Careful What You Wish For

Chapters 8-14

by kashkow1

Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.

Chapter 8

Heath slipped out of the house through the French doors in the study. He felt bad for sneaking out, but he didn’t want to face anyone now, and he had no stomach for eating. He knew he could have been heard if he used the front door, and Silas would have seen him if he used the kitchen. It seemed fitting somehow, given the circumstances, that he had to creep out like a thief caught in the act. He moved toward the barn, being sure to stay out of sight of any windows, and slipped quietly into the stall where Gal was stabled. He swiftly saddled the little mare and was on her and out of the yard before anyone saw them. He headed toward the west side, knowing that Nick had been going to assign the job of checking the fence line in that area today. It was a comfort in a way, solitary work that he could do mindlessly, as the occurrences of the past days ran through his mind.

It was all coming to an end. He had wondered, in his darker times, how long it would be, and it appeared that the time had come. All of his life anything that was good had been taken from him before it’s time. His mother, various women who he had thought would be the ‘one’,…… his innocence. Only Gal remained to him, the steadfast presence in his life. Non-judgmental, loving, and as protective as a dog, she had stood by him unlike any person except for his mother, and in the end, he had pushed her away. He had just recently managed to convince himself, at least he told himself that he had, that he might just be able to hold on to this, to stay here on this ranch, with these people, to be one of them. But he had forgotten, forgotten the hard learned lesson. He wasn’t like them, he wasn’t like anyone here, and no one would ever let him forget it. He couldn’t work his way out of it. He couldn’t buy his way out of it. He couldn’t fight his way out of it.

The idea of fighting turned his mind to his brother, Nick. Now there was a man that would be happy to see him go. They had clashed from the start. Nick had been too….everything. Heath had hated him from first sight. In his shiny boots and clean, well-fitting clothes and sittin’ on his big horse that looked like it never had to get by on thistles or cactus with the thorns burned off. Then, once he had leaned that Nick was his brother, things had only gotten worse. Nick’s resentment was plain, and Heath was not such a saint as to turn the other cheek like his Momma, Rachel, and Hannah was always preaching. A man raised his hand to him, and he was gonna raise his back, no doubt about that. If there was one thing he could call his own, it was the pride he had managed to salvage from his wreck of a childhood. Wasn’t no one gonna take that away from him. Course, that pride wasn’t gonna keep him warm come winter, fill his belly, or give him the family he had so longed for. It looked as if he were on the losin’ end again.

He knew what was gonna happen when Nick went over to Don Garcia’s ranch. Word had evidently gotten around about him, the bastard that the Barkley’s had taken in. Constanza had known, and had shared his opinion, and that meant the patron did too. Heath had been in Mexico a long time, and he knew how things worked. The patron would never accept the fact that the Barkley’s publicly acknowledged the existence of such a person as he was. It wasn’t so much that he existed, it was the fact that it had been trumpeted about like it had been and he was on display like some wild horse in a corral. If anyone could be said to have more pride than he did, Heath knew it would be the Spanish landowner.

Family lines and public faces were everything to them. You were what your bloodlines made you and what the public saw. Don Garcia would not allow his daughter to marry into a family with the bad taste to acknowledge the bad judgment of the patriarch of the family. Then it would come down to a choice, a choice between her and him. A choice between the woman that Nick loved and the bastard half-brother that he could not stand the sight of. The future and the past. It didn’t take no genius to figure out what Nick’s choice was going to be. The others would fight it at first, but then they would come to see that a legitimate bride of good blood was worth so much more than a half-blooded brother that had brought nothing but anger and pain to their lives.

Heath paused at a place on the fence that was sagging. He got down and yanked on the poles. They were moving too much to do anything with them now. One was rotted almost all the way through. They needed to be replaced and new holes dug. He made a note in his notebook, wondering if he would still be there when it came tome to do the fencing. He took off his hat and ran a sleeve over his sweating forehead. He looked at the sun. He had been out here for almost four hours already, and had covered over half of the fence on the west side. It was hotter than hell, and his stomach was grumbling about the lack of food. He was well familiar with the grumbling, and could ignore that easily, but the heat was stifling. He had stopped Gal in a patch of shade, and he joined her there to take a drink form his tepid canteen and to share some with her using his hat as a make shift trough. He was glad he hadn’t been wearing that good hat that Jarrod had gotten him the last time he was in town getting wire.

They had met on the street in Stockton. Heath had been there to pick up some wire for the endless round of fencing, and Jarrod had been on his way back to his office from a meeting. Heath had been loading the reels of wire with the help of Ezra Tuttle, proprietor of the feed store. Tuttle’s man was out with a pulled muscle, and so they had been doing the work between them. Heath had a pair of tough leather gloves on protecting his hands from the barbed wire, but the nasty stuff had already ripped the arm of his shirt, and left a nasty gash. Not that he paid it much mind. Just another scar to add to the collection. Jarrod however had been aghast at the idea of simply rinsing it in the trough and tying it up with a rag. He had insisted on Heath going to his office and allowing Jarrod to clean out the wound. After that Jarrod had insisted that Heath needed a new shirt. He would not be dissuaded, and Heath had found himself in the dry goods store looking at new shirts. He had gotten himself a new blue shirt, putting it on the ranch account at Jarrod’s insistence.

Jarrod and the shopkeeper had chatted while Heath slipped in the back and changed into the new shirt. He had come back out and had wondered around the store while Jarrod finished. He had spotted the hat almost immediately, and had gone to look at it. He had picked it up, and ran a hand over the fine material. It was as fine a hat as he had ever seen. He looked at the price tag and grimaced to himself. He placed it back on the rack, and on the theory that temptation was best placed beyond reach he went outside to wait. Five minutes later Jarrod joined him in front of the store, and handed him the hat. Heath had stood there staring from the hat to Jarrod and back again. Finally he had tried to hand it back to his brother with a shake of the head.

“I got me a hat. Man don’t got but one head, why should he have more than one hat.” He said. But, Jarrod refused to take the hat, putting his hands in his pockets and starting down the sidewalk toward the wagon. He smiled at Heath.

“While it’s true you only have one head, Brother Heath, that head has to be in many different places, and some of them warrant a slightly more refined topper. It will do you justice under any circumstances. Please keep it.” Jarrod had said. Heath had run his hand over the lightly curled brim once more, and looked up at Jarrod with a slight smile. He slipped off his old hat and put on the new one which fit him just right.

“Well, there ain’t many would know about justice as much as you do.” He dared to kid his older brother, and was rewarded by a spark of humor in the dark blue eyes. “Thank you Jarrod.” He added seriously. They had gone on to have lunch, the first they had shared together alone. It had been a good day. Heath had worn the hat a few times since then choosing his times carefully; a trip to church, a ride with Audra, a trip to Stockton with Mrs. Barkley. He didn’t dare wear it on the range where dirt and sweat would soon reduce it to the same state his current hat was in. He was gonna miss that new hat.

He went and sat down with his back against the large valley oak tree, and looked out over the portion of the valley he could see from here. His eyes moved across the rolling hills, already turning from verdant green to brown. The cows grazing in groups here and there, the huge oaks, their roots sent deep in the dry soil. As always when he stopped to really look at the land that was, by the grace of his family, partially his, he could only shake his head in amazement. It had seeped into his blood so quickly. He felt so……at home here. More so on the land than in that big house. He had started to believe that he could belong here, be a part of it, forever. He had almost believed that he could stay here, work here, grow here, and finally be buried here on this ground that had been his father’s. It was all a mirage though, like those he had seen in the desert. Everything seemed real, but there was no substance. And like the dying man in the desert seeing a mirage of water in the distance, Heath had come to the realization that this too was going to leave him thirsty, though not for water but for family.

He was going to have to leave. Cut off all connection. They would probably offer him money; they had done it before, or land somewhere. The Barkley’s had holdings in many parts of the west, and they could surely pick an isolated piece of real estate that they could use to exile the unfortunate result of Thomas Barkley’s indiscretion. But he would not accept. He had his pride, and he would go out with no more than he came with, other than what he had earned by his sweat and effort. He had kept his wages, extravagant amounts by any standards for a ranch hand, in a sock in the top drawer of the dresser in what he had considered, up until this morning, to be his room. It was a goodly sum, and would see him through a time, should he have any trouble getting a job. That shouldn’t be no problem though, he thought. He already had him an offer.

Jubal T Huckmeister, the miner who he had met at the last social that Audra had insisted on him attending, had been the one that offered him a job. It seemed they had mutual friends up in the Trinity Mountains where Jubal had come from. He could have assayed out in Redding, or in any number of towns between there and Stockton, but instead he had come all the way here, ostensibly to see his sister, and to throw off anyone who might get the idea of jumping his claim before it was filed should the assay play out like he thought it would. He had struck what looked like a very nice lens of ore up Frenchman’s Creek, north of the Trinity River, and he expected to be able to mine the ore out himself with no trouble. The trouble was getting the oar out of the claim and down to the nearest assayer and bank. That would be in Weaverville, over thirty miles as the crow flies in some very rough country. He planned to bring the ore out the only way possible, on donkey’s, but he needed men he could trust to make sure it made it to Weaverville. He had offered Heath a good amount of money to straw boss the men so to speak. Heath had turned him down, but had left the avenue open since Huckmeister would not be leaving for another two weeks. That two weeks was up tomorrow, and Huckmeister had approached Heath yesterday when they had been in town picking up the feed.

He had told the insistent man that he had a job, but that if he changed his mind he would meet Huckmeister to catch the North bound train at six o’clock in the morning on the day of departure. At the time he had told himself that he was just salving the old man’s feelings, letting him down gentle like. Instead he figured that he had been hiding what he knew to be true from himself. He had known even then that he would need to go. He had known since the dinner party, when Don Garcia had spoken so calmly of the value of bloodline, and had seen the way that Nick looked at Maria. It wasn’t that she wasn’t worth looking at. She was a mighty fine young woman, and she reminded him of Lupe, the Mexican girl he had known and loved for a while when he had been in Mexico. The two women’s stations in life could not have been more different, but their hair, skin and eyes were all the same. Lupe had been more…..worldly, and in her brown eyes there had been a knowledge that might never come to Maria unless she suffered a complete reversal of fortune. And that wasn’t likely to happen the way Nick had been looking at her.

In the time that Heath had been on the ranch he had come to get a fine reading on his brother’s character. One of the things he had first noticed was that once Nick decided he wanted something, then he damn well was gonna have it one way or the other. His brother didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. As far a Heath was concerned, what Nick wanted was Maria, and the fact that there was an inconvenient bastard hanging around was just an obstacle to be pushed aside like so much garbage. Oh, Nick would go along with the family in offering him something he was sure, even Nick knew that Victoria Barkley expected him to do what was right at all times, no matter what he might think personally, but it would be only a gesture for her sake. The other thing that Heath knew about Nick was how happy he would be to see Heath go. Heath had to smile at himself when he thought about that. In the last few months there had been several times when he had thought about leaving, but had not done so out of what his mama would have called pure contrariness. He wouldn’t leave because it would have given Nick too much satisfaction. But a change had come over him in the last while. He had come to realize that what Nick wanted had come to be important to him, too. He wanted Nick to be happy. He wasn’t sure when exactly that had happened. He knew though, that just as with the other members of the family, he would do anything that he could to make Nick happy. And marrying Maria was going to make Nick happy.

Sitting there against the tree Heath shook his head. It didn’t need looking at again. It was a simple thing. Nick, the family, needed him to be gone. Out of sight, out of mind. It wouldn’t go away overnight, but when it became clear that he wasn’t coming back it would quiet down, and after not too long there would be some other scandal, and everyone would forget. Time healed all wounds they said, and in the end the wound he had caused on the Barkley name would be gone. The Don could have no further objection to the marriage, and things would be as they were supposed to be. He wasn’t gonna stand in the way.

He stood and went back to mount Gal. If he pushed it he could finish this whole section. It would be one less thing to do, and since Nick would be one man short, he would appreciate that. Heath reined Gal over gently, and set her on the path paralleling the fence. He could at least enjoy this last day on the ranch he had come to love. Tonight he would enjoy the plentiful and delicious dinner that Silas would prepare. Afterwards they would all go into the parlor and he would play some checkers with Audra, and maybe some pool with Jarrod. He would sit at Mrs. Barkley’s side and read another chapter in that book that he would never finish now. Oliver Twist it was. He was sorry he wouldn’t know how it ended. The boy was in a bad spot now with the Fagin character. And that Bill fella, he was a bad one. You could see that right off. Nick would pretend he wasn’t there, like normal. Later he would go up to that small room that had been the first one he had ever had all to himself, and the soft feather bed that was like sleeping on a cloud. In the morning he would get up like regular around four or so, take his saddlebags out to the barn and saddle up Gal, and then come in and have some breakfast in the kitchen with Silas. Then he would go, taking only his memories. It was a pattern he had repeated over and over in his life. He didn’t know why he had thought that it would change now.

Chapter 9

Nick rode along the path to Don Garcia’s ranch and let the events of the last several days go through his mind. The killing of the bull was never far from his mind, and he still could hear Don Garcia saying that the Barkley blood was pure, and that his and Maria’s children would be good. He hadn’t liked how Garcia insinuated that being born out of wedlock by necessity made you bad. He had known several men who were bas…he found himself suddenly reluctant to say the word. When had that happened? The Lord knew he had thrown it at Heath a couple of times, and it hadn’t rattled him then. He felt that sense of shame rise in him again as he thought about that. He hadn’t really thought about how words could wound.

Now he had to decide what he was going to do if, as he suspected, Don Garcia had gotten wind of Heath’s parentage. Not that it was any of his business. Nick reminded himself. It was Barkley business, and the only ones that had any say in the matter was the family. Nick suddenly pulled Coco to a stop. The Barkley’s had already had their say in the matter, he realized. Everyone but him had voted for Heath to stay. Therefore, no matter what Garcia might say, Heath was a permanent fixture at the ranch, and for some reason, Nick found himself liking that idea more than he ever thought he would. The old man was just going to have to deal with it. Nick had, and it looked like he had finally reached some form of acceptance. The old man would too.

Nick continued down the path, and was soon riding into the ranch yard. It was quiet, with all the hands out on the range no doubt, as it should be back at the Barkley ranch. That thought made Nick remember how he had found that Heath had already ridden out that morning, sometime during breakfast. He had been seen by one of the hands heading west, and Nick supposed he had gone off to ride the western fence line, as had been the plan. He had regretted not getting to speak to the boy, but maybe it was for the best given the circumstances. He swung down from Coco, and tied the reins loosely around the hitching rail in front of the house. There was plenty of shade, and this early in the day the heat had not yet built up. The horse would do well here, and be near at hand if Nick needed to make a quick exit. He wondered briefly why he was planning such an exit, but decided not to examine that thought too closely.

The servant let him in as usual and led him to Don Garcia’s study. Another stray thought reminded Nick that if Don Garcia had his way this would be his study. He snorted quietly to himself, as if that was going to happen. He found himself getting into what Jarrod always called his ‘defiant’ mood. His elder brother claimed that whenever Nick was in this mood that he might as well talk to a brick wall since Nick was not going to be swayed by any argument no matter how practical or logical. Nick preferred to think of it as being steadfast in his decisions. He stood as Don Garcia entered the room and sat again as the older man waved him back to the chair.

“I am sorry for the tone of the summons I sent to you Nicholas, but a matter has come to my attention that I feel must be addressed immediately.” Don Garcia said with no preamble. He seated himself behind the big desk, and sat forward toward Nick. “Constanza was in town last night, in a saloon, and he heard a rumor. A rumor that I am sure cannot be true. It is unthinkable for any family of the standing that yours has attained to allow such a thing. Always there are ugly rumors spread by the envious against those that have more. I am sure that this is one such rumor.”

Nick shifted in his chair. He didn’t doubt what Constanza had heard, but he had to ask anyway. “And what exactly did this rumor have to say about my family, Don Garcia?”

“It was said that your younger brother, the one called Heath, is not your full brother, but a….a….product of a sinful act between your father and a woman not his wife.” Nick could see the disgust in Garcia’s face at the thought. “A whore in a mining town.” Garcia sprang to his feet and started to pace. “There are needs a man has, that I understand. But to accept the results of such a thing into one’s house….it is unthinkable.” He spun to face Nick “This is how I know it must be a rumor No man of the standing of your father would do such a thing. No woman of class, no good Christian woman, such as your mother, would accept such a …a.. an animal into her home, near her daughter, her children. Your brother, a lawyer of much repute, would never allow such things, and I am sure that you would never allow one such as that to claim any part of your ranch. This rumor must be stopped immediately.”

Nick sat in the chair staring at Garcia for several moments, the words echoing in his head, ‘product of a sinful act’, ‘no good Christian woman’, ‘a lawyer of much repute’. They spun in his mind like a dust devil dancing across the range in the late summer heat. The man had managed to insult just about every member of his family in that one sentence, and he was now waiting for Nick to refute the ‘rumor’. He shook his head. “And what if I told you that this rumor might not be a rumor?” he asked, meeting Garcia’s dark eyes.

The older man shook his head and waved a hand in that slicing motion that Nick had seen him use to cut off Constanza. “Are you saying that these lies are the truth, that the man I dined with, that I allowed my daughter to speak with as a future brother is a ……” he stopped short of using the word, but Nick could hear it anyway. He was becoming very tired of that word.

“Illegitimate. The word is illegitimate.” Nick suggested with a growl, and rose to his feet, where he towered over the older man. “And for your information, my mother, who is the finest, classiest, most Christian woman in this whole state, insisted that Heath be allowed to stay in her home. My brother, who is a very good lawyer, also insisted that Heath stay, and has filed papers legally changing his name to Barkley. My sister and my other brother Gene also agreed that he should stay and they enjoy his company. My family has decided that Heath is entitled to an equal share of the ranch and all the Barkley assets, just like the rest of us. So, if that is the gist of the rumor that Constanza heard, then yeah, it’s the truth.” He said firmly, ignoring his own attitude about his brother for the last months, it didn’t matter now, not in the face of this. No one, not even the father of the woman he wanted to marry, was going to make less of a member of his family, even if he himself wasn’t quite ready to welcome that member with open arms.

“So you are saying that you agree that this……man should be allowed to move among us. To associate with my daughter, with decent people?”

Nick barely kept his anger in check, but he forced it down, thinking who this man was. “What I’m telling you,” He ground out through clenched teeth. “Is what my family has decided. What you or anyone else thinks about it really doesn’t matter. It’s a private matter for my family only.”

“No, Senor. It is not just for your family because you would bring my daughter into contact with this man. Your shame will be come her shame, and her shame mine. There are people that will not speak to her, because she is married into a family that has done such an unthinkable thing. Is this what you want for my daughter, for your wife?” Garcia demanded.

“What I want for Maria has nothing to do with my brother! I want her to be my wife, and that has nothing to do with anything else.” Nick said.

“I disagree. You would not allow your sister to marry into a family that would do her harm. Why would you expect me to allow my daughter to marry into your family where her reputation will be harmed? You do not lay down with dogs without arising with fleas my young friend. You will have to learn that the hard way it seems.” Garcia said, returning to his seat.

“So what are you saying?” Nick demanded, staying on his feet and crossing his arms across his chest.

Garcia steepled his hands in front of him, he raised an eyebrow. “I would have thought it was clear. I will not allow my daughter to be allied with a family that could allow such a thing.”

“You won’t allow!” Nick growled, moving forward to lean part of the way across the big desk. “That’s something between me and Maria. She’s 21, and that makes her legally able to make her own decision. If she decides she don’t want to marry me that is one thing, but you don’t get no vote.”

Don Garcia was back on his feet. “Maria will do what I say! She is my daughter.”

“I think we should get her in here and ask her what she thinks.” Nick suggested. AS he did so the door to the study opened and Maria rushed in.

“Your voices can be heard all through the house. Must you yell like drunken cowboys on Saturday night? What is going on?” she asked, looking from Nick to her father.

“This is not your concern Maria.” Her father said, coming around from behind the desk and taking her arm. He started to lead her back toward the door. Nick stepped in front of them, stopping their progress.

“Your father thinks that he can make a decision about who you can and can’t associate with, and who you will and won’t be marrying. I say it’s up to you. What do you say?” he asked.

She looked again from her father to Nick. “What is going on? What is this all about? Papa?” She entreated him.

“There are some people that you should not associate with. You are aware of this. I brought you up to understand the importance of bloodlines and the honor of a family, of THIS family. You will do as I say in this matter. If the Barkley family will not change their minds, then there will be no wedding.”

“But…” Maria started to say, only to be cut off by Nick.

“Are you telling me that you expect me, and my family, to choose between my wife and my brother?” He yelled, not caring that he was in someone else’s house.

Before Garcia could answer Maria turned to Nick. “Choose between me and your brother? Why ever would that be necessary? I do not understand?”

Garcia grabbed her arm and dragged her back toward the door. “You do not need to understand. It is not for the ears of one such as you. Well bred ladies do not speak of, or acknowledge, such things.” He said, taking her into the hall. Maria heard Nick growl in the study, and he came stomping out after them. He spoke directly to Maria, ignoring Don Garcia’s glare.

“I think we better stop this conversation now, before someone says something that can’t be taken back.” He said, seeing the puzzlement in her eyes. He wanted to tell her what was going on, but could see that Garcia was not going to allow it right then. He would have to figure out a way to speak to her later, alone. He took her free hand and bowed over it, and then with a last glare at Don Garcia he stomped out of the house, barely pausing to take his hat from the servant at the door. He was soon outside and on Coco, heading toward the Barkley ranch. He found that he could not wait to get back on that familiar ground. If any other man had dared to imply that his mother and sister weren’t well bred he would have punched them in the nose, regardless of the age difference, but as Maria’s father he was giving him more latitude than usual.

As soon as he was out of the ranch yard he spurred Coco in to a canter then a gallop, and soon they were flying across the range, the wind blowing past at fantastic speed, Coco might be getting on in years, but he could still put on the speed. Nick rode for almost ten minutes, then mindful of the horse’s needs pulled him down to a walk. Coco snorted in consternation at being held back, but after dancing around finally started forward again. Nick realized where his hasty ride had led him, and he was soon tying Coco to the small white fence that ringed the grave of Thomas Barkley. He strode to a point where he was standing at the end of the grave, looking at the headstone. He stood there, arms crossed on his chest, just staring for long minutes, then let out a gust of air.

“Well you’ve done it up fine haven’t you?” He said, speaking to the headstone. “It wasn’t bad enough that you betrayed Mother. Betrayed Jarrod and I. You had to make it so that everyone would be miserable right down the line.” He started pacing back and forth in a short path beside the grave, unable to stand still. His mind was spinning. “And then there’s him….Heath…….my brother. Look what you did to him. You left him in a mining town with only his mother to raise him. Lord knows what that was like.” Nick had been thinking about that recently. He really didn’t want to, but his mind seemed determined to imagine what it must have been like. Then there was the report that Jarrod had gotten.

He had refused to read it when Jarrod had first revealed that he had it. Nick had known that Jarrod had read it, and that their mother had too, but he had told himself that he wasn’t interested. Whatever that report said, the boy wasn’t his brother, wasn’t a son of Tom Barkley, wasn’t a symbol of the betrayal by the man that Nick esteemed above all others. The boy would be gone soon, Nick would see to that. But as the months went by it became clear that there was a wide streak of stubborn in Heath, and that the family had not changed their minds about the boy. Nick found himself becoming more and more curious about the younger man. Some of the things that Jarrod alluded to, or that brought a sad look to his mother’s eyes when they looked on Heath, had made Nick wonder.

Finally about a month ago he had found himself in the study late one night, unable to sleep after a day of tension and fighting with Heath. Jarrod was in San Francisco and everyone else was in bed. He had opened the safe and easily found the file. He had settled in at Jarrod’s desk, and had sat for a long time simply staring at the closed file. Finally he had reached out and opened it. Once he had begun reading he hadn’t stopped, until he looked up to find that dawn was only two hours away, and his heart was nearly breaking. He wouldn’t have wished that childhood on his worst enemy. To think that the boy who faced down his tirades so calmly, who gave as good as he got when it came to fists, had gone through all that……Nick had tried to put it out of his mind, but every time he saw his new brother, something from that report would come back to him. It was disconcerting. Now, faced by the prejudice that his brother had suffered through his whole life, Nick had come to face the man that he had finally come to blame for it all, or at least to face his grave, which was all that was left to him.

“You and his mama didn’t think about that did you? When you were breaking your wedding vows. You didn’t think about anyone but you. I didn’t realize you were such a selfish man. Of course maybe that explains why I’m thinking such selfish thoughts right now. I inherited it from you. Because do you know what I’m thinking father? Can you tell from wherever you are?” Nick asked looking up into the sky. He waved an arm to encompass the ranch around them.

“I’m thinking that even with all this, with everything I have, with everything I’ve always had, and with everything HE didn’t have, I’m thinking that if he just WASN’T here, I could have Maria and everything would be good. THAT’S what I’m thinking, and God does it make me ashamed!” He sank to his knees next to his father’s grave, one hand going out to mindlessly clutch at a handful of the grass that grew there. “I want her, like I haven’t wanted anyone before,” he glanced at the headstone, “Like you must have wanted HIS mother. I want to say the hell with everything else, and just do whatever I have to do to get her. But……that would make me like you!”

He hung his head and stared at the grass for a moment, then looked back up at the headstone, and spoke in a softer tone. “I always wanted to be like you. You were the best: the best rancher, the best husband, the best father, just…the best everything. You were everything I wanted to be, and…….What do you know, here I am being like you. Bet that makes you proud, don’t it? But you know what father? I can’t just do what you did, and pretend that there wasn’t any problem. That HE doesn’t exist.”

“The rest of the family, they want him….love him. And me…..I….as much as I have fought it, as much as I have fought him, I want him here too. He is your son. I accept that…finally. He deserves part of this, just like the rest of us do, and maybe more since he didn’t have what we did growing up. He’s a damn fine rancher, maybe one of the best cowboys I’ve ever seen, and you should see him with horses. He’s got the touch with them. He don’t think much of me right now. Can’t really say I blame him for that.” He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh.

“So here I am with a brother that I want to get to know and a woman that I want to make my wife, and there’s a possibility that I can’t do both. What do I do father? Do I fight for Maria? Defy her father and make her choose between us. Do I tell the family that I can’t marry the woman I love because of the choice they, we, made to take in your son, my brother? That would make everyone feel real good wouldn’t it?” Nick said, knowing that neither course was open to him. He couldn’t hurt Maria by asking her to defy her father, or his family by being so blunt as to come right out and say anything about Heath. He had heard the saying “between a rock and a hard place” before, but had not really understood the implications.

He looked at his father’s headstone, and saw no miracle answer there. There was no help to be had here. He would have to solve this on his own. He rose to his feet, brushing off his pants, and with a last glance around went to Coco and mounted. He would go and immerse himself in the work that he had planned to do today. Maybe as he sweated in the sun an answer would come to him as it had in the past. Sometimes just taking your mind off a problem was enough to make you think better. It was something his father had often reminded him when he was trying to solve problems at school or on the ranch. Maybe it would work now. He hoped so.

Many hours later Nick finished brushing Coco and was wondering if he had time for a bath, when he heard a horse in the yard. It was late, and the rest of the hands were already in, and he assumed that heath had come in earlier. Looking out the window he saw Heath dismounting from his little black horse, and leading her to the trough. As Nick watched Heath pumped fresh water into the trough for the horse and then waited while she drank. He looked around, and then squinted up at the sun with a shake of his head. In the predinner quiet of the yard Nick could hear the quiet comment that he was sure meant only for the horse.

“Looks like we’re running late little Gal. Not gonna get no bath tonight. Might as well use the trough with you. Cold water is cold water no matter if it’s in a fancy bathtub or a horse trough.” As Nick watched Heath looked around, obviously not seeing Nick in the darkness of the barn window. The boy took of his old battered hat, Nick found himself wondering why he didn’t use the new one that Jarrod had gotten him, and then started unbuttoning his shirt. Nick was about to move on when Heath pulled the shirt off and gave it a shaking, and then laid it over the saddle. He turned toward the trough, and that is when Nick saw them.

White scar tissue criss-crossed the slim back, standing out starkly against the tan of the rest of the skin. This was no casual beating. This was the result of a calculated attempt to peel the flesh off the back of a man, one lash at a time. No, Nick corrected himself, not off a man, off a boy. Nick felt his stomach protest at the sight, and his mind flashed back to the report he had read. Months in Carterson prison at the age of 14, no food, no clean water, death all around, and beatings that had flayed the child’s back. Nick tried to remember what he had been doing at fourteen. He could only recall long boring days at school, broken by joyous days spent on the ranch with his father, riding, roping, and learning. No paddling that he had ever earned had hurt him half as much as one of those lashes that had left the scars he knew that. He felt a wetness forming his eyes, and had to blink rapidly. That was his brother out there and he had been beaten so badly that his back still showed the scars 10 years later. And Nick hadn’t been there to protect him, or even to comfort him after. He felt an unfamiliar sense of failure wash over him. He knew it was irrational, he hadn’t even known about Heath then, but still…

Nick continued watching as Heath finished washing and slipped the shirt back on, then the hat. He knew Heath would be coming in soon, and moved away from the window. He stepped back into Coco’s stall, and despite an inquiring look from the gelding started brushing him again. He didn’t look around as he heard Heath lead Gal into the barn. He thought he heard a pause in the now familiar step, but Heath was soon leading the small black horse into the next stall. Heath glanced at Nick and nodded in greeting, turning almost immediately to strip off the saddle and blanket from his horse. He did not seem to be inclined to speak, but then he never did. Nick made a show of finishing the brushing and laid the brush down where Heath could reach it, knowing that it would be the next step the boy would take.

Heath looked over at the movement, and caught sight of the brush. He nodded again in acknowledgment, and Nick figured that if there were to be any speech between them at all it would have to be at his instigation. He went and leaned against the edge of the stall, watching as with an economy of effort the boy settled the horse for the night. He was smooth and easy with the horse, and she was soon munching hay from the manger as Heath brushed the dust from her coat. Coco was never so restive, Nick reflected. He cleared his throat, and he saw Heath glance at him again out of the corner of his eye. It was a wary glance, and Nick regretted that.

“You did part of the Western fences today.” He asked, trying to make his voice pleasant.

“All of it.” Heath said, shortly, not pausing in his brushing.

“All…” Nick started to say in his regular loud voice then stopped as he saw the boy’s shoulders tense. He stopped and took a breath. “That’s one long day’s ride.” He said non-commitally, and saw the blue eyes glance his way again. “Nice to have it finished. Is there a lot of work needs done out there?”

The broad shoulders shrugged. “Here and there. I wrote it all down. I’ll go over it with Duke tonight after dinner.” Heath said. Nick grimaced behind his back. Obviously the boy didn’t want to talk with Nick.

“Why don’t you tell me now. It’s too late for a bath, and too early to go in. Can you recall what needs to be done, or do you gotta look at your notes?” He asked. He was going to get the boy talking if it killed him. He needed to have a normal conversation with his brother. He needed to feel a connection.

This time Heath turned his head and looked at him dead on for a moment before resuming his work. For a minute Nick thought he was going to refuse to talk, then the boy started talking about what needed to be done. Nick was impressed by the amount of detail and the thought that went into it all. In the end, by the time the black horse was completely brushed and all fixed for the night, he knew how much wire and how many posts he would need, and how many men would need to be assigned. As the two men walked toward the house in a companionable silence, he reflected that it was one of the longest, calmest, and most informative conversations he had ever had with his brother. He found himself looking forward to more conversations like it, and hoped that Heath did too.

He was just going to have to find a way to make everything work. He didn’t want to give up Maria, and he found himself equally unwilling to give up on this new brother. He had given it a lot of thought through out the day as he worked. He had resolved that he would go back to Don Garcia’s house tomorrow, and talk to both Maria, and Don Garcia. Surely once Nick sat down and really explained the situation, how it had been for his father, how it had been for Heath, what an asset the boy would be to the Barkley holdings, Don Garcia would see reason. He was sure that Maria would back him, and surely the old man would not forbid her if she really wanted to marry Nick in spite of it all. With a new sense of having all things under control, Nick reached out and put a hand on Heath’s shoulder for a moment, as he might have done with Jarrod or Eugene. He didn’t miss the quick almost startled look that came across Heath’s face, followed by a small crooked smile. Yes indeed, things were going to work out.

Chapter 10

The next morning Heath was up and moving before the sky had even begun to light. Not that it took much effort since he had slept very little. Even that had been shattered by dreams unlike any he had had since he had gotten out of Carterson. For some reason this parting, while simply another in the long list that seemed to be his life, was harder than anything he had ever done. He carefully packed his saddle bags, hesitating over the newer items that had been added to his wardrobe at the insistence of his…. no; he had to stop that thinking…at the insistence of the Barkley family. The hat he left on the top of the bureau. It was like new, and they might even be able to take it back to the store. The outer cloths, pants and shirts he left folded on the bed, they had been worn a lot, and he knew they couldn’t go back, but they might be able to donate them, or maybe keep them for a hand that needed them. The rest he reluctantly added to his saddlebags, not that he wasn’t glad to have them, but he didn’t want anyone to think he had come only for the things.

He really shouldn’t concern himself with what they thought about him once he was gone, but he found himself wanting them to think kindly of him, if they thought of him at all. There was every possibility that it would be a case of ‘out of sight out of mind’. He was sure that Nick wouldn’t waste no time thinking about him. The thought of his brother seemed to conjure up the memory of the day before, and meeting Nick in the barn.

He had been surprised to say the least to find Nick still there in the barn when he returned. He had been late, having pushed himself to make sure the whole length of the western fences was done. It would save time for whomever they hired to do his work. He wasn’t gonna be leaving them short handed and over worked if he could help it. He had rode into the yard, and stopped at the trough to water Gal. A glance at the sun had shown him that there was no way he was going to get a bath in, even if Nick had finished with the tub. He had looked around and found himself alone, and had decided that he would wash in the trough. After all cold water was cold water, didn’t matter where it was. It was actually rather refreshing as he washed the dirt off his upper body and then slipped back into his shirt. He then led gal into the bar, and was heading for her stall when he saw movement in the stall next to hers. It was Nick, brushing Coco.

He had almost stopped, then had kept going and led the horse into the stall. He had decided to simply go about his work, and assumed that Nick would complete what he was doing and move on himself. However, Nick had come to lean on the wall near him, and they had one of the first civil conversations that they had ever engaged in. Nick had seemed almost…..pleased with his work. It was a new feeling for Heath. No resentment, no anger. He had completed his work on Gal, and they had started for the house together, that is when it had happened.

They had been walking along toward the house pretty much side by side, when all of a sudden Nick had put his hand on Heath’s shoulder. It hadn’t been an act of aggression or anger. It was a companionable thing, a move he had seen Nick make with Jarrod and Eugene. It was something that he had never imagined Nick doing to him. He had almost flinched from under it, had almost reacted in haste and struck it aside. Instead he stood beneath it, and felt the heavy weight of it, the strength, the …….familiarity. He had never known the touch of any family besides his mother. Even here, only Audra really touched him. She was always holding on to his arm, taking his hand, patting his shoulder. It was her way, open and loving. He had noticed that all of the Barkley’s were touchers, sharing a hug, a gentle touch, a pat on the back, but not with him, never with him. He thought that was perhaps his fault. He hadn’t exactly been welcoming when it came to much of anything that a normal family did. He knew what it was like to have his mother touch him.

She had loved to run her fingers through his hair and down his neck. He could still remember how she had been so amused when he had shown up after one of his longer absences, spent in the mountains with a trapper, his hair to his shoulders and a thin beard on his cheeks. She had run her fingers through it and told him what a pretty girl he would have made. He thought now that with the long blond hair he had probably looked even more like Audra than he did now. She had cut it for him, and had kept one of the blond locks in her special box.

He hadn’t been familiar with the casual touches that a family exchanged, and had been standoffish he was sure. He enjoyed Audra’s touches, had come to envy the ease with which the others touched, and hadn’t realized how much he had wanted it himself. Now, it had come not from Jarrod, or Eugene, but the one person he would have said would never touch him with anything approaching warmth. Of course, there was a dark side to the whole thing. Here was Nick, finally seeming to come to a point where maybe they didn’t need to pound each other to pieces each day, and now he was leaving. Wasn’t that just like his luck? Just one more thing to make it even harder to leave than it already was. Fate really had it in for him it seemed. Sometimes when these things happened to him he almost believed all the things people had said about him being the spawn of the devil, the product of sin. He liked to think he was a good man, and it seemed that sometime, somewhere he would get a break.

He shook his head. It wasn’t no time to be thinking like that. If he got to feeling sorry for himself he would not be able to do this. It was bad enough that he was sneakin’ off like some thief or something. He wasn’t gonna sulk about it too. He was a Barkley damn it, even if he would never refer to himself as such again once he left. He would leave with his head held high, and be proud of his blood and his family, and soothe the ache within with the thought that this was what the family needed, what Nick needed. He wrapped the picture of his mother in a piece of soft buckskin and put it in the saddlebags. That being the final item he closed the bags and threw them over his shoulder. He took one last look around the room. He had never had his own before, and things really didn’t look to be changing any in the future. He sighed, and turned to the door. He stepped quietly into the hall and closed the door. He went down the sweeping stairs and after picking up his gun and hat from the hall table. He then went into the gunroom and got his rifle out of the cabinet where it rested next to the fancy English guns that Jarrod and Nick favored. They were beautiful weapons, but the old forty-four had kept him alive for years and he trusted it.

He took the rifle and saddlebags out to the barn, where he lit a lantern, keeping the fire low. He saddled Gal who stamped a foot in anger at being wakened so early.

“Getting’ soft are ya, Gal? That’s gonna have to change,” Heath murmured to her as he fastened the cinch. He left it loose, as he was not planning on leaving for at least an hour, and he did not want her to be uncomfortable. He paused before he left, then put a couple of scoops of oats in her manager. She was gonna have to make do with forage from now on, and she might as well have one last good meal out of it. She had gotten fat and sassy, even with the hard work. He was sorry that he had to take her from it. She had given him so many years of devotion, and he had thought that he might be able to give her the quiet retirement that she deserved, but as with his mother it seemed he was going to fail her as well. He left his gun belt and rifle there in the stall, along with his hat. He patted her flank and after blowing out the lamp went back to the house, entering soundlessly through the front and going back upstairs.

He didn’t go into his room, that part of his life was closed to him now, but instead went down the back stairs into the kitchen as if he were just coming down for the first time. As he suspected Silas was working in the biscuit dough and humming softly to himself. Heath smiled at the older man and got one in return then went to get himself a cup of coffee. He sat at the table as was his habit, and sipped the coffee watching Silas go about his preparations. When Silas began humming again, Heath found himself humming along, remembering Hannah humming the same tune as she cooked. Once Silas had rolled and cut the dough for the biscuits he put one small pan of them in the oven and set the rest them aside to rise covered by a clean cloth and sat down with Heath with his own cup of coffee.

“You know, me and your daddy used to sit like this some time. Early in the morning when he couldn’t sleep no more from worryin’ about some thing or the other, back when he was first buildin’ this ranch. He would get up so he didn’t be disturbin’ Mrs. Barkley, what her takin' care of the babies and all, and we would have us some coffee and talk some about what he planned to do. There were some that said he couldn’t do it, that he’d go crawling back East, but I knew that he would do it, that they would do it, him and her. They was just that kind of folk.” Silas smiled and shook his head in remembrance, then looked at Heath. “You that kind of folk to Heath. What you want to do is what you gonna do. Don’t you be letting’ no one stop you, even your brother. He’ll come around in the end.”

Heath nodded, flushing a little at the compliment, but not correcting the older man’s supposition about why he was up earlier than usual. He was gonna miss Silas. They had become fast friends, and Heath had come to count on the older man’s wisdom, humor, and kindness to salve some of the soul deep wounds he had come here with, and some that he gained while here. If it had not been for Silas, there would have been many more fights with Nick, and with the others that had made his life one form of hell. The old slave had reminded him that there were worse things than words, and that while they hurt, they didn’t hurt near as much as some things did.

Silas rose and took the biscuits from the oven putting them in a basket covered with a napkin to keep their heat. He brought them to the table and then brought a small bowl of butter and some honey. The two men helped themselves to a hot biscuit and slathered them with the fresh butter and honey. They were silent as they ate, both enjoying the simple meal. Both had gotten by with far less, and enjoyed what they had all the more for it. When they had eaten all the biscuits Heath rose reluctantly to his feet. He was going to have to get going if he was to make the train. He looked at Silas.

“Won’t be here for breakfast Silas. I gotta head to the south range. We’re surveyin’ the fences and that’s the next section. Reckon I should get a good start on it early this morning and then I can be back here for lunch.” He said, not meeting the dark eyes. Silas nodded, knowing how Heath was trying to do the work that was needed before Nick mentioned it. He thought it was a good tactic, since Nick respected a good worker. He could only hope that the respect would grow into something more brotherly. He moved quickly to the cutting board where a ham was sitting, waiting to be carved and then fried for breakfast. He cut off two pieces and quickly made two sandwiches with some fresh bread. He wrapped them in some oilcloth and handed them the Heath, The younger man took the bundle and stood looking down at it for several moments, and then looked up, his eyes meeting Silas’.

“Thank you Silas. You take better care of me than anyone since my Mama.” He said simply, meaning far more than he could say, and regretting that he could not be honest with the older man. He knew Silas would be hurt at the step he was taking, but he thought he would understand. With a final smile he left the kitchen and headed out to the hall. He stopped and glanced into the parlor, and then slipped into Jarrod’s study. Jarrod had been called into Stockton last night, something about a sudden development on a case he was working on. He knew that Jarrod was not due back until tonight some time, and it was unlikely that anyone would be in here until then. Should be plenty of time. He took an envelope out of his vest pocket and lay it on the big desk. The family needed some sort of explanation, and this was all he could think of.

He then went back out and went into the parlor. The soft light from the kerosene lamp that Silas had lit made an island in the room, and shed just enough light to see the picture over the fireplace. Heath stood there, staring up at the huge picture of the man that had been his father, Tom Barkley. Heath could not imagine what the man would have thought about him, or about what he had chosen to do. He had been creating a picture of Tom Barkley in his mind, taken from the stories of his different family members. He had not yet become a ‘real’ person to him. He was still larger than life, and still was the focus of the anger that burned in Heath’s belly, that had burned there since he had first understood the meaning of the word ‘bastard’.

“You and me. We sure are a pair ain’t we? You hurt your family by goin’ off and I hurt them by hangin’ round.” He observed to the portrait. “They all say that we are a lot alike, our manners, our walk, even the way I laugh, but I gotta tell you I don’t see it. There you are all proper and respectable, in spite of it all, and then there’s me. I had no part of the doin’ but I get to live with the consequences. You’ll forgive me if I say it don’t seem fair to me.” He shrugged. “Don’t matter no more I guess though. You’re gone and are still the big man in the valley, and I’ll be gone. Outta sight, outta mind. That’s what they say. You’ll get even more respectable and I’ll be gone.” He turned and headed toward the doorway. Once there he turned and gave a wave of his hand to the portrait. It was perhaps a trick of the light that he swore the picture was frowning all of a sudden.

He gathered up his hat and turned to look around the foyer, the highly polished floor, and the sweeping staircase. It had been the fanciest place he had ever seen when Nick had dragged him in here. Not that he had lots of time to look around then. But since then the fascination had not worn off. It still struck him every time he saw it. Now, looking upon it for the last time he was glad he had been given the chance to see it, now he knew what high class was and that it wasn’t just money that made something classy. He put his hat on and started for the door. He stepped outside, and could see that the sun was just now lighting the eastern sky. He would be in Stockton in plenty of time to load Gal on the horse car and join the old miner in boarding the train. Without looking around he pulled the door quietly closed behind him. Taking a deep breath, allowing his eyes to travel over the ranch yard as he did so, he felt the ache building in his chest.

How he was going to miss this ranch, the horses, the land itself. It was everything any ranch hand had ever imagined, and for a time, it had been partly his. He knew that wherever life took him, whatever fate had planned for him, there would be no other place like this. No other place that called to him in such a way. He wanted more than anything to stay, to be a part of it, of them. He closed his eyes for a moment and fought down the little voice that was yelling at him to stay. Then he raised his chin and strode forward, determined to do this in an adult fashion. He could not make the family ask him to leave. They didn’t deserve the distress that would cause them. He was quickly in the barn and tightening the cinch on Gal. He had to jab her stomach with his knee to get her to release the breath she was holding. She liked to fool with him sometimes and try to keep him from tightening the cinch far enough. He had seen other horses do it, and knew they could be trained not too, but she seemed to enjoy the game, so he left it be. He put the rifle in the sheath and checked the bedroll and saddlebags. Everything was ready, and he knew that he was just wasting time, not wanting to leave, but he had to go. He led Gal outside the barn, and swung up on her back, disdaining the use of the left stirrup. He sat there looking around one last time in the faint light of the morning, and then turned her head toward the road leading to town. As they moved out of the ranch yard, and he knew that the barns and the distance would muffle the sound, he gave her the signal to move up to a trot and then a gallop. Once again he didn’t look back.

It seemed to take him lest time than usual to make it into Stockton, but then, time seemed to be on fate’s side this day, determined to make this leaving the worst of those he had endured. He decided to ride around town to the train station, instead of going through. He didn’t want to be seen, and while it was not likely that Jarrod was awake and out of his hotel room, there was always the possibility that someone that knew the Barkley’s would mention something about seeing his bastard brother taking a train outta town. He had found that while people might disdain his presence, his every action seemed to be fodder for the gossips. Always seemed to him that if they really didn’t want to think about him, then they shouldn’t oughta talk about him all the time. But that was just him.

He dismounted at the station, and was happy to see Jubal T Huckmeister waiting near the horse car with his burro, Elspeth. The ramp was down, and Huckmeister and the station wrangler were trying to convince the burro that she wanted to get aboard. The animal was having none of it. Heath felt a small smile cross his face. Burros sure had them a mind of their own for all their small size, though Elspeth was large for her breed. Heath led Gal over and captured Huckmeister’s attention.

“Heath my boy!” the old man almost yelled. He came over, and grabbing Heath’s hand, started pumping it up and down. “Wasn’t sure if you was going to make it or not. I done heard that you got you a pretty cushy place with the Barkleys out there.” He said. Heath could hear the curiosity in the old man’s voice, but also knew that the miner would not be so bold as to ask outright if Heath did not volunteer. It was the way of those that lived in the wild places. A man could keep to himself what he would. Only his actions would speak for him in the end, not his past. Heath shrugged in answer and the old miner nodded in understanding. He waved a hand at the burro.

“Come time we can get Elspeth on board we can load up your horse and get to moving, it being the time and all. Got my horse on already, but Elspeth is having none of it.” He said. Heath nodded and led Gal up the ramp with no protest at all. He quickly removed the saddle and put it in the small stall where he knew she would protect it. He took his saddlebags and the rifle with him, and handed them to Huckmeister.

“Let me try my hand at her.” He said as the old man looked at him with a frown.

“Good luck to you.” Huckmeister said. “She’s always stubborn, but she got used to standing in that livery stable, and she is not ready to be going back to walkin’ the mountains again.” He watched as the younger man approached the burro, ready to laugh as another man fell before her stubbornness.

Heath went over and stood next to the burro. She swung her large head around and looked at him with one mild brown eye. She twitched one of her long ears at him, as if she was willing to listen. He reached out and scratched her between the ears and then down her neck. She leaned a little in his direction. He whispered in her ear, and she shook her head at him. He smiled a little at her, and whispered some more. Finally she gave a nod, and with no lead at all she moved to the ramp and climbed up it fearlessly into the horse car. She looked back over her shoulder at the hostler, who stood at the bottom of the ramp with his mouth hanging open, as if to say “What’s the hold up?” The young man shook his head, and went up the ramp himself, and led the burro into the small stall for her. Outside Huckmeister slapped his knee, and then went over and pounded Heath on the back.

“I knew you were a good man when I saw you, boyo, and that cinches it. I never known anyone could sweet talk Elspeth like that. She’s a fine judge of character, and if she don’t like you, then there’s something wrong with you.” He crowed. The bell in the train’s engine began ringing, a sign that they needed to board themselves. Huckmeister led Heath toward the day car, handing back his saddlebags and rifle.

“We’ll be in Redding by night time. Reckon we’ll spend the night there and then go on up to Shasta in the morning. I figure we can get the men and mules and be on the way by the end of tomorrow. Course you’ll have to find some men. I got me the teamsters I need to move the mules, men I trust, but I didn’t know nothing about hiring the guards. I figure that if I’d leave that to someone who knows people a bit better than I do. Don’t want to get shot by someone I hired to keep me from it.”

“I’ll do my best.” Heath said. “It might be best to see who we can find in Redding. I know some men from that area; I used to work a ranch in Corning south of there. I know some men that might just be willing to work for you, that we can trust, and they’ll know others.”

“Sounds good.” Huckmeister got on the car and found a seat. Heath sat in the seat opposite, putting his saddlebags and rifle in the rack above the seat. He looked out the window, barely listening as Huckmeister went through what he needed to do before they went back out to his claim. Since it mainly seemed to be shopping for supplies. Heath just nodded in appropriate places as he let his eyes drift down the street. He could not see Jarrod’s office from here, but he knew where it was. He had gotten used to this town, had enjoyed some beers in the saloons, had bought supplies in the stores, and had gone to church. He had walked the streets proudly, despite the whispers that sometimes followed him. Here, for the first time in his life he had walked the streets of a town with a name.

He felt a prickle at the back of his eyes, and blinked rapidly, drawing in a lungful of air. He shook his head a little. He wasn’t a little boy no more, able to cry out the pain that grew in his chest. He would do this like a man, like a Barkley. His last act as one of them. He had boarded this train as Heath Barkley. Only Heath Thompson would get off in Redding. Heath Barkley would be no more. He would be only a memory in the minds of those into whose lives he had crossed. He didn’t expect that he would be fondly remembered by most. He was shaken from his thoughts as the train gave a jolt, and then moved out of the station. The town was quickly behind them, and they moved through the rolling hills that would be their company until they reached Redding where the Siskiyous and the Cascade Range rose on either side of the small town at the end of the northbound line. Huckmeister had become quiet, seemingly happy to slump down and grab a little more shuteye after having gotten up early to catch the train. Heath took one last look back along the line at the rapidly disappearing town, and closed his own eyes. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, but this way he didn’t have to watch it all go.

Chapter 11

Jarrod Barkley had risen at what his brother Nick would have considered the decadent hour of Eight AM, after only six hours of sleep. He had worked into the small hours of the morning, completing a brief for submission to the court this morning. His clerk would have taken care of that, and Jarrod was now sitting at a table in the Cattleman’s café, the remains of a large breakfast in front of him, reading the paper. He did not have to appear in court on the matter until tomorrow, and if the brief did its work might not have to appear at all. It suited him, though he loved his work. He finished the last article of interest and folded the paper, laying it beside his empty plate. He then pulled out his wallet and paid his bill, leaving a tip for the waitress. He sauntered out onto the sidewalk, meaning to go to his office, but stopped when he heard his name called. He turned to find Dr Merar, the family physician and friend, approaching. He smiled and waved a hand.

“Doctor,” Jarrod observed, “ you are out early this morning. Did duty already call?”

“Duty not only called, Jarrod,” the doctor replied with a tired smile, “It yelled in a most persistent way. Mrs. Blake had her son at around five thirty this morning, and evidently, not wanting to be left behind her sister, Mrs. Herrald, had hers about thirty minutes ago after several hours in labor. Mother’s and children are fine, and I feel as if I haven’t slept for a week.”

Jarrod patted the doctor’s shoulder. “At least you have the satisfaction of bringing a new life into the world, two new lives. I am sure that there are times you are called out in the night for far more depressing reasons. At least these were joyous occasions.”

The doctor nodded. “Indeed, you are right. There are far worse reasons for a doctor to be called out. Speaking of which, I have not been out to your place for several weeks now. I was beginning to think that your brothers were going to keep me busy traveling out there on a regular business, it seems that while Heath is lately come to the name he is as rambunctious as your brother Nick, and as accident prone.” He kidded gently. He had been one of the first to know who Heath was, and to accept him as such.

Jarrod smiled. “I’m afraid my brothers will always be on the edge of disaster, Doctor. It seems they are happiest when they are pushing beyond the bounds of what the rest of us consider the norm.”

“The same can be said for most of the great men of the past.” Merar observed. “We would not be where we are today without such men.” He and Jarrod started walking down the street, Merar’s house and office being in the same direction as Jarrod’s office. They nodded to mutual friends as they walked. “I was going to speak to your brother this morning as a matter of fact. I have enjoyed my previous talks with him, though I must admit drawing him into conversation is difficult at best. It is sometime difficult to believe that he and Nick share the same blood, being so different in that aspect as they are. I must admit that I was surprised at his level of knowledge in terms of frontier medicine as I have heard it called. He also seems quite versed in the use of herbs. I always enjoy learning new things, no matter what the source.”

“I don’t understand.” Jarrod said. “You saw Heath this morning? Was he at the store getting supplies?” Merar had come from the direction of the feed store down near the train station. Jarrod could not think of any other reason that Heath would be in town so early.

“No. He was here much earlier. It must have been around six as I was on my way to the Harrald’s place. Yes, it must have been almost exactly six as it was the northbound train he was getting on. Didn’t you know he was leaving?”

Jarrod’s mind was whirling in confusion. Why was Heath getting on a train? His brother had not mentioned any kind of trip in his future, and as far as he knew there was no cattle or horse-buying trip in the offing. What could have happened last night after he left that would have required Heath to leave so quickly? He looked at Merar with a frown. “I’m afraid I didn’t know.” He replied. “Obviously something has come up. Perhaps Heath got a telegram from a friend needing help. He was working at a ranch near Corning before he came to us, and I know he had friends there.” It seemed a logical conclusion., and seemed to satisfy the physician, even if Jarrod found it troubling. He took his leave from the doctor when they reached his office and went inside.

His clerk was already there, and he assured Jarrod that the brief had been filed. The judge had promised to issue a decision regarding the new information by the end of the day. Jarrod nodded distractedly at the news and entered his office. He sat behind his desk and looked blankly at the papers there. He could not work. He needed to know what was going on. He rose to his feet and took his hat off the rack. His clerk looked at him in surprise as he came out of his inner office.

“I have to run out to the ranch. I’ll be back as soon as possible. I don’t think I have any appointments that can’t be put off. See to it would you?” he said as he passed through the outer office and out the door. In a matter of minutes he had gotten Jingo out of the livery and was headed for the ranch at a canter. The trip seemed to take longer than usual and he was soon in sight of the large house. He rode into the yard, and yelled for Ciego, who came out of the barn.

“Ciego. Did you see my brother Heath this morning? Did he go out with one of the crew, or with my brother Nick?” he asked the hostler. The Mexican shook his head.

“I did not see Senor Heath this morning. He went out before the rest.”

Jarrod tossed Jingo’s reins to Ciego. As he strode toward the house he drew his watch from his pocket and checked the time. It was almost ten thirty. If Merar had seen Heath boarding the six o’clock train, then his brother was well past Sacramento by now, and almost to Willows or even Corning. The question he needed answered was, why? He went through the big door, and in the tradition of his brother tossed his hat on the table and yelled.

“Mother! Audra! Silas!” His voice echoed through the house. The first person to appear was Audra at the top of the stairs. She smiled down at her brother.

“I thought it was Nick for a moment. Now I know where he got it from.” She said in a teasing manner. Her smile faded as Jarrod looked up at her and frowned. “Jarrod what is it?” before he could answer Victoria and Silas appeared in the doorway leading to the dining room.

“Jarrod. Have you been taking lessons from your brother? There are better things to learn, I assure you.” His mother said. She then caught sight of the _expression on his face. “What is going on Jarrod? Is it Eugene?” she asked, knowing he was in town, and thinking he had gotten some news from Berkley. He shook his head, not wanting her to worry unnecessarily.

“No, I didn’t hear from Eugene. Do you know where Heath is?” he asked.

“Heath?” His mother asked. She came up to him in a swish of skirts. Audra had come down the stairs to stand on his other side, and Silas was hovering to the side. “What about your brother?”

“I need to know where he is. Is he on the ranch?” he asked again, not wanting to alarm them if they didn’t already know that Heath had taken the train.

“Jarrod you are hiding something. Why do you want to know about your brother?” Victoria demanded, reading her son’s eyes easily after so many years of practice. Jarrod reached over and took her arm.

“Please Mother, do you know where Heath is?” he said, not answering the question. His felt a fear growing within him, and tried to keep it from showing to his mother’s discerning eyes.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t know where he is. He started early this morning before breakfast. Silas, where did you say he was working?” she asked the houseman.

“Mr. Heath, he said that he was goin’ to the south pastures today to check the fences. Said he wanted to get an early start and that he should be in for lunch since he was missin’ breakfast.” Silas replied, wringing the towel he held in his hands. He knew that something was wrong. Something with Heath.

Victoria looked from Silas to Jarrod, and saw something flash in the blue eyes of her son as he heard what Silas said. She could only call it sadness. She felt an empty feeling in her stomach. She clutched Jarrod’s arm drawing his attention to her.

“Where is your brother Jarrod?” she asked flatly. He sighed.

“I don’t know for sure, but I believe that he is on the northbound train that left Stockton this morning at 6:00 am. My source is rather reliable.” He said. He heard Audra cry out in the negative, but his focus was on his mother.

“Your source?” Victoria inquired in a thin voice. He noticed that her grip on his arm had gotten almost painful.

“Dr. Merar saw him getting aboard the train this morning. He happened to mention it in passing when we met this morning. I admit I was at something of a loss. I take it you don’t know anything about this?”

“No.” Victoria said. “No, I can definitely say I knew nothing about this.” A look at Audra’s face assured both of them that her answer was the same, and Silas was shaking his head. “Silas. Please go upstairs and check Heath’s room. Audra. Will you go into the gunroom and see if his rifle is there. He hasn’t been taking it with him every day for some time now. I had taken that as a sign that he was becoming more comfortable here. Perhaps I was incorrect.” She took a small wisp of a handkerchief from her sleeve and wrung it in her hands, the only outward sign of the inner upset. Audra returned from the gunroom, and her tears were all the answer they needed about her mission. She buried her head against Jarrod’s chest and sobbed quietly. Victoria’s hand trembled on his arm. Silas came down the stairs, and they could see the sorrow in his eyes.

“All his new things is on the bed, all laid out real neat. Only the things he brought with him when he come are gone, along with his picture of his mama.” Silas said. He looked on the edge of tears himself. Jarrod felt his mother sway, and he put his free arm around her shoulders, offering her what support he could. He led the two women into the parlor and sat them on the settee where they clung to each other. Audra sobbed openly, while Victoria held her daughter and stared unseeingly at the wall. Jarrod went to the tantalus and poured two small brandies. It was way too early for such things, but he felt they would be the better for it. He waited until the two had pulled apart then handed each a glass. He went back and poured himself a scotch. Silas had disappeared back to the kitchen, where Jarrod was sure he was dealing with his own pain.

He sat in one of the chairs facing the settee and sipped his drink while his mother and sister sipped theirs. Audra could not keep her tears contained, and the tears dripped down her face until her mother handed her the small handkerchief. Finally Victoria looked at Jarrod.

“Why? Why would he go in such a way? We have offered him everything. Everything that you children have he had, the name, the property, the money. What more could we have offered him?” She asked him.

He shook his head. “I don’t think it was that mother. Heath gave me every reason to believe that he was more than satisfied with what was given him, perhaps even overwhelmed with the amount of it. If anything it was too much. He would have been happy just to have a place here I think, working on the ranch, being here in the house with us. If he never saw a penny from any of it, I think he would have been happy.” He said thoughtfully. “He was telling the truth when he said he didn’t want our money that first night. I think that having us accept him into the family was all he ever wanted. Why he would go like this I…..”

“Maybe this will answer the questions.” Came Silas’ voice from the doorway. He stood there with an envelope in his hand. Jarrod rose and went to him, taking the envelope and looking in question at the houseman. “It was in the study on your desk. I figured that Mr. Heath wouldn’t be leavin’ with out sayin’ somethin’ to you all. He was HAPPY here. Like he had never been happy someplace before. He belonged, that was all he ever wanted. It ain’t right that he had to leave.”

“I agree Silas. But if Heath left it wasn’t by our request.” Jarrod said and went back to the chair. He noticed that the envelope was addressed to him in Heath’s small but precise writing. He recalled how he said that his aunt Rachel had taught him his letters, making sure he did them right, but since they didn’t have much paper he learned how to write small and never really got over the habit. He exchanged glances with his mother and opened the envelope disappointed to see it held only one small piece of paper from the small notebook that Heath carried everywhere. Of course being a man of few words, it was as if Heath would now leave a long letter of explanation.

He removed it from the envelope and after a quick look at the contents he began to read it out loud. “Jarrod,” he read. “Sorry to leave like this. I think you will understand that this is best, and can tell the others. I can’t let my past ruin Nick’s future, or destroy any of your lives. I didn’t think about it before I came. I was used to it, and didn’t count the cost. Now I see that it is too high. I thank you all for the kindness you have shown me. Heath.” He sat staring at the note when he finished reading it then raised his eyes to meet the shocked eyes of his sister and mother. Audra’s blue eyes instantly filled with tears, and with a sob she rose from the settee and ran up the stairs. The sound of her door slamming behind her echoed through the house. Victoria watched her go then turned her gray eyes back to Jarrod. Who was looking at the note again.

“Do you know what he means when he says he can’t ruin Nick’s future?” she finally asked. Jarrod pretended not to notice when her voice quavered slightly.

He shook his head. “No. I think we’re going to have to ask Brother Nick that question. From what Heath says I have a suspicion it has something to do with the people that can’t or won’t forget the circumstances of his birth. I know that I don’t have to tell you that there have been some that won’t accept him. Some to the point that they have ceased to do business with us all together.”

“Yes. I am aware of those people.” She said simply. He knew that she had lost three old friends, woman that she had considered close, when word had gotten around that they had accepted Heath into the family. They had publicly snubbed her in the church and had privately refused to speak with her. “However. I thought that we had made it clear to Heath that such people were of no consequence, and that we remained sure of our decision to include him in the family.”

“I….think that Heath had another opinion about the consequence of those people. He may have heard it all his life, but I think that he didn’t really start listening to it until he came here. I think that every word said to us hurt him more than any ten said to him. Evidently it reached a critical point.”

“Yes. I think you could say that.” Victoria said. She rose to her feet and went to stand by the window, looking out on the yard. “He was happy here. I would have sworn….” She started. Jarrod went to stand behind her, and she leaned back against his chest. He felt the trembling in her small frame.

“He was, mother. I would swear to that myself. Despite everything I could see it in him. He wanted to be here, wanted to work the ranch, to be part of the family, wanted it with a depth of desire that I have seldom seen in anyone. I can only think that he did this out of the depth of his love for us; thinking that it was, as he said, the best thing to do.”

She shook her head. “Where ever he has gone we must get him back, as soon as possible. If we let him go with no protest, he will take it to mean that we agree with his supposition, and he will never come back. He’s very like his father that way. I saw it in him from the start. Once he sets his mind to a course of action he will not be stopped. You and Nick are the same, as is Audra to some degree. It is a quality that helped your father build all this, and in the end it got him killed. It is both a virtue and a curse, and I believe if we allow it, Heath will be lost to us. I will not allow that.” She spoke the last with all the strength of will that Jarrod was familiar with. He leaned down and kissed the top of her silver head, and smiled against her soft hair. Tom Barkley wasn’t the only source for their determination. He straightened away from her.

“I think it is time to consult with Brother Nick. I’ll send a man to find him.” He suited act to words and went outside to find one of the hands who rode out after Nick who was working in the orchards today. When he came back inside he found Victoria coming down the stairs.

“I gave your sister a headache powder. I think she’ll sleep for a while. As upset as she is, I believe it is for the best. When she awakens we should have some explanation, or at least a plan.” She went back into the parlor and sat down. Jarrod could see that she had regained her own equilibrium. She cocked her head and gave Jarrod a sharp look. “Do you believe that Nick has actively encouraged Heath to leave?” she asked the question that Jarrod had been asking himself.

Jarrod sighed and went to sit next to her. “I don’t want to think so. I would have said that Nick was coming around. That he was beginning to see the value of having Heath here, maybe even coming to like him. Just the other night, I thought that I saw a change in how he treated Heath. He actually spoke TO him instead of AT him. But there have been incidents…”

“I know.” Victoria agreed. “I do not wish to believe it either. Whatever Heath meant by not ruining Nick’s future, that is the key. For all that Heath has met Nick on his own terms, blow for blow when necessary,” she said with displeasure, “I know that he almost desperately wanted to have Nick’s acceptance. He has revealed himself to be the type of man who would sacrifice for any of us I think he would have done it more quickly for Nick. I have wondered why Nick couldn’t see it.”

“He didn’t want to see anything good about Heath. And as you know when brother Nick puts his mind to something it gets done.”

“His focus for the last several months has been to drive Heath away.” She observed.

Jarrod found himself in agreement, but he felt he had to defend his brother. “His method has been quite different though, and I might add, ineffective. As you say Heath has met him on that ground with no problem. He was prepared to fight for what he wanted. What has driven him away was something else all together. As determined as Nick is, he is not exactly the subtlest of men, and I do not think that he could have used Heath’s growing devotion in this way. I also prefer to think that my brother could not use something against another brother like that.”

They heard the pound of hooves in the yard, and Victoria glanced at the windows. “It seems we are about to find out if you are right.” They waited for Nick to enter.

Chapter 12

Nick straightened from where he was digging a reservoir around the base of a peach tree, and watched a rider approaching from the direction of the ranch. He stretched his back, and leaning the shovel against the tree, he wiped the sweat from his brow with one black clad arm. It was hot, and it looked to be getting hotter. Irrigation to these trees was going to be very important, and he wanted to be ready when the time came. He was aware that he was using the work to avoid thinking about his conversation with Garcia yesterday, but he was not yet ready to think about what he was afraid was going to happen. His positive outlook from the day before had faded to something that he was afraid was closer to reality.

He suspected that if he were to put the question to Maria he would not like the answer that he would receive. He thought about how things had been since he had first decided to ask for her hand, and how the actual proposal had gone. It had not been she who had the final say, despite her rapid answer to him. She had told him outright that he needed to get her father’s approval, though she had indicated that she did not think he would disagree. Now that he thought about it, he had the distinct impression that that she and her father had already discussed the issue, and that she had just been waiting for him to make his move. He didn’t like to think that he had been maneuvered into making an offer for her, but it seemed to be the case. He knew that Garcia was not above thinking of the whole thing as a business merger, but he had not really thought that he would sacrifice his daughter in the name of profit and power. Why it was almost like the old time when a woman was shipped off to marry the son of some enemy to stop the fighting, or like some princess being married off to some prince to consolidate lands into a larger kingdom. Nick had read about such things in the history books, but had not thought it was anything that happened in the modern world.

A woman had raised him that no one could have considered mere chattel. Victoria Barkley, like so many frontier women, was a full partner to her husband, doing many of the same jobs, and raising children while doing them. Despite initial disapproval from her parents regarding her choice of a husband she had worked alongside Tom Barkley until his death, a driving factor in the building and continued success of the ranch and all their endeavors. Nick now found it disturbing to think that the woman that he had chosen to be his wife was not made of the same stuff. Of course, he had not yet had the opportunity to ask her outright. He could be reading the situation wrong. He needed to give her the benefit of the doubt. He owed her that.

The rider came to a stop not far from Nick and he could see that it was Billy Hardin who was supposed to be doing the daily ranch yard chores today. Obviously, something was up/Nick stepped forward. “Billy, what you doing out here?” he asked.

“Your brother sent me out Mr. Barkley.” Billy said as he dismounted.

“Heath? I thought he was riding the south pasture fences.” Nick said, not realizing that he had just acknowledged that he considered Heath his brother. The men who had been working with him, who had stopped work and gathered nearby, didn’t miss it however, and they exchanged glances. There had been a lot of speculation about when, or if, Nick would accept the newest Barkley as the rest of his family did, and it looked like the time had come. Looked like a little money was gonna change hands in the bunkhouse come payday.

“No, not Heath.” Billy said. “Jarrod. He came out of the house, and I could tell he was pretty upset about somethin’. He said I should come out and get you as soon as possible.”

Nick frowned. Jarrod was supposed to be in town until tonight, why was he at the ranch, and what was so urgent that he needed Nick to come back in. “Did he send someone for Heath too?” He asked Billy as he started toward where Coco was tied.

“No sir. Just sent me after you and went back inside.” The hand reported. Nick mounted up and turned Coco toward the ranch. Billy mounted and followed along behind. It didn’t take them long to get back to the ranch, and Nick handed Coco over to Ciego.

“I’ll be going back out, Ciego. Just water him and loosen the cinch. Once I get this straightened out, what ever this is, I can get back to work.” Nick said and strode off toward the house. He swept his hat off as he pushed open the door.

“Jarrod! Mother!” He called out in his usual manner, and his mother appeared in the door to the parlor almost immediately. She seemed pale to Nick, and he stepped forward, ignoring her plea to lower his voice. “Mother, what is it. You aren’t looking well. Is something wrong with Audra , or Eugene?” He asked, thinking suddenly that maybe Jarrod had gotten a telegram from their younger brother. His mother shook her head and led him into the parlor with a hand on his arm. He noticed that she was carrying a handkerchief , and that as she released his arm she began twisting it between her hands. Instead if sitting down she went to the window and stood looking out. Nick looked from her to Jarrod who was seated in one of the chairs. “What the hell…” he glanced at his mother who did not seem to notice his cursing. “What’s going on?” he asked his brother. Jarrod looked at their mother, then turned cold blue eyes on Nick. Eyes that Nick had only seen before when Jarrod was very upset, or when he was questioning a witness that he knew to be lying. Those eyes were weapons, and Nick had seldom seen them turned on him. All the more puzzled, he looked back at his mother, who was staring out the window, as if neither son was in the same room. Jarrod rose to his feet, drawing Nick’s attention back to him. He came to stand almost toe-to-toe with Nick.

“Nick,” he said seriously. ‘Mother and I need you to answer a question, and we need you to be honest with us.”

“What, like I’m not honest with you the rest of the time?” Nick asked, offended.

“I’m not saying that Nick. Just that you may not think of it in the same way we do.” Jarrod replied.

“What are you talking about Jarrod? What’s going on?”

“We need to know if you said something to Heath. If you told him that he was ruining your future. That it would be better for everyone if he left.” Jarrod quit beating around the bush and came right out with it. He saw surprise in the hazel eyes, then there was a flash of something else just before the dark head went down and the eyes were hidden, and with a sinking feeling he realized that Nick knew what he was talking about. “My God, Nick. What did you do?” he whispered.

Nick’s head snapped back up. “I thought a man was innocent until proven guilty counselor!” He growled, and was about to say more when their mother stepped between them. She placed a hand on the chest of each of her sons.

“Stop. We are not making any accusations. We are only trying to find out what has caused this…” she started, but Nick’s patience was at and end, and he cut her off.

“Caused what? What is it that has you both all wound up? Did Heath say I said something to him? Where is he? Let’s hear what he has to say. He hasn’t had any trouble saying something to my face before.” He said firmly, crossing his arms across his chest. He was sure that this was all some misunderstanding. He must have said something that Heath misunderstood. He was still unsure with his newest brother, and maybe he had made a misstep where he had only intended to grow closer. He saw a look of sadness cross his mother’s face, a sadness unlike any he had seen since his father had died. What was going on?

Jarrod stepped away from his mother and went toward the fireplace. He spun back around to face Nick, and the rancher could see that the attorney was gone, but the sadness was still there. “We would like to be able to talk to him Brother Nick. But that’s the problem you see. He’s not here to talk to. Dr. Merar saw him getting on the six o’clock train headed North out of Stockton this morning. Heath has packed his things, leaving almost everything that was purchased for him I might add, and left a note saying that he was leaving for good. Supposedly he took this step so that he, and I quote, would not ruin YOUR future, or that of the rest of us. Now you’ll forgive me for sounding accusing Brother Nick, but it seemed to me that you might just have an idea what I meant when I said that. Would you care to explain it to us?”

Nick could only stare at his brother as the words sank into his head. He could not have heard correctly. Heath was riding the fences on the south side of the ranch. He could not be on a train leaving Stockton, leaving the ranch, leaving the family….leaving him. Dr Merar must have made a mistake. Then he realized that Jarrod had said that Heath’s things were gone, and that there was a note. “A note?” he managed to croak out. “There was a note?”

Jarrod wordlessly pulled the small piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Nick. He was beginning to wonder if his first reaction had not been wrong. He was still sure that Nick knew something, but the fact that Heath had left had hit Nick hard, and that was not a false reaction. Nick looked a the small piece of paper in his hand, and felt a jolt of recognition. This was a page from Heath’s notebook. The one that he always used. Just like the one that he had used last night to give Nick an idea of what needed on the West side fences.

He and Heath had been in the study, with a map spread out on the big desk. Heath had laid out his notebook along side the map, and had turned from page to page as they scanned down the boundary line. IN the end he had taken out the pages and given them to Nick. It had been the first time that they had truly worked on anything together, and it had felt….good. Nick had been surprised at how easy they had worked together. Surprised and gratified. For so long he had worked the ranch alone, and he was only now realizing how the weight had sat on his shoulders. It was like a man who had been blind who was suddenly able to see. It had been a …revelation. Now, Heath was gone. He unfolded the page, and read the few lines. It was a short and succinct note. He would not have expected any more from his quiet brother.

“I can’t let my past ruin Nick’s future.” The words jumped off the page at him, and seemed to sear into his brain. Then the last words were like a second blow, “I thank you all for your kindness.” What kindness had he shown his brother? What sign had he given him that he, Nick Barkley, wanted him to be there? In any way had he told his brother about the plans he had started to make in his head, plans for the ranch, plans for the two of them working side by side? He raised his eyes to meet Jarrod’s.

“Are you…” he had to stop as his voice broke. “Are you sure it was Heath that Dr. Merar saw? It could have been some other blond cowhand, and Heath is just in town or something.”

“I don’t think so Nick. The Doctor is well familiar with Heath, and there was more than enough light to see by so that a case of mistaken identity is unlikely. Given that he must, or rather that he should, have known that we would make an effort to retrieve him if he were to stay in town, I tend to believe that the Doctor saw who and what he said he saw.” Jarrod said. He was now seeing that whatever Nick knew about this whole matter, he had not planned the effect of driving Heath out. “Nick, what do you know about what Heath is saying in the note? That he doesn’t want his past to ruin your future. What does it mean?”

Nick numbly handed the note back to his brother and went to lean an elbow on the mantel. He put his hand to his forehead and rubbed where a headache had suddenly appeared. He suddenly felt a small hand touch his back, and he lowered his hand to meet his mother’s gray eyes. He sighed. “I know what he meant, but I didn’t ask him to go if that’s what you want to know.” He said to his brother’s question. He couldn’t even get enough energy up to sound offended at the supposition that his brother had made. He really could not blame Jarrod for making that assumption based on his previous behavior. He didn’t look at his brother or his mother as he spoke.

“I…..uh…I hadn’t told Senor Garcia, or Maria, about Heath. I mean about him not being our full brother. When I was down there at their ranch I only talked about…….well I didn’t mention him at all. I told them about Eugene though, and when they were here for the dinner they thought that Heath was the younger brother I had talked about, and that they had misunderstood what I had said about him, and made a mistake in the name. I knew that night what they thought, but I couldn’t figure out a way to correct it with out explaining the whole thing right then and there. So….I le tit go and I just thought I would tell Don Garcia later, before he could hear the gossip. I even meant to do it the next day when I went over to have lunch after church, but I was late and he had other guests. I didn’t even get a chance to talk to Maria alone that day.” He shook his head. “I tried again the week after, but then there was the bull…….” He stopped, his mind going back to that day, the sight of Garcia with the rifle, and the bull slumping to his side, the bullet in his brain.

“Bull, what bull? What has that to do with Heath?” Victoria asked.

“Garcia has some of the most expensive breeding stock I’ve ever seen. Pure bred, a direct line back to Adam’s first cow as far as I can tell.” He said sarcastically. “He’s very proud of them, talked it up at that lunch I was at. One of the bulls kept breaking out of his pen. He was determined to get at Peterson’s milk herd, you know how he is about those cows of his. It happened again while I was there to talk to Garcia the second time. Constanza, Garcia’s foreman, came in and told the Don that the bull was out and we went out to where he had gone through the fence. Peterson was already there and was howling about how he was gonna loose the use of the cows for a season, and that it would mess up his breeding program. All Garcia had to do was buy the cows, or even just give Peterson some money, but instead he took a rifle and …..he killed the bull. Just like that. It had to be a thousand dollars of beef on the hoof, if it was a penny, and he shot it like a diseased mossy horn from the breaks. Didn’t so much as blink.”

Nick pounded a fist on the mantel. “Then he starts telling me about how the bloodlines are sacred. How his family is like that bull was. Pure back to the bloody middle Ages and how he’s happy that his daughter is marrying into a family like ours. How we’re going to continue the line. Somehow it just didn’t seem the right time to mention that my father had done precisely what that bull had just gotten shot for doing.” He cast an apologetic look at his mother. “Sorry mother, but that’s the thought I had at the time.” He found he could no longer stand in one place, so he started pacing back and forth before the fireplace. His mother went to sit in one of the chairs, and Jarrod went to lean on the back of it, their attention on the pacing man.

“I should have just come out and said something, but I couldn’t, not then. I wanted to think about it, and then …….it was too late. Yesterday morning, before I went over to Don Garcia’s, Constanza came over. He told me that Garcia wanted to see me, and that there were certain rumors that had been heard. The way he looked at Heath…I knew what the rumors were, and so did Heath. I told Constanza I would be there as soon as I could get free, and started to walk away, and he said something to Heath, in Spanish. Heath understood it, but I only caught a word or two. Whatever it was, it wasn’t nice. But then I guess Heath has gotten used to that. He just shrugged it off, and I guess he didn’t have any reason to think that I would care what was said anyway.” He stopped talking , and paced silently for several minutes.

“I take it the discussion with Don Garcia didn’t go well?” Jarrod questioned.

“That would be putting it mildly.” Nick growled. “The old man all but told me that the marriage was off if Heath was going to stay around. It wasn’t so much that he existed, it was the fact that we had acknowledged him, admitted that father had……He actually came out and said that he understood that men had needs, and sometimes these things happened, even in the best families. But you didn’t take the product in, didn’t call him brother, well bred, Christian, folk don’t even speak of such people.” He echoed the words he had heard from Garcia. He could see the look of anger in Jarrod’s eyes, and the same in his mother’s. It reminded him that his sense of fair play, his sense of honor, was not all a gift from his father’s bloodline.

“I would like to believe, Nicholas, that you informed Don Garcia that this family had made a decision about Heath’s inclusion in this family, and that was not going to change.” She said, her chin lifting in that imperious way that had made him first call her ‘Duchess’.

He nodded. ‘I told him, and then I had to leave before things got out of hand. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Maria though, and I don’t know where it stands with her. I……I would like to think that she’ll decided to marry me despite her father, but I’m afraid….”

“It is a different culture in Mexico. When your father and I were there, many years ago, I know that the women of the moneyed families were protected, some almost cloistered until they married. I didn’t expect it to be such with Maria. Perhaps she will surprise you and agree. But as much as I regret that this has caused a rift between you and Don Garcia, I think that we must focus on the problem that is now facing this family. Heath is gone, and like your brother, I believe that if we do not retrieve him, or at least make an attempt to do so immediately, he will be lost to us forever. He is well aware of our resources, and also I believe that he is well able to evade those resources if he so chooses. Perhaps the question we should ask is, do you want to help get him back, or do you prefer that we let him go?”

“Of course I want him back!” Nick nearly yelled then he looked sheepishly at his mother, who smiled at him with that small knowing look that said she understood exactly what he meant, and why he said things the way he did.

“Then we need to make a decision. I feel that Heath will not return if we simply were to send a message, or even an agent. I think that one or both of you should go. It is not really practical for me to accompany you, and I think that I should stay here with your sister.”

“I’ll go.” Both Nick and Jarrod spoke at the same time, and then looked at each other, Jarrod with surprise, and Nick with belligerence.

“I have to go Jarrod. He said he was leaving because of me, and it’ll have to be me that tells him that he should come back.” Nick argued.

“Granted that he said he was doing it because of you Nick, but even you have to admit that you two are not on the best of terms, at least you haven’t been. I think that he would be happier if someone less…contentious were to follow him.”

“Less cont…what the hell does that mean? Don’t throw your book learning at me! I know what has to be done, and I am the one to do it. He thinks that he went to save me so I ‘m the only one that can tell him different.”

“Nick…”Jarrod began only to be cut off by their mother.

“Enough!” She said firmly. “Upon reflection I believe that you should both go. Nick because supposedly it is because of him the Heath left, and Jarrod because as he says, you and Heath have not been on the best of terms.” She said to her second son. “If he will not listen to one of you he might listen to the other. This is not something that we can afford to lose. As Heath said in his note, the cost would be too high.” She rose to her feet. “Do either of you need help packing?” she asked. The brothers looked at each other, and bowed to the wisdom of their mother. They headed upstairs to pack.

Two hours later Jarrod was seated on a bench at the Stockton depot watching Nick pace back and forth across the platform. They were waiting for the afternoon train that headed North to the same destinations as the one that Heath had taken. As they had talked with the stationmaster they had become more and more disturbed. Up until that time they had considered the places where Heath might have gone somewhat limited. The stationmaster had reminded them that Sacramento was the hub of almost all the rail traffic in the state. It was from there that trains left for all points east. By this time Heath could have taken a train headed east and be halfway to Nevada. Of course he could have headed on North to where the current railhead was in Redding, or even west into San Francisco. Or any point in between.

Their only hope was to try to find out where he had gone when they got to Sacramento. While Heath might not be memorable to a clerk who saw hundreds of people a day, the fact that he had a horse with him would make him stand out. If he got on another train with the horse there would be records. The question now, and that had Nick pacing furiously, was would they get into Sacramento in time to ask questions before everyone went home for the night? The train was already fifteen minutes late, and there was no sign of it yet. Jarrod knew if it was any later, he would be hard put to keep Nick from renting a horse and starting out for Sacramento on horseback. He glanced around. They were the only people waiting.

“Nick. If we do convince Heath to return with us, what is it going to mean with you and Maria? I have to tell you that I don’t have a good feeling about her defying her father and going ahead with the marriage. If that is the case I don’t think that Heath would stay here. Are you prepared to deal with that?” He said. Nick came to a stop in front of him, and his eyes rose to meet Jarrod’s.

“I don’t know Jarrod. I don’t want to think that Maria would let something like this stand in our way, but then I just came to realize in the last few days that I don’t know her very well. I thought she was a woman like mother, if there could be anyone like Mother. I thought she could be more than a wife; a partner, a soul mate if that doesn’t sound too hokey. But when I try to imagine Maria doing what Mother did, I can’t do it. Not that she would have to, but….”

“But you would want her to be the type who would if she had to.” Jarrod said, understanding what Nick was trying to say. He was not surprised to learn that Nick had not thought beyond Maria’s obvious attributes when choosing her for his wife. She was a lovely young woman, educated, well mannered, a woman who would make any man look good when she was on his arm. But he had wondered to himself if that was what Nick really needed. Nick was a simple man, his first love was the ranch, and always would be. While he enjoyed a good get together as much as the next man, he would rather be talking ranching with other ranchers than seeing and being seen with those who were more concerned with their social status. He needed a woman who could if need be help a mare give birth, drive a wagon load of feed out to starving cattle, fight off rustlers with a rifle, and all the other things a rancher’s wife needed to know about. Their mother had set a high standard, and Jarrod was afraid that Maria didn’t meet them. He had however been prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt. But that doubt ended when it might cost them the company of their brother.

“Yeah. I do, and that probably isn’t fair, to Maria or anyone. I mean Mother is one of a kind. I have to tell you Jarrod, I think that I may have made a mistake asking her to marry me. Maybe I should have waited until I had a chance to spend more time with her. I think I just fell for how she looked, and the way she acted. She seemed to be like mother in that, and I got to thinking….well, I might have been wrong. I just don’t know.” He sighed, and came to sit next to Jarrod on the bench. He leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes.

“I do know one thing though Jarrod” He said not opening his eyes. “I want Heath back. I want to…I want to make up for the last few months that I wasted being angry. I want to get to know him like a brother. Like I know you. I want to know which way he’s gonna jump when things get out of hand, like they do. I want to know how he thinks, what he feels, what he believes. I wanna know where he came from and I want to help him get to where he wants to go. I want…I want to watch the sunrise with him and not have him be suspicious of why I do it. I want to be the big brother to him that you have been to me, the brother I should have been from the start, the brother I should have been since he was born. And to tell you the truth Jarrod, I think that I want that more than I want Maria.”

Jarrod was moved by his brother’s speech, but was unsure how to answer. He laid a hand on the wide shoulder nearest him, and squeezed gently. As he did so the sound of a train’s whistle could be heard from the south. He stood and grabbed his saddlebags that held his things. He scooped up Nick’s as well, and met the now open hazel eyes. He gave what he hoped was a confidant smile.

“Well then Brother Nick, let’s go get out little brother and bring him home shall we? We’ll work out the rest after we’re all together again.” He said heartily, as the engine pulled into the station. Nick looked at him, and for the first time in the hours since he had heard that Heath had gone a small smile crossed his face. He stood and took his saddlebags from Jarrod’s hand. He strode toward the day car with his usual determination, throwing a quick look over his shoulder at Jarrod.

“What are you waitin’ for. Let’s go.”

Chapter 13

Heath leaned casually against the wall of the livery stable, looking over the corral where a herd of mules milled about. They looked well fed, and ready to work, at least as much as a mule is ever prepared for working. Most of the ones Heath had known were highly intelligent, and had no intention of working if they could find ways to avoid it. He had found that the average mule was way smarter than a horse, though not his Gal horse. He approved of this group, and pushed away from the wall to go inside the livery where Rufus was talking with the hostler. He was settling up his boarding fees so that they could pull out early the next morning, before dawn as a matter of fact. That was at Heath’s insistence, as was his request to the hostler to keep it quiet. The mule drivers had been notified, as had the men that Heath had hired on as guards, but other than that no one was aware that they would be leaving Shasta City so quickly. Heath reckoned that their quick departure would throw off a few people, notably the tough crowd that had been hanging out at the saloon since they arrived two days ago from Redding, 12 miles to the east.

They had arrived at around two in the afternoon, and Heath had immediately started looking for people that he knew. He had worked around this area for several years, and had gotten to know a lot of people. Most of the ranches in the area were small compared to the Barkley holdings, and had to lay off their extra crews over the winter and into the spring. They would start rehiring soon for the fall round up season and the drives to market. Mostly the really good men were kept on, but there were a few men that Heath knew, good men, but unable to stay in one place for long. If they were still in the area they would be good guards. After a tour of all the saloons in Redding he had succeeded in finding all but one of the men he had been looking for, and he had located this last man in the local jail. A chat with the sheriff had revealed that the charge was drunk and disorderly, and that the cowboy simply hadn’t had the cash to pay the fine and damages. After a talk with the inmate, and another with Huckmeister, Heath had bailed the man out with an advance on his pay for the job. With his base of familiar men, Heath had soon found himself with a good crew of experienced men that he felt they could trust. They were honest men who would not be tempted by the value of what they would be escorting. Huckmeister was offering good wages, and the men would be able to survive in fine style until the ranches started hiring later in the year. Huckmeister had been satisfied, and had arranged for his teamsters to meet them in Shasta the next evening. They would wait outside of town until Heath came out and got them and they would come and load the mules with the supplies. The guards would wonder into town, one or two at a time, and would filter out of town in the same way during the morning.

During the ride north on the train Huckmeister had told Heath about his claim. It seemed the old man had found an old streambed that had become cut off from the regular run of the creek. It had been dry a long time, and the brush and trees had over grown the area. Huckmeister had been camping on the site, preparing to work the next area of the actual creek, and had woke in the morning to find that the large pebble that had interrupt his sleep during the night had proven to be a nugget of gold. Further exploration had yielded a large amount more. He had taken samples for assaying, had staked the area for a claim, and had headed back to civilization. He had filed his claim, and then headed for Stockton for the assaying. He believed that his charade had thrown off any suspicious minds, but when you were talking large amounts of money it paid to be cautious.

Heath had questioned him about how long he felt it would take to remove the ore. Huckmeister said that he had surveyed what he felt was a lens of concentrated placer deposits, and he thought that it would only take a week or two to get it all panned out. Once the main lens was out, and brought into Shasta, he thought that he would be able to work the rest of the claim with a smaller contingent of guards and the teamsters. Heath had been glad for the talkative old miner, and for the busy time that he had in Redding. They had not had much time to stop, and that suited him just fine. When he stopped, and he had time to think, his thoughts drifted to the south, and the family he had let behind. He tried not to remember the gentle smile in Jarrod’s blue eyes as they discussed a book they had both read, or Audra’s smile of pleasure when he agreed to play checkers with her, or Mrs. Barkley’s smile as he came in to the dining room in the morning, or even Nick’s loud bellow as they came in the door at night. He tried but failed. He had done the right thing, but God how it hurt. It didn’t seem quite fair that the right thing should be the most painful, possibly the most painful thing in a life that had thrown many painful things at him.

Huckmeister finished his business at the livery, ad with a pat to Gal’s hip Heath walked with the old miner toward the hotel where they were staying. It wasn’t no fancy place, but the beds were at least free of vermin, and the food was good. The small town, on the edge of the Cascade Range, was the last stop for miners moving out, or the first stop for miners returning from their quest. There were the usual stores and a church for the townspeople, and the rest of the town was made saloons and other entertainments for the miners. There were two large hydraulic mines working the Trinity River, and their men came into town once a month to spend their earnings, and find some companionship of the fairer sex. Heath hated the large mining combines. They destroyed any area they moved into without thought for any animals or people living nearby. IN their lust for gold, nothing else had any value. He could still remember his first view of the Malokoff diggings up in the Sierras, a huge scar on the earth.

It seemed the town was busier than usual right now, which suited Heath just fine. The more people moving around, the less likely they were to be missed. Of course it also made it hard to catch anyone who might be interested in them specifically, but the trade off was worth it in his opinion. The two men entered the hotel and went up to their rooms. Huckmeister had decided to spend the last night with some friends playing poker, but promised to stop in time to get some sleep before they left in the morning. Heath figured to eat his dinner, and maybe hang out in one of the saloons for a while. He didn’t really want to be alone. He might even get some poker in himself. His pockets were lighter than he liked, even if Huckmeister had promised him money when it was all over. Heath trusted the miner to meet his obligations, else he would never have involved his friends, but he wanted to have some money of his own until that time. A man never knew when it was needed.

Later that evening he was leaning on a bar, a beer at his elbow, watching a fancy dressed gambler clean the miners and locals out of their earnings. It wasn’t that he was cheating, Heath would have seen that, but he was good, and steady, and he understood how the cards worked. He bet cautiously most of the time, but knew when to go whole hog. The man was up quite a few dollars by Heath’s count. Just from a poker player’s point of view it was interesting to watch such a skilled performance, but heat was also watching one of the men that was playing. He didn’t think that the gambler quite knew who he was dealing with there.

Heath only knew because he had cause to be wary of the man, and his kin who would be somewhere in town. The current poker victim was Jase Howland, youngest son, and if Heath recalled, apple of the eye of Thomas Howland, local rancher and probable cattle rustler and bank robber. Neither accusation had been proven, against Howland senior or any of his numerous sons, but everyone pretty much knew it was true. In any event, Howland ruled his ranch, his family, and as many local people who would stand for it with an iron hand. He had gotten himself elected to the position of county supervisor, and if he took a dislike to you, then you might as well move out of the area now and save yourself the hassle. He had ruined many good, but weak, men, and hated with a passion those he could not intimidate or cow. It was locally acknowledged that Howland ran the Marshall of Shasta city, and pretty much owned the mayor outright.

His sons, all eight, were spittin’ images of their father, except for the youngest who took after his mother, who had died in childbirth with him. Being the youngest of such a family as his had not been beneficial to Jase’s attitude toward others. He was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it, and losing was not anything he wanted. Heath had heard stories, even down in Corning, about people who had crossed the Howlands. Usually they had some nasty accident, or mysteriously left the country in the middle of the night, sometimes leaving all their belongings behind. The local Marshall of course could find no evidence of foul play, and everyone would simply look at each other knowingly and step a little wider around the Howlands. This gambler evidently hadn’t been in town very long, or was very stupid, which his playing did not show.

Heath was well familiar with the youngest Howland, and two of his older brothers. They had come down to Red Bluff for the Rodeo when Heath had been working in Corning to the south. Every cowhand who had ever dropped a rope on a calf, or who fancied himself a horse breaker or bull rider from miles around had come to participate, and Heath had been one. He had easily passed through the early go-rounds, and was in the finals of the horse breaking. Another contestant had been Jase Howland. Heath had noticed that the other finalists had seemed to develop problems, and the contest had come down to him and Jase. He had done his best, as was his way, and had stayed on his horse for that one second longer than Howland. It had been a good win, with a prize of twenty dollars and a buckle that he sold to another hand for three more dollars, after all, he wasn’t gonna wear anything like that, and someone might as well get some use out of it. That night in one of the saloons he had found himself faced with Jase’s two big brothers, the rest evidently not having come to town. They had suggested that he might want to turn over the buckle and money to their younger brother, and he had suggested where they might go. In the fight that ensued, they had managed to break up just enough of the bar to cost Heath all of the twenty bucks that he had won, leaving him with only the three dollars from the buckle. The Howlands had been forced to pay more he knew, and he was happy enough, though he would have liked to have the money to send on to his mother. She was feeling poorly of recent late, and the extra money would have ensured that she got the medicine that made the pain go away for a while.

In any event he had rode out of town without further meetings with the Howlands, and had been happy enough for it. He had gotten the better of the fight, and had hardly a bruise to show for it, in fact he was sure the horse had beat him up worse. They boys were determined, but not real good with their fists. They had gotten in each other’s way, and that had allowed Heath to do much more damage than they could. He suspected that the Howlands as a group were used to getting what they wanted without having to resort to physical violence, and weren’t used to someone saying “no” to them. That had been over a year ago. He doubted if Jase recognized him, the man had struck Heath as rather self-centered.

He kept watching the game until the gambler had cleaned out everyone at the table except Howland, who had a small pile of bills in front of him. Heath could tell by his actions that Howland was in no condition to continue to play. He was partly drunk and partly he was just a bad poker player. Heath had found that he could read the other man easily, and suspected that the gambler was having no trouble doing the same. He had to hand it to the man. He was a professional. He had even tried to pull out of the game, leaving Howland with the small bit he had remaining, but Jase would have none of it. Like most bad players he was sure that his luck would turn at any moment, and he would recoup all his losses, plus some. It wasn’t going to happen. Heath knew that the gambler would clean him out in no time.

As he watched the final card was dealt, and the two men started the betting. It didn’t take long for Howland to be out of cash, and since the game was table stakes only he couldn’t get more. With bad grace he accepted the rule and called. The gambler lay out his cards, a respectable full house, and Howland sat staring at the cards for several moments, then threw his own hand on the table with a curse. He was up and out of his chair, pushing his way out the door in a second. Heath finished his beer and shook his head. He drifted over to the gambler’s side.

“Don’t think you want to be hanging around town much longer. In fact, was I you, I would be heading out right now. The further, the faster.”

The gambler looked around at him, a puzzled look in his eyes. He waved the pile of bills that was his winnings. “This town is treating me well my young friend. Why should I move on?” he asked.

Heath gave him a small smile. The town might be treatin’ you fine, but if you want to be holdin’ on to any of that money you better be somewhere else real quick.”

“What do you mean?” the other man asked. Heath glanced around, and could see no one that seemed to be paying particular attention to them. He nodded his head toward the door.

“I know it’s early for someone like you, but it would be best if you go back to your hotel now before he can get back with one or more of his brothers. Once they get you corralled you ain’t getting out of here with your money.” He warned. The man studied him for several minutes then rose and put on his hat. The two men went out the door, and turned toward the direction of Heath’s hotel, which it turned out was the gambler’s as well. The man introduced himself as Jenkins, and they walked in silence through the still busy streets. Te town would slow down after midnight, but like most gold towns it would never really sleep. The saloons would be open all night, and the cathouses would be busy until dawn.

Once they got back to the hotel Heath accompanied the gambler to his room. Once they were inside Heath sunk into the single chair, and the gambler sat on the bed, and lighted a small cigar. It reminded Heath of Jarrod, and his small cigars that he enjoyed in the evening after dinner on the porch. He shook his head when the gambler offered one to him.

“Now my young friend, why do you feel that I should leave this fair city?” Even the man’s speech patterns reminded Heath of Jarrod, though their looks were not the same.

“It ain’t the city you need to get away from, it’s the folks what run it, and one of them is the man you just beat at poker. I know from past experience that he don’t take to losin’ well, and he’s got him a passel of brothers to call on that don’t care for it much either. There’s lots of talk that several people that got on the wrong side of them disappeared real quick like, not all of them of their own free will if you understand what I mean.”

“I do. Unfortunately I have run into such men before, and while I feel that I can handle myself well in a one to one confrontation, I find crowds distasteful. However, I am not a cowhand, and do not have my own horse. I came up on the stage, and I believe that it will not be returning to Redding until the morning. If what you say is correct, I do not feel that they are going to permit me to board with my winnings.” He stopped and looked at Heath. “You never asked if I cheated to win. For all you know I may deserve to loose the roll.”

Heath shook his head. “I ain’t a professional, but I know a cheat when I see it. You won it fair, though I can’t say Howland was much of a challenge. If you was cheating I wouldn’t have bothered to warn you.” The gambler nodded, understanding the distinction Heath had made. He was glad he was straight.

Heath rose to his feet and went to look out the window that overlooked the street. He couldn’t see anyone watching the hotel, but then it was dark and there were places someone could hide and see the hotel well without being seen. He thought for a moment and then turned to look at the gambler. They were of a height, and of the same coloring though the gambler looked to be somewhere near forty. With a quick glance around the room, Heath could see that the man traveled light, only a small carpetbag was in evidence. There might just be a way to help both the gambler, and cover up what he and Huckmeister were doing. He looked at the gambler who was watching him with quizzical blue eyes.

“How about we help each other out? My friend and me are pulling out of here in the morning, and we’d rather people didn’t know about it. If you were to go to the stage dressed different than you are, at the last minute with a ticket already bought, then I think you might just be able to make it out. Jase Howland only saw you in the black get up and with that little mustache. If you were in some different clothes and clean shaved, you would look some different.”

The gambler ran a hand over his mustache. He had grown fond of it, and had taken to stroking it while he played. It was something of a good luck thing with him. He considered. While it might be good luck, he wasn’t going to cling to it at the expense of his winnings and possibly his life. He looked at he young man. He wasn’t sure why he had trusted the man, but his business depended on his ability to read people, and he saw only an honest man, trying to help. He shrugged. “Well, the mustache can go, though I’ll miss it. But I can grow it back. The cloths are a problem though. This is my only suit I am afraid. I hadn’t thought to need another, it seems I need to expand my wardrobe in the future.”

“Don’t worry none about that, I got some clothes you can wear.” Heath said, his mind whirling with a plan. “Me and my friend want to get out of town tomorrow without anyone being the wiser. If you was to make something of a show of getting on the stage dressed like me, it might just throw them off enough to give us a good head start to the west, and get you out of town with the Howlands none the wiser.” Heath suspected that the group that was most interested in Huckmeister’s claim was probably associated with the Howlands, and this way they would be frustrated on both fronts. The idea pleased Heath somehow. He had no liking for people that used fear to control others, or to ride roughshod over those that didn’t yield.

The gambler considered. He could see how both he and the cowboy would benefit from the plan. He knew that there were pokers games to be played elsewhere, and he would not risk his life on foolish courage. He nodded in agreement. “All right. How are we going to get a ticket now though, the station has to be closed.” It seemed a weak part of the plan. It was well past ten, and he was sure the stationmaster was probably fast asleep.

Heath gave him a small crooked smile. “I happen to know where the stationmaster is right now, and know someone who’s a good friend of his. I think he could be persuaded to make an exception for us and sell you a ticket now. All you would have to do is walk out of here wearing my clothes and keeping your head down. The first stage leaves at seven, I reckon if you show up there at five ‘til and just climb on no one will be any the wiser.”

The gambler agreed and Heath went off to where Huckmeister and his friends were still playing poker, in the parlor of the town doctor. He waited until the hand was finished and then pulled Huckmeister aside. The old miner had a good laugh about the happening, and nodded in agreement. He called the stationmaster over and the deal was done. Since the game was over they went down to the station and a ticket was purchased. Heath returned to the hotel with Huckmeister and went to get his spare clothes. It was gonna make it difficult for him until he got back, but it was worth it if it threw off the men that might follow. Huckmeister provided a beat up cowboy hat that was the right color, even if it wasn’t quite the right shape. Probably no one would notice, and it would give the gambler more cover.

Heath returned to the gambler’s room and gave him the clothes, hat and ticket. The gambler had not been idle while he was gone, and the mustache was already gone. Heath noticed he had even trimmed down his sideburns closer to what Heath wore. They didn’t look much alike standing side by side, but taken one on one, he thought it would do. The gambler took the offerings, and looked askance at the young man.

“You do realize that you haven’t even asked my name, or told me yours?” The gambler asked.

Heath shrugged. “Names don’t matter much. If you need one, I’m Heath….” He hesitated. “Heath Thompson.” He finished. He had almost said Barkley, and the very thought of it hurt. In the few short months he had come to think of himself as Barkley, even after a lifetime of being Thompson. IT had meant that much to him.

“Ely Whitaker. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He offered a hand and got a firm shake in return. He had to ask the question that had been in his mind since the younger man had approached him in the saloon. “Why are you doing this? I think you cold have gotten out of town in fine style without my help. Why put yourself out for a stranger?”

Heath shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do. I don’t like to see anyone buffaloed, and I know what it’s like to be alone in a town with everyone against you. It ain’t a pretty place to be. If a man don’t do what’s right for others, he ain’t got no right to expect someone to do right by him later.”

“A very good philosophy my friend. Would that more people followed it. Please be assured that I will pass on your good deed some day.” Whitaker said, amused and amazed at the response. It was unusual in one so young to understand the give and take of fate. But something in the pale blue eyes said this young man had a lot of experience, and knew of what he spoke.

They talked a little more of the plan then Heath said his goodbye, wishing the gambler good night and a good trip. Whitaker returned the good wishes, and closed the door behind the young man. He looked thoughtfully at the clothes on the bed. He had the distinct impression that the younger man didn’t have a lot of money to spare, and he suspected that these clothes were all the man had beside what he wore. Whitaker kept his wardrobe at a minimum to facilitate his nomadic lifestyle. His winning would allow him to buy whatever he needed where ever he might be, and so he had not known want in many a year since he had learned his trade.

It touched something deep inside of him, something he had thought lost in the pessimistic turn of mind that he had cultivated after years of seeing the worst of what a man can be. He had little chance to meet good men who would act out of right and not profit. He sat down on the bed and picked up the blue shirt. He could see that the elbows had been neatly patched, and the cuffs showed a lot of wear. It was the shirt of a man who worked with his hands and muscles, a world apart from Whitaker’s existence. Once, long ago, he had been at a crossroad. His had been the choice to work with his hands, to join his father in the family business of storekeeping. But instead he had fled to the Mississippi. The great muddy river, and the riverboats that plied it’s waters, had become his life, and he had learned to gamble: playing poker, chuck-a-luck, three-card Monte, and any other game of chance that would make him money. He had put aside a good amount of money in a bank back East. He would be able to spend his declining years in comfort when he could no longer travel. But as he sat there fingering the worn shirt he started to wonder if in the chase for the dollar he had forgotten what was of more worth.

He could not recall a time when he would have risked himself for another man, with no thought to gain. His own father had been known for miles around as a man who would give a person in need a bag of beans or flour with no expectation of payment. His mother, God rest her soul, knitted sweaters and socks for the local church poor chest. How had he gotten so far from his roots? When he had fled the small town he had grown up in had he fled the values that his parents had instilled within him? When had he ceased to care for his fellow man, and only for the dollar value he represented? Whitaker found himself spending the rest of the night searching his soul for answers, and finding himself deeply surprised at what he found there.

In the early hours of the next morning, Heath led Gal out of the livery stable following Huckmeister and the teamsters leading the mules. Everyone was moving quietly. While the town was quieter than it was the previous night, there were still people moving about. Luckily they were usually drunks making their way home, or last minute visitors leaving the cathouses. Heath kept a wary eye out as they quickly left town heading north. If anyone was watching, he hoped this would throw them off when they turned west.

The mules were loaded with food, lumber, shovels and pans, all purchased in Redding and brought up in covered bundles that had been moved one at a time to the livery. During the night the teamsters had come to the livery one at a time, and had slept in the loft. They had loaded the mules shortly before they left, bringing them into the barn one at a time. Every effort had been made to not draw attention to their actions. As they got outside of town, they swung west and they soon were at the meeting point where the men Heath had hired were waiting. There were five men, all experienced hands, waiting at the spot when Heath rode out ahead of the mules. He moved cautiously around the area to check for any interlopers before he gave a whistle. At the return whistle he went into the clearing where the other men were sitting around a small campfire. They had been camped here, and knew where ready to go. Heath could see that the men had made a good effort to cover up their sign, so that even a good tracker would not know how many men had been here, or how long they had waited. As Heath rode in one of the men poured the last of the coffee on the small fire, and started kicking dirt over the smoldering ash. No words were exchanged as the men saddled up, and as the mules caught up with them, Huckmeister mounted on his horse and leading Elspeth, they filtered into the line, spacing themselves out. Heath let the rest pass through, and with a last glance around the camp followed them into the forest.

Chapter 14

Jarrod leaned back against the seat cushion and sighed, watching the small Anderson rail station disappear behind them. This was the last stop before Redding. As they had feared the late train northbound train had gotten them into Sacramento too late to get many answers. They had to wait until the next day to be sure that Heath had continued on North, which was confirmed by the listing of a black mare in the horse car, transferred from the Stockton train. They had spent the night there, much to the frustration of both Barkleys, and then the next morning left on the northbound train. They had spent the next several hours, taking turns jumping off the train at each stop, asking quick questions, and jumping back on, sometimes as the train was leaving the station. The black mare had not been unloaded in town after town, and a blond young man had not been seen disembarking. The train had stopped for half an hour in Corning, and both of the Barkleys got down and asked their questions. A few horses had been unloaded here, but none of them were black mares. In addition the stationmaster had known Heath by his description and that of the horse. He had looked narrowly at Jarrod who had been asking the questions, and then at Nick who had been hovering impatiently in the background.

“What you want with Heath? I know you boys aren’t the law, so it must be something else. Heath was always a good boy, don’t cotton to setting trouble on his tail.” He said. With that Nick stepped forward and grabbed the man’s vest, half dragging him over the counter before Jarrod could grab him and pry his hand loose. Nick, his hazel eyes blazing, reluctantly let go, but not before glaring at his brother.

‘It’s family business.” He growled to the man. “He’s our brother. Is he in town?”

The man huffed his indignation and straightened his vest. He looked from Jarrod to Nick, as if trying to see the resemblance between them and Heath. “Don’t reckon I ever heard Heath mention no family.” He finally said suspiciously.

“Heath doesn’t mention much of anything. If you know him at all, you know that. We don’t mean him any harm. We simply are trying to find him, there’s something he needs to know about, and he needs to come home. Now can you help us find him?” Jarrod stepped forward, taking back the conversation and giving Nick a warning look. This was not the time for his pushy ways. The stationmaster nodded thoughtfully.

“That’s a fact. Seen dead men more talkative than that boy. Quietest poker player I ever done seen. Ain’t seen one better either, and I’ve been in a few games in my years.” He said, evidently less suspicious since Jarrod seemed to know Heath’s character. His eyes went to Nick as he shifted impatiently. “He isn’t here, but he was, yesterday afternoon. Was on the same train as you, kept on going north. He came in and asked after some of the boys he used to ride with. I told him what I knew and he got back on the train. Got some bad news for him do you?” he asked.

Jarrod and Nick exchanged looks. Why would Heath be asking after old friends? And why was he going to Redding? They had been assuming that Heath was simply fleeing the ranch, now it seemed he was going to somewhere, and for a reason that they didn’t know. Neither one wanted to think about how much harder that could make their search. It was daunting, but they were not prepared to give up, and they saw that determination in each other’s eyes. The stationmaster snapped his fingers, drawing their attention back to him.

“You know, I think he was traveling with someone. There was this old man, dressed kind a shabby that got off the train with Heath; he was walking around, kinda stretching his legs, while Heath was in here talking. I recall how when we were finished Heath went out and talked with the old man, and they got on the train together. Come to think of it, the old man got on the horse car for a few minutes. There were only two horse and a burro on there, so I guess the other animals must have been his.”

“Can you describe this man?” Jarrod asked. He and Nick listened to the description that the stationmaster gave, but neither recognized the man. Finally it was time to reboard the train, and they did so with mixed feelings. At least they knew Heath was headed this way, and they had not missed him at some small stop between here and Stockton, but there was a lot of country to the north, and they knew that Heath was more than able of disappearing into the mountains. They could only hope that it would not be the case. They sat mostly in silence, lost in their own thoughts as the train continued north, past the rolling brown hills and sometimes along the side of the Sacramento river. They could see boats moving on the large river, smaller craft than what came into Stockton, but still moving goods up and down from the Delta. The new train would be putting a stop to that soon Jarrod was sure, moving faster and more regularly, but for now the boats continued. Old ways, Jarrod thought. They were fading away.

As he thought that he had a flash of an old man riding down the street of Stockton, leading a burro behind him. He was the epitome of a miner down from the hills. Jarrod had remembered thinking that the old man was the last of a dying breed. So much of the mining still be done was by the large concerns now. Hard rock mines sunk thousands of feet into the earth. IN the hills around Stockton the placer miners were few and far between. Jarrod had another flash of the last social they had all attended. He had been dancing attendance, literally on Mary St Clair, but he had turned his attention form the beautiful redhead long enough to notice what his siblings were up to through out the night. As always he kept a big brotherly eye on Audra, and he had been amused by Nick’s vigorous laughter from the group of men. He had also been curious about his younger brother’s social acumen. Heath had avoided the dancing, but he had noticed that the young man seemed to find people to chat with, though it seemed he did more listening than talking. One of the people that Heath had talked to had been an old man, his white hair slicked down with pomade and smelling of bay rum from the barbershop. The old miner.

Jarrod nudged Nick with his foot. His brother, who had been staring out the window, lost in his own thoughts turned to him with a questioning look. “Nick, do you remember the miner that was at the social a few weeks ago? I don’t know his name, but he came into town with a horse and a burro. He was there for almost a month. I know that he and Heath talked at the social. They could be traveling together.”

Nick scowled. “Why would Heath be traveling with some old miner? He’ s a cowhand. He’s not going to go chasing off after some claim somewhere. With his hand with horses anyone would hire him on in an instant. Hell, there’s people in the valley that would have taken him.” He said it with a quiet pride, and Jarrod found himself smiling at his younger brother.

“What?” Nick demanded, seeing the smile “What’s so funny?”. He didn’t feel much like smiling himself, and he couldn’t see why Jarrod would either.

“You, brother Nick. I never realized that you were able to flip flop your opinion so swiftly.” At Nick’s puzzled scowl he continued. “You’ve gone from reviling Heath as a lying interloper to being proud of his prowess with horses in a matter of days. It’s quite impressive really. You’ve always been rather set in your ways to say the least. I am…surprised at your change is all.”

Nick harrumphed, and crossed his arms across his chest, knowing that his brother was teasing him. He looked back out the window again, watching the grassland that they passed through. It brought his mind to the ranch, and he found that recently when he thought of the ranch he thought of Heath. He looked back at Jarrod, who was watching him with those piercing eyes. “I was wrong Jarrod, I admit it. I hope that you don’t think that I’m so stuck on myself that I can’t change my mind when it’s right.” He looked away again. “I’ve never been so wrong about something like this before. And it’s never cost me so much…..” He took a deep breath and studied his reflection in the window. “I’ve made Heath’s life miserable, made you and the family angry and disappointed, messed up my engagement, and generally made an @#%$ of myself in front of everyone. I think I’ve paid my dues for being wrong. I don’t want to pay anymore, or have Heath pay for it. We have to find him Jarrod.”

Jarrod nodded. “We will, Brother Nick. If Heath is traveling with the miner, for whatever reason, then it will be easier to pin down where he leaves the train. One man might not be noticeable, but two men, two horses, and a burro are going to be seen and remembered.”

Nick sighed. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right about that. The question is where are they stopping. We still got what three stop before we get to Redding? They could have gotten off at any one of them, and it would have been a day ago. If Heath’s traveling with the miner, then they could take to the hills in any direction. And don’t tell me people would notice them; it ain’t like any miner is going to advertise where he’s prospecting. What do we do then?” he asked.

“We’ll do what we Barkley men do best Brother Nick, we persevere. Father always said that part of his success was that he hung on when other men gave up. We won’t give up until we find Heath.”

“Hang in like he did in Strawberry?” Nick said sarcastically. “He really hung in there till the end didn’t he? Seems like he was there, got his money out of the mine, got Heath’s mother with child, and left. There’s an example to strive for.”

“I prefer to think that we don’t know the full story about that, Nick. Father was a business man, who would have gotten out of the mines when he saw that they were no longer producing, that is after all the time to take your profit and go. As to Heath….I want to think that he didn’t know about him, and that’s why he didn’t go back for him.”

“Well that would be the pretty way out wouldn’t it? That way most of the shine stays on that golden reputation that everyone, including me, made so much of. But you know what Jarrod? I almost don’t care any more. He’s dead and nothing anyone can say is going to change what happened. Whatever the truth, we have a new brother. I think that is the important thing now. I’ve put too much time in thinking about what Heath’s coming meant about Father. Now it’s time to think about what it means to me, the family, and to the ranch, and……to him.” He slammed a fist down on the seat. “Here I am ready to make nice, and he’s God knows where! I’m telling you Jarrod the boy is just naturally contrary!”

Jarrod smiled to himself at the indignation in Nick’s voice. It was good to see that Nick had finally come around about Heath. It had been a long time coming. As much as he enjoyed teasing Nick about his change of mind, Jarrod was not surprised about the depth of feeling that Nick was now showing for Heath. Nick was a man of deep feelings. Once you were in his heart you were there forever or until you proved yourself not worthy to be there. Nick had finally let Heath in, and now Heath was as important to Nick as any other member of his family. Jarrod had come to count on that devotion for himself, and he knew that Heath would do the same in time. As much as he now did not doubt Nick’s feelings about Heath, Jarrod did not doubt that they would find their brother.

As Nick said, it would be infinitely more difficult if Heath had gone with the miner into the hills. Jarrod had hoped that Heath would have simply gotten off the train in Corning and went back to the ranch he had been working at previously. He happened to know that Heath had gotten a letter from the owner of that ranch, asking him to return. It had been in the mail that had been handed to his office clerk. His clerk had simply opened the envelope and added the letter to the pile of letters for him to read. Jarrod, trying to work through the mail before a busy day in court had been part way through the first paragraph before he had realized it was not addressed to him. It was not as if he could forget what he had read, though he did not compound the breach of his brother’s privacy by reading further. He had returned the letter to its envelope and had explained to Heath what had happened that night. His brother had shrugged and taken the letter, and never said a word about the contents. Jarrod had read enough to know that the rancher had offered a highly attractive wage if Heath would return to the ranch to head the horse breeding program. Even the lawyer had heard of the horses from that particular ranch. Jarrod had quietly assumed that it was there that Heath would go now that he had tried to cut himself off from the Barkley’s. Perhaps Heath had thought of Jarrod’s knowledge, and avoided the ranch because of it.

Jarrod didn’t think so however. In the first place he didn’t really think that Heath believed they would come after him. The younger man had a definite lack of faith in the possibility that others might value him for himself, care about him, and want him to stay. Perhaps in that way Nick’s hostility was a comfortable familiarity to Heath. It reaffirmed everything that Heath had come to think about himself. In the second place, even if Heath did think they were coming after him, he would be in no way concerned about facing them. Jarrod had heard the stories about what happened with Wallant, not from Heath, but from Duke and several of the hands. If their brother could face down a whole crew of men without backing down, then facing two brothers would be no problem. It was somewhat amusing for Jarrod to consider that only Heath could not see the Barkley traits that ran so deeply in him.

The train stopped at Red Bluff, where they once again questioned the stationmaster. They ended up back on the train, with only one more stop between there and Redding. It looked as if Heath had gone all the way to the railhead. Unfortunately, as Jarrod had found from talking with the conductor, there were several areas in the hills around Redding that were still being worked by small prospectors. The seemingly endless canyons and valley that were hidden in the Cascade Range had yielded an assortment of minerals, gold among them. There was also talk of there being a strike up near the Klamath River to the several days horse ride to the north. The conductor told them that Redding was busier than usual right now because of the strike, and because the railroad was getting ready to push the railhead on north along the course of the Sacramento. Tunnels were already being started along the proposed route, and there were men coming in expectation of jobs. It wasn’t welcome news to the Barkley brothers. It was more likely that Heath could disappear in the crowd.

Another hour and they were coming into Redding. The other riders were gathering their things, and the two brothers scooped up their saddlebags from the floor under their seats. Once the train stopped they disembarked onto the busy platform, and went into the station. They questioned the man there, and he did indeed remember that a man with a horse and burro had disembarked at the same time the night before. He hadn’t any idea of where he might be going, or if there was another man with him. He could confirm that there was another horse on the car, but couldn’t say if it was a black mare. The Barkley brothers had gone back out, and stood looking down the main street, both at something of a loss as to what steps to take next.

“Do you think we should see the Marshall?” Jarrod asked. He knew that in Stockton, as large as it was compared to Redding, Fred always tried to be aware of new people that came into town. Nick looked around at all the men on the streets, and shook his head.

“I don’t think it would do much good. Unless Heath got into some kind of trouble, he isn’t likely to stand out much in this crowd. It might be better to start checking the liveries. Hopefully they didn’t just get off the train and head out. They would have had to stock up on supplies would be my guess.” Nick suggested. They agreed on this course and decided to go in opposite directions, and then meet at the hotel the conductor had suggested to them.

Several hours later Jarrod, who was sitting on a chair on the porch of the hotel, didn’t have to speak with Nick to know how his search had gone. The very pound of his boots on the sidewalk and the scowl on his face was enough. He threw himself in the chair next to his brother, and scowled at the street. Jarrod gave a small smile and offered him a cigar, which Nick accepted. They smoked for several moments in silence, and Nick finally looked at Jarrod.

“Anything?”

Jarrod shook his head. “Nothing for sure. At least no one would come right out and say that they had kept two horses and a burro for any length of time. I can say for sure they are not in any livery that I was in today. I didn’t see one burro anywhere, and I definitely did not see Gal.” He replied. Nick looked at him closely.

“What do you mean ‘nothing for sure’? Do you think someone was lying to you? I can take care of that.” Nick asked.

Jarrod shrugged, “I think that one of the men was lying when he said he hadn’t had any burros, and I think he may have recognized Heath’s description. He was an old timer; looks to have been here long enough that they built the town around him. I’m thinking that if the miner was a friend, he might not say anything. The horses and burro definitely weren’t there.” He stopped and held up a hand as Nick started to speak. “No, I don’t think you should go talk to him. He won’t talk, and we’d end up alienating a lot of people.”

“But if he knows something..” Nick started.

“Let me finish Nick. You’re not the only one that wants to find Heath.” Jarrod snapped in reminder. Nick looked chastened, and Jarrod continued. “I happened to speak with one of the old man’s helpers. He’s willing to talk to us, but can’t until he gets off. He doesn’t want his boss to know that he’s speaking to us, and will meet us in a saloon at the end of town. He says it’s the only place that he knows the old man won’t go.”

“Well how late is that going to be?” Nick asked.

“He gets off at eight, and will meet us in the saloon at nine. We have to stay here anyway Nick, we might as well get some dinner and maybe some sleep then meet him.”

“The food I’ll go for, but I want to spend some time in the saloons. If Heath were here he probably would have been in at least one. Maybe someone will remember.”

Jarrod nodded in agreement, knowing he couldn’t talk Nick out of it in any event. They went inside and got a room and then went into the hotel restaurant. After a meal they sat for a while drinking some coffee. Outside the light had faded, leaving he street to be lighted by the lamps in the windows of various businesses. Men and women moved in and out of the lights, reappearing at the next island of light. There was faint music coming from a nearby saloon. Jarrod was tired, they had left Sacramento early, and he had not slept well the night before. Nick was no better off, but he knew that Nick’s energy would not allow him to rest at this time. It was probably best that Nick do the saloons on his own anyway. Even when dressed in far more casual cloths than he was usually used to wearing, Nick had informed him years ago that he just didn’t look like a cowhand. He was too polished, to upscale. Of course Nick said it also had something to do with his soft hands, but Jarrod discarded that as the usual teasing. Whatever it was, he knew that Nick was telling him the truth. He had seen it himself. Where Nick could fit in with any crowd, he would find himself isolated.

At nine a frustrated Nick and a slightly refreshed Jarrod entered the saloon at the end of the street. It wasn’t one of the better saloons, having only a makeshift bar, two planks on top of three barrels. The room showed signs of regular fights, and the amount of breakable items was at a minimum. The two brothers opted for beer, seeing as how the whisky looked to be newly made in a tub out back, and possibly contained various things that would not be conductive to continued good health. Not that the beer was very good. It was warm, and slightly flat. They sat, without talking, pretending to nurse their beers. It gave them a reason not to drink them. Luckily it was only a few minutes later that a young red-haired man entered the saloon and came to sit with them. He eyed the beer that sat in front of each of them with envy, and Jarrod seized the opportunity to slide his mug toward the younger man.

He grabbed the mug and chugged down half the contents without stopping. He then put the mug down and smiled at the brothers. “Man that hits the spot. You can only drink so much water then you gotta have something better.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.” Jarrod said with a forced smile. Nick sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes. The redhead finished off the rest of the beer in Jarrod’s mug and started eyeing Nick’s. Jarrod cleared his throat to get his brother’s attention then nodded at the beer. Nick scowled then shoved the beer toward the younger man. Before it could be picked up Jarrod put his hand over it and got the man’s attention.

“You said that you had some information about two horses and a burro, from yesterday.” He reminded the man.

“Yeah, a friend of the old mans, came up on the train I guess. He was only staying in town for a little while, but the old fart made me curry out the donkey and one of the horses. The other guy took care of the mare himself so at least I didn’t have to do that.” He groused. Nick and Jarrod exchanged glances. Heath had always insisted on taking care of Gal himself, no matter where they might be. Even with Ciego available at the ranch he always did his own work.

“When did they leave?” Jarrod said, falling back on his legal training to allow him to ask questions calmly while his feelings were in an uproar.

“Pulled out really early this morning. Don’t know where to, though. Wasn’t none of them talking, including the old man. I didn’t see them go if that’ s your next question.”

Jarrod asked several other questions, and was satisfied that the man had no further answers to give them. He removed his hand from the mug and tossed a five dollar gold piece on the table. It quickly disappeared into the redhead’s pocket as he picked up the mug. Jarrod and Nick quickly left the saloon, and stood in the moonlit street. Nick waved hi arms around them, indicating the mountains that surrounded the small town on all but one side.

“That’s just dandy!” he nearly yelled. “They left this morning for who knows where. What do we do now? There are lots of places they could have gone.”

“True, and we’ll look in them all. Tomorrow we’ll see about renting some horses, and start asking questions outside of town. Someone must have seen them. There’s a lot of people moving around, and they didn’t just disappear from here and appear someplace else magically.” They started toward the hotel, dodging men moving between the saloons. They didn’t speak as they reached their room and climbed into their beds. As they lay there in the dark, each one found it hard to sleep.

The next day they rented horses and headed north, thinking that perhaps the miner had been headed toward the newest strike in Yreka. They still didn’t know why Heath was with the man, but they were assuming since the horses had been boarded together, and seemed to have left at the same time that they were still traveling together. They spent the day speaking with people heading south on the trail, and stopping at small ranches and farms. By the end of the day they returned to Redding with no information. Nick was frustrated and angry. Jarrod was frustrated and saddle sore. Nick went off to the saloon to have a drink, and continue questioning anyone that he thought could help, and Jarrod stopped by the telegraph station to send a non-committal note to Victoria and Audra. He wished they could offer more optimism, but they would not thank him for building false hope.

They spent another night in the hotel, conversation at a minimum. Jarrod could tell that the search was wearing on Nick’s patience, but knew that his brother would never give up. He just hoped that they could find Heath soon. Nick’s mood was not going to improve, and he could be difficult to deal with when he was moody. He could be overly aggressive, and that made getting cooperation difficult. They would need all the cooperation they could get. The next day was much the same, this time they headed east up to the lumber camps. They went to three different camps, but no one had seen anyone meeting the description. They did learn that there had been no strikes in the area, and it seemed very doubtful that a miner would be interested in traveling this direction. That left only the west, and they would head that way tomorrow.

The next morning they came into the restaurant to find it busy. There were no available tables, but at one of the tables sat the owner of the livery stable where the horses and burro had been. The old man eyed them with some disdain it seemed, then motioned them to join him. The two brothers sat down and ordered their breakfast. The old man, finished with his own, sat back and sipped at a cup of coffee. He seemed to be studying the two Barkleys minutely. Finally he sat the coffee cup down and leaned forward.

“Word is around town that you’re still looking for that pair of fellows. Seem mighty determined..” he observed.

“We are determined, and we aren’t going to stop looking. Not until we find our brother.” Nick growled. Jarrod sighed. If Nick had been in a bad mood yesterday, then today he was like a bear with a sore tooth. He put a hand on the black clad arm, and leaned forward.

“We are, as my brother says, still looking Mr. Hart. We know that our brother and the man he was traveling with were here, and it is just a matter of time until we find out which direction they went when they left. Until that time, we will be visiting your lovely town I’m afraid.”

“Blond fella was you brother you say?” the old man asked.

Nick bristled. “Yes, he is our brother, and if you know something..”

“Nick!” Jarrod snapped, getting his younger brother’s attention before he could say anything further. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a nickel. He tossed it to Nick who caught it with a puzzled look. ‘Why don’t you go get us a paper? I understand a new one came out today, and I would like to read the local news. There could be something of interest.” Jarrod saw the protest rise in Nick’s eyes, but he cut his own eyes toward the old man, who was watching the exchange with interest. Nick scowled, but then pushed his chair back and with an angry jingle of spurs exited the room.

“Got a temper on that one.” The old man said and took another sip at his coffee. “Bet he and the blond one are a handful.”

“Indeed, Mr. Hart, they are.” Jarrod said. The waitress put a cup of coffee in front of the lawyer and he gratefully sipped it. He set it down and looked at the old man. “If you have any information Mr. Hart we would deeply appreciate it if you would share it with us. We want to find our brother and bring him home. Our mother and sister are waiting, and as you can see my brother is impatient.”

“How do I know you aren’t trying to catch this boy for something else? Or aren’t after the old man he’s traveling with for some reason? I got no reason to trust either of you, were I to knowing anything that is.” The old man hedged.

Jarrod leaned forward and with all the sincerity that he could muster looked the man in the eye. “Mr. Hart. I care deeply for my brother Heath, as does my brother Nick. I can’t give you any assurances beyond my word that what we say is the truth, but it is. If you know anything, anything at all, that would help us find my brother, we would be eternally grateful.”

The old man looked at him for several minutes, and then sighed. “All right. I kept the burro and horses in my place overnight. Old Rufus is a friend of mine. That’s why I didn’t want to set you on their trail with out some idea of what you were after.”

“Then you do know where they were headed?” Jarrod asked. This could be the break they needed so badly.

“Well, not exactly. Rufus isn’t about to say much about where he prospects, even to an old friend. But I do know which way they was headed.” The old man looked around as if to be sure that no one was listening. “They went from here up to Shasta City, in the hills to the west. Old Rufus had him a group of mules and teamsters ready to go put to his claim. The boy was putting together a group to guard the claim and the mules on the way back. Seemed to know what he was doing, I gotta say, even for a youngster.”

“Let me see if I understand you.” Jarrod said, wanting to be sure he understood the circumstances. “This prospector had made a strike then? He needed someone to guard him while he mined the claim, and then to get his gold back to town I assume.”

“That’s the ticket.” The old man said. He looked around again. “There’s certain folk up around Shasta that he was afraid of you see. They got the place under their heel pretty well, and Rufus was afraid he would be followed and robbed. He run into your brother down in Stockton, I guess, hired him on to boss the crew of guards.”

“Were they going to stay in this Shasta for any length of time?” Jarrod was hoping that they could simply ride to Shasta and find Heath. It would be almost anticlimactic, but certainly nice. But the old man was shaking his head.

“Don’t reckon they were. My understanding was they were going to gather up the teamsters and get a few supplies that they didn’t take with them from here, and then go. Might have been yesterday or today, don’t know which. They were hoping to sneak outta town, so I figure it would have been at night whenever it was.” He finished his coffee and stood. He tossed a few dollars on the table for his meal. “Good luck to you, on finding your brother. I can tell you one thing, was I you. I would be careful how I was asking questions up there in Shasta. You don’t want to leading those men to Rufus and your brother.” He wondered off. Nick, who had been hovering in the foyer, came back to the table.

“Well, did you manage to get anything out of the old fart?” he asked, nodding at the waitress as she sat a cup of coffee in front of him. He spun the nickel that Jarrod had tossed him on the table in front of his brother.

“As a matter of fact Brother Nick, I did. He says that the miner had a claim somewhere to the west of here, and that he hired Heath to boss the guards that he needed to protect the claim and the gold he took out. I take it there’s a group of thieves that have the area under their thumb up there. They were supposed to stop over in a town called Shasta to the west of here, but the old man didn’t know how long they were going to be staying. I understand that Heath hired the guards while they were here, and they are meeting the teamsters for the mules up there.”

Nick surged to his feet. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go, they could be leaving while we’re sitting here jawing.” Jarrod reached out and grabbed Nick’s arm and pulled him back into the chair.

“We can’t just go charging in asking questions Nick, as Mr. Hart pointed out we don’t want to lead the outlaws right to Heath and the claim. Also, the old man said that the plan was for the group to leave at night, or early in the morning when they wouldn’t be seen. If that is the case they are either already gone, or will be there until tonight at the least. We have time to eat breakfast, then we can rent some horses and head out.”

Nick settled with ill grace, and devoured the breakfast the waitress soon set before them in record time. Jarrod found himself eating quickly too, despite his calming words to Nick. He wanted to be on their way. They finished quickly and went upstairs to pack their things. They checked out of the hotel and started toward the livery where they had rented horses the days before. As they walked toward it they had to stop to allow the morning stage to go by, and they both watched it pull up at the small station down the street from the livery. Jarrod was focused on their destination, and so was surprised when Nick grabbed his arm and dragged him to a halt.

“Nick! What’s going on? I thought you were so all fired in a hurry to go.” He demanded, but looking at his brother he could see that his attention was not on him. Instead he was looking down the street toward the stage. Jarrod followed his gaze, and saw what had taken his brother’s attention. A tall, blond man, wearing as tan hat, tan trousers and a blue work shirt had evidently just gotten off the stage. He was walking away from them, carrying a small black carpetbag. As Jarrod watched the figure disappeared around the corner. Nick started forward, dragging Jarrod with him. They practically ran to the corner, but could not catch sight of the figure again among the people on the street. Either he had turned again, or had stepped into any one of several businesses that were already open. Nick gestured toward one side of the street.

“You take that side, I’ll take this side. We’ll meet at the end if we don’t find him.” He started forward, but this time it was Jarrod that grabbed an arm.

“It might not have been him Nick. There are others that wear the same clothes and have blond hair. This might be a wild goose chase.” Jarrod warned.

“Yeah, it could be. And so could the miner up in the hills. For all we know it isn’t even Heath that went up into the hills with the old man. He could be miles away, hundreds of miles. But I don’t think we should take the chance of this being a coincidence, do you?” Nick argued. Jarrod could not dispute his brother’s reading of the situation. It did seem strange that a man matching Heath’s description should just happen to be on the stage here in Redding. They started down the street, slipping into the businesses that were open. Jarrod had worked his way halfway down the block when he heard a piercing whistle. He hadn’t heard that particular sound since he had been a boy, playing with Nick out on the range. Nick had been very proud of his ability to make the piercing sound, and had used it whenever he could. Their mother had despaired of ever getting him not to do so in the house. Of course he had soon started yelling instead. AS then, Jarrod knew that he was being summoned. He started across the street to where Nick was standing. His brother was standing near a young boy who had a bundle of papers draped over his arm. He was obviously selling the sheets. As Jarrod walked up, his bright eyes went from Nick to him and back. Nick put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Jarrod, this is Bobby. He saw a man like we’re looking for go toward the train station. He stopped and bought a paper. Bobby here says he had real blue eyes.” Nick said meaningfully as he jerked a thumb down the alley leading toward the main street and the station. Jarrod looked down the alley and nodded.

“Very good Brother Nick. Looks like you finally found a reliable witness. Have you given him something for his trouble?”

“I uh…”Nick leaned toward Jarrod. “He says he don’t want to take charity.” Jarrod took that to mean that his generous brother had already offered a large sum to the boy, only to be turned down. He looked at the boy, seeing a thin child of only seven or eight years. He had shaggy bond hair that dropped into his eyes, eyes of a sapphire blue. The child was thin, perhaps too thin, and his clothes were ragged but clean. Jarrod had a sudden flash of another blond haired child, doing whatever was necessary to bring in money and too proud to take what he hadn’t earned. He crouched down so that he was on eye level with the boy. He took a twenty dollar gold piece from his pocket, and watched the blue eyes widen. He suspected the boy had never before seen such denominations, except in passing.

“I hope that you know that you have been very helpful to us. We have been looking for our brother, and you may have just helped us find him. Do you have a brother?” He asked. The boy nodded. “That’s very good. Is he a younger brother?” the head nodded again. The eyes did not leave the gold piece. “Now, if your brother was missing, like ours is, wouldn’t you give anything you could to someone who helped you find him?” The blue eye shifted to meet his own.

“I reckon I would give anything to get him back, even if sometime I wish he’d go away. He’s my brother.” The boy said simply. Jarrod reached out and took the boy’s hand in his, and placed the golden eagle in the small palm. He closed the small fingers on the coin.

“Good, then you understand why we want to give you this, to thank you for your help finding OUR brother.” The boy opened his hand and stared at the coin for a long minute. Then he looked up at Jarrod who had risen to his feet, then at Nick. He slowly closed his fist around the coin again, and then slipped it into his pocket. He bit his lip.

“I hope you find him, your brother I mean. I would sure miss Billy, and my momma would cry all the time if he was gone.” The boy said. Nick reached over and ruffled the blond hair, and Jarrod could tell by the look in his eye that eh too was seeing another small blond child, to young to be responsible for bringing in money to his family. “Thanks misters.” He said, and took off running down the street. Nick and Jarrod exchange looks, and Nick shook his head at whatever he saw in Jarrod’s eyes. He wasn’t ready to talk about his now.

They went down the alley and came out near the station. There was no sign of the man they had seen on the platform. They went into the building, and came to a halt just inside the door. There at the ticket window, his back to the door was the man they had seen. They exchanged glances again. Finally they stepped forward until they were standing behind the other man. They could hear the clerk talking as he prepared the ticket, a ticket to Sacramento. Could Heath be going home?

As he stood there waiting to see the man’s face, Nick suddenly realized that this could not be Heath. His mind went back to all the times he had tried to sneak up on the boy at the ranch, wanting to catch him off guard, to startle him, to put him at a disadvantage. He had never succeeded. Heath on the other hand had always been sneaking up on Nick. He moved smoothly and silently, and he was always aware of who was around him, and would have at least turned to see who had walked up behind him He looked at Jarrod and shook his head. He saw the puzzlement in Jarrod’s eyes. He didn’t take the time to explain. He had started to turn, when he saw the patch. It was a long patch of slightly bluer material on the right arm of the blue shirt. He had seen that patch before, had caused the rip that it covered, and had known shame for the first time over the treatment he was giving the man that was his brother.

It had been a hot afternoon over five weeks ago. They had been working on a fence together, one of the few times that they had done so. Nick had been pulling the barbed wire while Heath hammered in the nails to hold it in place. It was tiring and dreary work in the heat. The stretch of fence they were working on seemed to go on forever, and even though they were making good time, Nick had been frustrated. He had been unable to keep from making suggestions as to how Heath should do something, and when Heath had simply gone on doing what he had been doing all along, Nick had felt the anger that so quickly came to the fore with his new brother boil up in side. He had simply let go of the strand of barbed wire he had been holding, and had instantly regretted the action. He saw the wire swing rapidly toward Heath, and only his brother’s hair-trigger reflexes had kept the sharpened wire from cutting across his face. Instead he had swung up his right arm, and the twisted barb had torn through the blue material and ripped into his arm. Heath had not made a sound, but his blue eyes had turned icy blue and had glared in anger at Nick.

He had gone to his horse without a word, and washed the wound with water from his canteen. He had found a rag in his saddlebag, and had wrapped it around the wound. Then he had come back to where Nick had stood like a statue and picked up the hammer again as if nothing had happened. Nick had tried to apologize, sickened at how he had let his anger take control, but Heath had refused to so much as look at him the rest of the day. Nothing had been said at the table that night, and Nick had noticed that Heath had been wearing the patched shirt a couple of days later. At first he had assumed that Heath wore the shirt as a taunt, rubbing it in Nick’s face that he had driven him to such petty measures, then after an uninvited, and completely inappropriate visit to Heath’s room one afternoon when he had known the younger man was out on the range, he had found that Hath had only two shirts, the one he was wearing that day, a tan color, and the blue one with a patch. Evidently his mother had discovered the same thing not too long after and had all but dragged Heath into town on a Saturday to buy some shirts. Only the steadfast demand of the small woman had prevailed on the young man to buy two new shirts for use on a daily basis. The two shirts had been among those things Heath had left behind.

This might not be Heath, but he was wearing his brother’s shirt. Nick had to act. He reached out and grabbed the man’s shoulder and spun him around. The clerk cried out in surprise, and Nick heard Jarrod call out his name, but the man made not a sound. As it turned out neither did Nick as he found himself staring down the barrel of a small derringer that had appeared from seemingly nowhere and into the man’s hand. Looking past the barrel of the small, but deadly gun, Nick could see that this man was older than Heath by a good fifteen years, maybe more. His blond hair, that which could be seen under the hat, was a shade darker than Heath’s and the blue eyes were more the color of Jarrod’s rather than the sky blue of his younger brother. The eyes were just as cold as Heath's had been that day of the barbed wire, and Nick was wondering if he had made a larger mistake than just thinking this man was his brother.

Continued...