Getting on with the Right Thing

Part 1

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.

 

 

 

 

This is a sequel to Doing the Right Thing, an AU story in which Leah is alive and well  when Tom accidentally  finds out about Heath.  The year is 1857.

 

 

 

THE BARKLEY RANCH

 

Tom and Victoria returned from their journey to Strawberry an hour after dark Tuesday night and were caught up at once in work that had to be done immediately, postponing such matters as could be postponed.  They had agreed, however, that telling their sons the truth must not be postponed very long.

 

Sunday after church, Tom visited his prize mare, Duchess, in the birthing pen and decided she would be all right for a few hours.  With his afternoon free, he invited Jarrod to go riding with him, to one of the more remote and rugged parts of the ranch.  “Can’t I go too?” asked Nick.

 

“Not this time.  Jarrod and me, we’re gonna have a talk.  You come with me another time, we’ll have a talk too.”

 

Jarrod looked at his parents anxiously.  His mother wore a grave face that hinted this ride would not be just for pleasure, and his father did not seem his normal confident self.  If it was about leaving school – Jarrod reviewed his arguments as he rode.

 

They left their horses tethered in long grass, and climbed up a steep slope to the top of a rocky hill.  “Best view in the county,” said Tom, looking around at the Valley spread below and the mountains in the distance.

 

“Mm.  Yes, it’s fine.”

 

“Sit down, son.”  They sat with their backs to the spring sun, enjoying its warmth.  “You must’ve wondered what ‘twas all about, when your mother and me went away to the Sierra like that.”

 

So it was not about school.  “Yes, sir.”

 

“I’m gonna tell you.  Before I do, though, you gotta promise me one thing.”

 

“What’s that, Father?”

 

“I’m gonna tell Nick too, but not today.  Might be a week or two, till I get a good time.  I want you to promise not to say anything to Nick ‘bout what I’m gonna tell you now, till he hears it from me.”

 

Of course it was right that the older son should share the secret – whatever it might be – before the younger.  “I promise, Father.  What is it?”

 

Tom looked at him, a look sadder than Jarrod had ever seen from him.  Then he looked away again, towards the mountains.  “No use beatin’ around the bush,” he said, but he did not go on.

 

Jarrod began to feel much more frightened than when he expected an argument about his education.  “Is it bad news, Father?” 

 

“Wouldn’t call it that.  But you won’t like it – not at first, anyway.  Fact is – fact is, you’ve got another brother you didn’t know about.”

 

That didn’t make any sense.  “What?”

 

Now the bird was out of the bush, Tom spoke slowly and carefully, not looking at Jarrod.  “I have a son, whose mother isn’t your mother.”

 

“You mean you were married to somebody else before Mother?”

 

“No.  No, I was never married to her.”

 

“But – you – I – ”  Jarrod stopped himself from floundering, and stopped himself too from using the schoolyard word that came first to his mind.  He remembered the long word from his reading, but he had never heard it spoken aloud and had to think about how to say it.  “You mean he’s, er, illegitimate?”

 

“That’s the big word for it.”

 

It took a minute to assimilate the fact that his quite ordinary family had anything so romantic and mysterious about it.  “Where is he?  In the Sierra?  Why didn’t you bring him home?”

 

“Well, he ain’t quite five years old.”

 

That was another shock.  Jarrod’s first assumption had been that this illegitimate brother must have been born before his parents’ marriage and so must be at least a couple of years older than himself.  “Mother – ”

 

“Your mother knows about it.”

 

“She known all along?”

 

“Jarrod, I haven’t known all along.  I just found out, a few weeks ago.”

 

“But – ”

 

“Oh, I knew I – I was a sinner.  I didn’t forget that.  But I didn’t know there was a child.”

 

“Did Mother know about – that?”

 

“No.  Not till I told her.  When I heard about the child, I had to tell her.”

 

“What did she – I mean, what’s she going to do?”

 

“She says she’ll likely forgive me.  She hasn’t quite done it yet, but she thinks she will.”

 

“And everything’ll be just the way it was before?”

 

“Not everything.”

 

“Why are you telling me?  And Nick, even?  What are we supposed to do?”

 

“Well, I hope in time you’ll get to know your brother.”

 

“Nick’s my brother!  Eugene is my brother!  This – this child is my – my half brother, at best!”

 

“If you were gonna ask, do I know he’s my son, well, yeah, I know.”

 

Jarrod’s brief fury was deflated.  He had not even thought of asking that.  After a bit he said, “So he’s five years old and he lives at Strawberry, is that right?”

 

“That’s right.  With his mother.”

 

“And who’s she?”

 

“Her name’s Leah Thomson.  She cooks in the hotel there – her brother’s hotel.”

 

“A hotel cook?”  It was even harder to imagine his father being led into sin with someone who cooked for a living.  Jarrod pictured someone large and loud and middle-aged, like Mrs. Hammer at the hotel in Stockton.

 

“She makes an honest living.  Supports herself and Heath.  Didn’t wanna take a cent from me, but we persuaded her to take something to keep by in case of need, anyway.”

 

“Heath?  Is that his name?  Is he called Heath Barkley?”

 

“No – not now.  I told Leah, if he ever wants to use the name, it’s fine with me. – She said it might not be fine with you and Nick, and I said it’d be up to you to say so.”

 

“So you talked with her.  Mother too?”

 

“Your mother spent more time with her’n I did, while we were there.”

 

“And you gave her money.”

 

“Like I said, in case of need.  If he had to have a doctor, anything like that.  She makes enough to live on, but she can’t have much put by.”

 

“I’d’ve thought, somebody like that, she’d take all she could get.”

 

“Some women might.  Not Leah.  She’s a good woman, Jarrod. – Lemme tell you.  When I was up there before, six years this summer, I was on my way somewhere at night, with a poke o’gold dust in my pocket, and I was attacked, beat up, knocked out, robbed.  When I woke up I was in Leah’s house, she was lookin’ after me – likely saved my life, a stranger – she was a regular Good Samaritan. – She was in love with me.  I should’ve gone, soon’s I could, got out o’ her life before any harm was done – but I didn’t.  Now I owe her more than I can ever pay.”

 

Jarrod attempted to speak with contempt.  “You should’ve stayed with her.”  It was not very successful.

 

“I would’ve, likely, if I didn’t have a family waitin’ for me here.  Couldn’t be both places.”

 

“Why’d you come back to us, then?”

 

Tom looked at him for the first time since starting his confession, a look meant to carry conviction.  “Because I love you – your mother, and you boys.”

 

“Didn’t you love her?”

 

“Not enough.  Not enough to give you up.”

 

Jarrod thought about it.  It seemed that his world was not about to fall apart, after all; his parents would continue living together and this strange woman would not come between them again.  Even if they were never quite the same – but, he realized, for nearly six years his father had not been the same, and no one had guessed.

 

Tom said, “Promised Heath to go back to see him again inside a year.  This fall if everythin’ goes all right, or next spring anyway.  Don’t want him to grow up not knowin’ me.”

 

“Mm.”

 

“He’s a good boy.  Real smart for his age, too.”

 

“Mm.”

 

“Like you to go with me, next time I go.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Your mother won’t be goin’ – not if all goes well, anyway – not with a new baby.  Eugene was just about too much to handle sometimes, travellin’.”

 

That was easy enough to believe.   “But why me?”

 

“Two reasons.  One, so you meet Heath.”

 

“Mm.”  Jarrod could not imagine what he would find to say to a five-year-old half brother.

 

“Two, well, Leah don’t want folks thinkin’ I’m comin’ to see her.  She was real glad your mother was with me this time – didn’t want to see me alone at all.”

 

“You mean she doesn’t want folks to know – ?”

 

“Everybody in Strawberry seemed to know Heath’s my son – if they didn’t before, they do now, we weren’t tryin’ to hide it.  No, she just don’t want ‘em to think she’s doin’ anything she shouldn’t now.”

 

“I don’t see why.”

 

“Well, maybe she’s got somebody special in mind.  She didn’t say, but I got a notion she’s thinkin’ o’ gettin’ married.”

 

“So she’s not in love with you any more?”

 

Tom tugged at his beard, thinking how to answer.  “She’s the only one could tell you that for sure.  Be the best thing for her, if she marries a good man.  Maybe the best for Heath too.”

 

Yes, that would be best.  Jarrod could understand that his father must feel obligated, must need to see to it that Heath was all right.  But let Heath be well looked after, no need to worry about him, and it would be almost as if he didn’t exist at all, wouldn’t it?

 

Tom added suddenly.  “I said two reasons.  Should’ve said three.  There’s somebody else needs to be sure there’s nothin’ goin’ on ‘tween me and Leah, and that’s your mother.”

 

“Doesn’t she trust you?”

 

“Well, not as much right now as she generally does, let’s put it that way.  I think she might trust Leah, more’n she does me.”

 

“Did they – ?”

 

“They talked a good deal.  I wasn’t there all the time, I went off with Heath and left them talkin’.  They seemed to be gettin’ along all right.  Won’t say they’re friends, though.”

 

“Mm.”  Jarrod wondered if it would ever be possible for him to hear his mother’s version of events.  He could not possibly ask her, he knew that.

 

“I know,” said Tom, “this is a lot for you to take in.  ‘Specially, you gotta take in that I ain’t as good a man as you maybe thought I was.  I done wrong, I got lots of reasons to be sorry, all I can do now is try the best I can to make up for it.”

 

“You still feel you have a right to go and see Heath.”

 

“I got no rights where Heath’s concerned.  It’s his rights – it ain’t that I got a right to know him – I want to know him, but that ain’t the same thing – it’s that he got a right to know me.  And you too.”

 

“I didn’t ask for a half-brother.”

 

Tom did not answer, but waited until Jarrod realized for himself how petulant that had sounded.

 

“I’m sorry, Father.  I shouldn’t’ve said that.”

 

“Could make a difference to you someday.  Leah only asked me for one thing.  She said, if anything happened to her, would I look after Heath.  I promised I would, and so did your mother.  I hope if it ever comes to that, you’ll stand by him too – you’ll be a grown man while he’s still a child.”

 

“I suppose I would, then.”  Jarrod already knew that if some accident befell his parents, he would be responsible for Nick and Eugene, and the baby still on the way.  Why not one more? – Then he thought a little further.  “What if – if something happened to Mother?  Would you marry her?”

 

Tom turned his head quickly and looked away at the mountains again.  He took his time answering, and when he did his voice was huskier than usual.  “Might.  If she’d have me – not sure she would.  ‘Tain’t a question I care to think about, Jarrod.”

 

“No – of course not.  I shouldn’t have asked.”  He tried to think of a question that would not be wrong.  “Is it still a secret?  I mean, after you tell Nick?”

 

“Can’t say for sure.  Some folks heard somethin’ – that’s how I come to hear of it.  Dunno how many might’ve heard by now.  I’ll own up if I’m asked, but I don’t aim to go braggin’ about it – best you don’t say nothin’ to nobody, but if somebody ever says somethin’ to you, just say you know, it’s taken care of, it’s family business – as you think best.”

 

“How did you hear about it?”

 

“Don’t think I’ll tell you that.”

 

“Oh.”  Jarrod was silent for a while.  Finally he asked, “How far is it to Strawberry?”

 

“Two days, or a little more – might be less when it’s dry, we hit some bad roads.”

 

“So if I go with you, I’ll have to be out of school for a whole week.”

 

“Won’t hurt you none.  You’ll learn more by travelin’ a bit, than sittin’ with your nose in a book.”

 

“I like school.”

 

“I’d worry if you didn’t.  You’re good at it. – Maybe another year, you can go to San Francisco, to the boardin’ school there.  You’ll be fourteen next year, that’s old enough to leave home.”

 

“I didn’t – I thought you’d be against it.”

 

“Hate to see you go.  But if it’s what you want – I’m real proud of you, Jarrod.  Want what’s best for you.”

 

Jarrod said nothing.  It would have been sweet to hear those words, this morning, but now everything was changed.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

Victoria had been looking forward to a quiet Sunday afternoon and a chance to write some overdue letters.  She had not known that Nick would find his usual playmates absent and come looking for her.

 

“Ma, why’s Pa gonna talk to Jarrod?”

 

“Why shouldn’t he?”

 

“Is it about the secret?”

 

“Secret?  What secret, dear?”

 

“The secret why you and Pa went away.  He should tell me too, not just Jarrod.”

 

“I expect he will, dear.  But he wanted to tell Jarrod first.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Nick, you know Jarrod sometimes gets things first because he’s older.”

 

“’Tain’t fair.  We’re both your sons, we should be treated the same.”

 

“Now, Nick, what if we tried to treat all our sons the same?  Could we treat Eugene the same as you and Jarrod?”

 

“He got to go with you on your trip.” 

 

“Oh, now you want to be treated the same as Eugene?”

 

Nick changed his argument.  “Can’t you tell me the secret, then?”

 

“I think your father wants you to hear it from him.”

 

“I won’t tell him you told me.  Please, Ma?”

 

“Do you want to have to lie to him?  Do you want me to?  You know better than that, Nick.”

 

“Well, at least, come and see the pups.  You haven’t seen them since you got back, and they’ve grown a lot.”

 

Victoria got up reluctantly.  “All right, I’ll come and see the pups.  But after that I want to finish my letter.”

 

The pups were in one of the sheds.  She admired them, held them, listened to the names Nick had given them.  “That’s enough, I think.  See, their mother is getting a little worried.”

 

They walked back out into the sunlight.  Impulsively Nick hugged her.  “It’s good to have you home, Ma.”

 

“It’s good to be home, darling.”

 

He let go of her suddenly and took another look.  “Ma, you’re gettin’ fat!”

 

“I am not!”

 

“You never used to be so big around.”

 

“Oh. – Nick, come and sit with me on the porch.  I think we do have something to talk about.”  When they were settled, “You know we have a new baby coming this summer.”

 

“Yeah –  Oh!”  Nick had been raised around animals; he made the connection abruptly.  It was not, obviously, something he wanted to talk about with his mother.  “’Scuse me, I just ‘membered somethin’,” he said, and ran off before she could say any more. 

 

Laughing at his confusion, she watched him go.  Then she sighed.  What would he make of what Tom had to tell him?  What was Jarrod making of it?

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

An hour later, she heard Tom and Jarrod ride in, and soon Tom’s voice was raised out near the corral, calling one of the hands to account for something.  Jarrod came quietly into the house and upstairs.  She went into his room a few minutes later.  He was sitting by the window with a book open in front of him, but he was not reading.  He looked up at her, and blushed.

 

“So you’ve heard the story,” she said softly.

 

He nodded.  He could not think what to say.

 

She sat down on his bed.  “What he did six years ago was wrong.  Irresponsible.  Reckless.  A breach of trust and honor, in more ways than one.”

 

Jarrod nodded again, hoping he was not going to cry.

 

“But what he did this year was right.  He told the truth, he took responsibility, and he did what could be done to make things better.”

 

“What did he do?”

 

“He went to a little boy who was just starting to understand he had no father, and did the best he could in that short time to be a father to him.”  She paused before she continued, “It’s Heath who is the principal victim in this case.  It’s Heath we must do our best for.”

 

“He said you – you’ll forgive him.”

 

“Yes, I expect I will.  I’ve been hurt, but I’ll survive it.  And Leah says she’s forgiven him.  But he won’t be – clear – until his children forgive him too – all his children, and Heath more than the rest of you.  Not now, but when he’s old enough to understand.”

 

“What – what does she have to forgive him for?  Wasn’t it her fault too?”

 

“I can’t say, Jarrod.  I wasn’t there.”

 

Jarrod had no more questions, and presently she went back to her own room.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

 “How’s Duchess?” Victoria whispered as Tom tried to creep silently into bed.  Her nose told her where he had been and what he had been doing.

 

“She’s fine.  No trouble.  Got a nice filly.”

 

“Good.”

 

“D’I wake you up?” 

 

“I think I was asleep, yes.  Never mind.”

 

“You feelin’ all right?”

 

“The baby’s been more active than usual.”

 

“Three months to go.”

 

“More or less.”

 

“Victoria – ”  He put his hand on her arm.

 

“No, Tom.”

 

He pulled his hand back.  “Didn’t mean that. – Victoria, when I was talkin’ to Jarrod today – ” 

 

“How did that go?”

 

“Pretty much like I expected.  He didn’t like it, but he didn’t say too much.  He did ask me – he asked if anything happened to you, would I marry Leah.”

 

She was surprised that he brought it up, but she answered calmly, “Well, I think you could do much worse.”

 

“S’pose so. – Made me think, if I lost you – if that was God’s way of punishin’ me for what I done – ”

 

“Not the God I believe in.”  She knew he was no theologian.  Notions of his own and bits of old superstition were mixed up with what he had heard preached in various churches.  Her own faith, more liberal and better founded, was in an all-embracing God, indifferent to sectarian details, who judged men and women by their hearts and intentions.  “Tom, if anything should happen – with this baby, or any other time – I don’t want you to feel it’s a judgment on you.  I would want you to go on living and to do what was best for you and the children – your children, all of them – and if that turned out to be marrying Leah, then God bless both of you.”

 

“Be the best thing for Heath, likely.  Not for Jarrod.”

 

“No, I don’t imagine that Leah would understand Jarrod very well.  And she might have trouble controlling Nick – anyone might, sometimes!  But she’d be good for Eugene. – I’m only saying this to let you know how I feel, in case.  I said something the same to her.”

 

“To her!”

 

“In case.  She didn’t seem keen on the idea.”

 

“I dunno’s she’d have me anyway. – Don’t wanna think about it.”

 

“Neither do I, dear.”  She reached for his hand and placed it on her belly.  “Feel that baby.”

 

“It’s a wild one,” he marveled.  “Another Nick, maybe.”

 

“Could we live through another Nick?” 

 

“’Member what he was like about two years old?”

 

“I was terrified all summer, something would happen to him.”

 

“Had some close shaves.  The time that colt was runnin’ right at him, and jumped over his head – ”

 

“The time he fell down the well.”

 

“The time he wandered into the swamp.”

 

“And you were out all night calling for him.”

 

“Found him just past sunrise, skeeter-bit and cryin’ – but he was rarin’ to go again the next day.”

 

She ran her fingers around his big hand, feeling calluses and broken nails, feeling his strength.  “Tom, how will you tell Nick about Heath?”

 

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout that.  Reckon the best way might be, just tell him a story – don’t try to make sense of it like I did with Jarrod.”

 

“I was thinking much the same.”

 

The baby quieted down, perhaps sensitive to the pressure.  Tom withdrew his hand.  “With all that goin’ on inside you,” he said tentatively, “no wonder if you don’t feel like doin’ anything else.”

 

She almost laughed.  “I don’t say I never would, but I don’t now.  Besides, you’re very horsy, dear.”

 

“Yeah, I haven’t forgot how you feel about that. – I’m just wonderin’ if you’re still angry at me.”

 

“Not very much. – I’m remembering, Tom.  Before Muriel was born, I pushed you away, and again after – and when she died I didn’t turn back to you as I should have.  And then you went to Strawberry – and by the time you came home, I’d learned how much I didn’t want to lose you.  Knowing what I know now, I’m only grateful you did come home.”

 

“Reckon I found out then, too, how much I still wanted you.”

 

“Go to sleep, Tom.”

 

When he was asleep, Victoria lay awake wondering whether Leah could have kept him, given the will to do so.  Better not to try to find out, she decided, and put her mind to what needed to be done before she could move Eugene into a small bed in the boys’ room.  It was time to do that, so he would be used to the change before the baby came – but there would be definite advantages to a larger house…. 

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

Monday after supper, Tom announced his intention of going out to have a look at Duchess’s filly before dark.

 

“Me, too.  Can I go with you, Pa?” asked Nick eagerly.

 

“Come on, then.  Jarrod, how ‘bout you?”

 

“No, thank you, Father.  I have some reading to do.”  Jarrod’s refusal was too stilted to be natural, but Tom refused to take notice of it.

 

The mare and the filly were still in the birthing pen near the stables.  Nick hung on the fence while his father went inside to make sure all was well.  “She’s a beauty!  Can I ride her when she’s big enough?”

 

“If you like – you don’t have to decide now, but you’ll be ‘bout due for another horse by then – Benjie’ll be too slow for you.”

 

“What’s her name?”

 

“You can name her if you like.”  This was one privilege Tom was generally happy to pass on.

 

Nick thought about it.  “She’s the colour of chocolate.  Can I name her Chocolate?”

 

“Don’t see why not.”

 

“Or Cocoa.  That’s more like a horse.  Cocoa.”

 

“Cocoa she is, then.”

 

“Can I pet her?”

 

“If Duchess’ll let you.”

 

The mare stood watchful but did not actively object when the boy caressed her baby.  “I’ll come and see you every day, and bring you carrots, and – ”

 

“Go easy on the promises, Nick.  She might remember.”

 

“Pa!”

 

“Well, she won’t, but you will.  Don’t make promises you ain’t sure you can keep, so your promises are always good. – Come on, that’s enough, or Duchess’ll get nervous.  And don’t you touch the filly without me or one o’ the men near by – that’s a promise I want you to make to me.”

 

Nick argued, but eventually gave in and promised.  Outside the pen again, as the sun was setting, he pursued the subject of promises.  “You ever break a promise, Pa?”

 

“More’n one.  Sometimes I just had to.  Sometimes I done wrong.”

 

“You never!”

 

“Want me to tell you ‘bout it?”

 

Nick said nothing for a minute, then, “Must be just about time to go to bed.”  He ran indoors.

 

Watching him go, Tom took off his hat and scratched his head.  “This might be even harder’n I thought,” he said aloud.  “Might as well go clean that harness.”

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

STRAWBERRY

 

Leah counted carefully on her fingers, and counted again to be sure.  Yes, Heath’s birthday would be on  Thursday next week.  She would not take anything from the little hoard she and Hannah had hidden so carefully, to spend making his birthday special, but she admitted to herself that she could use her own earnings a little more freely than before.  So much for sugar and raisins to make a cake, so much for a whistle and marbles from the store, and the rest – well, she still had to arrange that.

 

After dinner Martha came into the kitchen as usual to help with the dishes, or to keep an eye on them – she never failed to notice if one went missing.  Matt was in the bar, serving two celebrating prospectors and their friends, and no doubt hoping for some free drinks. 

 

“Anything runnin’ low?” asked Martha.

 

“Jus’ the usual.  Tol’ you we need ‘nother crock o’ butter ‘fore tomorrow noon.”

 

“Spoke to Mrs. Fletcher this mornin’.  We’ll have it.”  Martha clattered cutlery into its tray. “Don’t like that woman – she gossips too much.”

 

“Reckon she’s had her say ‘bout the both of us.  But her price is fair, n’ she makes good butter.”  Leah scrubbed her potato pot.  “Gotta warn you, Martha.  Heath’s birthday’s nex’ Thursday, n’ I figure to take off n’ have my  supper with him for once.”

 

“Thursday?  Just supper?  You’ll be here for dinner?”

 

“Leave you some col’ meat for supper.”

 

“I s’pose.  Forty cents off your wages.”

 

“I know.  ‘S his birthday.”

 

“Be gettin’ big enough to be some use before long.”

 

“He’s a help already, with the garden n’ the chickens.”

 

“Hear they take boys to work in the mine when they’re six.”

 

“He won’ have to do that.”

 

“Tom Barkley gave you money, didn’t he?”

 

“None o’ your business, Martha.  I won’ have Heath workin’ in no mine.”

 

“You take ‘s much account o’ that br- – that boy, ‘s if he was a prince.  Or ‘s if he was that little boy the Barkleys had with ‘em when they was here – mama’s darlin’, daddy’s pet.”

 

Leah gave the pot a last wipe, put it in the draining pan for Martha, and picked up the cast-iron frying pan with one smooth motion.  “Heath is my darlin’, don’ you never forget.”

 

“He ain’t daddy’s pet, though.  Daddy’s got other pets. – Not only that little one?”

 

“They got two more boys, bigger. – Ain’t askin’ anythin’ from him, but can’t keep him away if’n he comes.”

 

“Reckon not.  That one, he’ll get his own way, whatever it is.”

 

Leah put the frying pan on the stove to dry.  “Gotta tell you, Martha.  Anythin’ happens to me, Tom’s gonna want Heath, sooner the better.  You ain’t ‘spected to take care o’ him.”

 

“You tell Hannah that?”

 

“Hannah knows.  Wha’ she does, tha’s up to her, Heath’s to go to his pa.  You see to it.”

 

“Anything happens, I’ll be the first one writin’ him a letter.  Better nothin’ happens to you.”

 

“Ain’ plannin’ on it.”  Leah gave the table a final wipe and changed the subject.  “Who’s that new gent you n’ Matt was talkin’ ‘bout?”

 

“Mr. E. Brenner, in number four.  New manager or somethin’ at Eagle Mine.  Wants to board by the month all summer, paid a month ahead.  Fine figure of a man, n’ maybe wantin’ some company when he’s not workin’.  Better look him over.”

 

“Don’ need no more men in my life.”

 

Martha had expected Leah to say that.  For herself, she was willing to become better acquainted with Mr. E. Brenner, flirt with him a little, and who could say where it might lead?  Matt and the hotel were all right, had been a refuge from worse things once, but they were not all she wanted out of life.  If she had played her cards better, she would have had a big house in San Francisco or Denver by this time, one way or another.

 

Since she had seen Tom Barkley, Martha had more respect than before for her humble hard-working sister-in-law.  It was not so strange that she had rejected other men, other chances, when she had loved a man like that.  A man who came back, apparently of his own volition, to offer her help and support – even if he was accompanied by a sharp-eyed wife who clearly wasn’t about to let anything else go on.  Martha wondered again what danger of exposure he had found himself in that prompted him to return.  It wouldn’t do an ambitious man any good, to have it known his bastard son was living poor and neglected in a mining camp; that was reason enough to make a show of caring about him.  Unfortunately, what he had done had been enough to ensure him against blackmail.

 

Leah had put on her hat and taken her basket over her arm when Martha asked, “Those sheets done?”

 

“Should be dry by now.  Hannah done ‘em early this mornin’.”

 

“I’ll come and get them now – got some beds to change.”  She went into her own room across the hall and came back with her own hat, newer and more trimmed than Leah’s.  They went out the back door together.

 

In the back yard, a couple of local men were trying to fasten a pack to the back of an unwilling mule.  One of them was knocked flying and got up cursing.

 

“You all righ’, Bernie?” asked Leah, stopping in concern.

 

He stopped cursing and forced a smile.  “Just my pride, thanks, Leah.  Durn animal’s too smart for its own good – one of us’ll be the death o’ t’other yet.  Dunno which.”

 

She laughed.  “You keep an eye on him! – All righ’, Martha, I’m comin’.”

 

 

At an upstairs window, the new boarder, Elias Brenner, had taken time out from unpacking his valise to watch the struggle with the mule.  Now he looked at the two women crossing the yard, recognizing the one from the hotel desk.  She was a common type, vain and mercenary, of little interest to him, but her shabby companion had a friendly way about her and the prettiest laugh he had ever heard.  He wondered if she was married.  If she turned out to be free, getting to know her might brighten the time he had to put in here.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

STOCKTON

 

Friday morning Tom made a trip to Stockton to buy supplies and to see his lawyer.  Robert Osmond had looked after his legal business from the days before he had much.  Tom thought him an honest man, for a lawyer, but they had never become friends outside the office. 

 

“Good morning, Mr. Barkley.”  Mr. Osmond was ten years older than Tom, much better educated, and probably richer, but he never failed to treat with respect a man who knew how to make money.

 

“Mornin’, Mr. Osmond.”  Tom assumed his best manners and put a guard on his tongue.  He did not allow himself to appear as embarrassed as he felt.  After a little small talk he began, “I’m here to make some changes to my will.”

 

“Ah.”  Mr. Osmond called to his clerk to locate the will in the files.  He had no idea why Tom suddenly wanted to change the will they had discussed so carefully only two years before, but a fee was a fee.  When the clerk brought the document he glanced over  it to refresh his memory.  “Yes, indeed.  What changes do you have in mind, Mr. Barkley?”

 

“I want to add another – what’s the word? – another person to provide for.”

 

“Another legatee, you mean?  If you recall, the will already provides for all your lawful children, whether born before or after it was signed.”

 

“Well, that’s just it.  I want to provide for a child of mine that’s not lawful.”

 

Mr. Osmond looked astonished for a moment before he gathered his professional imperturbability.  “I see.  May I ask if Mrs. Barkley is aware of this?”  He did not want to have to break it to a grieving widow that her late husband had been unfaithful – and especially not Victoria Barkley.

 

Tom understood that very well.  “Mrs. Barkley knows all about it, don’t you worry.”  He gave the lawyer a piece of paper.  “Here’s the names and the amount.  Heath Thomson, he’s the legatee, and Leah Thomson, his mother, she’s the trustee.  Joint trustee, if you’re willin’ to take it on like the rest.”

 

Mr. Osmond looked doubtful.  “Acting with Mrs. Barkley is one thing, but with a woman unknown to me, in a remote place ….”

 

“Don’t think there is a lawyer in Strawberry.  Leah, she’s a good woman but she don’t – doesn’t – understand much about business.  Can you recommend somebody in Sonora, maybe?”

 

“I do know of someone there, a Mr. Connolly, a young man I believe.  I will write to him, if you wish, asking for his consent to be named.”  His tone left it clear that this was less than a recommendation.

 

“That’ll do for now.  I’ll stop in and make his acquaintance, next time I’m by that way.”

 

Mr. Osmond cleared his throat.  “Mr. Barkley, I feel it is my duty to ask this question.  Are you certain of this child’s paternity?”

 

“I’m certain.”

 

“Very well.  I’ll draw up the papers for you to sign once I’ve heard from Mr. Connolly.”

 

“You do that.  Let me know when they’re ready, or I’ll come back in a week or two.”  Tom left feeling it could have gone worse.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

THE BARKLEY RANCH

 

“Saw Osmond this mornin” he told Victoria at dinner.  “’Bout puttin’ Heath in my will.”

 

“Oh, good.  I’d forgotten, but that needed to be done.  Was he difficult?”

 

“Just pompous, like always. – You don’t think Jarrod might wanna be a lawyer, do you?”

 

“I think it’s too early to say.  But if he did, he wouldn’t necessarily be pompous, would he?”

 

“Dunno.  Maybe it’s from usin’ all them long words. – So that’s arranged.  He’s gonna write to somebody at Sonora, might act as trustee for Heath – Osmond don’t want the job, too much travelin’.”

 

“I hope the man at Sonora is honest.”

 

“I’ll check up on him. – That just leaves tellin’ Nick, if I ever get hold o’ him.   I declare he’s got a notion he won’t like what I got to say, and he’s not gonna hear it.”

 

She served him a piece of pie.  “Do you think Jarrod – ?”

 

“Promised he wouldn’t.  Anyway, he don’t seem to be worryin’ over it. – This is real good pie.  You made it yourself, didn’t you, not Silas?  Can tell the difference.”

 

“Thank you.”  She helped herself to a piece.  “Jarrod may worry more than he lets on.”

 

“He say anythin’ to you?”

 

“Sunday.  Not much. – I said I would forgive you, and Leah has, but you need your children to forgive you too, and Heath most of all.  And he wanted to know what Leah had to forgive, wasn’t she at fault too?  I take it you didn’t tell him that part.”

 

“Reckon I didn’t. – Did you?”

 

“It’s for you to decide.”

 

“Well.  If he asks, I’ll tell him the truth.  Jarrod’s one for wantin’ to know the truth, even when it ain’t pretty – not like Nick.”

 

“Nick doesn’t like to let facts get in the way of what he wants to believe,” she agreed, and let it drop.  She knew Tom would not deliberately lie to the boys, or to her, if he could avoid it, but she also knew, better than before, that he could deceive them by mere silence.  Once she had thought she could read him, but now she knew he could still surprise her.  Only fair, she reminded herself, for she too could keep her own counsel.

 

He finished his second helping of pie while she was still toying with her one, and carried his dishes out to the kitchen where Silas had been feeding Eugene and was now wiping his milky face.  The child squealed with joy at sight of his father, and got his reward when Tom picked him up and swung him to the ceiling.  Silas smiled at them while he tidied away the dishes.

 

“We keepin’ you busy, Silas?”  Tom did not wait for an answer to the jocular question before he added a serious one.  “You likin’ it all right here?”

 

“I likes it fine, Mr. Barkley.  Likes it fine.”

 

“Next week, I hope I might get to buildin’ a room on for you.  Gotta have one o’ the men free to help me, ‘less you’re a good carpenter.”

 

“I never done nothin’ like that, Mr. Barkley, but I try if you want.”

 

“We’ll see.”  He dropped his voice.  “Your job’s to look after Mrs. Barkley and the children.  Keep her from workin’ too hard.”

 

“Yessir, Mr. Barkley, I knows that.” 

 

Tom looked through the door of the dining room and confirmed that Victoria was still sitting at the table.  He dropped his voice farther still.  “Silas, you know anythin’ ‘bout birthin’ babies?”

 

Silas looked alarmed for a moment, then seemed to understand that the event was not imminent.  “I sees my mammy birthin’ when I li’l.  Jus’ colored babies, no white ones.  Miz Jackson, she have the doctor every time.”

 

“Well, you might be ‘bout as much use as me, if it comes to that.  Silas, if anythin’ happens when I’m out someplace, you go ring the bell out by the bunkhouse and if I hear it I’ll come soon’s I can.  You got that?  And fetch Mrs Montoya, she’d be better’n nobody, but we’ll get the doctor if we can.”

 

“Yessir.”

 

“Shouldn’t be for three months yet, but no harm in havin’ our plans.”  He saw Silas’s eyes go past him, and turned to see Victoria coming through the door.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

It was Sunday afternoon again before Tom had a chance to invite Nick for a ride.  The boy had apparently forgotten there was a secret to be revealed, and accepted eagerly, trotting along on his pony Benjie and talking about his precious Cocoa.

 

“Well, next time we go for a ride, maybe I’ll ride Duchess, and Cocoa can follow along.  She’ll be big enough to do that.”

 

“Why do I have to wait two years before she’s big enough to ride?  I ain’t so big – she’s bigger’n me already.”

 

“’Tain’t right to ride a horse ‘fore it’s two years old.  Let her have her play time.”

 

“When I can ride Cocoa, will Eugene be big ‘nough to ride Benjie?”

 

“Not quite, I reckon.”  Tom thought about Heath again – Heath would be the right age for Benjie then.  But Heath would be far away.  He had accepted that now.  He had not realized until Jarrod had asked him that question, that the only way he could have Heath here with his other children was if either Victoria or Leah were dead.  Then he had known it could not be – not by any doing of his.

 

At the end of half an hour’s ride he reined up at a grove near the creek.  “Here’s where I been headin’.  Thought we might try this spot, see if the fishin’s any good.”  Usually when he took his boys fishing they stopped at a well-loved spot nearer the buildings, but some impulse had taken him farther afield today.

 

He had string and hooks in his saddlebag, and it was not hard to find suitable branches for poles and worms for bait.  Before long they were fishing, but the fish were not biting.  “Likely the sun’s hittin’ the pool the wrong way,” he said.  “Never mind, we can wait till it moves ‘round a bit.  Never mind waitin’ in good company.”

 

Nick stretched out with his head pillowed on a tuft of grass.  “Nice place to wait.”

 

“Yeah. – Nick, I got a story to tell you.”

 

“It ‘bout the secret?”

 

“It’s about why we went to Strawberry, your Mama and me.  But I gotta start farther back, when I was at Strawberry afore.”

 

“I was just little then.”

 

“You were ‘bout three, you didn’t have much sense yet.  Mama had quite a time with you while I was gone, she told me that when I got home.  I figured, when I left, I’d only be gone ‘bout three weeks, but it turned out I was longer.  See, I met some folks, found out some things, got a line on a gold mine.  I had the papers for it sewed in the linin’ of my vest.  One night, when I’d been there more’n three weeks already and I was fixin’ to come home soon’s I could, two or three more days I thought – well, that night I had a bag o’ gold dust in my pocket, and some folks saw I had it.  I left the saloon to walk just up the street to the hotel , and then I heard some commotion down an alley, and like a fool I went to see what was goin’ on – thought maybe somebody was gettin’ hurt – but it turned out it was me gettin’ hurt.  Somebody knocked me on the head, and took my gold, and left me lyin’ in the dark.  I mighta died there, Nick.”

 

Nick sat up.  “What happened?”

 

“Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes, I was lyin’ in bed, in a lady’s bedroom.  I could tell that, by the frilly hangin’ over the closet, and some other things.  And there was the lady, offerin’ me a drink o’ water.  Sure tasted good.”

 

“Was she a real lady with fancy clothes?”

 

“No, her clothes was just ordinary.  You know clothes don’t make a lady, Nick.  But she was young, and pretty, and she had the sweetest smile you ever saw.”

 

Nick was not interested in that part.  “How’d you get there, Pa?”

 

“Well, seems she found me lyin’, and got me to her house – dunno how she done that, exactly.  She had her old nurse livin’ with her, somehow the two o’ them got me on my feet and walked me there, I reckon – pretty sure she didn’t have any other help.  I had a broken collarbone, and they set that somehow, bound my arm so I couldn’t move it.”

 

“They tied you up?”

 

“No, no, that’s what you gotta do with a broken collarbone, or it can’t get better.  Here, see – there’s a little bump on it from that break.”

 

Nick felt respectfully.  “How come they didn’t get a doctor?”

 

“She said the doctor was too drunk to come.  So I reckon I was better off with them two good women. – And besides that, I had a knife wound in my arm, and a big bump on my head.”

 

“A knife wound!”

 

“Yeah.  So I’d lost considerable blood. – Most likely, if she hadn’t’ve found me and helped me, I’d’ve died there where them fellas left me.”

 

“I’m glad she found you.”

 

“Yeah. – Her name was Leah Thomson.  She come to California in ‘49, from Kentucky or ‘round there, with her father and her brother.  Her brother was lookin’ for gold, and her father got killed in an accident, so there was just her and her nurse.  Then she married a fella turned out to be no good, and he went off and was drowned.  So she was workin’ for her livin’, mostly cookin’.”  Tom had heard some of this biographical detail for the first time from Victoria on their journey home, but that was not a distinction he needed to make to Nick.

 

“So what happened next?”

 

“Well, I couldn’t hardly get outa bed for a few days, and when I could, I still couldn’t do anything, ‘cause o’ the broken bone.  So I stayed there.  I’d lost my gold, but I still had the papers, they were worth more, and they were safe as long’s nobody knew where I was. – And I got friendly with Leah, I liked her a lot, and she liked me.”

 

“Did you find out the bad men?”

 

“Never did.  Could’ve been anybody.”  Tom cleared his throat.  “Nick, I told you the other day, sometimes I done wrong.  That was one o’ the times, and I gotta tell you ‘bout it.”

 

Nick looked away.  “Think the fish might bite now, Pa?”

 

“Never mind the fish!  Sit down right there and listen to me!”

 

Nick had learned not to argue when his father used that tone of voice.  He sat, breaking up twigs into halves and halves again as if that were his main concern.

 

Tom resumed his normal voice.  “This ain’t easy for either of us.  You ain’t old enough to really understand, but you gotta know.  And I gotta be ashamed o’ myself. – See, I was married to your Mama, the best woman in – well, in California, anyway, I reckon – and I’d promised her I wouldn’t love no other woman.  But when I was there with Leah, well, I loved her.  That was wrong, Nick – wrong to your mama, and wrong to Leah too, ‘cause I wasn’t goin’ to stay there to look after her.”  

 

“Was she mad at you?”

 

“Yeah.  She told me to go away and never come back.  So I came home, soon’s I could, and I never told your Mama ‘bout it, ‘cause I knew she’d be mad too. – Then, this spring, when I wasn’t ‘spectin’ anything, I heard that Leah had a little boy, that was my son.”

 

“A little boy!”

 

“Your little brother.”

 

“Like Eugene?”

 

“He’s older’n Eugene – he’s about five years old.  His name’s Heath.”

 

“He’s really my brother?”

 

 “Really.  He is. – Well,” Tom added, covering possibilities, “some folks’d say half-brother.  Same father, different mothers, that’s what it’s called.  But far’s I’m concerned, he’s your brother.”

 

“Is he gonna come and live here?”

 

“He’s gonna keep on livin’ with his mama in Strawberry.  For now, anyway.”

 

“He should live here with us.”

 

“I’d like that, if he could.  Don’t ‘spect his mama’ll agree to it, though.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“’Cause she wants to keep him with her. – Maybe when he’s bigger, we can work somethin’ out, but not while he’s little.”

 

“How far is it to Strawberry?”

 

“’Bout two days travellin’.  I said, next time I go to see him, I’ll take Jarrod, and after that sometime I’ll take you.”

 

“Why can’t I go ‘fore Jarrod?”

 

“When your legs get some longer, and you can sit a horse all day – a faster horse than Benjie – then you can go.  Or if I drive.”

 

“You drove this time.”

 

“’Cause your mama was goin’ with me, and she didn’t want to ride all that way.  But the road’s chancy – had a little trouble, could’ve had a lot more.  Rather ride.”

 

“You said you didn’t tell Mama!”

 

“Well, when I heard about Heath bein’ there, I had to tell her, and she wanted to go with me to see.”

 

“Was she mad at you?”

 

“You bet she was.  But she’s gettin’ over it now, I hope. – Y’know, Heath asked me the very same question.  I tried to explain it all to him, but I dunno how much he understood.”  Tom would protect Heath all he could, while he was able, but he wanted his elder sons’ sympathy and help for Heath as well.  Jarrod would do what he thought right and necessary, but Nick was more likely to put his heart into it.

 

“He ain’t big ‘nough to understand.” 

 

“Not by rights, no.  But he knows ‘bout bein’ called names.”

 

“Like – like Stinky Jeffers.  He’s called names.”  Nick did not admit that he was a name-caller himself, but Tom knew who Stinky Jeffers was and drew his own conclusions.  “If Heath lived here nobody’d dare call him names.”

 

“That depends.  He’s not gonna live here anytime soon, get that through your head.”  Nick said nothing, and presently Tom said, “Let’s see if the fish are bitin’ yet.”

 

They were.  Nick had a catch, then another, and seemed to put aside what he had heard.  But later, when they were laying the fish between green leaves to keep them fresh in the net bag Tom had brought, he asked, “Pa, you still love that other lady?”

 

“I think a lot o’ her, son, but I don’t love her the way I love your ma.  I never did.”

 

“You said before, you loved her.”

 

“There’s lovin’ and there’s lovin’ – there’s different kinds.”  He waited.  If Nick demanded specifics – well, sooner or later they would have to have that conversation, but he hoped it would not be today, and not with Heath in the middle of it.

 

Nick decided not to ask.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

Silas cleaned and cooked the fish for supper.  “Delicious!” declared Victoria.  “Silas, you cook fish as well as you do beef or chicken!”

 

“Nice fresh fish,” said Silas modestly as he began to clear away the plates.

 

Nick broke in.  “Did you have some too, Silas?  Maybe you ate one I caught – I caught five, Pa only caught four.  Silas, did you know I got a little brother five years old?”

 

“Now, Master Nick, you know Master Eugene not two years old yet.”

 

“I know that!  I got another brother, his name’s Heath, and he lives at Strawberry.”

 

Tom said, “That’s true, Silas.  I got another son, lives with his mother up in the mountains.  You might as well know ‘bout it, you’ll hear us talkin’. – Nick, I forgot to say, it’s Barkley business and not for blabbin’ to everybody.  Anybody mentions it to you, just say that, it’s our business and not theirs.”

 

“Thank you, Silas,” said Victoria, handing him the last plates with a look that meant they would talk when the children were out of the way.  He went back to the kitchen, closing the door, to make what he might of the revelation.  The family remained at the table, handing round a bowl of preserved fruit and a plate of oatmeal cookies for dessert.

 

Nick said, “You didn’t ask Silas not to tell.”

 

“Silas is a grown man, I trust his good sense.”

 

“Jarrod, did you know we got a little brother Heath?”

 

“Father told me a week ago; he asked me not to tell you.”  Jarrod seemed somewhat relieved that matters were out in the open.  He had been very quiet all week, disappearing from the family circle more often than usual, thinking his own thoughts.

 

“Why, Pa?  Why’d you ask Jarrod not to tell me?”

 

“Figured I oughta do that myself.”

 

“Mama said that too.  But why?”

 

“‘Cause I done wrong, I oughta be the one owns up to it.”

 

“I still don’t see what was so wrong ‘bout lovin’ the pretty lady what saved your life.  Be pretty bad if you hated her, wouldn’t it?”

 

Tom began to regret he had not made that more explicit explanation at the fishing hole.  This was certainly not the time for it.  “Would’ve been better to just say thank you and go away.”

 

Victoria came to his rescue.  “We don’t need to talk about that now, Nick.  Of course we would all owe Leah Thomson for saving your father’s life, if nothing else had happened at all.  He didn’t repay her very well at the time, but we can still try.”

 

Jarrod stared at her.  “We owe her?”  Owing Heath, he understood and accepted now, but this was something else.

 

She met his gaze.  “Leah Thomson is a good woman, hard-working and courageous.  Her life hasn’t been easy, and we have some responsibility for that.  In this house, we will speak of her with respect.”

 

It was on the tip of Jarrod’s tongue to point out that the responsibility was all his father’s, but he thought better of saying it.  “Yes, Mother.”

 

Tom, watching him, said, “You’re thinkin’ it’s my fault, not yours, and you’re right.  It is my fault.  But I need your help, all o’ you, to put things as right as I can put ‘em now.  Like the time you broke Mrs. Potter’s window and I helped you fix it.”

 

“I agree we should all help look after Heath.”

 

“But you ain’t so sure ‘bout Leah.  Well, she deserves better’n she’s got, and I don’t want you thinkin’ – I mean – You heard your mother.”

 

“Yes, sir. – May I be excused?”

 

When he had gone, Nick asked, “What’s Jarrod jawin’ about?  I don’t understand!”

 

Victoria reached to pat his arm.  “Never mind, sweetheart.  Jarrod is just being Jarrod, and you are being Nick.”

 

“Can I have ‘nother cookie?” 

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

Nick made his regular visit to Cocoa after supper, and found Jarrod at the corral.

 

“Is Father coming here?”

 

“No, him and Buck went to check the cows in the South Pasture.  What’s the matter with you?”

 

“Just wondering. – Tell me what he told you, about Heath?”

 

“Why?  He told you, didn’t he?”

 

“Yes, but he might’ve told you something he didn’t tell me.  Share?”

 

“Share even!  You tell me, I tell you.  You first!”

 

“You first.  It was my idea.”  Jarrod leaned on the corral fence.

 

Nick was annoyed, as usual, by the fact that Jarrod was tall enough to see over the fence without climbing on the bottom rail, and he was not.  “No, you first!”  He climbed two rails, to tower over his brother, and saw that Cocoa was having her own supper.

 

 “Oh, all right, me first.  Well, he said he has a son with a different mother than ours – he was never married to her – she was cooking in a hotel – she rescued him when he was hurt, maybe saved his life – well, who knows who else might’ve come along and found him? – and Heath lives with her – he’s five years old – he isn’t called Barkley, but Father would like him to be.”

 

Nick nodded at each item, until the last.  “Well, he oughta be called Barkley.”

 

“Not when he doesn’t live with us.”

 

“He oughta all the same.”

 

“Your turn.”

 

“He tol’ me lots more’n that.  He said she was a pretty lady, and she came from Kentucky in ’49 with – with some other folks, I forget – and he woke up in her bedroom with his arm all tied up like you have to do for a broken collarbone, and saw her frilly clothes – no, not her clothes, but frills anyhow – and he shouldn’t ought’ve loved her but he did, so she had Heath, but she didn’t tell him and he just found out and went to see, and that was when he told Mama.”

 

Some of this was new to Jarrod, and he took a few minutes to absorb it, asking Nick for more details and trying to reconcile discrepancies.  Unlike Nick, he did not take his parents’ professions of respect for Leah at face value.  Instead he was inclined to suspect her of misdeeds he could not quite name.

 

“If she found him, she should’ve just called the doctor.”

 

“No, the doctor was too drunk to come.”

 

Jarrod had heard of such doctors.  He remembered his mother remarking that one of the things she liked about Dr. Merar in Stockton was that he never drank much.  And it did not seem likely there had been a constable to call, or anyone trustworthy besides her own friends.  Still – “That’s what she told him.  We don’t know it was true.”

 

“Nobody can’t lie to Pa.  He always knows.”

 

Jarrod was old enough to doubt that, though he could not think of a convincing example to the contrary.  “He’d been hit on the head.  Likely he wasn’t thinking too clear.”

 

Nick considered.  “Reckon that could be.  So if he done wrong with her, maybe ‘twas the same reason.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

Cocoa had been nursing all this time, but now she came over to Nick, who lost interest in anything else.  After Jarrod had watched them for a few minutes he went away to think it over again.

 

 

 

When the children were in bed and Silas had gone to play checkers with Saul in the bunkhouse, Victoria bent over Tom and laid her cheek against his.  “There’s plenty of hot water, dear, if you want to take a bath before you come up to bed.”

 

He looked to see if he had understood her, and grinned.  “Good idea!”

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

STRAWBERRY

 

Leah was telling Martha where everything was that she would need to serve supper to the hotel guests, when Matt came into the kitchen.  “Got somethin’ for you,” he told his sister.

 

She went to him, hoping it might be a gift for Heath – Matt had given his nephew small gifts once or twice in the past, though it was not something a body could count on.  But when she saw the package he held out, she knew better.  Leah rarely sent or received mail, but she recognized postage stamps.  Of course, Matt went to the post office every morning, and anything that came for her the postmaster would naturally give to him.  There it was written, her name and the name of the town, and she knew it was Tom’s writing.  She put it in her pocket before Martha could look, and smiled gratitude at Matt.  He was not always so reliable, she knew.  If Tom was going to write to her often, maybe she should have a talk with the postmaster and call for her own mail.

 

She went out the back of the hotel with a bundle of dirty laundry on her shoulder, thinking about the supper she had planned for Heath and the mysterious package.  Maybe Tom had sent Heath a gift for his birthday.  She couldn’t say no, but she worried that he might in time buy their son’s affections away from her.  That was a reason she had not wanted him to know about Heath – but it was too late for that now.

 

Joe Smith came up behind her.  “Gimme that, Leah,” he said, taking the bundle without waiting for permission.  It was not the first time he had caught up with her at this time of day, so she was not surprised, but she felt she could have done without his help.

 

“Thanks, Joe.  Nice day,” she said, discouraging more personal topics.

 

“No sign o’ rain,” he agreed.  “Reckon it’ll be gettin’ hot by now, down in the Valley.”

 

“Don’t often get too hot up here.”

 

He was not to be distracted long.  “Hear that new fella, Brenner, walked you home yesterday.”

 

“Mr. Brenner jus’ happened to be walkin’ the same way I was.”  It had seemed that way, at least.  He had come out the back door of the hotel just behind her; he might have been waiting at the top of the stairs, but why would he do that?  They had spoken about the weather and the mountains, and then he had gone left and she had gone right at the end of the street.

 

“Good-lookin’ fella.”

 

“Now, Joe, I don’ wan’ you gettin’ like that over every fella says hello.”  That was the word Mr. Brenner had used, the same word as Tom in the hotel room, a fancy word.

 

“Too many fellas come lookin’ for you, Leah, and most of ‘em don’t mean you no good.”

 

“Tha’s for me to say, Joe.”

 

“First you was goin’ with Luke Pritchard – I ain’t got nothin’ ‘gainst Luke, but you gotta wonder ‘bout his sister, if she’ll ever let anythin’ good come of it.  Then that Tom Barkley come back to see you, breakin’ your heart all over again and not doin’ you no good.  Now this Brenner fella, who knows what he’s up to?”

 

“Joe, stop makin’ things up.  That ain’ so, ‘bout Tom – he done me good, n’ I ain’ breakin’ my heart over him.  N’ I don’ care nothin’ ‘bout Mr. Brenner.”

 

“Wish you’d let me take care o’you.”

 

“Now, Joe, we been over that afore.”  They had reached her house.  She held out her arms for the laundry bundle, but he held on to it.

 

“Full moon’s middle o’ next week.  Reckon there’ll be dancin’ at Mullins’ barn this Saturday and next both.  You wanna come with me one time anyway?”

 

She stalled, not sure of Luke’s intentions.  “Dunno yet.  Gimme that, Joe.”  He obeyed reluctantly.  “See you ‘roun’.” 

 

He stood glowering as she went in, but by the time she looked out the window he had gone.  “That Joe,” she told Hannah, “he’s gonna make trouble someday, hangin’ roun’ me like he does.”

 

“Bes’ you marry Mr. Luke,” said Hannah while she sorted the laundry.

 

Leah did not reply to that; they had been over that too, enough times.  Luke Pritchard was going to bring his children after supper to help celebrate Heath’s birthday, and show her again how fond he was of the boy he wanted to make his stepson.  There was every reason to accept his proposal, except her own uncertain feelings.

 

She took out her package and looked at it again, taking her time to notice every detail.  It was Tom’s writing, for sure.  He had written to her once before, calling her a wonderful woman and hoping  all sorts of good things for her, when she was hurting and fearing so much it had seemed a cruel mockery.  She had read that letter so many times she knew it by heart, not just the words but every curve and angle of his writing, and after a while it had given her some comfort.

 

“Wha’s that you got?” asked Hannah.

 

“’S from Tom.”  When Hannah had gone outside, Leah opened the package carefully, saving the writing.  Tom had pasted it together carefully, too; there were no cracks to make it easy.  Inside she found a letter and another piece of paper, and another parcel wrapped in coloured paper, the size and shape of a small book, with “Heath” written on a label.  A book.  That was nice, not too much.  Had Tom chosen it, or had it been Victoria’s doing?  She set it on top of the cupboard with her own small gift and Hannah’s.

 

The odd-looking piece of paper she made out, with some difficulty, to be a birth registration notice from the county office.  There was Heath’s name, and her own, and Tom’s, and the date of Heath’s birth.  Tom had said he would see about it.  She did not know why it was important, or why the folks at the county office should care who was born and who died.  There was a good deal of small print, some blanks filled in and some not.  She would read it all when she had the time to puzzle out the big words.

 

Finally, anxious to finish before Heath came home, she turned to the letter.  It was quite short.

 

My dear Leah,

Enclosed is the legal paper I promised to send you.  Keep it for Heath when he grows up.  It will prove that he is my son, if he ever needs it.  I also enclose a small gift for his birthday and hope this reaches you in time.  Please write to tell me this came safely.

Leah, I cannot say how much I respect what you have done, raising him by yourself.  But now I mean to have a part.  At least fall back on me if you have need.  Spare me the pain of knowing I could have helped when you were in trouble.

Best regards, Tom.

 

He wanted her to write him a letter.  Could she do it, without help?  She had once showed Martha a letter she was writing to the cousins back East, and Martha had made fun of her spelling and grammar, calling her ignorant and stupid.  Well, the cousins might not know any better, but since then she had asked Martha to write for her sometimes, or asked Rachel for spellings.  Rachel didn’t claim to spell so well as Martha, but she was nicer about helping.

 

Leah was ashamed to think of Victoria laughing at her bad writing, seeing how ignorant and stupid she was, but she would be more ashamed to try to pretend different.  She resolved that she would not ask Martha’s help to write to Tom, nor even Rachel’s – Rachel didn’t like Tom much, she knew. 

 

But she didn’t have to write today.  She could take a day or two to think on what to say.  She put the letter and the paper safely away in her trunk, stirred the pot of rabbit stew she had started early that morning, and turned to making Heath’s birthday cake.  Measuring the ingredients by eye, never even opening her mother’s old recipe book, she quickly whipped up a batter, poured it into her best cake pan, and stuck her hand in the oven to see if it was hot enough. 

 

Heath came in for his dinner of beans and mush, and heard about some of the treats in store for that evening while he scraped the mixing bowl clean.  The smell of the cake in the oven, and his mother’s promised presence for supper, were enough to delight him; he never thought about presents.

 

Birthdays had their drawbacks, however.  Some time later Leah was icing the cake when Matt sauntered in and caught Heath unaware.  “Here’s the birthday boy!  How old are you now, boy?”

 

“I’m five, Uncle Matt.”

 

“Five?”  Matt turned the child over his knee and spanked him, not using his full strength but hard enough to draw a yelp of pain.  “One, two, three, four, five – n’ one to grow on – n’ one to be good on – n’ …”

 

“Tha’s ‘nough,” said Leah.  “Leave him go now.”  Heath wriggled free and scooted out the back door.

 

“Tain’t a proper birthday if’n he don’ get spanked,” Matt declared, appealing to old custom.  “I was jus’ savin’ you the trouble. – Gimme a slice o’ that cake?”  He reached, and she slapped his fingers.

 

“’S Heath’s cake.  You come aroun’ after supper, when he’s had all he wants, you can ask him for a slice o’ wha’s lef’ over.”

 

“Won’ be fresh then.”

 

“Come your birthday, I’ll make you one.  Tha’ please you?”

 

“Maybe some o’ the customers’d like cake sometime.”

 

“Maybe.  Mos’ly they druther have pie.”

 

He laughed, kissed her cheek, and went to tease Hannah at the washtub.  Leah heard Hannah’s happy protests and smiled herself.  It was good that Matt was so fond of his old nurse, and she of him, though Hannah would always take Leah’s side if it came to taking sides.

 

Leah knew very well that Matt was lazy, selfish, and often drunk, and that he would do almost anything Martha wanted him to do, not for love but because he could not face her anger.  He was not much of a brother, but he was the only brother she had; she had better cherish his good qualities, such as they were.

 

Shortly after Matt had left the yard, Heath reappeared in the kitchen.  “Mama, if’n my Pa was here, would he let Uncle Matt spank me?”

 

“A boy’s gotta be spanked on his birthday.  Mos’ likely if your Pa was here he’d spank you hisself instead.”

 

“No, he woul’n’t.”

 

“Don’ you ‘member, las’ year on your birthday, Uncle Matt di’n’t come roun’ n’ I spanked you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well, I did.  ‘Tain’t a proper birthday without.  So Uncle Matt was jus’ savin’ me trouble.”

 

“Bet my Pa don’t spank Eu-gene on his birthday.”’

 

“Bet he does.  Bet he spanks Nick, too.  Jarrod, maybe he’s too big to be spanked, he’s thirteen.”

 

“Will I be too big when I’m thirteen?”

 

“Maybe.”  She finished icing the cake and put it on the shelf above the stove.  “Now let’s go see what we can find in the garden that‘ll make good eatin’.”

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

Rachel Caulfield came to join them for supper, bringing a dozen biscuits to help out.  They had a merry time over the stew, and had not quite finished when Luke’s family arrived.

 

Nine-year-old Simon ran in first without knocking, shouted, “Happy birthday, Heath!” and looked around for the cake.   Leah reached out to him from her seat at the table.  “Come n’ gimme a kiss, Simon.”  He threw his thin arms around her shoulders and planted a wet kiss on her cheek.  As a small child he had loved her dearly, in the year she took care of all Luke’s family between their mother’s death and their aunt’s arrival from the East, and though he was fond of his aunt now, he had not forgotten.  He perched next to Leah on the bench where Rachel sat.

 

Close behind him came twelve-year-old Jonas, who slipped in silently and waited by the door.  He was as plain as his father, a shy boy, gentle with those he loved but often aloof to strangers.  Of all the children he was the only one who remembered their mother.  When she died he had been seven, her faithful little helper with the babies, and he had not welcomed his father’s decision to put them all in Leah’s hands until their aunt could come, though he had soon become Leah’s helper too and learned to love her.  Heath had been a newborn baby then and Jonas had looked after him as devotedly as a brother.  His own aunt’s arrival and the change to her rigorously proper rule had been a harder adjustment, not entirely successful.

 

Hannah, having removed some empty dishes from the table, paused on her way back to say, “Lookit you, Jonas, how tall you gettin’!  You be a man purty soon.”

 

Jonas blushed and looked at the floor.  Just then his father came in, holding little Mary’s hand.  Mary kissed Heath and each of the women.  She was a pale and quiet child of six, considered by her aunt to be delicate and in need of the greatest care.  She was rarely allowed to play with other children, but Miss Pritchard sometimes allowed her brother to insist on an exception for Heath.

 

Hannah offered Luke her chair.  He thanked her and sat down, holding his hat on his knee.  “Mighty kind of you to invite us, ladies.  We thank you, don’t we, Simon?”

 

“You bet!” declared Simon.

 

“You’s welcome!” answered Heath, cleaning his plate in a hurry, knowing he would not get any cake until he had.  Hannah whisked it away as soon as he was done.

 

Leah looked around.  “Jonas, bring that there box up to the table for you n’ Mary.”  When he had done so, she added, “Reckon we’re ready.  Heath, you close your eyes now.”  She reached up to the shelf to bring down the cake, still warm and fragrant, and set it in front of Heath.  “Happy birthday, honey.”

 

Heath opened his eyes as the others chorused birthday wishes, and gazed wide-eyed at the cake.  “Can I have a big piece, Mama?”

 

“Aw, Heath, save some for us!” cried Simon across the table.

 

“’Nuff for us all,” Leah said, reaching for her sharp knife.  She cut generous pieces for the children and Luke, smaller ones for herself and the other women, saving enough for Heath to enjoy again for as long as the cake could be expected to keep.  Or for Matt, if he came back looking for a piece.

 

In a few minutes Heath’s face was smeared with icing and his stomach as full of cake as even he could wish for.  Mary and Simon, though a little cleaner, were just as happy, and even Jonas looked pleased.

 

“Real good cake,” Luke declared.  “Isn’t that so, boys?”  They all chimed enthusiastic agreement.

 

Simon added boldly, “Wish Auntie made cake like that, Auntie Leah.”

 

Leah smiled at him.  “Wish I had your Auntie’s book-learnin’.  Nobody got everythin’.”

 

Rachel rang her fork against her mug.  “Heath, I got a present for your birthday.”  From her pocket she drew a small package wrapped in a scrap of brown paper.  Heath opened it carefully, saving the paper.  Inside was a little blue cotton shirt with buttons down the front.

 

Heath might have been disappointed, but Leah was quick to praise and thank, and tried it on him right away.  It was a little too big for him, but as everyone pointed out, he would soon grow into it.  She took it off again to keep it clean for special occasions meanwhile.

 

Luke said, “We brought you something too, nipper.  You got it, Jonas?”

 

Jonas produced an object wrapped in a piece of tanned deerskin.  The shape was obvious even before unwrapping; it was a child-sized slingshot made of wood and leather.  Heath would have tried it out then and there, but his mother forbade using it in the house.  Luke had shot the deer and found the forked branch, Jonas had made the sling, Mary had wrapped it, and Simon offered to show Heath how to use it. 

 

Leah brought out Hannah’s gift of sugar candy, allowing each child one piece and wiping their fingers clean afterwards.  Next she picked up the package from Stockton, and met Luke’s anxious eyes as she turned.  He would not say a word – not Luke! – but she could see that he knew it was from Tom, and the knowledge was hurtful to him.  It would always have been hurtful to Joe, but Luke had never shown her before how he felt, or had not felt much for her until lately.

 

“Heath, this here’s from your pa.”

 

Heath looked up at her round-eyed, down at the parcel in its colorful paper wrapping and up at her again.  She smiled at him, meaning to reassure, but she felt her smile was forced and he seemed to know it too.

 

Simon piped up, “Didn’t know you had a pa, Heath.”

 

“Sure I do.  He don’ live here is all.”

 

Rachel cleared her throat.  “Go ahead, open it, honey.”

 

He took care over the paper again.  Inside was a book that started with the alphabet and ended with Bible stories.  On the flyleaf was written, “To Heath, with Love from yr. Father, Tom Barkley.”  Rachel read it aloud for him, and showed him that there were pictures.

 

Heath said, “Mama’ll read to me.”

 

“Sure I will, honey, but you can start learnin’ to read by yourself too.”

 

“Oh.”  Heath sounded doubtful about that.  Little Mary reached out a hand and soon had the book on her own lap, moving her lips as she read.

 

Leah brought out her own gifts, the marbles and whistle from the store, the straw hat she had woven herself.  He liked those better, and gave her a hug before he and Simon headed outside to try the slingshot. 

 

Jonas muttered that he had chores to do and took Mary home, without the book.  Luke accepted a cup of tea.

 

Rachel sipped her own tea.  “That was all right, what his Pa sent him.  Wish I’d’ve had a book like that when I was a sprout.  Can’t say I took a likin’ to the man when he was here, but that book’s all right.  You ‘spect it, Leah?”

 

“Not s’prised, only it come the right day.”

 

“S’pose you told him what day ‘twas.”

 

“No reason I shoul’n’t.”

 

Luke asked in his measured way, “Mind if I ask what more he means to do for the boy?”

 

“He’s gonna come back when he can, see Heath’s all right.  Maybe this fall, or nex’ spring.”

 

Rachel added quickly, “But he won’t be stayin’.”

 

“No.  He won’ be stayin’.”

 

“Everythin’ goin’ all right at your mine?” inquired Rachel, changing the subject.

 

“Not so good as it might be.  Vein’s running a bit thinner’n it was a year or two back.”

 

“Maybe it’ll broaden out again, like the Sandman Mine.”

 

“Maybe. – Had a letter from Duncan Blair, you remember him, about some new finds up in British territory, the Fraser River country.  Might go up there if things don’t work out here.”

 

“Raw country.  Not so good for your kids, or your sister.”

 

“My sister wouldn’t go, that’s certain.  Too raw here, to her way o’ thinking.”

 

“You might take your boys.  Mary’s another matter.”

 

“No, I couldn’t take Mary, not unless I had a mother for her.”  He was still speaking to Rachel, but he looked at Leah.  If Tom Barkley was too close to her now, if she wanted to go beyond his reach, Luke was offering her a way.  There would be a sea journey from San Francisco, and then they would have to travel upriver into wild mountains – a bigger and emptier country than California, Luke said, no place for the timid, with plenty of Indians and bears.

 

“Bears!”  Hannah shuddered.  “Don’ wanna live ‘roun’ no bears!”

 

“There’s bears ‘roun’ here,” Rachel pointed out.  “Luke, Leah ever tell you ‘bout the time she shot a bear?”

 

Leah automatically looked up above the cupboard where her father’s gun hung almost out of sight on its hooks, remembering the cold terror of that day.  “Had to,” she answered Luke’s exclamation.  “’Twas goin’ after Hannah.  Firs’ year we was here, reckon it ha’n’t learned to be scared o’ guns yet, n’ Hannah was out  in the yard cleanin’ some fish Matt’d caught.  I looked out n’ seen a bear ‘tween her n’ the house, n’ no men aroun’, so I got down Pa’s gun from up there.  Hannah was edgin’ away, leavin’ the fish, n’ the bear was eatin’ n’ tossin’ them aroun’ – when I seen she was clear, I fired through the winder, jus’ ‘bout knocked me over, n’ then I had to load n’ fire again ‘cause it wa’n’t dead the firs’ time.”

 

“You were pretty young then.  Brave girl,” he approved.  “You still got the skin?”

 

“Nope.  Fella offered me ten dollars.  Didn’ wanna look at it no more.”

 

 

 

When Luke got up to leave Leah went out with him.  It was not quite dark.

 

“You don’t like the idea of going to the Fraser River country, if you’ll marry me I won’t go,” he told her softly.  “Care more about you than I do about any old mine.”

 

“Thanks for sayin’ so.”  They stood at her gate, only inches between them.

 

“Give me a kiss?”  It was the first time he had asked for a kiss since the spring night he had first asked her to marry him.  Then, she had given him a chaste peck on the cheek, a little encouragement but not much.  If she had learned anything from experience, it was not to make up her mind too quickly about a man.   But now she wondered if she might find with Luke what she had once so briefly found with Tom Barkley.

 

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips.  His arms came around her, pulling her against his lean hard body, and he returned the kiss with growing passion, until he felt her pull away a little.

 

“Leah!”  He loosened his hold without releasing her entirely.

 

She shook her head.  “Dunno wha’s bes’ to do,” she whispered.  “Gotta think on it s’more.”  Then, looking around, “Time them boys was inside. – Heath!”

 

Luke took the hint and called aloud for Simon.  A voice answered from up the hill, and they waited together.  “You thinking of going to the dancing this Saturday?” he asked.

 

“Generly do.”

 

“How about if I stop by to walk you there?”

 

“That’d be nice.  Real nice.”

 

After a few minutes both boys appeared out of the dark, grubby but happy.  Luke and Simon said goodnight and headed for home.

 

 

 

At Luke’s house Mary was already in the bed she shared with her aunt, and Jonas was washing up after his chores.  Simon soon followed them, and Luke sat down at the table with his sister and took up his newspaper. 

 

Miss Pritchard, a prim spinster schoolteacher who never told anyone her baptismal name and did not allow even her brother to call her by it, looked up from her book to inquire, “Did Leah give them cake?”

 

“Won’t do them any harm.”

 

“A foolish way for her to spend her money, celebrating an event that should never have happened.”

 

“She don’t see it that way.  You like Leah, and Heath too, I thought.”

 

“Heath is still a sweet child, and Leah has worked hard to atone for her errors.  I do not condemn her, but I see her limitations.  I wonder if you do.”

 

“I see what a fine woman she is, Sis.”

 

“I suppose you mean to see her again.”

 

“Taking her to the Saturday dance at Mullins’ barn.”

 

“Oh, indeed?”

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

Leah made haste home from work after supper Saturday.  Starting to dress for the dance, she let down her hair intending to brush it and do it up again in front of her tiny crooked mirror.  She was in some disarray when Luke knocked on the door.  Hannah answered to give her time.

 

Luke was apologetic.  “Hannah, tell Leah how sorry I am, I can’t go to the dance tonight.  My sister’s feeling poorly and doesn’t want to be alone.”

 

Leah came out of the bedroom with a shawl around her bare shoulders and her hair hanging in its natural loose curls.  “‘Feelin’ poorly?’” she repeated, annoyed.  It was not the first time Miss Pritchard’s little complaints had interfered with Luke’s plans.

 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, looking at her.  He had never wanted her so much.  “If you want, I – I’ll go back and tell her I’m going anyway.  See you there safe, anyway.”

 

“No you won’.  I won’ have folks sayin’ I took you from her when she’s poorly.  You go on home, n’ I’ll catch up with Matt n’ Martha on my way.”

 

“I’m sorry.”  He pushed his luck.  “Next week the same time?”

 

Turning back into the bedroom, she threw over her shoulder, “I won’ make a promise I might not keep.”

 

Hannah had listened to the exchange with dismay.  She followed Luke out into the lane.  “You go now,” she told him.  “Let her cool down some ‘fore you asks her again. – You wan’ that woman, Mr. Luke, you gotta treat her good, treat her like you loves her.”

 

Luke touched her shoulder.  “Thanks, Hannah.  Reckon I put my clumsy foot in it.  But my sister – ”

 

“If’n your sister come first fo’ you, you jus’ fo’get all ‘bout Miz Leah.”

 

Luke went away towards home, thinking about who came first.  His children, of course – ever since their mother died, they had come first – and little Mary most of all.  Mary came first for his sister, too, and he might yet have to fight to keep her. 

 

He admitted to himself that he had first thought of Leah, last winter, in terms of that fight, a new mother for Mary who might help him overcome his sister’s determination to take the child with her when she left Strawberry.  He had thought then that she was not the ideal choice, only the best available.  But it had gone beyond that now.  He had seen Leah as not only a valued friend but also a desirable woman.

 

A woman who might also be desired by other men.

 

 

 

Leah hurriedly finished dressing, kissed Heath goodnight and promised Hannah she would not be too late, and walked quickly to the hotel.  There the substitute bartender told her that Matt and Martha had just left, and she followed them alone, hoping to catch up soon. 

 

It was a moonlit Saturday night.  More than usual of the miners who toiled out among the hills had come to town, and along with the rowdy element in Strawberry’s everyday population had taken over the main street.  Leah had not gone far before she saw it was no place for a woman alone.  She regretted having told Joe she would be going with someone else; at least with Joe beside her she always felt safe.  But she was still angry at Luke, and determined to do without him.  She walked on, head up and eyes forward.

 

A burly miner named Ralph Perkins, who had bothered her before, grabbed her arm and fell into step beside her.  “All by yourself, Leah?  That won’t do for a purty woman like you.”

 

She looked at him sideways and did not answer.  At the dance, even if Joe wasn’t there, someone would surely come to her rescue.  Meanwhile it might be better to go along with Ralph, so long as he did nothing worse, rather than make a fuss in the street.

 

He spoke close to her ear.  “Seen that fella come back and brung his wife.  Tain’t right – a woman oughta have a man o’ her own.  Team up with me, Leah, get a real man.”  He pulled her closer, forcing his stinking breath on her, pawing at her with clumsy hands, trying for a kiss.

 

She pulled one arm free and slapped him as hard as she could.  “Leave me be!”  Before he could react, she shoved the heel of her hand into his nose.  Other men came close.  There was a scuffle behind her.  As she struggled to wrench herself free, she heard her cherished best dress rip where Ralph held it, the sleeve torn half off the bodice exposing part of her shoulder and breast.  Someone shoved her aside.  She lost her balance and sprawled in the dirty roadway with her skirt above her knees.  She got to her feet somehow, clutching at her sleeve, straightening her dress, looking around for more threats.  But someone must have punched Ralph; he was staggering on his feet, and his nose was bleeding from her blow.  She saw him go down before another assault.  For a moment she thought she saw Luke in the melee.

 

 

 

Elias Brenner, the new mine manager, came through the milling crowd and took her arm like a gentleman.  “Let me escort you where you want to go, ma’am.”

 

“Oh. – Take me home, please, if’n you don’ mind.  I – I tore my dress.”

 

“By all means.”

 

Still shaken, she followed him back past the hotel and into the lane that would take her home, before she thought what conclusions might be drawn, remembered she did not really know him.  “I’m all righ’ now, Mr. Brenner, I’ll jus’ go on home by myself, not take you out o’ your way no more.”

 

“Do you think I’d leave you like that?  No, Miss Leah, I’ll see you safe home.”

 

“Oh. – Jus’ to the door, then.  Hannah’s there, she’ll look after me.”

 

“Has that lout bothered you before?”

 

“Now n’ then – not too much. – I woul’na been there by myself like that, ‘cept – well, somethin’ happened, wasn’t nobody’s fault.”

 

“Next week, will you let me come by your house and escort you to the dance?”

 

“Oh – dunno yet.  Gotta see.”  Her normal caution where men were concerned had reasserted itself.  They arrived at her house, where only the faintest firelight showed through the window.  “Thanks, Mr. Brenner.  You helped me out of a bad spot.”

 

Like a gentleman, he waited outside until he heard her voice and Hannah’s inside and saw the light of a lamp, and like a gentleman he went away.  He had heard her story around town, recognized her difficulties, and approved the courage that kept her cheerful in the midst of them.  Like a gentleman, he had put aside his first notion that he might enjoy an agreeable interlude with her and say goodbye when he left town; she did not deserve more pain.

 

Tonight he had seen more of what her life must be like in this place.  If he could take her away – back to her native place, perhaps, with her child – wouldn’t she be eternally grateful to him?

 

 

 

While Hannah pinned her dress together, Leah gave her a short account of what had happened.  “Oughta known better,” she concluded.  “I jus’ – Oughtn’a let Luke go like that.”

 

“Now, now, honey chile, don’ you fret none.  They’s bad folks in this worl’, you can’t help what they does.”  Hannah remembered a time when she too had been young and far more defenceless than Miss Leah, and things had been done to her.  But it would do no good to speak of that.

 

“Mr. Brenner, he was real nice bringin’ me home.”

 

“Nex’ time, you bring him on inside n’ let Hannah see him.”

 

“If’n there is a nex’ time.  Dunno’s he’ll wanna come roun’ again – he mus’ think I’m no better’n a tramp.”

 

Hannah knew – she had been told so often enough – that she often didn’t understand white folks’ ways, not even Miss Leah’s.  She referred the matter to higher authority.  “We prays fo’ light to the Good Lord.  N’ we tells Miss Rachel in the mornin’.  She know what to do. – There, jus’ you stay still, honey, I stitch through that ‘fore you takes it off.”

 

Leah looked doubtfully at her sleeve.  “Dunno’s it’ll stay.  Maybe the Good Lord’s tellin’ me I oughtna go dancin’ no more. – Seems funny, though, He’d pick Ralph Perkins for His messenger.”

 

Before Hannah had finished they heard rapid footsteps outside, followed by a loud knock on the door and a man’s voice calling, “Leah!”.

 

“Tha’s Joe.  What’m I gonna tell him? – Gotta let him in, anyways, ‘fore he breaks down the door.”

 

Hannah undid the latch, and Joe Smith came in, stopping as soon as he caught sight of Leah.  “Heard you was hurt.  You all right?”

 

“Jus’ shook up some.  Don’ worry.”

 

“Heard that no-good Rat Perkins had his hands on you.”

 

“That he did, for a minute.  Di’n’t do him any good, though.”

 

“Reckon he won’t never bother you no more, not after him and me have a li’l talk. – Heard that Brenner fella walked you home.”

 

“Real nice o’ him.”

 

“Thought you was goin’ with Luke.  Where was he?”

 

She hesitated before she answered with a version of the truth.  “Him n’ me, we had words.  I went ‘long by myself.  Oughtna done it.”

 

“Where’s he at now?”

 

“Don’ rightly know.”

 

“He’s with that sister o’ his, ain’t he?”  He turned to the door.

 

“Joe, don’t go there! – Joe, if’n you hurt Luke – !”  She jumped up to run after him, looking so scared and distressed he had not the heart to follow his first impulse.

 

“You gonna marry him?” he asked bluntly.

 

“Dunno yet.  Thinkin’ on it.”

 

“Marry me, you’ll allus be safe.”

 

“G’night, Joe.  Thanks for droppin’ by.”

 

 

 

Very early in the morning Leah slipped out without waking Hannah or Heath, and went up the street to Luke’s house.  Jonas, coming out on his daily expedition to find and milk the family’s cow, greeted her with surprise.

 

“Come to see how your auntie’s feelin’.”

 

“Haven’t heard from her this mornin’.  She wasn’t too good last night – had a nasty stomach ache, somethin’ like that.”

 

“Mm.  Your pa up yet?”

 

“I’ll tell him.”

 

Luke came outside still buttoning his shirt.  “You all right, Leah?”

 

She saw a new cut on his hand with some swelling around it.  “You all right? – You was there – coul’n’t be sure I seen you.”

 

“Thought I’d just follow along, make sure you got there safe.  Got no right to say who you go with, but when I saw you fightin’ him off, I knew what to do.”

 

“Thought that might be so. – That Mr. Brenner, the new fella, he seen me home.”

 

“I followed along after him too.”

 

“Should’n’a gone by myself.”

 

“Shouldn’t’ve let you down.”

 

“Come back with me, I got some salve’ll take that swellin’ down.”

 

Luke turned to walk with her.  “How ‘bout next Saturday?”

 

“Mr. Brenner, he asked me too.  N’ I ‘spec’ Joe’ll be somewheres around.”

 

He spoke with careful restraint.  “Mr. Brenner must like you.”

 

“Dunno why.  He’s too la-di-da for me.”

 

“Well.”

 

At her house she did not ask him in, but rubbed the salve into his hand while he stood on the porch.  When he had gone, she started her regular morning work, feeling happier because she had made peace with him.

 

 

   * * * * * * * *

 

 

A couple of days later Elias Brenner heard from a mine foreman that Joe Smith, the big bartender at the Golden Horseshoe, had tracked down Ralph Perkins, considerably damaged by his experiences Saturday night, and “persuaded” him to agree never to show his face in Strawberry again.  No one needed to describe the details of the “persuasion”.

 

“One bad egg the less,” Elias commented.  “But why?”

 

The foreman shifted his weight uneasily.  “Joe, he’s real sweet on Miss Leah, allus has been.  Won’t let nobody bother her.”

 

“So he protects her. – Isn’t there some talk about her and another man?”

 

“Well, Luke Pritchard, he’s sweet on her too, seems like.  Joe, he don’t go after Luke, leastways not yet, dunno why, less’n it’s her say-so.”

 

“I see.” 

 

It began to seem there was no way to befriend Leah without undesirable complications.  Elias called himself a romantic idiot and went back to work.

 

Later the same day he met her in the lane on his way back to the hotel.  He would have passed with a tip of his hat, but she stopped.  “Mr. Brenner, I di’n’t thank you proper for walkin’ me home t’other night.”

 

“It was my pleasure, ma’am.  Is there any other way I can assist you?”

 

“Don’ mean you should fin’ me in a spot like that again.  I’m doin’ all righ’.”

 

“As you wish.  Please don’t hesitate to call on me at any time.”

 

“I’ll keep that in min’, Mr. Brenner.”  She went on then, leaving him feeling he had done his duty as a gentleman, and hoping that would be the end of it.

 

 

 

Luke escorted Leah to the next Saturday dance.  There were a few whispers and jokes at her expense, but Joe’s formidable presence in the background ensured that no men took liberties with her.

 

“Glad I went,” she assured Luke on their way home.  “Like gettin’ back on a horse when you get thrown – they say that’s the bes’ way.”

 

“Reckon so.”  He thought that over for a minute.  “Reckon it’s what we both need to do.  My Libby died, your – things didn’t work out right for you – reckon it’s time for both of us to try again.  Together, if you will.”

 

“Could be, Luke.  Jus’ ain’t sure yet.”  But when he asked her for a kiss, she gave it warmly.

 

 

Continued…