A Letter Home

by MagdalenMary495

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

University of California
November 12, 1898

Dear Daddy,

It’s probably a little late to ask you not to be angry over the latest letter from Dean Williams. You’ve already received it I’m sure and read it while you stomped up and down in the parlor shouting at Mama about ‘how could she jeopardize her aspirations in law for a cow.” But it isn’t really as awful as the Dean made it sound. Could you please just let me explain?

You see, Daddy it wasn’t just any cow. Mr. Cooper, the man who supplies all the dairy products to the college had a sick cow. He doesn’t have a big herd, not even half as big as Uncle Heath’s son, Thompson. They’re the prettiest little Jersey’s you’ve ever seen though and to Mr. Cooper they’re his whole lively hood.

When he came by the college that day to make a delivery, half sick with worry over one of the cows and the income he’d lose is she died, well...what would you have done, Daddy? All I could think about was helping him somehow. Exams just didn’t seem important when I compared them to a man losing his cow. Her name is Angela. Isn’t that a silly name for a cow?


Well, anyway...Mr. Cooper started to talk about Angela and before I knew it, I’d offered to ride out to his farm and just take a look. I thought surely I’d be back to school in time to take the exams, but you know how it is with a sick animal. You can’t just make them well and leave on schedule. When I saw Angela, I knew exactly what was wrong with her. I remembered Uncle Heath and Thompson working to save Grandma’s cantankerous old, Buttercup so I knew exactly what to do. Mr. Cooper and I saved Angela’s life. Don’t you think that’s important, Daddy? More important than the exams?

I knew how disappointed you’d be in me and I’m sorry. When I received the letter from you last week I felt even worse. You wrote it before Dean Williams letter had time to reach you and you kept telling me how proud you were of me, how I should buckle down this new term and do my best to make my dreams come true. With the first day of the new term starting soon (tomorrow, in fact), I can’t help thinking of what you said.

I want you to be proud of me, Daddy. Truly. It’s one reason I chose to come to law school. I knew how much you always dreamed of having Barkley and Barkley written in gold leaf on your office window, of having one of your children follow in your footsteps. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Ever. Or make you think I’ve failed or haven’t seen it through like a true Barkley would.

Daddy, you wrote I should be grateful for living in times when women are allowed to enter law school. That I should be glad I’ve got the ambition to reach for my dream. You told me I should keep sight of where I want my life to take me and chart a straight course in that direction. I’ve been thinking about that quite a bit since your letter came. Each time I think about your letter, all your hopes and dreams for my future, a little voice inside keeps whispering for me to tell you the truth.


Remember the locket you and Mama gave me when I turned sixteen? You had it engraved, “To Thine Own Self Be True,’ because we both loved Shakespeare so much. I wear that locket every day and I keep reading that inscription for courage to tell you what needs to be said. I don’t want to stay here. If I’ve just broken your heart, Daddy, I’m so very, very sorry. I love you so much. I don’t ever want to hurt you or cause you even the slightest pain...but I can’t do this. As much as I love you, I can’t follow your dream instead of mine.

The only reason I love the law is you, Daddy. All those times I went to watch you in court or went to keep you company in your office; helping you sort out your files for a case or digging through all those dusty old books for precedents it was because I wanted to be with you. I almost talked myself into thinking if I became a lawyer it would be like that all the time. But the more I thought about it like you told me too, the more I realized a very important truth. It isn’t so much the law I love, it’s watching how passionately you love it.

I love being with you in the courtroom, watching you pace in front of the jury with your hands in your vest pocket. Or the way your smile quirks up on one side and you raise your left eyebrow when you’ve caught a witness in a lie. I love the way your mind pulls out one question after another in the most logical order as you reel in a witness like a fish on a line. Don’t try to deny it, Daddy. Ask Mama. She’s seen you do it too. I love how you use the law to help people and how often you’re willing to bend the rules to make sure the law serves the people instead of the other way around. And don’t deny it...you’ve often told us you’re no saint.

I imagine the first reason I began to spend so much time with you was because I was spoiled enough not to want to share you with anyone else in the family. Once you and Mama added all those brothers and sisters into the family , it was hard to get you alone. I love all six of them dearly, Daddy, but dirty darn...it sure was hard to learn to share. Did you ever know how jealous I was once I was too big to sit in your lap and dig through your pocket for lemon drops like the little ones? I wanted you all to myself again. Then you started letting me come to your office to help you. You’d read out loud from those law books, your eyes shining as you explained some subtle point of the law to me. It all sounded so fine and good and noble that I began to think maybe I could love it as you did. I can’t. I love your passion for the law, Daddy, but I can’t follow in your footsteps. If I do, I’m not being true to me.

I tried, Daddy. I truly did. Will you understand?

Remember when you told me Grandpa always wanted you to become a rancher? How he wanted you to follow in his footsteps? I’m sorry to disappoint you. Will you forgive me if I do the same thing to you. .I don’t want to be a lawyer. There. I said it. The sky didn’t fall, although I’m sure your heart is breaking just a tad.

I guess you know what’s coming next. My heart’s with the ranch Daddy. It always has been ever since I was a little girl. Remember when Uncle Nick would put me up on Coco and take me riding over the ranch.. We’d ride and ride and ride and he’d say , “This is Barkley land, girl, let it fill your heart and your mind.” Well, Daddy, it did. The land saturates my thoughts and my spirit. It fills me with the desire to own it, work it, to be part of it and see it grow.

I’ve learned something from being here although not to love the law. When I’m away from the ranch I’m impatient to get back to it. When I’m away too long I feel like a leaf, curling up to die. I can’t wait to come home and be a part of it all again. Uncle Heath would say the Barkley land is in my blood. Maybe he’s right. Helping Mr. Cooper’s silly old cow, Angela, gave me more satisfaction than I could ever find giving a closing argument to a jury. I know now if I’m ever to be true to myself, I have to come home.

Oh, I know you’re shouting at Mama by now, telling her what the Dean said about my “brilliance,” my wit and wisdom and how I could be a fine lawyer if I only tried. Would you think me a failure if I don’t try Daddy. If I don’t see it through? .I’m not happy here. I’ve tried, truly I have. I know how much you want this for me. Would it be alright if I do what’s right for me instead?

You’ve got a couple of fine sons now. Sometimes, I catch a little glimpse of the lawyer in them. Even some of Uncle Nick’s sons are more suited to be here than I am. Maybe one day your dream will come true and you can have “Barkley & Barkley” after all.

Tomorrow is the first day of the term Daddy. I’m already packed and I’m leaving. I hope...could you please find it in your heart to forgive me? I’m sorry I can’t be the daughter you wanted me to be. Could you please meet my train and tell me you love me anyway?

Your loving daughter,

Jenny



Jarrod handed the letter to his perplexed wife. She’d watched him read the letter, alarmed by the sadness on his face. Reading it quickly, her heart ached for both father and daughter. Jenny had expressed doubts about going to law school in many of her letters home. Offering what motherly advice she could give to her stepdaughter, she’d urged her to speak the truth to her father. She was glad Jenny had found the courage.

“What are you going to do?”

Jarrod gave her a wry smile. “What is there to do? I’m going to meet her train and tell her I understand.”

“You knew, didn’t you?” She could tell by the way he calmly sat beside her, reaching to take her hand, “You knew all along she wouldn’t stay.”

“I hoped. She’d make a fine lawyer.” Jarrod sighed, not as hurt at giving up his dreams for Jenny as he thought he’d be. “But, I know her heart’s with the ranch. Heath’s right, the land is in her blood. She’s never going to be happy anywhere else, doing anything else. I’ll ride over there in the morning and tell Nick and Heath to expect her in about a week.”

At his wife’s questioning look, he explained, “If she’s going to be a rancher, she couldn’t have two finer teachers. As soon as Miss Jennifer Victoria Barkley gets home, she’s going back to school. The Nicholas Barkley school for Working Ranchers.”

 

 

 

THE END