A Tale of Two Mothers

By Katlynn

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

This story was written in response to a challenge to turn Palms of Glory around … Victoria was the one who was unfaithful and had a child who shows up several years after her death. Typical of my challenge responses, I didn’t follow it exactly. In order for my storyline to work, Tom still had to die and Victoria still had to be the surviving parent … whose son just happened to show up on her doorstep one day.

Chapter 1

"Heath…" his mother quietly breathed out as he sat dozing in the chair next to her bed, his arm extended as he gently held her hand.

It was the first word he'd heard from her since he'd gotten home, fearful from her silence that he was too late - that he wouldn't have the chance to hear her sweet voice just one more time. With that single word, he was jolted awake and fell to his knees at the side of her bed. She reached up weakly to brush her hair back and he tenderly arranged it for her behind her ears.

"I was so afraid…" she whispered, "…that you wouldn't get here … in time."

"Don't talk, Mama. You need to save your strength 'til we can get a doctor here to see you," he drew her quilt up higher as she visibly shivered.

"No…" she said, "…I've seen a doctor. There's nothing … to be done. It's my time…"

"No, Mama, that can't be true. There has to be somethin' we can do to make you better. Somethin' I can do for you."

"No … there's nothing," she shook her head slightly. "But there's something … I can do for you. Please … get me my Bible."

He didn't hesitate. He left the tiny bedroom to get the well-worn and well-read Bible his mother had always kept on a small table next to her wooden rocking chair. He doubted she'd be able to read it but if it would bring her comfort to have him read it to her, he'd do that - even if he'd long ago begun to wonder if the God she'd taught him about was actually out there watching over them. There were certainly times during his life when he'd doubted that. His Mama surely believed - but he didn't know how she could sometimes when he saw how hard she struggled.

His mother seemed to be asleep again when he returned to her room but her hand reached out to him and he extended the Bible, thinking that's what she sought. Her fingers lightly curled around his wrist and pulled him towards her so he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Is there a special passage you want me to read, Mama?"

"No … no reading. Open it to … First Corinthians … chapter 13."

He knew enough to know that it was somewhere in the New Testament and began to silently recite the books to find his place … Matthew … Mark … Luke … John … Acts … Romans … there it was, he found it just before the words came to him. A yellowed clipping from a newspaper fell out as the page opened and he picked it up absently as he read words in the Bible that had been carefully underlined. Love is patient … love is kind … love does not delight in evil … love never fails. Words his mother had read to him many times, almost always when he asked about his father.

His eyes went to the news clipping and he turned it over before realizing what it was. The obituary of a man. An obituary that just happened to fall out of the page his mother directed him to. With underlined words that she almost always read to him when he asked about his father. How could he not have seen it at least once? It had to be his father! He was sure he was looking at a picture of his father. And as that realization hit him, he knew that his mother really WAS dying. She wouldn't want to tell him about his father unless she was.

"Mama, I don't want to know about him!"

"Heath … I MUST tell you," her voice sounded stronger. "Please. I know my time … is short. But … it's not … what you think. He's not your father."

He'd been so sure. Why would she keep an old news clipping in the very page that she read to him when he asked about his father if this wasn't the man she'd always spoken of so fondly?

"Then who is he, Mama?"

"He's the only man … I was ever truly … in love with…" she took his hand.

"Then he IS my father!" Heath said angrily. "Well I DON'T want to know about him."

"No!" his mother coughed. "No … he's not your … father."

"Mama, I don't understand. You say that he's the only man you were ever truly in love with. And EVERY time I asked about my father, all you'd tell me was that I was given to you by the only man you were ever truly in love with. So he must be my father! And he never did anythin' to help you! I don't want to know about him!"

"Heath … I don't … want to tell you … about your father. But … I need … to tell you … about your mother."

"Mama, I know everythin' I need to know about you," he leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"No, Heath … you don't," her voice quivered. "I still remember … the first time you said … 'Mama'. It was … a lie … that I've let you live with … until now. But I have to tell you … the truth. I've cherished … being your Mama … but … I'm not your mother."

He felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked from his lungs and he struggled to take a breath. His mouth moved as though he was trying to speak but no sound came out. He shook his head and she could see the question in the eyes that never left hers.

"It's true, Heath … I'm not your … mother."

Almost angrily, he turned to the front of the Bible and pointed at the record of his birth. "It says … right here in your Bible … it says Heath Thomson born to Leah Thomson!"

"It's a lie…"

"No, Mama. You wouldn't have put it here in your Bible if it was a lie!"

"I tried … to live a good life … to make up for the most selfish thing … a woman can do."

"Mama, you don't have a selfish bone in your body," again, he shook his head. "I don't understand what you're sayin', Mama."

"Get me … my medicine," she asked. "I … don't like to take it … but I need the strength to … tell you all that I must. Please, Heath … and I'll tell you … the whole story."

He placed the Bible on the bed and rested her hand on top of it. He didn't know where her medicine would be so he went in search of his Aunt Rachel and found her on the front porch with Hannah.

"She wants her medicine," he had to struggle to control his voice.

"Of course," Rachel stood up quickly.

"Aunt Rachel … is it true? That she's not my mother?"

"Don't you judge her, Heath Thomson!"

"I'm not judgin' her! I'm just askin'! She said she's not my mother and wants her medicine so she'll have the strength to explain."

Rachel nodded slowly. "She was so afraid you wouldn't get here in time. She made me promise to tell you if she wasn't able to. I'll give her the medicine and then you can go back to talk to her. If you have questions after that, I'll answer them the best I'm able. But it's Leah's story to tell … as much as she's able. She won't feel that she's atoned for her sins if she doesn't try to set things right."

Rachel hurried into the house and Heath stood there numbly, looking up at the evening sky. Memories came at him so quickly that he almost couldn't process one before another replaced it. Nothing suggested to him that his Mama was anything other than - his Mama. But - she wasn't! All those times that she'd told him that the only man she'd ever truly been in love with had given him to her … it had all been a lie!

He jumped as a hand touched his shoulder. Hannah patted his shoulder then rubbed his arm. "It good you come. Miss Leah, she be okay now. She goin' home. No more pain. She be okay."

No more pain…

If it were only that simple. His whole life had been a lie! How do you get over something like that without pain? It would have been better if the man HAD been his father. He was already angry at him. Being angry at his Mama was something completely new. He couldn't ever remember being angry at her. Never!

The door opened behind him and Rachel beckoned him in.

She could tell at a glance that anger boiled just below the surface and she cautioned him before he could step past her. "Listen with an open heart and an open mind. Whatever else you're thinking right now, you have to remember that that woman raised you like you were her own. She loved you with all her heart. You were her golden child. None of that is a lie."

He nodded and said almost reluctantly, "I know."

"She's afraid you'll hate her."

"I could never hate her," he said softly as he shook his head.

"Then go in there and tell her you love her," Rachel stepped aside. "And then just listen."

"I will," he promised.

Chapter 2

She'd been concerned that he wouldn't come back. He could see that fear in her eyes the moment he walked into the bedroom. Knowing that he was the cause of that fear stabbed him in the heart and he quickly crossed to the bed and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

"I love you, Mama. Nothin' you tell me will ever change that."

"And nothing I tell you will ever change … that I loved you from the first moment I saw you," her voice was notably stronger than it had been.

"I know," he acknowledged as he pulled the chair as close as he could before he sat down.

She was silent for so long that he reached for her hand, rubbing it gently as though urging her to begin.

Finally she did.

"His name was Thomas Barkley. He really was the only man I was ever in love with," her voice was stronger still and he knew the medicine was doing what she wanted it to do. "He came to Strawberry to begin working a mine he'd bought. From the first time I saw him, I knew he was different than the others who came here to make their fortune. He had a tent out by the mine but he stayed at the hotel many nights. He'd come in to eat and that's how I first met him. We'd talk a little but mostly he'd eat and leave like all the others."

She paused, looking at the water glass on the bedside table. He held it for her as she took a few sips, content to let her take her time. He wasn't going to hurry her. He knew these were probably the last moments he'd spend with her and regardless of what she was going to tell him, he needed to savor these moments.

"One night about a month after we first met," she continued, "I was leaving the hotel and heard a noise in the alley. It sounded like someone groaning. I only had to take a couple steps into the alley to find him lying there. He'd been beaten and robbed - and I tried to get Matt to help me take him up to a room in the hotel but he refused. He said he didn't want him dying in one of his beds. I offered to take care of him and Matt said it wouldn't be proper for me to spend time in a hotel room alone with a stranger.

"So I went to get Jacob … you remember him, don't you?" she asked.

"Of course. Aunt Rachel's husband."

She nodded and took a moment to think fondly of the man who was probably a memory to Heath in name only. He'd died when Heath was barely four years old.

"Jacob helped me get him to my tent. I didn't have this cabin then. So we took him to my tent and I nursed him back to health. When he was ready to be out there on his own again, neither one of us wanted him to leave.

"He never lied to me … but he never told me the truth, either. Not until about four months had gone by. Then one day he told me he had to leave. He said the men he'd hired to work the mine were good, honest men and he could trust them to do a proper job for him," she recalled. "And then he told me that it was time to get back to his family."

He helped her take another drink, then gently wiped away the tears at the corners of her eyes.

"He sent me a letter … and I thought that was the end of it. He said I was the only woman other than his wife who he ever could have loved. And he told me I should get married and have a family. I never expected to see him again," she said softly, shaking her head.

"But you did?" Heath prompted.

She nodded. "It was almost seven months later. He drove in here in a carriage with a basket at his side. It was a Sunday … the only day I didn't have to work in the hotel restaurant. He drove his carriage through town and right up to my tent. You started crying as soon as the carriage stopped. It must have rocked you to sleep … and then you were jolted awake.

"He handed the basket down to me and I set it on the ground and took you in my arms for the first time. You were so tiny … and … and perfect. It was truly love at first sight," she recalled fondly. "Of course I wondered why he was traveling alone with a baby. It wasn't something I'd have expected to see him do. We went into the tent … and he told me why he'd brought you to Strawberry. He said … that he wanted me to take you and raise you as if you were my own.

"Of course, I asked where he'd gotten you … and he said that you were his wife's child by another man. He said … he didn't think he could love another man's child … so they'd decided that it was best to … um … to give the child to someone else to raise. He told me his wife would only agree to it if he promised not to take you to an orphanage."

Again they paused as he helped her take a drink.

She looked at him with glassy eyes as she said, "I believed him … because I wanted to. But … I don't think a woman would willingly give up her child. Thomas had a very forceful way about him. People did things because he wanted them to … and it might not always be what THEY really wanted to do," she shook her head. "But I really did love you the moment I saw you … so I believed him. I told myself that I was doing it for you … but I really did it for myself. It was the most selfish thing I've ever done. I took another woman's child."

Tears fell from her eyes as she confessed what she felt was the worst possible thing one woman could do to another.

"Mama…" Heath moved to the edge of the bed and gently pulled her up and into his arms.

He let her cry and didn't say a word. It was a lot to take in and even if he'd been inclined to speak, he didn't know what to say. He gently rubbed her back, hoping that his actions would speak as loud as any words could.

After a minute, he heard her sniffle and he reached for her handkerchief. He helped her lie back against the pillows and waited silently while she composed herself. Finally, after he helped her take a drink, he was the one to speak.

"Mama … you had no choice. You couldn't have known what he'd do if you said 'no'. There was nothin' else you could do."

"I told myself the same," she said softly. "But I never tried to find out. I didn't want to do something that would make him take you away. He told me he was selling his interest in the mine that first brought him here. And he hired some men to build us this cabin. He said he would send me money every year so I'd never have to worry about taking care of you. And he did for a couple of years," she seemed to be defending him. "Then the money stopped coming … but I don't think he stopped sending it. I think Matt found out about it and took the money before it could get to me."

"Yeah…" Heath whispered more to himself than her, "…that would be somethin' he'd do."

"I never told Matt how I'd come to have you. He wasn't here the day Thomas came. He'd gone to Sonora for supplies and got back three or four days later. Thomas was here and gone in the same day and I'm sure he either paid well for the silence of others or … he threatened them. Either way, no one ever talked about that day. I know that Matt wanted to know how I could take care of a child if I wasn't working. But he never let on that he knew anything. The money just stopped coming and I don't think it was because Thomas stopped sending it."

She reached for her Bible and he picked it up and placed it in her hands. She opened the front cover and peeled back the worn leather a bit to pull out a piece of paper. It was folded over twice and she gave it to him still folded.

"It's your birth certificate," she said as he unfolded it.

"Why is it burned?" he asked, running his finger along the burnt edge.

"Thomas showed it to me so I'd know that what he said was true," she explained. "Then, just before he walked out, he threw it in the fireplace. It was already burning before I could pull it out and I dunked it in a bucket of water. I dried it out and placed it inside my Bible so … even if the lie was there, the truth was there too. It says that your mother is Victoria Barkley," she said unnecessarily.

He nodded as he read the words. "Heath Morgan…" he said quietly, "…with no last name."

"And no father listed," she said what she knew he was thinking. "I don't think Thomas knew who your father was. If he did know, he never told me who it was. Oh, he'd have wanted to know. But he wouldn't have forced his wife to tell him. He wouldn't have hesitated to hit another man but he wasn't the kind to physically hurt a woman. So if she didn't want to tell him…"

Her voice trailed off and he looked up to see her eyes closed, her Bible folded in her arms against her chest.

"Mama…?" he touched her arm.

Her eyes were weary as she looked at him. "I'm tired. I just need … a few minutes … then you can ask me … whatever you want to know."

*****

She never did open her eyes again.

She slipped away peacefully less than an hour after she finished her tale. She'd told him what she had to and he swore that the look on her face was one of peace. He didn't have any tears for her - he figured they'd come one day. But not now. He'd seen what her illness had taken out of her and took comfort in the fact that, as Hannah said, there was no more pain. He knew he'd been given a gift in that last hour or so with her. There were questions he'd have liked to ask - but he knew she'd told him everything she'd known. And really it was everything he needed to know.

He buried her in a simple casket that he made himself, in a simple grave with a wooden cross to mark the spot. Except for the grave of Jacob Caulfield, the small cemetery near Strawberry's abandoned church was overgrown with weeds. But Heath knew that as long as Rachel or Hannah took a breath, his mother's grave would be as well tended as Jacob's.

He tried to get them to leave Strawberry with him. He wanted to take them to a town where he could more easily take care of them. But Strawberry was the home they'd known for at least twenty-five years and neither wanted to leave. He'd known they'd refuse - his mother had never wanted to leave either. So he spent a day making small repairs to Rachel's cabin, where Hannah would now join her. Took another few days to drive them to Sonora for supplies. Made sure that Rachel's small account at the Sonora bank had enough money to take care of them, even though it left little money in his own pocket. He'd always been able to live off the land and knew he could do it again if he had to.

And then he left, headed vaguely in the direction of Stockton - and taking his time about getting there. He wasn't sure what he would do when he got there - IF he got there. He hadn't really made up his mind to look up Victoria Barkley. He didn't need the guidance of a mother the way a young child might have. But clearly his Mama had wanted him to find her. Why else would she have told him?

Chapter 3

Inevitably, Heath rode into Stockton. Even as he told himself that he wasn't sure if he cared to meet Victoria Barkley, he knew he'd end up in Stockton. He hadn't been in a hurry to get there - it took him a week to make the trip that he could have made in a day. But he knew he wouldn't be able to get on with his life unless he satisfied his curiosity about the woman who'd given birth to him and then given him away.

He found that you didn't even have to ask to hear the name 'Barkley'. It was a well-known and respected name - it was obvious that Victoria Barkley was well regarded in Stockton. He knew from the obituary that she and Thomas Barkley had four children - his siblings. His half-siblings, he automatically corrected himself. The obituary hadn't mentioned their names but he knew that one of them must be Nick. He heard the name tossed around in the saloon - some said it with respect and some with disdain. He used his need to find work as the excuse to ask someone how to find the Barkley Ranch. Even as he asked, though, he still wasn't sure what he was going to do.

But just a couple of hours after being given directions, he found himself dismounting in front of a stately white mansion. He had to remind himself that as far as he knew from his Mama, Victoria Barkley was as much an innocent party as his Mama was. If his Mama's instincts were right, Victoria Barkley would never have been a willing participant in what Thomas Barkley had done. And with Thomas Barkley gone six years now, he'd have to listen to the man's widow - his mother - with the same open mind that Rachel had demanded of him before he listened to his Mama. He wasn't sure he could do it with the open heart that she'd also demanded.

He knew that it would be a struggle to hold his anger because looking up at the grand, two-story columns that framed the front door, the only thing he could think was that his Mama had struggled for as long as he could remember while Victoria Barkley had lived an elegant life. She'd allowed her baby to be given to a woman who labored long and hard to raise that child - while the home in front of him said Victoria Barkley had lived a life of luxury. But for his Mama - because he knew she'd sent him here - he'd try to listen without letting that anger bubble over.

He rapped on the door three times with the brass knocker then took a step back and waited. A muffled voice from inside - it sounded like a woman's voice - called out that she would answer it. He felt his heart hammering in his chest as he wondered if he'd just heard the voice of his mother.

The door opened to reveal a slender woman with silvery white hair who stood less than five-and-a-half feet tall. Her blue blouse and black skirt looked well tailored - they were clothes that spoke of a woman who could afford to have them made especially for her rather than having to buy them off the rack in the dry goods store. Her blue eyes held a touch of gray and they looked at him questioningly.

"If you're looking for work," she finally said when he just silently stared, "I'm afraid my son, Nick, is away. He runs the ranch and does all the hiring."

"Umm … no…" he stammered, knowing he was seeing his mother for the first time. "I'm … lookin' for Victoria Barkley."

"I'm Victoria Barkley."

He removed his hat, suddenly thinking of his Mama and her rules of proper etiquette, one of which he'd learned from a young age - a gentleman always removes his hat in the presence of a lady. And that thought of his Mama made him wonder if he was doing the right thing. She wouldn't have told him about Victoria Barkley if she hadn't wanted him to seek out his mother. But he somehow felt disloyal to his Mama now that he was standing in front of his mother.

He suddenly wanted to turn and walk away but instead heard himself saying, "Ma'am, my name is Heath Morgan Thomson. I…"

He moved quickly as he saw the woman's eyes get wider, then roll up in her head as her knees began to give way. She was feather light in his arms as he caught her before she hit the floor.

*****

He'd called for help and a black man in a white shirt and black trousers and vest had hurried into the foyer from somewhere in the back of the house.

"Miz Barkley!" he came to a stop when he saw the Barkley matriarch in the arms of a stranger.

"I think she fainted," Heath told him.

"Bring her in this way!" the man had directed, then led him into the parlor that opened to the left of the foyer.

He'd lowered her onto a light green brocade settee then stepped back to let the other man close. But she started to stir even as he stepped away and now, ten minutes later, she was sitting up drinking a cup of tea as though nothing had happened. She'd invited Heath to sit in an armchair facing her with a small coffee table between them. A tray with a cup of coffee, sugar and cream had been placed on the table for him by Silas, the houseman, but it was untouched as he silently watched her.

The anger he'd carried to the door had dissipated, replaced by concern. Concern that was definitely uninvited. He wanted to be angry at her but as he watched her hand shake as she brought the cup of tea to her mouth, he found that he couldn't be. The mere mention of his name had clearly shaken her up and he needed to know if that was because she thought she'd never see him again - or because she'd HOPED she'd never see him again.

Finally, she set her tea down and picked up the folded paper that Heath had set on the table.

He waited while she read the birth certificate but when she didn't say anything he asked as unemotionally as he could, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" she said quickly. "No, I don't want you to leave. I was just…" she shook her head. "I don't know. It was your name. I wasn't sure I'd ever hear it again. I just … never imagined it happening this way. I never imagined finding you this way."

"Seems to me that I found you, Ma'am."

"I didn't know where to look," she shook her head.

"Did you want to look for me?"

She took a moment to think about her answer before saying, "I never wanted to let you go."

"Accordin' to that," he pointed at the certificate she still held, "you never wanted to give me your name either. And you didn't really answer my question."

She looked down again at the burnt and fading paper and when she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes that spilled down her cheeks. "This isn't the way it was supposed to happen. Tom was never supposed to come to Denver. He was never even supposed to know that I was pregnant. I was going to bring you home and…" her voice trailed off as she dabbed at her tears and took a shuddering breath. "It just didn't happen the way I planned it."

Her eyes seemed to be pleading for his belief and understanding but he wasn't quite ready to give her that much. Not right away at least.

"My Mama died a couple weeks ago," he told her, "and I promised to listen to her with an open heart and an open mind … when she told me she wasn't my mother. I never questioned that … not once in my life. Then I was asked to listen to her … with an open heart and an open mind as she told me it was a lie," he said almost bitterly. "I was told to give you that same courtesy … but as I see it, you ain't done nothin' to earn either one."

"Did she tell you how you came to be with her?"

He'd expected her to want to know and he'd already decided that he'd share the story with her to see how she'd react.

"Growin' up, she always said I was given to her by the only man she was ever in love with," he remembered almost fondly, a slight smile tugging at his lips but just as quickly disappearing. "But I didn't imagine she meant that he rode up one day and handed me to her in a basket."

"So your mother knew Tom before…?"

He nodded. "She said he owned a mine in Strawberry. He was there for several months … got hurt … she nursed him back to health … and … and then he stayed on once he was recovered. Durin' that time…" he wasn't sure how to say it delicately.

"I understand," she saved him from having to figure out how to phrase it.

"Anyway … he left one day, tellin' her he was married and had to go back to his family. And she thought she'd never see him again. But then he rode back in about seven months later and handed her a basket. Asked her to raise me as though I was her own."

He waited to see if she wanted to say anything and when she didn't, he continued.

"He told her that the baby was his wife's by another man," Heath said and Victoria lowered her eyes, embarrassed that her son would know of her infidelity. "He said he couldn't raise another man's son … and … and he said you … that you'd BOTH agreed … that it would be better if I was raised by someone else."

"I never did…" she sobbed, shaking her head.

"He sold his mine, hired some men to build Mama a cabin, gave her some money … and then he left. And that time she knew she'd never see him again. I grew up thinkin' she was my Mama. She worked hard from sunrise to sunset to provide for me and never let on that she was raisin' someone else's child," he said angrily. "She worked herself to death raisin' YOUR child!"

She gasped. "Tom said he'd see that you were provided for! He swore to me that you'd always be provided for!"

"Well, he may have meant it when he said it and then changed his mind … or he may just have underestimated my Uncle Matt. Mama said he sent money for a couple years and then it stopped. But she thinks Uncle Matt might have had a hand in that."

"He promised me…" she breathed out in a whisper.

He continued as though he hadn't heard her. "Mama told me all of it just before she died. She said that takin' me from him was the most selfish thing she'd ever done … because she couldn't believe that any woman would willin'ly give up their child. And she never tried to find out if you really had."

"Just like I never tried to find you," that, too, came out in a whisper. "I never thought of looking in Strawberry…"

"She loved me. No matter how hard we had to work to put food on the table, we loved each other. I couldn't have asked for a better mother," he felt the need to both reassure her - and hurt her - with his words. "We didn't have a lot … but we had love … and … and we had laughter. I look at that town now … through the eyes of someone who's a bit older … and I don't know how we could have found anythin' to laugh about. But we did."

"I'm sorry…" she shook her head, "I'm so sorry."

"I'm not askin' for anythin' from you. I didn't come here lookin' for someone to mother me. I was just curious … and I know that Mama wouldn't have told me about you if she hadn't wanted me to find you," he told her, struggling to control his voice. "So I'm askin' if you'll tell me how I ended up bein' raised by Leah Thomson instead'a here in your home. I'll try to listen with at least an open mind. And then … if you want me to leave … I will. I don't wanna cause any problems for you."

"No! No, I don't want you to leave! It's true that I haven't told anyone about you … well … except for two very good friends because I had to confide in someone … but I don't want you to leave. I'm willing to deal with whatever consequences there may be," she stated firmly. "Are you?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard anythin' yet that makes me wanna stay," he said honestly. "I was angry at Mama when she first said she wasn't my mother. But she told me everythin' I needed to know to get over that … well, mostly I'm over it. But I won't claim that I'm not still angry with you because you haven't told me enough to make me believe anythin' other than you regret it now that I'm sittin' here in front of you."

She quietly studied the handsome young man sitting across from her. He didn't say a word - just waited for her to speak. As far as he was concerned, it was her turn to do some talking. He'd told her what she wanted to know. He'd told her how he'd come to be raised in a tiny, dirty mining town. And now he wanted to hear her side of the story. He was starting to think that he should just get up and leave … and then she spoke to him.

"Would you … come sit next to me?" she asked.

It was a small enough thing for her to ask but still he hesitated before getting up slowly, rounding the small table, and sitting down on the settee. He let her take his hand and he'd have been lying if he said he didn't feel something when her tiny hand grasped his. Still he refused to say anything and deliberately avoided looking her in the eyes, waiting to see if she'd tell him what he wanted - no, what he NEEDED - to know.

"Tom was gone a lot in the early years of our marriage," she finally said. "We came across country together and settled here and I thought we were going to be a ranching family for generations to come. But Tom had other ideas. Grand ideas. He wanted to raise cattle … and horses … but he also wanted lumber … and a mill … mines. Any time we had a bit of money saved, Tom would find something to spend it on. He'd be gone for months at a time.

"When he made the trip to Strawberry, I expected him to be gone about a month. But he was gone so much longer. We had two boys and lived in the house that our foreman now lives in. Tom had been building this house before he left and hired some men to work on it while he was gone. I didn't care for them. It wasn't a problem when Silas was here … but he was gone for a few days to take care of a sick friend and I expressed my concern about the men to a friend. He promised to look in on us each night … and he did. And then one night…"

As she'd done for him, he saved her from having to provide the details. "I understand," he nodded.

"It was only that one time. We both agreed that it had been a mistake that we weren't going to repeat. And please don't think that I'm saying that I thought you were a mistake because that's not what I'm saying."

"But I was," he pointed out. "I was a mistake … and a complication."

Chapter 4

"Yes…" Victoria had to admit that what Heath said was true. "You were a complication. But that's not why you were raised by another woman," she protested. "By the time Tom came home, I knew I was pregnant and I knew that Tom would realize that in another month or so. I needed time to consider what I was going to do … how I was going to have a child who wasn't his … but keep the child to be raised as part of our family. In hindsight, I realize that I was so concerned about hiding my secret from Tom that I never even considered that his actions suggested he was as guilty as I of being unfaithful.

"I told Tom that I needed to get away for a time while he did whatever he needed to do to build his empire. And that once he was ready to settle down and quit traveling, we could do that together. It was really the first time I'd ever given him an ultimatum. Wives weren't supposed to do such things … but I left and took Nicholas with me. He was only three and I knew he wouldn't understand what was happening. Jarrod would have," she insisted, "so I told Tom he needed to stay here because he was in school.

"We went to Denver to visit a friend whose family had taken me in when my father was killed in a mine collapse. I told Elaine what had happened and that I knew the child I was carrying wasn't Tom's. Together we had it all worked out," she explained. "I'd stay there through the winter and spring, then after you were born, I'd write to Tom and tell him that I'd spent some time volunteering in an orphanage there and that I was coming home and bringing one of the babies with me. I was going to tell him that the baby's father had been killed in an accident before he was born and the mother had died in childbirth.

"Tom never would have suspected that you were really mine. He just wouldn't have believed it of me," she maintained. "But we hadn't told Elaine's husband of our plan. He had no idea that Tom wasn't your father. Elaine was going to tell him after I left so I wouldn't have to face him with the truth and he wouldn't inadvertently say something to make Tom suspicious if they were ever to meet."

When she paused, Heath asked, "So what went wrong?"

"Our plans didn't take into account an influenza epidemic," Victoria explained. "I became terribly ill. So ill that Elaine's husband, unbeknownst to her, sent a telegram to Tom telling him that he should come because I was deathly ill. He thought he was doing the right thing and, under normal circumstances, I'd have agreed that he did. But … well … the circumstances were hardly normal.

"Tom arrived about a week later and by then I'd pretty much recovered from my illness and you'd been born three days before. I was still terribly weak, though. I wasn't … capable … of fighting him," she said sadly, shaking her head. "He said … that he wouldn't raise another man's child. We argued about it for what seemed like days. I was adamant that I was taking you home with me and we could tell people that you'd been adopted. He said he wouldn't even consider it. That you'd always be a reminder to him that I'd been unfaithful. But I thought … I really thought I'd be able to convince him!

"He had this birth certificate recorded," she picked it up from the table and ran her fingertips over his name. "I chose Morgan as your middle name but Tom said it would just have to be accepted as your last name because he wasn't going to allow you the Barkley name. My name was listed as the mother, of course. Tom demanded to know who your father was but I refused to tell him. I hadn't told your father that I was pregnant and I never would have. If Tom had known who it was, he would have killed him. And later, if your father had known what Tom had done, he'd have killed Tom."

"So they were well acquainted?" Heath asked.

"Yes," Victoria nodded. "When they were both alive, they were good friends."

"I can see that that would have put you in a difficult position."

"But I'd have worked it out if I hadn't become ill," she asserted. "Tom would have believed me. I could have made it work! But once he got to Denver, he took over. He said that you weren't coming back to Stockton with us and even though I was sure that I could convince him in time … a few days later … I awoke to find you both gone," her voice almost faded away as she looked down at the birth certificate. "He'd left a note saying that he was taking you to be raised by someone else. A week or so after that, he came back and said you had a good home."

"He told Mama that you'd agreed that it was the best thing to do," Heath told her, "as long as he didn't leave me in an orphanage."

"I never agreed to anything of the sort!" she stated emphatically, looking up at him, her eyes blazing. "When Tom returned, I demanded that he get you back and … he threatened me … with the loss of my family … if I didn't return to Stockton with him and take my proper place as his wife. He said he'd divorce me and see that I lost my other two sons as well, if I didn't go home with him. The law was on his side. And even if I'd had a legal right to our sons, he had proof of my infidelity. So I had to … let you go.

"Tom … was an imperfect man. He wasn't an entirely bad man but … he was a very proud one. He wasn't going to accept another man's child … but he promised me that you'd be well cared for. He promised me that he would see that the family raising you was compensated for doing so. He made me believe that you were part of a family. So I agreed … he agreed … WE agreed … that we wouldn't talk of you anymore and we'd be the family HE wanted us to be. I had to agree or I'd have lost my other sons as well as you," she almost begged him to understand. "I had no reason to believe that you were being raised by a single mother in a mining town."

"She was a wonderful mother to me," Heath defended her. "And an amazin' woman."

"I'm sure she was. In just the short time that I've known you, I can see that she raised a fine young man," she agreed.

"I didn't always make it easy for her," he sort of shrugged.

"Sons rarely do," she smiled. Then after a moment she asked, "Would you … mind taking a walk with me in the garden? I think … I need a breath of air."

In answer, he stood up and offered her a hand, picking up his hat in the other. She waited until they were outside to link her arm in his, taking pleasure in being that close to her son for the first time. They sat on a bench in the garden and that's where she asked, "Will you stay?"

He thought about it for a moment before saying, "Accordin' to your husband's obituary, you have three sons and one daughter. You said when I was born you only had two sons."

"Jarrod and Nick," she nodded.

"And two more born after you came back from Denver…"

She nodded, knowing what he was trying to ask and considering how to explain it to him. "I'm not going to insult you by saying that I was unwilling," she shook her head. "But Audra was born almost six years after we returned from Denver. There's never been a day that's gone by that I haven't thought of you … but, as often happens, in time the pain of having you taken away from me diminished. What happened in Denver changed me greatly, though. Before that, I was the dutiful wife who allowed her husband to dictate their lives. After we returned home, I turned the anger I was feeling into strength. I knew I couldn't spend the rest of my life being angry. So I vowed that I was going to be in charge of my life … and my children's lives," she explained. "And one day … several years later … I realized that what I was doing was also depriving myself of something I'd always wanted. A large family.

"Audra was born about a year later. I've often thought that it was a good thing she was a girl. Her father doted on her. But it was clear, when Eugene was born a bit more than a year after Audra, that Tom wasn't ready for a little boy. Jarrod was about 15 when Eugene was born and I think he sensed that his father didn't have time for him. In some ways, he became a surrogate father to Eugene even before Tom was killed. I think that's why Eugene emulated Jarrod in being more interested in academics … and has never really seemed to have the interest in ranching that Nick has.

"What will they think of you suddenly havin' another son?"

"I won't lie and tell you that it'll be easy for them to understand. And maybe it won't be easy for them to accept you right away. But they're all good people and eventually they'll realize that it isn't your fault. And they WILL accept you."

"Where are they now? You seem to be alone in that big house."

"Jarrod is in San Francisco. He's an attorney. He's fair and he'll accept you because he'll know that it's what I'd want him to do. He'll give you a chance to be his brother," she sounded sure of that. "Audra is with my good friend Minnie Perlman. Minnie is the friend I confided in when we came home from Denver and I needed someone to talk to. She and Audra have traveled across country to visit Boston, Philadelphia, and New York. I wouldn't have trusted her on her own but her Aunt Minnie is her Godmother and I knew she'd take good care of her. They're due back in just a couple days. You share Audra's coloring. In fact, of all her brothers, you look the most like her. I don't doubt that she'll welcome you.

"Eugene is in school at Berkeley," she continued describing her children to their brother. "He'll probably have a hard time understanding how his 'Ma' could have a child who isn't his father's. But he's very much like Jarrod and he'll know that I'd want him to accept you. So he will," she stated. "And then, of course, there's Nick. He's run the ranch since his father died six years ago. He's down near Fresno looking at some horses. I think he'll have the most difficulty with your arrival. He won't want to hear that his mother was unfaithful to his father. But even more, he won't want to hear that the father he idolized could take an innocent child away from his mother."

"Maybe I should leave," Heath suggested. "You can tell them without the complication of them havin' to look me in the eyes. And if it works out the way you think…"

"You don't seem to be the type to run from a fight," she interrupted, fixing a determined gaze on him that made him suspect that he was seeing his mother's true nature for the first time. "Not that there will actually be a fight. My sons may tower over me … and even my daughter has to look down to look into my eyes … but they ALL respect my position as head of the Barkley family. If I tell them you're staying, it's not something that would be open for a vote."

"I don't know that I want my brothers and sister … well … HALF brothers and sister … to be forced into acceptin' me."

"You wear the clothes of a cowboy. One day I can see you and Nick running this ranch together," she stood up, making it clear that she was ignoring his objection. "You've only seen the house and the garden. Come see a little bit more of what awaits you," she held her hand out to him.

He finally put his hat on again as she took him around to the backyard. As they rounded the house, he took it all in. Horses in the corral. A large and well-built barn. A bunkhouse for the hands. Beyond that, a lush, green pasture. Hills in the distance. They walked over to the corral and leaned on the fence and as he studied the horses before him, he couldn't deny that he'd always judged a ranch by the quality of its horses … and based on that, the Barkley Ranch was the best he'd ever been on. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad place to settle down.

A couple men rode in and tipped their hats to Mrs. Barkley as they dismounted and took their horses into the barn. An older man rode up and she waved him over when he'd tied his horse to the corral fence.

"I think it's time we see how others feel about your parentage," she said so only Heath could hear her.

"Do you really think that's a good idea before you tell your sons and daughter?"

"Mac is our foreman. I think it's a perfectly good idea," she smiled as the man approached. "Good afternoon, Mac," she greeted the man, her smile growing. "I'd like you to meet someone. This is Heath … Morgan … Thomson."

The man's mouth seemed to drop open and Victoria Barkley nodded to him slightly before saying to her newfound son, "Heath … I'd like you to meet your father … Duke McColl."

* * *

Note: My story was originally intended to end here. I only set out to have two mothers tell Heath how he was the natural born son of one but was raised by the other. But when I got to the point where Victoria introduced him to his father, I actually heard Heath in my mind saying, "Wait … you're not gonna give ME … a boy who spent his whole life wishin' for a father … the chance to at least talk to him!" So I decided to give him an extra chapter to hear the story from his father's point of view.

* * *

Chapter 5 - Duke's Tale

"My father!" Heath turned angry eyes on his mother. "You said he was dead!"

"No!" she denied. "No, I never said that!"

"I find out that my whole life has been one long string of lies … and this is just one more! You said they were good friends before they both died!"

"No!" Victoria protested. "I said they were good friends when they were both alive," she gripped his arm. "I didn't mean to suggest that they were both dead now. I just meant that they weren't … BOTH … alive. I'm so sorry. I never intended for you to think your father was dead."

She could see the question in his eyes as he digested her words. As he seemed to stop breathing. As he calmed down. She nodded and said softly, "Mac is your father."

Tears came unbidden and splashed down his face before he quickly brushed them away. Mac was doing the same, Victoria noted, and she decided it was time to leave father and son alone for a time.

"I'll be in the house," she told them before turning and walking away.

They looked at each other silently for almost a minute before Mac spoke. "Never been a father before…"

Heath shrugged. "Never HAD a father before…"

"But I thought…"

Heath just shook his head, knowing what Mac must have thought if he'd been told the same as Mrs. Barkley.

"Let's take a walk," Mac suggested. "The rest of the hands'll be ridin' in soon. Don't need to give 'em a show."

He instinctively put an arm around Heath's shoulders to lead him away from the barn and around the corral and that simple action made Heath bow his head as tears once again stung his eyes.

"You know," he said past a lump in his throat, "I may not have had a father but I had a wonderful Mama. Couldn'ta asked for better. She died a couple of weeks ago."

"I'm sorry," Mac said quietly.

"I didn't come here lookin' for someone to replace her. I only wanted to meet Mrs. Barkley because Mama told me about her with her dyin' breath. I couldn't imagine she'd do that if she didn't want me to at least look her up," he suggested. "But I don't think either one of us thought I'd find my father. Don't even know what to call you."

Mac seemed to think about it for a moment before saying, "Mac is fine for now. I know it can't be easy to suddenly start callin' someone 'Pa' when you're old enough to be one yourself."

Heath sort of smiled his thanks. "Just not sure how it works suddenly findin' my father. I'd kinda given up on that ever happenin'."

"I hope you're not disappointed."

Heath let out a slight laugh. "If I'd met you a few weeks back, I'd at least have taken a swing at you. Maybe a few. I thought that Mama … was my real mother. And I thought my father had just left her there in that minin' town to raise me on her own. There were times in my life when I hated him so much that I wanted him dead. So, I guess, to find that I was wrong about all of it … about my Mama AND my father … well, I guess I couldn't be disappointed to meet you."

"I didn't know about you 'til about four years ago," Mac told him.

"How'd you find out?"

"Victoria came down with pneumonia. The doctor pretty much lived out here for a week or so tryin' to pull her through. The whole family was home and I don't think any of them left the house for more than a quick breath of air. I didn't see Nick but a few minutes each mornin' when we'd talk about what needed to be done that day. Once the crisis passed, it was still a while before she was up and about. And then she came out to see me one day and said that she had to tell me about somethin' that she couldn't take to her grave.

"'Course I wanted to know everythin' she could tell me about you … but the ONLY thing she could tell me was that the name on your birth certificate was Heath Morgan. That's why I knew right away that you were my son when she said your name," Mac explained. "But she had no idea where Tom had taken you. You said he left you in a minin' town?"

"Little place no one ever heard'a called Strawberry."

"Oh damn…" Mac breathed out. "If I'd only realized…"

"What?"

They were on the far side of the corral now and Mac sat down on a log; Heath did the same. Mac took off his hat and swiped his arm across his forehead before responding.

"Your mama … her name was Leah … right?"

Heath just nodded.

"I knew about Tom and your mama."

"How?"

"He told me when he came back from Strawberry," Mac stated simply. "We were good friends, Tom and me. He told me about your mama and asked if I thought he should tell Victoria. Of course, knowin' what had happened between ME and Victoria … and it WAS just one night," he assured him and waited to see Heath nod his belief, "I told him that as long as he promised himself that it would never happen again, I didn't think there was any reason to burden Victoria with his weakness. Victoria and I had realized our mistake and…" he abruptly stopped, his mouth open and an almost horrified look in his eyes.

"It's okay, Mac," Heath smiled. "I know you're not sayin' that I was a mistake. Just that you made a mistake."

"It shouldn'ta happened," Mac agreed. "But seein' you sittin' here next to me, I can't deny that I'm glad it did. Still, Victoria and I had decided that we weren't gonna tell Tom … so of course I told him that I didn't think he needed to tell her about your mama. Then it was only a week or two later that Victoria took Nick and left for Denver. I was almost relieved to see her go. I thought with that distance between us, it would be easier not to talk about what had happened.

"She was gone prob'ly half a year before Tom left to go after her. He said he got a telegram that she was sick and he wouldn't be back until he could bring her back with him. They finally came back together … and that's when things started to change for them. Tom focused on the ranch and left the mines and his lumberin' business to others. Victoria became more involved in the activities of the church and the orphanage and the school … she was always headin' into town for somethin'. She'd been a homebody before she'd left and I think it was because Tom wanted it that way. I can look back at the change now and say he was tryin' to make up to her for somethin'. But I had no reason to think anythin' like that at the time."

"No reason you should," Heath shrugged.

"Even when Victoria told me about you … I just never thought of Strawberry. She said he'd given you to a family … and that he said he'd sent money to them every year for your care. Now you say that you never had a father and it seems like it should'a been obvious."

"But you didn't know. Besides, what would you have done if you'd thought of Strawberry? When he died, I was eighteen years old."

"Didn't matter! I'da gone there and tried to find you," Mac stated. "I went to Denver when she told me. I went to see if someone might'a added a name to your birth certificate. Even looked up a family who still lived there and had a son born on the same day just to see if it might really be my son. Tossed me out on my ear … or I guess I could say my rear," he said sheepishly. "I saw the young man, though. Knew he wasn't my son."

"Can't imagine you lettin' yourself be tossed out on anythin'," Heath studied him with a slightly crooked grin.

"He caught me lookin' the other way," Mac laughed. But then the laugh died as he said, "I came back here and tried not to think about it. I was angry that Victoria hadn't told me about you sooner. If she'd told me when Tom was alive, I'da made him tell me where he'd taken you."

"She said she was afraid that one'a you would kill the other."

"S'pose I might'a," Mac conceded. "'Spect he would'a. I know that he didn't know it was my son he was givin' away … but he must'a suspected that you were the son of someone he knew. Can't imagine a man wantin' to do that to a friend," he shook his head. "Can't imagine Victoria wantin' to bring you back here sayin' you were adopted, neither. My own son would'a been right there in front'a me and I wouldn'ta known. But I can't really say what would'a happened then because Tom didn't allow that to come about. You and me might'a become good friends without knowin' we were father and son if Victoria had had her way."

"Seems strange to think of not knowin' Mama if she'd had her way. Wouldn'ta known what I missed … but since Mama was all I knew, I can't regret bein' raised by her."

"Wouldn't want you to. Since I couldn't stop it from happenin', I'm glad Tom gave you to someone who was good to you," Mac's voice choked up.

"Still…" Heath looked over at him, "…makes me wonder how Mama could love someone who'd take his wife's son and give him away."

"Makes me wonder what might'a happened to you if your Mama had refused," Mac countered. "I never would'a suspected he could do that. Didn't want to believe Victoria when she told me. The man I worked with for all those years could be ruthless when it came to business … but he didn't seem the type to be that cruel."

"Well … Mama … and Mrs. Barkley … saw somethin' in him to love," Heath shrugged. After a moment of silence between them he said, "I do wonder what it would'a been like havin' brothers and a sister, though."

"Well, I can tell you true that you and Nick prob'ly would'a butt heads a time or two," Mac laughed.

"Why do you think that?" Heath smiled over at him.

"Because Nick and I have butt heads a time or two. You'd be his brother … and my son … you'da been brothers and prob'ly best friends … and always at odds about somethin'."

"You're close to Nick?"

Mac nodded. "More so since Tom was killed. Nick was younger than you are now when he took over runnin' the ranch. I've been foreman since b'fore he was born."

"What's he gonna think … what are any of them gonna think … about his mother suddenly havin' another son … and you happenin' to be the father?"

"That ain't a situation I ever considered. I guess I never expected you'd show up here," Mac confessed.

"Mac, you gotta admit that this is a complication that neither one of you expected," Heath pointed out. "I didn't come here to hurt anyone."

Again Mac nodded, slower this time as he considered Heath's words. "I ain't that worried about me," he finally said. "But Victoria…"

"She's thinkin' with her heart, Mac," Heath finished his father's thought. "She said there's never been a day that she hasn't thought about me. But it ain't really me she's been thinkin' about. It's that baby … and what she thought he'd become."

"Doesn't mean her love for you isn't real."

"I ain't questionin' that. But that still doesn't change that she has to figure out how to tell her children…"

"Your brothers and sister," Mac reminded him.

"My brothers and sister," Heath agreed. "It doesn't change that she has to figure out how to tell them that she had another child … whose father is the foreman … and he was given away by their father. Mac, that ain't somethin' you just drop on a family over dinner one night."

"So … what are you suggestin'?"

"I don't think I can stay, Mac," Heath's eyes were glassy. "Even if Mrs. Barkley told them she had another son … I can't be HER son … without bein' YOUR son. And if I suddenly show up here bein' your son … she wouldn't let me be your son without bein' her son. You said it yourself … you never expected me to show up here. Neither one of you thought you'd hafta explain me to anyone."

Mac's eyes matched Heath's as he nodded. "I've got a little money set aside. Not much … but we might be able to buy a little place somewhere. I hear you can get a good-sized piece of land down near Los Angeles for a fair price."

"You'd leave here with me?"

"In a heartbeat," Mac told him.

Heath sat silently for a moment as he thought about it. Then he shook his head. "Mac, if you leave here, there's no reason for me to come back."

"There's your mother."

"I had a Mama … I didn't come lookin' for someone to take her place."

"Then there's your brothers and sister."

"If I leave, it'll give y'all time to figure out if you wanna tell 'em about me," Heath suggested. "You've got a good thing here, Mac. I don't wanna come between you and the Barkleys."

"You're my son! I got tossed out of a house in Denver lookin' for you," Mac reminded him with a slight laugh. "I'm not about to just let you leave…"

"Mac, I've gotta leave," Heath interrupted him.

They looked at each other silently for more than a minute before Mac pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. "Yeah, Son, I guess you do," he agreed, his voice husky. "But we'll figure out how to tell 'em. And if it doesn't work out…"

"There's always that land down near Los Angeles," Heath nodded. He stood up. "I think I'd better go. The longer I stay … the harder it'll be to explain who I am."

"But…" Mac, too, stood up, "…you will be back. Right?"

"Yeah, I'll be back," Heath agreed as they started walking towards the front of the house. "It's not every day a boy finds his Pa. And I may not be a boy any more … but findin' my Pa is a dream I never thought would come true. I ain't about to give you up."

"You'll let me know where you are?"

"Yeah," Heath breathed out.

"Do you need money?"

Heath laughed. "Mac, there's never been a time in my life when I didn't need money. But I've always gotten by."

Mac grabbed his arm to stop him, reaching into his pocket at the same time. "Here," he put something in Heath's hand. "I want you to have this."

"Your watch?"

"It was my father's … and my grandfather's before him," he explained. "I always wanted to have a son to give it to."

"Mac, I'm comin' back. You don't hafta give me your watch to make me come back."

"I know," Mac nodded. "Just want you to have it."

Heath studied the watch as they walked and only put it in his pocket when they were standing next to his horse.

"Are you gonna say 'good-bye' to Victoria?" Mac asked him.

"She'll only try to convince me to stay. She's not gonna understand that this is for the best…" Heath shook his head, "…that y'all need time to figure things out."

"Can't say I'm gonna enjoy tellin' her that."

"No … and I guess you shouldn't hafta," Heath conceded.

"We can just think of it as somethin' … somethin' a father might do for his son," Mac seemed to stumble over the words. Then he almost impulsively pulled Heath into a hug as he choked out, "Let me know where you are, Son. We'll figure this out so you can come back."

"I know you will, Pa," Heath could only whisper as he returned the hug.

Mac watched silently as Heath checked his cinch and saddlebags and then swung up into the saddle. Heath reached down and Mac grasped the offered hand.

"It's not every day a boy finds his Pa," Heath repeated his earlier sentiment. "Guess I'd hafta say that makes today the best day of my life. I ain't about to give you up no matter what happens between Mrs. Barkley and her children."

Despite having found his son and having him ride out all within an hours' time … despite the tears in his eyes that he'd seen reflected in his son's … Heath's words had Mac smiling as he watched his newfound son ride out under the wrought iron gate. He was just turning away when the front door opened and Victoria stepped out onto the porch.

"Mac! Where is he? You didn't let him leave, did you!"

"He'll be back," Mac assured her, "just as soon as we figure out how to tell your family that you … and I … have a son."

"I'm just going to tell them as soon as I can get them all together in the same room," Victoria stated firmly. "Heath is my son and…"

"He's also MY son, Victoria. And their father gave him away," Mac reminded her. "Do you REALLY think tellin' them … and havin' ALL of them accept it … is gonna be THAT easy?"

THE END