Wishful Thoughts

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.

The baby’s cries woke him.

Strange. No babies in the house.

Jarrod rolled to the empty side of the bed. Louisa’s side. She’d been gone three years but he still found it hard to accept or believe. Odd. The way your mind played tricks. The bed felt warm, as if someone had just gotten up. His hand slid over the pillow the way it often did, wishing, hoping to feel her still there and felt the indentation of a pillow slept upon. Just my imagination. I must be dreaming. I’ve always slept alone in this bed.

The baby’s cries came closer.

“Jarrod, darling, scoot over so I can get back in bed with the baby. She wants to be fed.”

Louisa? Her voice. Her cool touch as she caressed his arm to wake him. How could this be? Louisa was dead. Murdered.

“Jarrod,” more insistent now as the baby’s cries grew louder, “move over.”

“Baby?” He questioned stupidly while rolling back to his side of the bed. A dream. I must be dreaming.

Yet Louisa laughed, warm, alive. The bed shifted as she got back in beside him. “Yes, our daughter, Caroline.”

“Our daughter’s name is Jenny.”

“Poor little girl,” Louisa crooned to the baby Jarrod could feel squirming between them. Her small feet kicked as Louisa settled her to a comfortable feeding position. “We haven’t had you very long but even someone who’s been as busy as your Daddy with the Relford case should remember you.”

The Relford case. Yes. And Caroline. Suddenly he could remember it all. The night she was born. His opening arguments. Was this reality then? The awful dream of Louisa and Nicky being murdered wasn’t true?

Wonderingly, Jarrod touched the silken hair of the baby lying warm and soft between them. He trailed his fingertips down a soft, downy cheek.

Caroline. Yes, their second daughter. Two months old last week. His mind swam suddenly with memories. Nicky’s quick acceptance of the baby. Jenny’s pouts and sulks. He could remember every detail of the day Jenny had announced to everyone she was going to live with Grammie because now they had a new baby nobody liked her. Louisa was all for packing her little satchel and sending her on her way. Having experienced a little of her jealous when Nick was born, Jarrod took a more sympathetic view. It took all his finesse as an attorney to convince his doubting daughter, but he’d finally managed to assure her of his love.

“Jarrod, would you mind checking on the children? It’s turned so cool and you know how Nicky kicks off his blankets.”

Nicky. If Louisa were alive than so was his son. The Salinas house surrounded him as he walked upstairs to the children’s rooms. Every step familiar. Jenny’s room to the left. A quick peek at his daughter snuggled under her quilts with five or six dolls, spurs hanging from the bed post and enough hair ribbons to stock a general store.

Nicky’s room across the hall. Nicky. Alive.

True to his mother’s prediction, Nicky’s blankets were heaped on the floor. Jarrod smiled as the path of moonlight flooding the room shone toward Nicky curled on his bed. From his tousled curls to his bare toes, Jarrod loved every inch of this amazing little boy he called his son. A dream, a dream! Thank God it was just a horrible dream. My son is alive. My little boy with his gap toothed smile, his pockets filled with rocks or pinecones and his engaging love of animals and nature.

Picking up the blankets, he covered Nicky tucking in the edges. Jarrod leaned over to brush the hair from Nicky’s forehead and to place a quick kiss on an abnormally clean cheek. Reveling in the simple joy of being able to tuck his son in and kiss him goodnight. He grinned as a wisp of Nicky’s earlier conversation with Louisa flitted across his min

“Mama,” Nicky always complained about his mother’s ministrations with a washcloth and soap, “how come I gotta be clean to go to bed? Nobody sees me there!”

Jarrod stood and studied the precious child, reluctant to leave the room. Fearing, almost, Nicky would be gone if he turned his back. No, no...the other was a dream. This is real. My child is alive.

Almost as if to prove the reality of the moment, Jarrod tripped slightly over a stuffed animal as he walked out of the room. Daudra. Lovingly, he picked up the little pig and tucked it into Nicky’s hand. Nicky’s warm fingers curled around the familiar form and even in sleep his little lips curved into a contented smile.

Walking down the stairs, his heart expanding with unbounded joy, Jarrod shook off the other dream. What a horrible dream! Louisa and Nicky murdered by Justin. But maybe it’s a warning to keep my family safer. I must think of things I should do to make certain no one harms any of them.

Getting back into bed, he reached joyfully for his wife and baby. Reached and touched only cold emptiness.

No! No! I wanted the other to be a dream! I wanted them to be alive!

Jarrod sat up, heart thudding and his legs twisted in the blankets. The Stockton house. An empty bed. Another wishful dream. The truth remains.

THE END