel, and I didn’t.”

 

Victoria thought about the intimacy of patient and nurse living together in that small house.  Leah would be all sweet concern, and there would be much physical contact – such contact as Leah had so carefully avoided yesterday ….  “I see,” she said.  “At least, I begin to see.” 

 

Tom offered no further explanations.

 

 

 

After breakfast, Victoria left Eugene with Tom and went out to look at the town.  Consulting her  shopping  list of items she had not found or had not yet looked for in Stockton, she went into a dry-goods store to look for a certain hue of blue ribbon.  There were no other customers.  The stout woman behind the counter looked at her curiously while she matched the scrap of cloth to the rolls of ribbon.  “New in town?”

 

“We’re only here for a few days.”

 

“Where you from?”

 

“Stockton.”

 

“Down in the Valley?  Long trip.  What brings you to Strawberry?”

 

“Visiting. – I can’t decide between these two.  Do you mind if I take them over near the window?”

 

“Go ahead. – Your husband with you?”

 

“Yes. – This one, I think.  Two yards, please.”

 

The woman measured the ribbon and snipped it off.  “I heard Leah Thomson had visitors yesterday.  That you, by any chance?  Sixteen cents.”

 

“Yes, we came to see Leah Thomson.”  Victoria counted out coins.  “You know her, of course.”

 

“Town ain’t that big. – Leah, she’s made her mistakes, but she works hard and does the best she can raisin’ her boy, I’ll say that for her.  Tain’t easy, a woman alone.”

 

“You’re right, it isn’t easy for her.”

 

“Folks are sayin’ your husband is that boy’s pa.”

 

“I don’t think that can be any secret now. – I suppose people here always knew.”

 

“Some might. – What you fixin’ to do?”

 

“Whatever we can to make sure Heath’s all right.”

 

“Takin’ him away?”

 

“He’s Leah’s child.  It wouldn’t be right to take him from her. – Our place is in the Valley, but my husband will come back here from time to time to see Heath.  Perhaps when he’s older – ” 

 

That was too remote to think about.

 


 - - - - - - - - -

 

After dinner, as arranged, they waited in their room until Leah knocked.  Victoria noticed at once that today she had taken time to wash her face and tidy her hair after she finished work.  She took the bundle of diapers again, and added to it a basket from the kitchen as they left the hotel.

 

“That smells like more of your fried chicken,” said Tom teasingly.

 

“So ‘tis.  Was some left, n’ Matt don’ mind if I take ‘nough for Heath n’ Hannah.”

 

“Is he pretty good to you?  Matt?”

 

“Can’t complain.”

 

“Is he fond of Heath?” asked Victoria.

 

“Oh – reckon so.”  Leah did not sound positive.  “He’d like his own, but Martha won’t.  Or can’t – I dunno which.”

 

“Boy oughta have a man around,” said Tom, and then backtracked.  “I don’t mean you ain’t doin’ a good job with him, Leah.  You are.  But – ”

 

“Maybe so. – Well, there’s Joe, n’ Luke.  They’re good to him.”

 

“Who – ? – Sorry, Leah.  It ain’t my business who your friends are.”

 

“Joe tends bar at the Golden Horseshoe – that’s a saloon.  He’s a good friend.  N’ Luke’s a miner.  I looked after his kids for a while, after his wife died.”

 

“I hoped you would’ve got married.”

 

“Had my chances.  Di’n’t feel right, none o’ them.  ‘Sides, I don’ know Charlie’s dead, not for sure.”

 

“You were told he was.  Anyway, after some time – seven years, I think it is – when you haven’t heard from him for seven years it’s legal to get married again.”

 

“That so?  I di’n’t know that.  Be seven years come next winter.”

 

“There you are, then.”

 

She invited them into the house today, but it was hot inside and they went back to sit on the porch, while Hannah took the diapers for washing.  Heath sat on the steps eating his share of fried chicken, while Victoria and Leah both took out their sewing and talked of housekeeping.

 

“Somebody lookin’ after your boys at home?”

 

“Yes, we have someone now to help me in the house, a colored man named Silas.  He can do what needs to be done while we’re gone – at least, I hope so.”  Victoria did feel some anxiety on this score, since Silas was so new to them.

 

“So you jus’ brought the li’l one.”

 

“Yes, I didn’t want to leave him with Silas for so long.”

 

Eugene had been on Tom’s knee, but he wriggled down and toddled over to Heath.  “Boy!” he said gleefully.

 

“Boy youself,” said Heath.  He looked at Victoria.  “Can I give him some o’ this?”

 

“No, please, Heath.  He’s had his dinner already, and fried chicken isn’t very good for him.”  To Leah, “He had plenty of potatoes and squash, and a bit of the pie.”

 

“Pie!” said Eugene.

 

“I don’ got no pie today.  ‘S all right, I like chicken,” Heath told him, taking a big bite from the last piece.

 

“It was real good pie,” Tom told him teasingly.  “Too bad we ate it all.”

 

“Have it sometimes,” Heath answered.

 

Leah said, “Honey, you help Eugene down the steps and play with him in the yard.”

 

“Eu-gene.  I forgot his name!  Here, Eu-gene, don’t fall.”

 

The adults watched as Heath carefully supported Eugene’s uncertain feet down the two steps to the ground and they began to play.  Tom chuckled, and Leah laughed joyfully.

 

Tom said, “It’s good to hear you laugh, Leah.”

 

The laughter died.  “You shouldn’t oughta talk like that,” said Leah sternly, but her voice trembled a little.

 

“Won’t you take even a kind word from me? – Leah, I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

 

Leah wiped her eyes and blew her nose.  “I ain’t – it’s kindness makes me cry, mos’ly.”

 

Victoria waited until they were both quiet again, and then judged it time to intervene.  “Leah, may I say something?  I believe what happened between you and Tom is in the past.  I trust you as much as I trust him, to see it stays that way.  A kind word or a smile, on either side, won’t change that.”

 

“No.  But it can make it harder.”

 

That was a revelation, perhaps.  It was hard for her, to be cold to his warmth.  Was she still in love with him?  “You can see I likely won’t come back here next time Tom comes, or perhaps for a long time.  One baby is barely manageable, travelling!  I have to trust him to come alone.”

 

“I was thinkin’,” said Tom, “next time I come I might bring Jarrod with me.”

 

Leah bit her lip.  “So you mean to tell him ‘bout Heath.”

 

“He’s gonna hear it.  Better I tell him.  Nick too, and some other time he can come with me.”

 

“Will it hurt you – if other people hear about it?”

 

“Nothin’ I can’t live down. – That puts me in mind o’ somethin’ I wanna ask you.  I heard about Heath, down in the Valley, from a man who was up here a year or two back.  Accordin’ to him, somebody pointed out Heath and said, that’s Tom Barkley’s boy.  That seem likely to you?”

 

“No, it don’t. Lotsa folks might know, I reckon, but why’d they tell a stranger?  ‘Less he’d already talked ‘bout you, maybe.”

 

“Could be.  Frank McGarrett, lives near us; nosy fellow.  He coulda come here and said, oh, I know Tom Barkley, he was up here a few years back, you know him?  Reckon that’s how it musta gone.”

 

“Jus’ so ‘twasn’t Matt or Martha, or Joe.  I tol’ them not to talk ‘bout me and Heath to strangers.  Rachel wouldn’t, or Luke.”

 

“Didn’t figure it was any use askin’ Frank.  Well, he had me not knowin’ what to say.”

 

“Why were you so afraid of us hearing about Heath?” asked Victoria.

 

“Di’n’t wanna cause trouble for Tom. – Di’n’t want him comin’ ‘round again.”

 

Tom said, “No trouble it could cause, I couldn’t handle – ‘cept, when Frank told me that, I knew I better tell Victoria ‘fore anybody else did.  Or I would’ve been in trouble for sure.”

 

“True enough,” said Victoria.  “It’s a weakness of mine, Leah.  I can keep a secret, but I don’t like it when secrets are kept from me.”

 

“As for the other,” Tom went on, “however you feel ‘bout me comin’ back, now I know ‘bout Heath, I’m gonna come back every year at least, to see him.  So you were right on that one.  You don’t have to see me if you don’t wanna.”

 

“It ain’t – it ain’t that I mind seein’ you.  It’s – what folks’ll say.”

 

“You mean what they’ll say about you?  You’re concerned with your reputation in Strawberry?”  Victoria, again, felt the need to make things clear.

 

“You might think I ain’t got no good name lef’ to lose.  But I gotta try, jus’ the same.”

 

“Has our coming here hurt you that way?  I’m afraid it has – I was in one of the stores this morning, the saleslady was inquisitive, and I’m afraid I said more than you would like.”

 

“The dry goods?”

 

“Yes, I was buying ribbon.”

 

“Mrs. Callan.  Sharp nose, but she don’ mean no harm.  Helped me out a time or two, n’ I done the same for her.”

 

“She spoke well of you.”

 

Leah sighed.  “All the same, I don’ wan’ nobody thinkin’ Tom comes back to see me.  I’m glad you come with him this time, Victoria.”

 

“I hoped it would help. – I don’t want anybody thinking that either.”

 

Tom said, “If I gotta have a chaperon every time I come, Jarrod’s gonna get tired of the road.  But I’ll bring him next time, anyway.”

 

Heath suddenly appeared on the steps again.  “Who’s Jawod, Pa?” he asked.

 

Tom looked at Leah.  “Mind if I answer what he asks?”

 

“I was gonna – no, you go ‘head, if you like.”

 

“All right.  Stop me if you think I’m – ”  He leaned forward and fixed his eyes on the boy’s face.  “All right, Heath.  Who’s Jarrod?  Jarrod is my oldest son.  He’s just turned thirteen.  I was sayin’, next time I come to see you, I’ll bring him with me.”

 

“Ain’t I your son?”

 

“Yep, you and Jarrod are both my sons.”

 

“N’ Eu-gene?  He your son too?”

 

“That’s right, Eugene too.  And there’s another one, nine years old, named Nick.  I have four sons.”

 

Heath thought it over. “This lady’s Eu-gene’s mama.  Jawod got a mama too?”

 

“This lady is Jarrod’s mama too.  And Nick’s.”

 

“She ain’t my mama.”

 

“No, she ain’t.  You got a good mama all your own.”

 

Victoria sat still, watching the child.  I wish you were mine, she thought.  You would fit in so nicely between Nick and Eugene.  You look so much like Tom.

 

Heath seemed to have learned enough for the present; he went back to his play with Eugene.

 

Leah said, “Thanks.”

 

“He’s gonna hear more, ‘round town, ‘fore too long.  You want, I’ll tell him some more.”

 

“You can answer what he asks. – He’s so li’l yet, he don’ understand.”

 

“Seems to me, what I own up to myself, he might not hold against me as much as if he hears it from other folks.”

 

“Could be.”  There was more Leah might have said, Victoria saw, but she stopped herself.

 

“It matter to you, what he thinks ‘bout me?”

 

“Matters to me what he thinks – ‘bout you, ‘bout me, ‘bout everythin’.  I wan’ him to be happy.”

 

“So do I.  What you goin’ to let me do for him?”

 

“You can come and see him.  I tol’ you that.”

 

Victoria took her cue.  “Leah, we want him to be safe, and to have whatever he needs.  We know you’re able to provide for him very well, now, but things can happen, that could change.  We’d like you to take a hundred dollars, just to keep by you in case of need.  Please?  It would ease our minds a little.”

 

“I don’ take charity.”

 

“This is not charity.  It’s part of Tom’s obligation to his son – as much a part as coming to see him.  Heath has a right to it.”

 

Leah still resisted.  “Hunnerd dollars’ a lot o’ money.  I oughtna.”

 

“It’s less than it will cost us if we send Jarrod to boarding school in San Francisco in a year or two.  We may do that – we have the money to do both.  It’s not too much, for Jarrod or for Heath. – Please take it, Leah.”  Victoria took out the little bag of gold coins Tom had given her earlier and pressed it into Leah’s hand.

 

Leah held onto it reluctantly.  “Reckon I gotta.  I’ll put it away safe.”

 

“Take it out and spend it when you need it.  There’ll be more.”

 

“Boardin’ school.  Heath won’ need nothin’ like that.”

 

“Likely not.  It’s a surprise to us – Jarrod’s teacher says he can’t help him much any more, but he wants to go on learning.  The school in San Francisco looks like the best way to give him what he needs.  I don’t expect Nick will want that much schooling.”

 

Tom, who had mixed feelings about the boarding school idea, said, “What I’m afraid he’ll learn there, is to think he’s better’n his folks.”

 

Leah, no doubt scenting disagreement between them, said nothing.

 

After a little while Heath came back with another question.  “Is Eu-gene my bwuther?”

 

“Half brother,” said Leah quickly.  “’S called half brother; he got the same pa n’ a different ma.”

 

Tom and Victoria traded glances confirming that neither of them liked the term.  “Half or not,” Tom said, “he’s your brother.  Jarrod and Nick are your brothers.”

 

Victoria added, “Brothers should be friends.  We hope you’ll all be friends as you grow up.”

 

“And stand together.  Brothers should stand together.  You need help, they stand by you; they need help, you stand by them.”

 

“I’ll stan’ by Eu-gene, Pa.  You bet.”  Heath smiled, and ran back to his littlest brother.

 

Leah wiped her eyes.  After a moment she asked, “You di’n’t tell them ‘bout Heath yet?”

 

“Jarrod and Nick?  Not yet – we didn’t know, when we came away, what we’d find out.  But I will tell ‘em, when we get home.  Even if they think less of me.”

 

“That ain’t trouble you can’t handle?”

 

“They’ll get over it.  Or I will.”  Tom faced her squarely.  “I got lots of reasons to be sorry for what I done, and that’s one.  There’s a price, for doin’ wrong.  But when I look at Heath, I ain’t sorry.”

 

Leah nodded.  “I ain’t sorry neither.”

 

Victoria thought of her husband’s heart and allegiance forever divided, of scandal and prejudice, of the child who would never have his fair share.  There was a price, indeed, one in which the innocent must share along with the guilty.  Aloud she said, “Jarrod and Nick are still too young to understand how it could’ve happened.  They’re apt to think worse of you than – than grown men would.  But I hope they’ll respect your owning up and facing the consequences.  That, they can understand.”

 

“That’s all I can do, now.”  Tom took out his handkerchief and blew his nose, a sign that his feelings were touched more than he cared to admit.  Presently he went on, “’Nother thing, Leah.  If you’d like him to use the name Barkley, or if he ever wants to, I’ve got no objection.”

 

“They might – Jarrod n’ Nick.”

 

“If they do, it’s up to them to say so.  I’ve got none.  I don’t say he should, it’s not for me to say, but I’d be proud.”

 

“Depends,” said Leah enigmatically.  Then, after a pause, “I won’ let him use it wrong, not if I can help it.”

 

Victoria spoke carefully.  “If a time comes when you can’t control him – that could be the time to send him to us.”

 

“Might be. – Ten years from now we might all be dead.”

 

“Might,” Tom conceded.  “I’ll see my lawyer, put somethin’ in my will for him.”

 

“I di’n’t mean that – you don’ have to.”

 

“Yes, I do.”  

 

Leah bowed her head, declining to struggle on that point.

 

 

 

Hannah came around the house and stood waiting until she caught Leah’s eye.  Leah jumped up.  “’Scuse me – gotta help Hannah wringin’ out the sheets.”

 

“Can I help?” Victoria offered.

 

“No, no, we’re used to doin’ it together.  Come n’ watch, if you like, if Tom’ll mind the li’l fellow.”

 

“Maybe we’ll go for a walk,” said Tom.

 

Victoria thought about that.  Yesterday Strawberry had seen him with Heath; if today they saw him with Heath and another child ….  “Don’t go far,” she warned.  “He’ll be ready for a nap soon.”

 

In the back yard she watched the two other women take a dozen soaking wet sheets from the big tub, one by one, and twist them to force out a good part of the water; it was one of her own least liked jobs, though she had less of it to do in a week than these women did every day.  She stayed back from the wringing, but pitched in to help hang the still dripping sheets on the clothesline.

 

“Thanks,” said Leah, smiling at her.  Whenever she smiled, her face, which was hard to read at other times, became vividly alive and beautiful.

 

Victoria accompanied Leah inside the house; there was bread to be punched down and put on to bake.  With leisure to look around, Victoria took note of both the shabby simplicity and the tidy cleanness of the main room.  There was no luxury here, nothing for display, but there was quiet decency. 

 

“Tain’t much,” Leah commented.  “Keeps the rain out.”

 

“This is the same house you had – ?”

 

“My pa built this house, when we come here first.  He was a carpenter, ‘fore he got the gold fever, n’ he done better here carpenterin’ than prospectin’.  But then he got killed when a roof-tree come down on him, buildin’ ‘nother house.”

 

“So you came to California with your father and brother, in the Gold Rush?  Where did you come from?”

 

“Born in Tennessee.  We moved aroun’ some – Pa worked at differen’ jobs.  Come here from Missouri.  The three of us, n’ Hannah.”

 

“Hannah’s been with you always?”

 

“Looked after me since I was a baby.  My mama’s family, in Arkansas, they had some slaves.  When Mama married Matt’s pa, they give her Hannah for a weddin’ present.  Mama was real fond o’ her, n’ set her free, but she stayed on – wouldn’ leave.”

 

“Matt’s your half brother, then?”

 

“’S right.  His pa, he died when Matt was a li’l boy, n’ Mama married my pa soon after.  Matt lived with his pa’s folks for a while after Mama died, so it ain’t like we was always together.  Half brother – it ain’t the same.”

 

“I was fourteen when my mother died.  How old were you?”

 

“Jus’ turned nine.”

 

“Life hasn’t been easy for you, I see that.”

 

“I got my health, n’ friends, n’ my boy.”

 

“You must wish for more children.”

 

“Might.  Some other things gotta happen first.”

 

“I hope you’ll find a good man.”  When Leah did not answer, Victoria went on, “Are you still in love with Tom? – No, excuse me, I have no right to ask you that.”

 

Leah put another loaf into its pan before she spoke.  “Wouldn’ say so.  But he – he still makes mos’ other men look like – not much.”

 

“I don’t blame you for loving him.”

 

“He was fond o’ me.  N’ gentle.  N’ – we – no, I can’t talk o’ that.”

 

“No. – I’ve asked a lot of questions, but I won’t ask that one.”

 

“Reckon I don’ see him the same way now’s I did then.”  Leah finished with the bread and built up the fire.  They returned to the fresher air of the porch.  Leah moved toward her usual bench, then abruptly turned back to the chair Tom had occupied, leaned toward Victoria, and spoke very low.  “There’s somethin’ I been wonderin’ too.  Can I ask you?”

 

“What is it?”

 

“When – before – Tom seemed like jus’ reg’lar folks, tryin’ to make ends meet.  But now – seems like he got lotsa money, no trouble that way.  You folks rich?”  Then Leah put her hand over her mouth and retreated to the bench.  “I di’n’t mean that the way it musta sounded.”

 

Victoria could not help laughing.  “I’m sure you didn’t!  I think I know you better than that, already! – So you deserve an answer.  Tom invested in a mine, when he was here before, and made a good profit when he sold it again.  That led to another good investment, and another, and – things have gone very well, the last five years.  Before that, yes, we were trying to make ends meet too.  But now – if nothing very bad happens, I think we’re well established.”

 

“Thanks for tellin’ me straight. – Then I can take a li’l money for Heath, when I need to. – What you said yesterday – if anything happened to you – I dunno ‘bout that.  I wouldn’ know how to be a rich man’s wife.”

 

“Believe me, I have no previous experience either.”

 

“You’ve been to school, Victoria.”  Leah was reproachful.  “I don’ know much, but I can tell that.  Me, I only got to school a bit, three winters.  Can’t hardly even read my Bible.”

 

“It’s not the easiest book to read.”

 

“Oh, I got some other books, I can read.  Trade ‘em with other folks, sometimes, so we both get a change.  Like to read, when I get the time.  But Hannah asks me to read the Bible to her, she can’t read at all, n’ I don’ read it too good.  Maybe when Heath goes to school he can read it better.”

 

“That’s one thing Tom would like – to see Heath get to school.  He’d be very sorry if he doesn’t, I mean.”

 

“It’s what I wanna see too.”  Leah picked up her sewing again.

 

“You’re right, I went to a good school for a while – as good an education as girls usually ever get.  My family wasn’t well off, but we were lucky, the public school in our town in Pennsylvania was better than most, and my parents made sure we went, my sisters and I.  So I know how much it’s worth.  More than Tom does; he only had a few winters at a country school, like you.”

 

“N’ you wanna send Jarrod away to school.”

 

“I don’t want to, exactly.  He’s so young yet, to leave home, and I’ll miss him, we all will.  But I think it’s what will be best for him, in the long run.  Not for the others, necessarily, but that’s the sort of boy Jarrod is.”

 

“He a good boy?”

 

“Oh, yes, I think so.  Thoughtful and kind. But you’ll meet him, next year, I hope.”  Then, seeing that Leah looked doubtful, she thought further and qualified her statement.  “He’s so young – he won’t understand this situation very well, and he may not be kind to you at first.”  After another moment, “We are connected with you, all of us, but not all of us made a choice.”  Tom had made a choice, years ago, and another now.  She herself had shared in this second choice, but her children had not.  And Leah – what choices had she made?

 

Leah said, “He’ll maybe think, I got ideas ‘bout gettin’ Tom back.”

 

“He might.”

 

“You think I do?”

 

“No.  If I ever did, I don’t now.”

 

“Don’ trus’ me too far.”

 

“I do trust you.  Am I wrong?”

 

“I don’ inten’ – but if – ”

 

“I trust him too.”

 

Both women went on with their sewing for a few minutes without speaking, while thinking over what had been said, and what else they might want to say.  Before they were ready to talk again, a man turned in at the gate and said, “Afternoon, ladies.”  He was a big fellow in early middle age, running to fat a little but obviously very strong.

 

Leah answered.  “Afternoon, Joe.  Joe, this here’s Mrs. Barkley.  My frien’ Joe Smith.”

 

“How do you do, Mr. Smith.” 

 

He nodded to her, and looked at Leah.  “Heard you had company.”

 

“Heard all ‘bout ‘em too, di’n’t you?”

 

“Heard ‘nough, I reckon.  I seen him las’ night.”

 

“Joe, you stay outa my business.”

 

“What you want, I’ll do,” he declared.  “You want I leave him be, I leave him be.  You want I kill him, I kill him.”

 

“I’d never want that, Joe.  You know I wouldn’t.  You leave him be.”

 

“If’n that’s what you want. – Reason I come by, there’s gonna be dancin’ tonight at Mullins’ barn.  You wanna go?”

 

“Can’t tonight, Joe.  Maybe nex’ time.  Thanks for askin’.”  She smiled at him and patted his beefy hand where it rested on the railing.

 

“You seein’ him?”  There was menace in his growl.

 

Victoria did not want Tom to have such a formidable enemy in this town.   She said, “My husband’s here only because of Heath, Mr. Smith.  He’ll come again, when he can, only because of Heath.  If I believe that, I think you can too.”

 

He looked at her.  She met his eyes calmly, and after a moment he nodded.  “Fair ‘nough, ma’am.  You and me, we’re on the same side, I reckon. – Leah, you want me to do anythin’, you jus’ say the word.” 

 

Leah stood up.  “Got your clean clothes.”  She went into the house and came back with a bundle.   He took it, counted out coins to her, and went away.

 

“Your defender?”

 

Leah shrugged.  “There’s more men than women in this town, n’ some o’ them are pretty rough.  Joe makes sure nobody comes aroun’ botherin’ me.”

 

“And asks you to dances.”

 

“I like dancin’.  But, well, with you here, I got behind on other jobs.”  She picked up her sewing again and bent to it as if in a hurry to finish.  After a little she went on, “Maybe you think I oughta marry Joe.”

 

“That’s something only you can decide, Leah.” 

 

“I made enough mistakes in my life.  I ain’ fixin’ to make another one.”

 

Victoria did not comment on that.  Presently she said, “Joe may defend you against the rough men, but he can’t do anything about the cruelty of respectable women.”

 

Leah looked surprised.  “That he can’t.  But if I gotta choose, I’ll take my chances with the women.  Wors’ they can do is hurt my feelin’s.”

 

“They can’t interfere with your livelihood – your job?”

 

“Hotel depen’s on the single men for business, mainly.  ‘Sides, them that’d stay away ‘count o’ me ’d do the same ‘count o’ Martha, mos’ like.”

 

“Ah.  Rachel said something about her. – She – ?”

 

“She ain’t no better’n me, anyhow.”

 

“Worse, if she – sold herself – ?”

 

“Sometimes it’s all a woman has lef”. – I ain’t had to do that yet.  I won’, ‘slong’s I can sell my strength and my skill.  But I don’ blame them that do, not when they gotta.”

 

“Oh, no, Leah, you mustn’t do that!  Come to us first – promise you will.  For Heath’s sake, and Tom’s too.”

 

“I’ll bear it in mind.  Reckon there’s some things worse’n takin’ charity.”

 

“From us it will never be charity, it will be – obligation, yes, and love too.”

 

“You got no cause t’love me, Victoria.  And you don’ want Tom to.”

 

“Tom can love Heath, at least.  And he will, he does.  That’s enough.”

 

Leah bent over her sewing.  Presently she said, “I di’n’t know he was so good with kids.  Reckon he’s had lotsa practice.”

 

“He’s always been good with them – since I’ve known him.  He grew up in a big family, you know – the second of nine.  He practiced on his brothers and sisters.”

 

“No, I di’n’t know that.  Jus’ know he come from a farm in Pennsylvania.”

 

“A rocky little farm, and too many children.  Tom left home when he was fifteen, worked where he could, tried different trades, and nine years later he was ready to move West – that’s when we met.  We visited at his parents’ house for a few days after we were married, and he never saw them again.”  

 

“They still livin’?”

 

“His mother is, though I think she’s not very well.  We hear from some of his brothers and sisters a couple of times a year, some hardly ever – they have their own lives.  Tom’s still hoping to persuade one or two of his younger brothers to come to California – the youngest one’s only twenty-two, and wants to farm, but one of the others has the family farm. – But it’s such a long journey – and it will be years yet before there’s a railroad, even if they settle on a route sometime soon.”

 

“A railroad – way out here?”

 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

 

“I seen a train once, but I ain’t never rode in one.”

 

“I did, a few times, back East.  It’s more comfortable than a stage or a wagon, I must say.  A smoother ride, and space to move around – and faster, of course.  But often smoky.  They open the windows for air, then the wind shifts and the smoke from the engine comes in.”

 

“You come out here in a wagon, same as me.  Same trail, mos’ like.”  Most Californians of Eastern origin had done so.

 

“Nine weeks, from St. Joseph’s to the Valley.”

 

“Only seven weeks when we come.  But you come before gold was struck.”

 

“Yes, in the summer of ’43 – we’d been married that spring.  You came in ’49?”

 

“In the fall o’ the year.  Lotsa folks on the trail then.”

 

They swapped stories of their experiences on the trail.  They were laughing together when Tom came back with the two children.

 

Eugene was asleep on his shoulder, and even Heath looked a little weary, but Tom was grinning.  “Sounds like you two’re gettin’ along fine.”

 

Neither answered directly.  Heath went to Leah, while Victoria took Eugene into her arms and asked, “Did you have a pleasant afternoon?”

 

“Real pleasant.”

 

Heath said, “Mama, Pa showed me his horses!”  He went on to describe them, in terms Victoria recognized as Tom’s own.  “I’d sure like to see the other one, the one that went lame on the way.”

 

“Can’t do anythin’ ‘bout that now,” said Tom cheerfully, “but I got an idea for tomorrow.”  He looked at Leah.  “I hear there’s good fishin’ ‘bout  five miles up the river.  Thought we might take the carriage and go fishin’ for the day, Heath and me.  You ladies come too if you like.”

 

“I gotta work,” said Leah, “but you go ‘head.  Be a nice day for you.”

 

“I think I’ll go to church tomorrow, and rest in the afternoon,” said Victoria. “I’ll keep Eugene; he’s too young for fishing.”  She could at least give Heath one splendid day with his father.  “Do you still mean to head for home on Monday?”

 

“Reckon we oughta.  Get back to work.”  He took out his pocket watch.  “Half past four.  You gotta go soon, Leah?”

 

“If’n I wanna make you a good supper.”

 

“You think, if I asked your brother tonight, I could get a picnic basket tomorrow from the hotel?  With pie?”

 

She laughed.  “I reckon that could be arranged.  Matt’ll charge you two dollars.”

 

Heath looked at her.  “Can I really go fishin’ with Pa?  All day?”

 

“All day, if you like it, n’ behave yourself.  He’ll bring you back sooner if you don’, I reckon. – Now run n’ see if Hannah wants you.”

 

“See you in the mornin’, son,” said Tom.

 

“See you in the mornin’, Pa!” he called back as he went around the corner of the house.

 

Victoria was ready to go, but Tom had something else to say.  “Leah, now he’s outa the way, I gotta ask you.  You register his birth?”

 

“Nope.  Gotta go to Sonora to do it, n’ I ain’t been there.”

 

“Thought that might be.  I’ll do it on our way home, and send you the papers.  Just tell me the right date – ‘bout May in ’52?”  He took out a notebook and a pencil stub.

 

Clever Tom, thought Victoria, while he wrote down the particulars.  This way at least Heath will have a birth certificate with his father’s name on it, whatever else.  Though probably not even Tom’s best efforts could keep the word “illegitimate” from appearing – not short of an outright lie.

 


 - - - - - - - - -

 

When the Barkleys went down to supper that evening, the dining room was more crowded than they had seen it before and additional tables had been set up in the bar.  Miners who spent the week at their shacks had come into town for Saturday night, starting with a good meal and going on to the dance at Mullins’ barn.   There were also two or three newcomers, who were telling about their recent journey from Kansas.  They had spent the worst of the winter in Utah, among the Mormons.

 

“Every man there have two wives?” asked one of the regular customers.

 

“’Tain’t fair,” said another, a burly ill-tempered miner.  “So few women in this country, ‘tain’t fair for some men to have two.”

 

“Far’s I could see,” said one of the newcomers, “the old men had two or three or more, and the young ones might not have any.”

 

“’Tain’t fair, I say.”  The miner looked at Tom.  “In Utah or here.  One man, one woman, that’s what I say.”

 

Tom went on eating as if the remark could not possibly apply to him; Victoria followed his example as best she could.         

 

“In Utah, at least it’s accordin’ to their religion,” remarked another man.  “In California it’s plain indecent.”

 

“Folks wanna live that way, they should go to Utah,” contributed another.

 

One of the newcomers, ignorant of local gossip, laughed.  “Man’d have to be desperate, to go over to that crazy religion for the sake of a woman.  Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am.”

 

Victoria nodded to acknowledge his politeness.

 

Someone asked about the farming operations at Great Salt Lake, and the talk passed on.  Victoria rose to go upstairs as soon as she finished her pie, and Tom followed her.  In their room she turned to him.  “Don’t leave me alone tonight, please.”

 

“Them fellas scare you?”

 

“It was unpleasant.”  She was afraid for him, not herself, but it would be worse than useless to say so.  Better to rouse his protective instincts.  “Tom, you wouldn’t even think of that, I know, but – ”

 

“Turn Mormon?  Go to Utah?  No!  Not even for Heath.”  He considered, and chuckled.  “’Sides, you wouldn’t go with me, and neither would she, I reckon.” 

 

“Very likely.”  She busied herself putting Eugene into his nightgown.  When the child was asleep she asked, “Tom, would you be happier if I were more like her?”

 

“How d’you mean?  I love you the way you are.”

 

“If I were more – spontaneous, not so critical?”

 

“Spontaneous?”  It was not a word he was likely to use, though he knew its meaning.  He thought about it.  “You mean you think before you act, and she don’t. – One time she didn’t, anyway.”

 

“You know best about that.”

 

He looked at the floor.  “She wasn’t the only one.”  She waited, and after a while he added, “I depend on you.  I can go away and not worry, you’ll look after things.  Leah does all right, but she might not be able to do that.”

 

“That’s not what I asked you.”

 

“I dunno how to answer what you asked me, then.  I love you.  I know you’re smarter’n me, you think clearer and talk better, but that ain’t – that’s not – why I love you.  I just do.”  He had struggled, early in their marriage, to improve his speech to please her, and sometimes struggled still; the reminder now touched her.

 

“Thank you. – I do talk better, I was better taught, but I’m not so sure about the rest.”

 

“I hain’t been feelin’ very smart lately.”

 

“Tom, what you’ve done these last few days is the best that could be done in the circumstances.”

 

“Maybe.  It don’t seem like much. – It’s my doin’, and it’s them gotta do the payin’, and there’s nothin’ I can do to change that.  I feel real bad about it.”

 

Victoria realized that she did not need to punish him any more:  he would punish himself, more than she could ever do.  She crossed the room to hug him.  “At least Heath knows you now.   And you’ve had some joy in knowing him, don’t deny that.”

 

That started him talking about Heath, and how he had taken to the horses.  He did not speak of how he and the boy would miss each other.

 

 

 

Leah was relieved to find that Tom was not waiting for her outside the hotel tonight.  It was no surprise when Luke Pritchard overtook her in the lane and fell into step.

 

“Evening, Leah.”

 

“Evenin’, Luke.”

 

“You all by yourself?”

 

“Was, till you come along.”

 

“Hear you’ve been having company, though.”

 

“’Spect you did.”

 

“Saw him today, with Heath and a little fellow.  His too?”

 

“She wanted to come, di’n’t wanna leave the li’l fella home with the hired help.”

 

“Mm. – Leah, mind if I ask, what’s it all about?  Don’t answer if you’d rather not.”

 

“He found out ‘bout Heath.  Jus’ by chance.  So he come to see, n’ she come too.”

 

“Fine looking man.”

 

“Real fine.”

 

“Leah, he making you care for him again?”

 

“Dunno.  Gotta think on it.”  They walked in silence to the corner where their ways parted.  She stopped then, and said, “Don’ feel the same’s I did back then.  He needed me then, for a while – he don’ need me now.”

 

He did not answer directly.  After a bit he said, “Meant to tell you, my sister had word from the school in Frisco.  They don’t have a place for her this year, but they likely will next.  So I’d be obliged if you think some more, on what we talked about.”

 

She nodded.  “Thanks for lettin’ me know.  G’night, Luke.”

 

 

 

Strawberry -- Sunday

 

After breakfast Tom picked up his picnic basket and headed for the livery stable.  Victoria lingered at the front desk to arrange to have her dinner delivered to her room in his absence, and to inquire about church.

 

“Church?”  Martha Simmons consulted a scrap of paper pinned to the wall.  “Ten o’clock.  Will you be wanting someone to mind your little boy?”

 

“I’ll take him with me.  He’s used to church at home.”

 

“I hope everything’s been satisfactory, Mrs. Barkley.”

 

“Quite, Mrs. Simmons.”

 

“May I ask about your arrangements with Leah?”

 

“I think you should ask her that.”

 

“As you wish, Mrs. Barkley.”

 

“I can tell you that my husband intends to come back from time to time, to see Heath and to make sure that Leah is all right.”

 

“That’s very kind of him, I’m sure.”  There was sarcasm beneath the politeness.  “Then you have no plans for them to move close to you.  I can see why you wouldn’t want that, Mrs. Barkley.”

 

“That would be for Leah to decide, Mrs. Simmons.”

 

 

 

The church was built of raw lumber, with very little decoration inside or out.  Victoria and Eugene sat on an empty bench near the front.  Between keeping the child quiet and following the service, she had little attention to spare for the curious glances from the congregation.  The preacher was of the hellfire-and-brimstone variety, not at all to her taste, but he said nothing to which she could positively object.

 

Afterwards in the churchyard she was approached by a tall thin woman in black, some years her senior, who had a meek little girl by the hand.  “Mrs. Barkley, I believe?  I am Miss Pritchard, the schoolteacher here.”

 

“How do you do, Miss Pritchard?”

 

“It is always a pleasure for me to meet a visitor like yourself.  I wonder if you could spare the time to come and have tea with me this afternoon?”

 

Why? Victoria wondered.  There was only one way to find out.  “I believe I could.  But I’ll have to bring my little boy.”

 

“That is not a difficulty.  My niece Mary” – she glanced down at the little girl – “can surely amuse him.  Would four o’clock be convenient? Look for a white house at the end of this street, with a child’s swing on a tree in front.” 

 

“Four o’clock.  I look forward to seeing you then.”

 


 - - - - - - - - -

 

Tom put in a happy morning teaching Heath the rudiments of fishing, helping him land several trout, then cooking some of them for dinner.  After they put out the campfire they climbed through the forest until they found a place to sit with a fine view of the valley.

 

“I ain’t never been here afore,” said Heath, “but I can come back ‘nother time, can’t I?”

 

“Too far for you to walk from town.  Your legs aren’t very long yet.  We can come next time I get up this way, maybe.”

 

“That won’t be till a long time, will it, Pa?”

 

“Long enough, I reckon.  Let’s see.  Your birthday’s comin’ up soon, ain’t it?” 

 

“I’m gonna be five.”

 

“Five, right.  That’s a nice age, five, I remember.  Well, I’ll plan to be back sometime ‘fore you’re six.”

 

“Pwomise?”

 

“Heath, let me tell you somethin’ ‘bout promises.  When a man like me makes a promise, he means to keep it.  But sometimes things happen, and he just can’t.  So promisin’s a risky business if he don’t be careful just what he says.  Now, you listen.  I promise, if I possibly can, I’ll come back before you’re six.  If I can’t come, I promise you’ll know why.”  

 

Heath thought it over.  “Did you pwomise Mama to come back, when you was here afore?”

 

“Did she say I did?”

 

“She said – No.  She di’n’t say that.”

 

“Didn’t reckon she had. – No, I never promised her I’d come back.”

 

“Why, Pa?  Why di’n’t you come back afore now?”

 

“It’s kinda hard to explain, son.  ‘Twasn’t that I didn’t think a lot of your mama.  She’s a real good woman, and I got a lotta respect and likin’ for her.  But … Jarrod and Nick and their mama were waitin’ for me in the Valley.”

 

“Wouldn’t they letcha come back?”

 

“No, they didn’t know nothin’ about it.  You mustn’t blame them.  ‘Twas my own doin’ that I never told them ‘bout your mama.  Not till I found out ‘bout you, and then I had to tell.”

 

“Why, Pa?”

 

“Why’d I have to tell them ‘bout you?”

 

“No – yeah, that too.”

 

“That one’s easy.  A man’s gotta look after his children.  If’n I knew I had a son here, and didn’t do nothin’ ‘bout it, I’d be lower’n a skunk.”

 

Heath giggled at that, but he did not forget his other question.  “Why’n’t you tell ‘em ‘bout Mama afore?”

 

“Well, son, there’s certain rules, a man oughta keep to.  There’s a rule that a man oughtn’t to love more’n one woman at a time.  I broke that rule, Heath, when I was here before and I met your mama.  I loved her.  But I loved Jarrod and Nick’s mama too, and she – well, I loved her more’n I loved your mama.  No reason I can tell you, I just did, and I still do. – I was wrong, lovin’ your mama at all.  It was my fault, it wasn’t hers. – I thought, if I stayed away and never saw her any more, it’d be best for her, and best for me.  But I wasn’t countin’ on you bein’ here.  It wouldn’t be best for you.”

 

Heath took his time, thinking it through as far as his brief experience would let him.  “Does bweakin’ that rule make you as low’s a skunk too, Pa?”

 

“Not quite, I reckon.  No, it’s pretty commonly broken.  It’s a good rule, but it’s hard to keep sometimes.  It’s like – there’s a penalty for breakin’ it. – When a man that loves one woman goes and loves another at the same time, they don’t like it, neither of ‘em.  They cry, or they get mad, or just sad.  That can make for some unhappy times.”

 

“That’s why you di’n’t want her to know ‘bout Mama.”

 

“Yeah.  But I already made your mama unhappy.”

 

“Mama cwies sometimes.  But mostly she laughs.”

 

“Your mama sure has a pretty way o’ laughin’.”

 

Heath threw a stone at a squirrel, and missed.  “Pa, you sowy I was born?”

 

“No, I ain’t!  Nothin’ll ever make me sorry you was born, son.  No matter what happens.”

 

“Not even if – if I killed Eu-gene?”

 

“Well, if you did that, I would.  I’d be real sorry.  I love him, just like I love you. – But I don’t think you’d do that, would you, Heath?”

 

“That was jus’ the wors’ thing I could think of.”

 

“It was pretty bad, all right.”

 

“Was – was Eu-gene’s mama mad at you ‘bout my mama?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“N’ was my mama mad at you ‘bout Eu-gene’s mama?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Was they mad at each other?”

 

“Not so much.  Like I said, it was my fault. – Anyway, yesterday they seemed to be gettin’ along real well.  I was glad to see that.”

 

“Yeah.”  After a little, Heath had another idea.  “Maybe if they get to be fwen’s, Mama n’ me could go n’ live with you.”

 

Leah in his home instead of Silas?  “I wouldn’t count on it, son.  They might be friends a long way apart, but I don’t reckon they’ll ever want to live together.  And it wouldn’t be proper.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I told you what the rule is.  If your mama lived close to me, folks’d think we was breakin’ it regular.  There’d be some nasty talk.”

 

“Folks’d call Mama names?  n’ you?”

 

“Yep.  You too, mos’ likely.”

 

“Like bastard?”

 

“That’s one.  Folks here call you that?”

 

“Yeah.  Sometimes.”

 

“You know what it means?”

 

“Somethin’ bad.”

 

“Lemme see if I can explain to you.  You know what it means to be married?”

 

“Means a man n’ a lady belongin’ to each other.  Like Aunt Martha n’ Uncle Matt.” 

 

“That’s a way o’ puttin’ it.  All right.  Well, it means too, they make promises to each other, in front o’ folks.  The rule is, if a man marries one lady, he can’t marry another lady while the first one’s livin’.”

 

“You said before.”

 

“Not exactly.  This one’s law, and the other one’s custom, but they work out pretty close to the same.  Not quite always just the same, but mostly. – Anyway, you see, I’m married to Jarrod and Nick and Eugene’s mama.  I was married to her a long time before I ever saw your mama.  So I couldn’t be married to your mama, even if I’d loved her best. – Bastard is just a word that means somebody whose pa and ma ain’t married to each other.”

 

“Oh.”  Heath thought it through.  “Like me.”

 

“Like you.  It don’t mean you’re to blame for anything, or you ain’t as good as other folks, it just means that one thing.  But some folks talk as if it meant more.  They just don’t know any better, and you don’t have to fret over anythin’ they say.” 

 

“Thanks for ‘splainin’, Pa.”

 

“You’re a smart boy to understand all that, as young as you are.  So you can understand I love you just like I love my other sons.  I wish you could come and live with us, but it just can’t be.”

 

“I see. – Can we go home now, Pa?  I’m kinda tired.”

 

“Sure we can. – Want me to carry you down the hill?”

 

“I can walk.”  He said little on the way back to town, except about the horses. 

 

Leah came out of the house when they drove up.  “Di’n’t ‘spect you back so soon.”

 

“Reckon I wore him out.”  Tom jumped down and lifted the boy carefully over the wheel.  “Now, like I said, Heath, I gotta go away tomorrow mornin’, but if you come over to the stable you can help me harness the horses.  Here’s your fish.”

 

Heath nodded, accepted his mother’s hug, and went into the house.  Leah watched him go.

 

Tom spoke in a lower voice.  “He ain’t too happy right now.  I answered his questions, like you said, and he asked a few more’n I was countin’ on.  I tried to make it all clear to him, but I dunno.”

 

“I ‘preciate that.  ‘Spect he’ll have some questions for me too, after a bit.”

 

“Main thing is, don’t let him get down about it.”

 

“Easy for you to say, Tom.”

 

“I know. – Leah, if you ever wanna leave here, wherever you wanna go – .”

 

A wry smile touched her lips.  “I won’t up n’ disappear.  I’d let you know.”

 

“If you need any help – if you ever need anythin’ – ”

 

“I know.”

 

“If I don’t see you before we go tomorrow, I’ll see you when I come back.  I told him, I’ll come before he’s six, or he’ll know why not.”

 

“Let us know when you’re comin’.”

 

“I will.”

 

They both stood, not quite looking at each other, with no more to say, yet reluctant to part, until the horses grew restless.  “Reckon I better go,” he said then.  “God bless you, Leah.  Keep well.”

 

“Travel safe,” she said, and went in, not waiting to see him drive away.


 - - - - - - - - -

Miss Pritchard welcomed Victoria punctually at four.  The parlor of the white house was small and close, the linen old but carefully mended.  They talked politely about the town and its prospects, about the Valley and the journey from the East.  Miss Pritchard had come in late 1852.

 

“I came to take charge of my brother’s children after their mother died.  Mary was only a year old then, and the two boys were four and seven.  My brother begged me to come.”

 

“But of course several months went by before you could get here.”

 

“Unfortunately.  My brother paid Leah Thomson to look after them in the meantime.  Her own child was an infant at that time.”

 

“Heath.”

 

“I understand you have an interest in Heath, Mrs. Barkley.”

 

“You must have heard, that he is my husband’s son.”

 

“I heard such a rumor in town, yesterday.  I never credit rumor too much.”

 

“In this case it is true.  One has only to see the two of them together.”

 

“Ah.  I have not seen your husband. – This must be difficult for you.”

 

“That’s between my husband and myself.  Our concern in coming here is to do what we can for Heath’s welfare.”

 

“I find it remarkable that you made the journey, Mrs. Barkley.”

 

“Not remarkable at all, Miss Pritchard.  You see, Leah’s choice was not to tell my husband of Heath’s existence.  He only happened to hear – a rumor – a few weeks ago, and of course then he wanted to come – and he told me about Leah.  It’s not in my nature to stay home and brood.  I wanted to know her, and see the boy – I couldn’t bear not to.”

 

“May I ask what you think of Leah, now you have met her?”

 

“I respect her courage and hard work.  And her integrity.”

 

“She has a good heart, has Leah.  Yes.  She was kind to my brother’s children – they love her still.  She is quite uneducated, of course, her speech and manners leave much to be desired, she could not give the children what I want them to have, or raise Mary as the lady I want her to be.  Indeed, I do not believe that can be done in this town.”

 

“Even by yourself?”

 

“I would be glad to take Mary away from here.  To San Francisco or Sacramento perhaps –  a city where she can have the advantages she ought to have.  You may be interested to know that if I do leave here, it is quite likely that my brother will ask Leah to marry him.”

 

“I see.” 

 

“My nephews are old enough, they will not suffer much by such a stepmother.  She can certainly provide the creature comforts growing boys appreciate. – Apart from her lack of breeding, her greatest fault is, I would say, an impulsive generosity.  She will reach out to help someone before she thinks of what it will cost her. – There are many worse faults than that.”

 

“I like your phrase.  Yes, I could see her errors as arising in large part from ‘impulsive generosity’.”

 

“Unfortunately not everyone is so charitable.  There are some in this town who regard her as a fallen woman, no different from the creatures at the saloon who will sell themselves for a dollar or two.  Leah is far above that.”

 

“You are a perceptive woman, Miss Pritchard.”

 

The teacher poured another cup of tea.  “I believe all children should learn to read.  I hope, Mrs. Barkley, that Heath will be one of my pupils in a year or two, if I am still here.  He is a bright child, and well-behaved for his age.  I am concerned, however, that those of whom I spoke may raise difficulties.  I have seen before how their sort will try to keep a child out of school for no fault of its own.  A teacher has little recourse in such a situation.”

 

“I see.  Is there anything we can do?”

 

“Your having come here may help, or it may not.  It is difficult to predict what they will  say, when they know Heath has a father who – am I right? – acknowledges and cares about him.”

 

“I hope we haven’t done any harm, at least.”

 

“My advice to Leah has been that she should leave this town, go to a place where her story is not known, and call herself a widow.  So far, she has not seen fit to do so.”

 

“She has ties here.  Her brother – ”

 

“Her brother, yes.  You have been staying at the hotel, Mrs. Barkley.  You have had a chance to observe her brother, and his wife.  I say no more.”

 

“You crossed the continent to oblige your brother, Miss Pritchard.”

 

“Correction, Mrs. Barkley.  Not to oblige him, but to care for his children.”

 

“Pardon me.  Of course. – So you think Leah may wish to move elsewhere if difficulties arise for Heath at school?”

 

“I quite see that it would not do for her to move to your own neighborhood.”

 

“That certainly wouldn’t solve the problem.  We would take in Heath, if need be, and face down the scandal, but it wouldn’t do for Leah.” 

 

They talked a little more, finding themselves mostly in agreement.  Before Victoria left, she asked, “Miss Pritchard, if you see a danger to Heath’s welfare, at any time, will you write to us?  Leah is so reluctant to accept any help, that I’m afraid she wouldn’t ask for it.”

 

“I will do that, Mrs. Barkley.”

 

When the ladies emerged from the parlor, they found the meek Pritchard children and Eugene playing decorously in the yard.  On the porch sat a fortyish man in a well-worn Sunday suit, reading a newspaper.  The teacher introduced him as her brother Luke.

 

Luke Pritchard spoke pleasantly about the children and the weather.  Though lacking his sister’s precision of speech, he appeared to be a man of some education.   He had homely features, large ears and receding hair, and his mining operations had damaged his hands, but his eyes twinkled agreeably.

 

“I must be going,” Victoria said, picking up Eugene.  “This way will take me to Leah’s house, won’t it?  I have an errand there.”

 

“That’s right,” said Luke, “but Leah will be at the hotel by this time.”  

 

“I know. – Thank you so much for the tea, Miss Pritchard.  I hope we may meet again.”  She looked back from the corner at the proper little family, thinking of her own rambunctious boys.  Miss Pritchard might be a good teacher, but she was perhaps too demanding to be a mother.

 

At Leah’s house she found Hannah washing someone else’s baby clothes.  “I came for my diapers,” she said, “and to pay you for your work.”

 

“Miz Leah, she take them diapers over to the hotel when she go.  She say you don’t pay.”

 

“I think you ought to have your money, Hannah.  Leah is too generous for her own good.”

 

Unexpectedly Hannah laughed.  “That what I say, Miz Barkley.  She too good for her own good.”  She looked anxious.  “You know she a good woman?”

 

“Yes, I believe that.  I think she doesn’t always think far ahead, but she means well.”

 

“Oh, yes, she good.”

 

“What do I owe you?”

 

“Forty cents.”

 

Victoria paid her.  “Has Heath come home yet?”

 

“He come a while ago.  He gone again.”

 

“Did he go with his father again?”

 

“No, he go his own place.”

 

“I see.  Yes, every child should have his own place.  Thank you, Hannah.”

 

 

 

She found Tom lying on the bed in the hotel room.  He jumped up to welcome her and take the child, making a fuss over him.  “I was wonderin’ if I should go lookin’ for you.”

 

“I’ve been taking tea with the schoolteacher.  How was your day with Heath?”

 

“Had some good fishin’. – I said I’d answer his questions, and I did.  He ain’t so happy with me now – wanted to go home early.”

 

“Hannah said he went to his own place, wherever that may be.”

 

“Oh, you saw Hannah?”

 

“About the diapers.  But she said Leah brought them over.”

 

“Ain’t seen them.  You want me to get them from the kitchen?”

 

“She’ll be busy about now.  Later will do. – Yes, I met Miss Pritchard at church, and she asked me for tea.  She’s – rather blue, I think, and spinsterish, but I expect she’s a good teacher.  She promised  to write to us if she thinks it necessary, for Heath’s welfare.”

 

“Could help. – I heard at the saloon, she came here to look after her brother’s kids.”

 

“Yes.  Oh, they’re very proper children!  I met the brother, too.  He seemed like a good man – too much under his sister’s thumb, perhaps.  He’s the Luke Leah spoke of, as being good to Heath.”

 

“You met the bartender yesterday.  Neither one o’ them likely to make Leah a good husband?”

 

“I don’t know that they wouldn’t, either of them.  But she has to think so.  You filled her eyes, Tom Barkley, and no other man can please her, that’s the truth of it.”

 

“I dunno as I please her much either.”

 

“Oh, she’s wary of you now.  I’ve seen that.  She’s hurt and angry.  But she’s not ready for another man.”

 

“Well, here I am, two o’ the best women in California both angry with me.  Reckon I’d better behave myself.”

 

“It’s not a joke, Tom.”

 

“I know.  I know.”  He looked at the floor.  “If you’d seen Heath today – ”

 

“So he’s angry with you too.”

 

“He was bound to be, sooner or later.  But he’s so little to have to understand so much – he already knows about bein’ called names.”

 

“Miss Pritchard believes it would be better if they moved somewhere else.  She’s concerned that Heath will have trouble in school.”

 

“Not his fault if he does.  He’s smart.”

 

“All we can do is offer Leah our help.”

 

“I did.  When I brought him back, she was there.  I told her.”

 

“She didn’t take you up on it.”

 

“She said if she does move she’ll let us know where she’s goin’.”

 

“That’s something.”  The supper bell rang downstairs, and they moved to get ready.

 

Supper passed without incident, the men talking of a new gold strike up north.  A little while after the Barkleys had returned to their room Leah knocked on the door.

 

“I brung your clean diapers.”

 

“Thank you.  I was at the house after you’d gone, and paid Hannah for her work.”

 

“I tol’ her not to charge you.”

 

“It was her work.”

 

Leah shrugged.  “Have it your way. – Reckon I won’ see you afore you leave tomorrow.  Wanna thank you for comin’, Victoria.”

 

“I’m so glad I did.  I don’t know when we may meet again, Leah, but I wish you well.”

 

“Hope all goes well with your baby.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Leah looked at Tom then, but evidently felt she had nothing more to say to him.  He too only nodded at her, and she departed.

 

 - - - - - - - - -

At home, Leah put down her various burdens with relief.  Hannah was washing dishes and Heath was drying, carefully wiping each plate and putting it on the table.   When Leah had put them up on the shelf, she held out her hand.  “Ready for bed, honey?”  He would not take her hand, but went into the alcove where he slept and began undressing.  She exchanged glances with Hannah, and followed to sit on the end of his bed when he had climbed into it.  “Wan’ a story?”

 

He sat up and looked at her.  “Tell me ‘bout my Pa.”

 

“You seen him.  What you wanna know?”

 

“Did he hurt you, Mama?”

 

“Hurt me?  No, he di’n’t hurt me.  Why you askin’ that?”

 

“He said, ‘twas his fault, we gotta live here n’ he can’t live with us, n’ – ”

 

“Oh, honey! – Partly ‘twas his fault, n’ partly ‘twas mine.  ‘Twas jus’ a mistake.  Big folks make mistakes sometimes, jus’ like li’l boys, n’ then they gotta pay for ‘em.  Your Pa n’ me, we made mistakes ‘bout each other, n’ now we can’t ever be together, that’s how we gotta pay.  But we can both love you, jus’ the same.”

 

“’S all right for me to love Pa, jus’ the same?”

 

“Yeah, honey, ’sall right.”

 

“Can I say him in my prayers?”

 

“If’n you wanna.  C’mon, then, say your prayers.”

 

He clasped his small hands and squeezed his eyes closed.  “Please God, help me be a good boy, n’ bless Mama n’ Hannah n’ all my frien’s n’ Pa too.  N’ Uncle Matt n’ Aunt Martha.”  Those two were tacked on somewhat reluctantly.  Then, without any prompting, he added, “N’ Eu-gene.”  He opened his eyes.   “’S all right to say Eu-gene?  Him’s my li’l bwuther.”

 

“Yeah, honey, tha’s all right too.  Gimme a kiss, now.”  There were tears in her eyes as she tucked him in.  

 

 

 

Strawberry  -- Monday

 

In the morning Tom found Heath in the livery stable.  Before they parted the boy accepted a hug.  “I don’ care what anybody says ‘bout you, Pa, I love you!”

 

“I love you, Heath.  Son.   No matter what anybody says.  I’ll see you again, remember, before you’re six. – Now, you be a good boy and look after your Ma.  Promise?”

 

“Promise, Pa.”

 

Tom and Victoria, with Eugene laughing between them, took the road back to Stockton. 

 

He talked for a while about what he might do for Heath in the future.  Before long, he was looking around at the forest.  “Ten, fifteen years, there’ll be a market for this timber.  Could do worse than invest in it ….”

 

 

 

Monday afternoon Leah went to help Rachel with the promised sewing.  The older woman was curious to hear more details of what had gone on, though she had followed Leah’s wishes in not putting in another appearance.

 

“Well, he is a fine-lookin’ man, I’ll say that,” she remarked when Leah finished her story.

 

Leah considered while she adjusted the pattern.  “Yeah, he’s fine lookin’.  Fine talkin’, fine actin’.  Like before.  But this time – I noticed more, he knows how fine he is.”

 

“Mm.”

 

“I don’ mean he ain’t a good man.”

 

“Mm.”

 

“’S like – he belongs with her.  She’s so much finer’n me.”

 

“Finer talkin’, for sure.”

 

“Like I said.  She’s a real lady.  She wouldn’t’ve married jus’ anybody – only the best.  Me, I married Charlie Sawyer.”

 

“You ain’t been lucky with men,” Rachel sympathized.  “Third time lucky, maybe.”

 

“Think so?”

 

“Third time, better take a man you know all about.  No more nasty surprises.”

 

“Could be you’re right.”

 

“You’ve known Luke near five years.  You know he’s kind and honest, and you know his wife is dead.  That’s more’n you knew ‘bout Charlie, or Tom either.”

 

“Could be you’re right, Rachel.  But I gotta think on it.”

 

 

THE END