Eavesdropping
Interlude
10
by Lindabrit
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.
WARNING: Please be advised that this post contains
ribald or risqué comments on the sexual prowess of the Barkley brothers. There
is no actual dirt, but I am warning you in case you prefer not to read this
style of thing.
Part 1
The Stagecoach lurched round a sharp bend in the rough
track, for you really couldn't dignify this pot-holed, rock-strewn furrow with
the term road, thought Victoria Barkley, as she clung to the hanging strap for
dear life. She had barely straightened herself again as the road leveled out
when the front wheel hit the biggest pot-hole yet and she was flung bodily from
her seat to the floor of the coach.
Sighing with frustration, Victoria picked herself up and sank back onto the
hard wooden seat. This was without doubt the most arduous journey she had ever
undertaken. She had visited her sister Grace in Denver and had traveled there
by train, in civilized comfort. The journey home was intended to be just as
simple but fate had conspired to make it anything but that!
A whole series of natural disasters, accidents and mishaps had made it
necessary for her to travel home by various forms of transport and by a
circuitous route.
She ought to have stayed on in Denver but in typically stubborn fashion she had
refused to do so. Eugene was due home from college in less than a week and his
twenty-first birthday was imminent. It was going to take more than a flash
flood, a lightning strike, the sudden bankruptcy of the biggest of the
stagecoach companies and the closure of a major road, due to bandit activity to
prevent the Barkley matriarch from reaching the ranch in time to welcome her
youngest son and throw him a splendid birthday party!
Now, several days into an increasingly difficult, trip, one that was seemingly
never going to end, Victoria had had ample time to regret her impulsiveness.
The closure of the road had been the final straw, preventing her from
travelling directly to Stockton and threatening to prolong still further an
already nightmarish journey. In true Barkley fashion, Victoria had dismissed
the more conventional options for getting home and had hired a buggy and driven
herself to a small town north of the extreme edge of the Barkley property line.
From there she had caught this miserable excuse for a stage coach and it was to
deposit her at Saltash Fork, described by the ticket seller at her last stop as
a way station.
Victoria was learning to distrust descriptions on this trip, but if Saltash
Fork was a way station, there would be horses and buggies for hire and she
could head home across her own land. It might mean a night out on the trail but
it was worth it. The weary woman thought longingly of her own home, warm and
welcoming, a hot bath and crisp bed linen.
The coach pulled up with a jerk and Victoria stepped down into a biting
crosswind. She pulled her jacket closed and shielded her eyes from the
billowing dust as she took in her surroundings. The ‘way station' consisted of
one humble wooden cabin with an attached outbuilding and a rickety corral,
which appeared to be devoid of horses.
The cabin door opened as the driver of the stage deposited the last of her
three bags on the dilapidated verandah. The man who came out was middle-aged
and balding, a touch on the portly side and obviously astonished to find he had
a guest. He bowed politely to Victoria and addressed himself to the stagecoach
driver,
"Sal?"
"Hey Jim, just got one bag of mail for the Porter spread and this lady is
getting off here too."
Their business, such as it was, done, the driver clambered aboard his rickety
coach and was gone in a renewed swirl of dust. In a few seconds it was as
though he had never been there.
The man called Jim smiled bemusedly at Victoria, "Ma'am, can I help you at
all?"
"Yes please, I need shelter, food and rest first, then I want to hire a
horse and buggy from you."
Jim ran a distracted hand through his thinning hair, "sorry Ma'am, I ain't
got a serviceable buggy in the barn, this is kind of a rundown place as you can
see. I'm leaving myself soon, don't get nothing but passing trade from
ranchhands and saloon gals these days. It ain't a fit place for a lady the
likes of you, I mean it's just a drinking den really, I can't let you sit in
there, you might come to some harm!"
Victoria eyed him calmly, "are you going to make me stay out on this windy
verandah then?"
"Good grief no! Come along in at once Ma'am, I can do better than
that!"
Victoria followed her host indoors and could see that it was much as he had
said, a sawdust floor, a small bar and two or three rough looking men sipping
beer in the corner. Jim led his lady-guest to a door in the far wall of the
room and opening it, ushered her quickly inside. He shut the door against the
stares of his other patrons and asked anxiously,
"This here's my own parlour Ma'am, if you'd condescend to sit in
here?"
Victoria glanced around, the room was swept clean and neat as a pin, there was
a small table, and two chairs and beside a warm stove, there was a more
comfortable chair. She smiled gratefully,
"This is very kind of you Mr?"
"Willaston Ma'am, Jim Willaston, at your service."
"I'm Victoria Barkley Mr Willaston and thank you I'm obliged to you, I'll
sit in here with pleasure."
She glanced over at a pot bubbling on the stove in the corner, "would that
be beef stew by any chance?"
"It would, can I get you a bowl of it and some bread?"
"Yes please, I'm starved."
The stew was delicious and the bread freshly baked, Victoria ate heartily and
finished her repast with a cup of steaming hot coffee. When he had seen to her
wants, Willaston went back to the bar and his trickle of customers who came and
went in a thin but steady stream through the next couple of hours. He took one
look in at his visitor, but as he had expected Mrs Barkley was dozing
peacefully beside the fire. She had looked very tired and Jim was glad to think
that she would be oblivious to the talk in the bar, which was hardly what a
lady like her was used to.
Fortunately for Jim Willaston's peace of mind, he didn't know that Victoria
woke from her nap just minutes after he tiptoed away, leaving the door slightly
ajar. Victoria Barkley was about to spend a fascinating early afternoon
eavesdropping. In the course of which she was destined to hear some snippets
concerning her three elder sons. Snippets that would give the Barkley matriarch
some fresh insights into the characters of Jarrod, Nick and Heath Barkley.
The door of the cabin opened and four noisy laughing saloon
girls tumbled in, shivering from the biting wind outside and shaking the dust
from their gaudy outfits.
"Keep the noise down gals! I have a guest in the other room, I don't want
you to wake her," ordered Willaston.
A tall, attractive blonde girl spoke to the others, "sit down right over
there, by the stove and get warm, I'll buy us all a little medicine."
She strolled over to the tiny bar, "how are you Jim?"
"Pretty fair, yourself Trixie?"
The blonde grimaced, "work's kinda scarce in Low Pines, we got an invite
to the Thurstaston spread for a party, should be some cash in that. Then we're
heading for Stockton again, never should have left I reckon."
Willaston was pouring out four whiskies, "I know what you mean, I rue the
day I bought this loss maker I can tell you!"
Trixie touched his arm, "and yet the folks out this way need you Jim, this
is the only stop this part of the valley, if you weren't here, what would folks
do? They need you."
Willaston frowned, "needing don't pay bills Trix. Here Honey, take the
bottle over, I got to see to my horse in the barn."
Trixie carried the tray over to the table and the other three girls made a
space by the stove for her. She stretched her feet gratefully towards its
warmth and raised her glass to the others,
"here's to a good party at the Thurstaston place and then Stockton here we
come!"
The youngest of the four, a dark eyed girl called Effie, spoke up, "are
you sure about going back to Stockton? Will we all find work you think?"
Trixie smiled, "yeah I know a few people and there are some rich pickings
in Stockton too!"
The other two girls, a pair of handsome brunettes were sisters, Rita and Fanny.
Fanny asked an anxious question, "yeah but Stockton? Rita was threatened
by that fella, said he'd haul her ass into jail if we showed our faces
again."
"Next time don't steal his watch," advised Trixie eliciting a ripple
of laughter from the rest.
Rita's face clouded, "he did threaten to hurt me though, said he'd slash
my face!"
Effie sipped her whisky, "you could ask Jarrod Barkley about it."
In the quiet parlour, Victoria sat up straight as the name of her eldest son
entered the conversation. She had been listening with amusement to the chatter
of the girls, she could hardly help but eavesdrop after all. Now it seemed she
was going to hear something about her own family. She listened carefully to the
continuing discussion in the bar.
"Jarrod Barkley? Do you mean that fancy lawyer in the blue suit? Now what
would a guy like him know about girls like us?"
Rita's question made Effie and Trixie laugh,
"Not much he don't know about us gals," giggled Effie.
"Reckon he could write a book at that," agreed Trix.
Effie wanted to be fair, " of course, he don't do much dallying these
days, he's got a wife now, but he used to be a very generous man, yessiree,
mighty generous!"
Trixie nodded, "made you earn your corn though! What I'd call a demanding
lover, real passionate like."
Effie concurred, " yeah, pretty dominant with it, exciting though, and
those eyes! Blue as the ocean those eyes!"
Fanny recalled the prominent lawyer's handsome face, "I remember him, real
good-looking, I liked that other one though, the one with the voice as deep as
the sea!"
Rita nodded, you mean Nick Barkley? Fights like six men and a grin that leaves
you weak at the knees? I remember him! Now there's a lover and a half!"
Trixie smiled, "you didn't steal his watch then?"
"Didn't have no need to," retorted Rita, "he's not mean with his
gold, tips very generously does Nick!"
Fanny chimed in again, "and fun with it, that man likes to enjoy himself!
Nice part about it being, he thinks you should enjoy yourself too!"
"I'll say," agreed Trixie with relish.
Victoria was almost betrayed into laughter herself, the revelations about her
sons had not dismayed her, she accepted that men had needs and didn't expect
them to be saints. However the next words from the bar, effectively wiped the
smile from her face.
"Isn't there another Barkley boy?"
It was Fanny who had asked the question and it was Trixie, the acknowledged
leader of the group who answered her.
"Yeah, that would be Heath Barkley." She leaned forward slightly
saying in a serious voice, "let's be honest girls...Heath Barkley is a
little different."
In the parlour, Victoria's hands were curling into claws, merciful heaven, did
it extend to the lowest of saloon girls? Was Heath to be forever slighted
because of his illegitimacy?
Trixie's voice was husky with pleasure, "I mean be honest here, we should
be paying him not the other way around!"
"I'll say," agreed Effie with a sigh.
Rita stared, "he can't be that special!"
Trixie's eyes were reminiscent, "oh he is though, that boy is as golden as
the sunshine, I ain't never had the like of him before, don't expect I ever
will again neither!"
Effie smirked, "first time I ever seen him without his duds, I near
fainted away, I mean he's hung like..."
She broke off as Willaston re-entered, slamming the door behind him.
In the parlour, her eyes alight with laughter, Victoria didn't know whether to
be glad or sorry that the discussion of Heath's charms had come to such an
abrupt end. As she listened, she heard Jarrod mentioned again.
Rita said, "so how do you think Counselor Barkley could help me?"
Trixie refilled the glasses, "well he's a real gentleman and he won't
cotton to that fella threatening you with a slashing like that. If you talk to
him, he'll likely straighten him out for you."
Rita was surprised, "for a gal like me?"
Trixie nodded, "it's this way, Jarrod Barkley thinks the law should serve
everyone not just the rich, you talk to him, he'll help you, I guarantee
it."
Victoria smiled into the flames of the fire, not the type of talk a mother
usually heard about her sons perhaps, but interesting, very very interesting!
Before the quartet of girls left to resume their journey to
the Thurstaston ranch, two men entered the bar and stood drinking beer and
talking to Jim Willaston. When the girls had gone, the two farmers crossed to
the stove and sat close to its comforting heat.
The older of the two, Sam Parkgate asked his companion, "so the dam is
wrecking your top crop field then?"
The younger farmer Paul Raby grimaced, "I've talked to the State Engineer
until I'm blue in the face, they don't give the time of day to the likes of me.
Meantime I stand to lose my whole crop!"
Parkgate sipped his beer reflectively, "you could ask Jarrod Barkley about
it," he suggested.
Raby blinked at him, "you're joshing me, this dam was Barkley's idea in
the first place!"
Parkgate nodded and said calmly, "I know that, but I've known the Barkleys
a lot longer than you and Jarrod isn't the sort of man to let that stop him if
he thought there was an injustice going on."
Raby mulled his friend's words over for a minute or two, "you really think
it would it would be any use?"
"Trust me," said Sam, "Jarrod's a decent man, same as his Daddy
was before him, if you tell him what's gone on here, he'll kick the State
Engineer from one end of that dam to the other!"
Raby respected his friend, "all right Sam, I'll do as you say, I guess I
thought with those Barkleys being rich and all they wouldn't be bothered with
dirt poor farmers, I mean ranchers wouldn't right?"
"Wrong," said Parkgate with a smile. "Those particular ranchers
don't act that way. It's bred in them, Tom Barkley would never see a good man
go under if he could help and his boys take after him. They just have different
ways of doing it is all."
"What do you mean Sam?"
"Well, Jarrod will always give you his advice and legal help and he's a
generous man if you can't meet the bills. Now Nick, he's pretty free-handed
too, if your barn burned down, he'd send you a couple of wagons loaded with
lumber and a couple more with equipment and likely a few of his men if you
needed them."
Raby was frank, "you surprise me, I'd have said Nick was a tough man, not
the sort to look out for anyone else."
"Oh he's tough all right, but he takes after Tom Barkley, Tom never
confused toughness with ruthlessness and Nick don't either. He'll fight for
what's his, but he'll give his last drop of blood to help a friend."
Raby was curious, "and the other one, the half-breed, Heath is it? He's
different I'd guess. He wasn't brought up by his daddy was he?"
In the parlour, Victoria stiffened anew, listening intently once more.
Sam Parkgate smiled, "old Heath's kind of different, that's exactly
right."
Raby nodded, "that's what I thought."
Sam's smile broadened, "you don't know anything Son, when I say Heath's
different, I don't mean he's any the less willing to lend a friend a hand than
any other of his family, just he has his own special way of going about
it."
"I guess I don't follow you Sam?"
Parkgate tried to explain.
"It's like this, take that burned barn situation, Nick would send the
wagons like I told you, but Heath wouldn't be on one of them and the reason he
wouldn't is that he'd have ridden in to your place before sun up. By the time
you were awake, he'd be hard at work on your barn, with his shirt off and a
hammer in his hand."
Paul Raby smiled, "he must be a fine young man."
Sam Parkgate's voice was quietly sincere, "he's the sort of boy I'd have
liked for a son, there's a gentleness about him, he's a brave young man but at
heart he's about the kindest young fella you could wish to meet."
"Sam, would you come with me and help me tell Jarrod Barkley about the
dam?"
"Be a pleasure Paul."
In the parlour, Victoria Barkley wiped a tear from her eyes, what was it they
said, eavesdroppers never hear any good about themselves? Well she certainly
had no complaints about what she had overheard about her sons.
Victoria glanced at the watch pinned to her blouse, it was a little after
three, she had left it late to set off alone across Barkley land, Mr Willaston
seemed a decent man, perhaps he would consider offering her shelter overnight
and she could start in the morning, she would ask him when he reappeared. She
didn't like to go into the bar, he clearly didn't want her to do so and she
respected him for that.
Victoria considered calling to Willaston but as she peeped around the door into
the bar, the outside door opened and three cowboys entered. The Barkley
matriarch's eyes brightened, she recognized all three men, one was a newly
hired Barkley hand, she thought his name was Chet. The other two men were
long-time Barkley hand Will Reynolds and the third was the comfortingly
familiar figure of Dave McCall who had been foreman at the Barkley ranch since
Tom Barkley's day.
Victoria was opening her mouth to call to Mac when she heard what Will was
saying to Chet as they seated themselves.
"Tell you what Chet, you could ask Jarrod Barkley about it."
Victoria backed into the parlour once more and sat back down. This was the
third time she had overheard that self-same phrase this afternoon. In the back
of her mind, she was uneasily aware that she wasn't being fair to her employees
by eavesdropping like this, but with wry self-knowledge she knew she was going
to listen in and find out why Chet needed Counselor Barkley's help.
McCall took a bottle from behind the bar, Jim had called to him from the barn
and told him to do so. He came and sat with his men and Will said,
"Ain't I right Mac, Chet should ask Mr Jarrod about his kid?"
The foreman nodded, "yep, the Counselor's the man for the job I'd say."
The youngest man of the three frowned in puzzlement, "I know I'm new guys,
but isn't the lawyer, kind of in charge of it all?"
Will poured whiskies for them all,
"well yeah, I reckon he's the man with his hands on the reins overall,
although I wouldn't tell Mr Nick that, not if'n I was within reach that
is!"
McCall laughed, "Nick's the ranch boss all right, if you want to keep a
whole skin, you'd do well to remember that Chet."
Chet was still confused, "I thought Mr Heath was the boss too, aren't they
partners?"
Mac smiled into his glass, "yeah that's right, but Old Nick was giving the
orders for a good few years before his brother showed up and he's got the habit
of it."
"And Mr Heath, he lets him?"
"Mostly he does, he only stands up to Nick when he thinks it's necessary.
But if he does, he don't back up none either, then the sparks fly right
enough."
Will drained his glass and handed it to Mac for a refill, "remember when
old Heath showed up Mac? I thought for sure those two boys were going to kill
each other!"
"Did they fight?" asked Chet eagerly.
"Some," admitted Mac, "but mostly they tried to outdo each
other, I don't reckon I've seen two men work harder, bust more broncs or dig
more fence posts, it was getting crazy."
"What happened," Chet wanted to know.
"Well fortunately, they got to know and like each other before they
managed to kill each other," murmured Mac drily.
Chet remarked, "Nick sure can be bossy, but I've noticed how the hands
look up to him, they act like they'd go through fire for him."
"We would," said Will, " he was no more than a boy when he had
to step into his father's shoes and he did it! Ain't a man on the ranch
wouldn't give his all for Nick."
McCall concurred, "it's true, the men do respect Nick but they respect
Heath too, he's a quiet one, but you have to respect a guy that can outride
you, outwork you, outfight you too, if you force him to do it."
Chet drank his whisky thoughtfully, "I sure do miss my little gal, but the
lawyer I paid in San Jose, he said I had no rights to her, account me and her
Mama weren't married. I worry about the kid, she don't like it in the orphanage
and I'd give a lot to have her here."
Mac punched the younger man's shoulder, "I'll speak to Mr Jarrod, he'll
look into it for you and he'll tell you straight what your options are."
Chet was doubtful, "won't he mind you asking? I mean he's an important man
and all and I get the feeling he expects a lot of his men."
Mac shook his head, "he won't mind, if he can help you, he'll do it, you're
right Son, he does have high standards, for himself as well as his men."
Victoria felt she had heard enough, it was very unfair to the men to eavesdrop
this way and besides she needed them to know of her present predicament. She
stood up, shaking out her crushed skirts and entered the bar. Mac came to his
feet the instant he spotted her,
"Mrs Barkley Ma'am! How ever did you come to be here?"
She advanced into the room, smiling, "oh it's a long story Mac, I'll tell
you all about it on the way home, I take it you are headed back to the
ranch?"
"Indeed we are Ma'am, got a wagonload of lumber and some horses outside.
We've been pushing pretty hard, that's why we took this little stop..."
Victoria put a hand on his arm, "no need to explain Mac, I'm delighted to
see you all. Can you have my bags put in the wagon please?"
"Sure thing Mrs Barkley," said Mac, signaling to Will to take care of
it and frantically trying to recall what they had been saying that his mistress
might have overheard.
Victoria read his mind and flashed him a reassuring smile,
"no-one said anything to which I could take any exception Mac, indeed I've
learned some fascinating things about my sons today!"
She smiled at Chet, "on the way home I want you to tell me all about your
daughter. Mac needn't mention the matter to Jarrod, I'll do so myself and I
promise you that the Barkley family will help you to get your child back!"
Chet coloured up to the roots of his hair, "I surely do appreciate it
Ma'am!"
Thirty minutes later, Victoria stood on the windy verandah, her hand lost in
both of Jim Willaston's.
"Have a safe and speedy journey home Ma'am," said the burly man
courteously.
Victoria smiled at him, "Mr Willaston, you said earlier that you were
leaving here soon, I'd be grateful if you'd consider staying on for a while, at
least until I get in touch with you again. Will you do that?"
The man was puzzled, "I guess I can if you want me too ma'am, may I ask
why?"
"I overheard that you provide a much needed service in this remote area
and I think my family would be willing to finance your operation here and help
you improve it."
Jim's amazement gave way to apprehension, "I kind of hoped you were
sleeping in the parlour Mrs Barkley, you may have heard things..."
Victoria's smile was radiant with mischief, "it's quite all right Jim,
I've had a very...educational afternoon," she assured him.
Jim Willaston's face was glowing with hope, "do...do you really think you
can help me keep going here," he asked humbly.
Victoria smiled, "oh I think so, you see, I'm going to ask Jarrod Barkley
about it."