THE WEAKER VESSEL / Prologue / Parts 1-6

by Mrs NickB

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 Weaker Vessel' was written in collaboration with 'The Voyage' by Abigail of Dreamers. In the interest of story flow, excerpts from 'The Voyage' (posted in blue) will be interspersed within 'The Weaker Vessel' and are used with the permission of the author.

Prologue

Stockton (while Nick and Laura were Sufferin' in Sacramento):

“The new teacher is arriving tomorrow,” Victoria announced towards the end of dinner in late August.

“Oh, that’s right; Mr. Martin’s retired now,” Audra said. “Who’s the replacement?”

“A young lady named Hope Dougherty from Boston.”

“That’s quite a ways to travel just for a teaching position, Mother,” Jarrod commented. “Why did you choose her? There are more local teachers that are suitable.”

“Jarrod, don’t you remember? I advertised in several eastern states because I wanted for Stockton School to have the best teacher we can find. Miss Dougherty attended Mount Holyoke Female Seminary. California is hardly a distance when compared to all the missions throughout the world where Holyoke graduates teach. It really is an excellent ladies’ college, and she comes highly recommended from her teachers.”

“Her teachers?” Audra said somewhat dolefully. “I suppose that means she’s a bookworm. I had thought perhaps we could have some fun.”

“Don’t count the old school marm out yet, sis,” Heath teased. “And don’t you worry about having fun; Nick and Laura will be back soon enough." Audra swatted him playfully.

“She’s arriving on the morning train from San Francisco, and I will be meeting her there. I expect she’ll be tired from the journey and will want to rest some, so I’m taking her to the school for a short visit and then to Mrs. Murphy’s Boarding House. Jarrod, I’ll be inviting her to dinner here, so I’d like for you to pick her up before you come home from the office. And don’t get too caught up in things; she shouldn’t have to wait for you." Jarrod had to smile at his mother’s caution and caught the teasing grin Heath was pointing towards him. He rose from the table and began walking towards Victoria.

“I’ll remember, Mother." He planted a kiss on her cheek. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some papers to finish up, and then a game of pool, Heath?”

“Sure thing, Jarrod.”

The next evening:

Jarrod presented himself at Mrs. Murphy’s front stoop at quarter of six.

“Would yeh like to come in, Jarrod?”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Murphy. I regret I am somewhat later than I intended. Is the young lady ready?

“Yes,” she replied, though she had no evidence to prove or disprove her statement. “I’ll tell ‘er ye’re here." The old woman pivoted jauntily and went to fetch Hope.

I hope this isn’t too terrible a dinner. I loved Boston, but am much too familiar with the ‘Mrs. Jones’ Preparatory School for Girls’ type. I’ll be lucky if she keeps silent during the ride, or restrains herself to polite conversation. He looked heavenward. God, let her be plain. It’s too much to hope that she be pretty, but I don’t know if I could stand looking at a pinch-faced snob--

Hope came to the door and watched Jarrod’s expression change from one she couldn’t recognize to an open, welcoming one.

“Miss Dougherty, I’m Jarrod Barkley." He offered a hand which she took.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barkley.”

“If you’ll come with me, my carriage is right over here." He led her to the carriage and helped her up, the action garnering a word of thanks. With a sharp flick of the wrist, Jarrod started the team, and they were off.

“So, how do you like Stockton so far?” he began after a moment.

“What I’ve seen is nice, but that amounts to driving from the station to Mrs. Murphy’s, and seeing the school, so I haven’t seen very much,” she said, with a small chuckle towards the end. “That makes me sound like I’m sure I won’t like the rest of what I see. That’s not what I meant. And now I sound like a child protesting innocence from cookie-snatching. Dear, I can’t seem to get my tongue to follow my brain this evening. I’m sorry. And now I’ve babbled.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. You don’t sound like a child; you sound like a well-mannered young lady who’s still tired confusing her words in an attempt to convey an honest thought. Don’t worry about it, Miss Dougherty.”

“Hope.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hope, Hope Dougherty. I can’t fathom being called ‘Miss Dougherty’ all the time. My students will have to, I’m sure, but doesn’t it ever bother you to be constantly an impersonal title and family name? I hate it.”

“I see what you mean, but I like it in some ways.”

“Sign of manhood, perhaps?” Jarrod turned to look at her.

“Hadn’t thought of it that way, but perhaps you’re right. Hope it is, then. So, what are your thoughts on this ‘sign of manhood’?”

“Well, now, I see what my tongue’s gotten me into! Let’s see, then; if I’ve dug my grave no sense in delaying it’s use." He smiled at the teasing tone and resigned-to-death humor.

“From your dress, you are educated, yet your family owns a ranch. Your father was the one who began it, was he not?” Jarrod nodded. “So, I can imagine you were called your given name, or ‘kid’ or ‘boy’ by everyone at home, at school, and all over the ranch. Then, you went to be educated. You came back, and all of a sudden, it’s ‘Mr. Barkley.’ You enjoy the respect never lent a boy.”

“I never thought about it like that,” he said with a wry smile. “Are you always this... philosophical, or are the deep thoughts and analyses reserved for tired nights and wearisome carriage rides with the most insufferable lawyer?”

“Oh, my! Most certainly I reserve such favors especially for insufferable lawyers.”

“Alright, then; now it’s my turn. You’ve displayed my inner workings; I want to see yours. What leads an educated, well-mannered, intelligent young lady across the country? You’ve never been here before, you aren’t accustomed to the weather or the locale, for that matter. Mother reminded me that Mount Holyoke is quite prestigious; you didn’t have to come to some rough-and-tumble, western ranch town.”

"That is true,” she answered carefully, “but I’m not just going to give out answers like a pastry chef trying to sell more by handing out free croissants. You’ve got to work for that information.”

“Your clothes just say that you do not have financial difficulties and do have good taste. Anything I say will be a guess.”

“Well, for that fine compliment, I shall grant you three guesses." He sighed.

“Alright; three guesses it is. One: you have relatives here. Two: you are one of those adventurous souls who’s got it in your head to ‘go west.’ Three: you have heard of the lack of females in most towns and are a mere husband hunter!”

“However did you guess my marital intent?” she fluttered, feigning shock. “Truly, though, both one and two, though I must admit to mostly two.”

“So you’ve been lured out here by the siren call: ‘Go west, young lady’?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“You know,” she began again, “this country here is so different, so similar, and so beautiful.”

“Yes, I’d noticed,” he said with an indulgent grin. “You have relatives here?”

“I did. My uncle died a few months back, but my cousin lives here. Actually, I believe she’s married, or is about to be. I’m hoping she can help me learn some things.”

“What sort of things?”

“How to ride a horse, drive a carriage.”

Jarrod pulled the carriage to the side of the road abruptly and stopped the horse.

“What’s wrong?” Hope asked, puzzled.

“Nothing.”

“Then why aren’t we going anymore?”

“Because you haven’t started the horses yet. Welcome to your first driving lesson." Hope laughed.

“Where do I begin?”

“At the beginning.”

“You’re being flippant. Let’s see; you flicked your wrists when we started. Is that how?”

“Ten points for being observant. Yes, by flicking your wrist, the rein will hit the horse’s back, telling him to move. Make sure he feels it, but not too hard." She eyed him warily.

“Alright." She tried, but it was not hard enough. Screwing up her face with a determined look, she tried again and started the horse.

“See? You’ve got it,” Jarrod commented. “Just give him another to speed him up a bit.”

“If you say so,” she replied with another flick.

“How do I stop him?” she asked after a moment, her eyebrows scrunched.

“You just pull back on the reins, and you can say ‘whoa’ or ‘hold up, boy’ if you like.”

“Oh, I see. It doesn’t seem as hard as I thought it would be.

“What’s the horse’s name?”

“Uh, this fellow is Pueblo.”

“Interesting name for the horse. After the Pueblo Indians. Why’d you name him that?”

“I didn’t; my brother Heath did. He said the horse’s reddish-brown color reminded him of the adobe houses the Pueblos built and, since he didn’t consider ‘Adobe’ a proper name for a horse, he chose Pueblo.”

“Sounds like good logic to me."

* * * * *

Jarrod held the door open for Hope.

“Mother,” he called.

“We’re in the den. Ah, Miss Dougherty, it’s lovely to see you again." The latecomers walked into the den. Audra’s face cheered some. “Audra, this is Miss Dougherty, our new schoolteacher."

“I’m very glad to meet you, Miss Dougherty,” she said with a sweet smile as she extended her hand, which Hope took.

“I am as well, and, as I told your brother, it’s just Hope.”

“Yes, Hope theorized her views on titles and family names on the way home,” Jarrod added with a smirk. Hope answered with a knowing smile, which Audra caught.

“Well, then,” she said in her soft, chalky voice, “you must call me Audra.”

“Jarrod, would you get the sherry?” Victoria called. “You don’t mind joining us in a glass before dinner, do you, Hope?”

“Not at all; it would be my pleasure." If this glass takes too long, I’ll be needing something harder than sherry, she thought to herself. When do they eat? It’s dark out and I’m hungry; good thing they didn’t hear my stomach growl a minute ago.

Audra had heard it; taking pity on her, she moved to help Jarrod. “Pour a little less than usual,” she whispered. He nodded his assent. Audra turned to hand Hope and Victoria their glasses. The latter noticed the deficiency, but at a glance from her daughter withheld question.

“I propose a toast,” Jarrod said. “To Stockton’s new schoolteacher. May she teach students for years to come and may all good things befall her." They all sipped.

“Thank you, Mr. Barkley; that is very kind.”

“Just Jarrod. I can stand to hear it a few more times, I think, and without the title,” he smiled.

“Hope,” Audra began, “what do you like to do for fun?”

“Drink, smoke, and gamble,” she replied without missing a beat. They all laughed. “To be honest, I like to draw, and sew, and, when no one can hear my terrible warblings, sing. I also like to do charitable work. Thinking on that, can you tell me what sort of work there is to do in service here?”

“Well, I work with the orphans.”

“That’s wonderful, Audra,” Hope replied with an excited smile. “Would you mind if I came along?”

“I’d be glad to take you. They need ever so much help, and the children are a joy.”

“Thank you. Would sewing benefit them?”

“Oh, most certainly; they always need clothes, especially for the boys, who get holes in them so they can’t be passed on and then grow like weeds. Do you sew often?” Audra questioned.

“I used to work as a seamstress, and though I do love to do it, it is terrible to do for young ladies who have nothing better to do than compromise my designs not once but several times as their fickle nature moves them." Audra laughed.

“Did you make that dress?”

“I recut it; one of my patrons was kind enough to bestow an old dress on me and, as she was taller, which I admit is not a difficult feat, and it was plain, I refashioned it.”

“It is lovely,” Victoria complimented with a knowing smile. “Shall we move on to dinner?”

“What about Heath?” Jarrod asked.

“He sent word before you arrived that he needed to stay out late. He sent his regrets, but it was important.”

“Too bad,” Audra said. “He would have loved to meet you, Hope, I’m sure.”

“My father always says, ‘If there’s a storm, the light’s gotta go on, and it don’t matter that you don’t want to climb the ladder to do it.’”

“Well, adjust that to cows and fences and it fits perfectly,” Jarrod said innocently, but Hope gave him a glint of a glare that showed she knew the game he was playing and hadn’t fallen for it. Jarrod extended his arm to Victoria. “Shall we go in, then?”

* * * * *

They were on their second course; any feelings of hunger Hope had had were long gone, and she feared being impolite as she did not feel she could eat much more. The family servant, was he called Silas, appeared with a bottle of white wine and showed it to Jarrod, who nodded his approval. Silas took the bottle to the side and opened it. Then he began pouring, starting with Victoria. When he got to Hope, she shook her head.

“No thank you,” she said politely.

“It’s made right here on the ranch,” Jarrod countered, “sure you won’t have any?”

“Maybe some other time, but I am too tired already,” she replied with a smile. “I would greatly appreciate a glass of water, though, if you have the time,” she asked Silas.

“Certainly, miss,” the old man replied with a grin. He returned shortly with a pitcher and filled her wine glass with it. It struck Victoria as odd that he would do that, but at Hope’s grateful smile, she realized the girl was making a good impression with everyone, even Jarrod. They were similar enough, but she sensed something that just didn’t fit with wedding bells. Oh, well; it was enough that Nick had just been married. There was no need to rush or make hasty judgment, though: Jarrod was captivated by their guest.

Hope took a sip of her water, and watched Jarrod through the corner of her eye. She waited until Jarrod was almost done sipping.

“Mrs. Barkley, you are a strong minded woman; what do you think of suffrage?” Just as she’d hoped, Jarrod sputtered on his carefully selected wine. Audra suppressed a smirk, and Victoria decided to join whatever plot Hope was working on. Jarrod took another sip to stop his coughing.

“I hadn’t thought too much of it,” Victoria replied. “Why do you think we should?” Jarrod almost started coughing again.

“Yes, please tell us more,” Audra added sweetly.

“I don’t know that I should; it isn’t a woman’s place to speak her mind, you know.”

“Why ever not?” came Audra’s innocent question.

“Legally it isn’t; otherwise, we’d be able to express ourselves on election day." Jarrod regained his voice.

“There’s no need for women to vote; they are taken care of by their husbands and fathers, who vote on behalf of the family.”

“If men really are taking care of women, then why are our rights to own property restricted? Is that looking out for us?”

“Of course it is; women aren’t supposed to take care of that thing.”

“What happens to widows and orphans?”

“Friends look out for them, the state helps." Jarrod’s voice was gaining decibels with every response, while Hope remained perfectly calm and even appeared somewhat disinterested.

“That from men who cut the budget every chance they get? There’d have been no need to extend it if we were granted the same rights as men, and now that people are dependent on it you want to undermine the only support they have.”

“That’s not true!”

“Where is your evidence, counselor? I don’t want an expansive government any more than you do; what I want is my rights.”

“You have rights the same as I.”

“I beg your pardon. Are you not aware that Congress ratified the Fourteenth Amendment only a few years ago?”

“Of course I’m aware of it; what does that have to do with anything?”

“’All persons born or naturalized in the United States and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.’” Her voice held strength without any real force.

“Section One, congratulations; you have yet to demonstrate its relevance.”

“I was born in Massachusetts; that makes me a citizen. I can pay taxes, I could go to jail, but I can vote for neither the senator who levied the tax nor the judge who passed sentence. I would have great difficulty owning my own property.”

“It is not necessary!”

“That is immaterial. I am a citizen, my rights have been abridged, and I have been deprived of both liberty and property.”

“You are exasperating!”

“You’re the only one exasperated,” she said, fixing him with a pleasant smile. He heaved a sigh and glanced at his mother, who had a bemused look on her face, having understood what had really happened, more important than the discussion on suffrage.

“Yes,” he conceded with another sigh, “that is correct.”

“Mrs. Barkley, you spoke of a Harvest Fair this morning. What sort of things go on? I’d like to know so I can help the children get ready for it. I remember loving that sort of thing." Once again Victoria was amused. She’d been right about Hope, and she was even more certain than before.

“There are all sorts of games. You already know about sewing and carving, but there’s also livestock and baking, a horse shoe toss, a spelling bee......”

The following Monday

She was almost at Jarrod’s office. The sky was as blue as the eyes of the man she had bumped into at the store. She guiltily enjoyed the embarrassment on his face at swearing in front of her. A true gentleman isn’t a man who doesn’t swear, but one who cares that he does, she thought with a twitch of a smile. Maybe the man would find that out one day, and maybe he was glad it wasn’t an old lady who would’ve fainted at the sound. She looked up to see a shingle reading “Jarrod Barkley Attorney at Law” stand out against the light blue sky. Somehow she always felt like she was in a rush. If she wasn’t there early, she was late; if there was a chance to go beforehand, she’d take it; if the sun wasn’t up yet, she wasn’t going to wait for it to come before she awoke.

She opened the door to see a secretary. Closing the door behind her, she approached the desk; it was just one o’clock: she had forced herself to slow down and not be early. Jarrod’s behavior made her slightly nervous and she didn’t want to appear over-anxious.

“Excuse me, I have a one o’clock appointment with Mr. Barkley." The woman looked down at her calendar, scanned it with the aid of her finger, and looked up again.

“Miss Dougherty? I’ll tell him you’re here. You may have a seat if you wish." Hope stepped back but remained standing while the secretary went into Jarrod’s office. She returned a moment later. “Go right in, miss.”

“Thank you,” Hope said with a smile and walked in. Jarrod rose immediately.

“Hope, lovely to see you. I’ve made a reservation at the Stockton Inn. Shall we be on our way?”

“Sounds lovely. I’m ready if you are."

Jarrod took her arm and led her out the room and from the building. Walking in the sunshine, he noticed that men were noticing the girl on his arm.

“Look, Hope. You may not think you’re the loveliest lady in town, but every bachelor on this street is noticing you and thinking that exact thing.”

“I wish they wouldn’t."

Jarrod thought he detected an undercurrent of fear in her voice, but decided not to press it. “The weather today is lovely, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but it’s a bit warm to my tastes.”

“Ah, but you’re from New England; everything’s warm compared to that." She laughed.

“True, that’s very true. Is this the inn, then?”

“It is indeed. It’s one of my favorite places to pay up my bets." He held the door for her and they walked in.

* * * * *

The food of such a reputable restaurant did not receive it’s full due as Jarrod kept up a steady flow of questions and conversational topics, though, to be fair, Hope spoke quite a bit herself.

“So, in all the topics we’ve covered, and I admit, there have been many, I think I have yet to ask about your home. All I know is that it’s near Boston and your house is smaller than mine.”

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“Whatever you want to tell me about it. I went to school there, so I’ll at least have an idea of what you’re talking about.”

“Alright. Now, don’t forget I’ll be testing your knowledge on it later, so pay attention. I’m one of eleven children, ten are alive.”

“Eleven; that’s quite a few. You must hear this often, but I’m curious: what are all the names, in order?”

“You’re right, I do hear it. Well, my eldest brother died when he was an infant, so he hasn’t a name. Then there’s Sean, I, Liam, Bridget, Siobhan, Andrew, John, Mary, Thomas, and Caetlin.”

“I can hardly imagine your mother calling for them all.”

“Well, it is a mouthful, especially with all the nicknames, but that’s another story, so enough of that. My mother came from Eire when she was thirteen, and on my father's side, my grandfather and grandmother were immigrants, so was my aunt, but my father was born in Boston. He used to be a sailor, but Ma never liked it, so when the position of lightkeeper came up he took it.”

“You lived in a lighthouse?”

“Surely we did. I loved it. I love the sea. It was nice, a bit isolated, but lovely. Sometimes I got to help with the light when it was foggy or a storm. The house was lovely, too; old, and damp, but cheery and cozy. We’d have to get up early to get to school on time, but the wet morning air was lovely and I wouldn’t miss it for a thing. Only thing that wasn’t good was coming in from work.”

“Work?”

“We all get jobs by the time we’re twelve. I worked in my Uncle Paddy’s Pub.”

“You worked there?”

“It wasn’t anything bad; Uncle Paddy looked out for me and it was a way for the family to help each other. I worked there and, when Ma saw how I took to sewing, I started working as a seamstress. Had a lot of fun in both, you know, though serving drinks is much better than listening to the whines of young ladies with no cares and too much money." Jarrod laughed.

“I haven’t worked as either, but I can understand the point."

“Be glad about the sewing; nothing is more tiresome than a willful, whimful, fickle young lady who takes apart your designs piece by piece when you know what looks best on her. And then, as you are only their employee, these same girls complain that it’s not what they thought it would be. They’ve been brought up senseless and are completely capable of living up to it.”

“Sounds as if you’ve had enough.”

“Dear me, I was ranting wasn’t I. Well, yes. Some ladies were pleasures to work with; most just needed something other than air between their ears.”

“I’m sure Stockton will be glad we have the former,” he replied, still laughing.

“I don’t know about that. You haven’t told them about my seedy underside, have you?”

“Not yet.”

“Ah, then I’m wary, for when they find out, they’ll burn me at the stake.”

“No, we abolished that in California quite some time ago." She laughed and stole a glance at her small watch hanging around her neck.

“It’s getting late now; it’s past two-thirty. Did you know that?”

“I hadn’t noticed at all.”

“Don’t you have appointments?”

“None until three-thirty.”

“Why do I think this is a conspiracy?”

“No reason. Why do you want to leave?”

“Well, I’ve had a lovely time, honestly I have, but I need to work on my lessons for the children. School starts Monday, and that’s only a week away. I also need to get started on some other things. Do you mind? I should think an hour and a half pays off your marker more than necessary.”

“Not at all. I’m sure I can find things to do; none will be as charming, of course.”

“Are you a lawyer or a flatterer? I assure you, writing lessons is not as fun as you either, but what must be done must be done. As my father says--”

“‘If there’s a storm, the light’s gotta go on, and it don’t matter that you don’t want to climb the ladder to do it.’ And as much as I don’t like to admit it at this time, your father is a wise man." Jarrod rose and pulled back Hope’s chair.

“You remembered it! It is very true, but don’t worry, I won’t make a habit of quoting it too often.”

“You can say it as often as you like. Truth bears repeating.”

“But constant repeating reaps no harvest save discontent.”

“Does your father say that?”

“No, that was me.”

* * * * *

Hope laid on her bed in her room. Her schedule had been finished very quickly; it was almost done when she’d used it as an excuse. Dinner with the family, lunch the next day... it was all too fast for her. She really liked Jarrod, but she had thought they would be friends. She wasn’t the most knowledgeable on such things, being only eighteen, but she sensed that he was trying to make it more than she was ready for, more even than she wanted.

He had pointed out the way men noticed her, but she had noted the women, the stares from being on the arm of the man who was probably Stockton’s most eligible young bachelor. Hope detested both types. She didn’t want to be noticed; all it made was trouble. She had never seen anything exceptional in her looks, but others did and it scared her. She wanted love, a marriage, children, and she realized a physical element was important. Her hand reached down and rubbed her weary thigh; no, being noticed was for the most part a bad thing.... all it led to was trouble.

Part 1

Audra stood outside the schoolhouse at around quarter to three. She was a bit early, but she had planned to drop by and see if Hope would come to the orphanage with her. Remembering her mother’s reminder that the younger girl couldn’t ride, she had brought the carriage. From inside she heard a sudden clattering, followed by swarms of children leaving the building in a hurry. Smiling, after the last had left she climbed the few stairs to the door and stepped in to see Hope with her hand covering her eyes and a grin crossing her face.

“Have a good day at school?” Audra asked.

“That sounds like what parents will be asking my pupils tonight at dinner. In answer to your question, today was quite good. I had a lovely time, though I think I have a few mischievous ones, and maybe a few schoolyard brawls I’ll have to break up sometime in the future.”

“My brother Nick always was into fights. I remember being in school my first year, and he being several years older was right at that age where boys start into each other. At his best, Nick is not a diplomat and, well, he took on someone who was a great deal bigger. Eli knocked him around quite a bit, but all through Father’s scoldings, he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face that he’d licked him. Took a sprained wrist and two black eyes, but I was so proud to point to him and say that he was my brother.”

“Ah, yes. Sean’s three years older than me, and Liam two younger, and I saw quite a few fights. I knew they’d get in trouble, though, and be late for work, so I tried to break them up.

“Somehow, though, I don’t think you’re here to talk about youthful exuberance, shall we call it?”

“You are correct. I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to the orphanage today. My brother’s there, he’s doing some repairs and I know the children would love to meet you.”

“What a marvelous idea. If you don’t mind waiting a bit, I’ll pack up my things here, leave them in my room, and then I’ll be ready.”

“Not at all. I left the surrey by Mrs. Murphy’s.”

“Thank you." Hope gathered her things quickly and they walked over to the boarding house. Hope opened the door and turned to Audra. “Would you like to come in for a moment?”

“Certainly." They walked down the short corridor and into the room.

“This is very nice,” Audra complimented.

“I am so lucky Mrs. Murphy has good taste. I’ve got my things away. Do you think it would be alright if I brought my little kit? It has my tape measure, sketchbook, and some material I bought for the children. If I may, I’d like to get some things down so I can start on the clothes you mentioned.”

“That would be wonderful. Hope, you’ve been here less than a week, and already you’re thinking about the children.”

“It’s nothing. I like the work, and you know, they always say, ‘Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.’”

“I think there’s more to it than that, but we should be on our way."

Hope appreciated that Audra wasn’t going to push her. She’s really a sweet girl, Hope thought. It’s a wonder she isn’t married. Audra was having similar thoughts, though hers involved Jarrod and a curiosity as to Hope’s thought on the matter. They walked to the carriage and got in.

“Would you like to take the reins? Jarrod said he showed you how.”

“He did? I wonder at that; he wasn’t keen on my taking them after dinner. No, if you don’t mind, I’ll just enjoy the scenery for now.”

Audra started the horses and Hope did admire the scenery as they drove out of town.

“Jarrod mentions you often, you know,” Audra said when they were out of town.

“He does?” Her tone was somewhat forlorn.

“Yes. He seems quite taken with you, if you ask me.”

“Oh."

Audra was puzzled; Jarrod and Hope had seemed to truly enjoy each other’s company, but Hope seemed genuinely distraught that he was interested in her.

“You do like him, don’t you?”

“Yes, he’s a lot of fun and I enjoy spending time with him.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

“He’s going too fast. We met Saturday evening, and had lunch Monday.”

“You had lunch?”

“He claimed it was his way of losing the bet that I could get him worked up. It seemed, too, that last Friday was his day to ‘run into’ me. I’m sure to him it’s just his way of getting to know me and profess an interest, but, may I be frank?”

“Go ahead; I know what you mean.”

“Do you really? It frightens me. It frightens me to go as quickly as he is.”

“I do know what you mean. I’ve been caught up by it a couple times, but, and I hate to say it, it was lucky that nothing came of them. You know, more than one girl fallen for Jarrod--”

“I can understand why.”

“-- but he doesn’t fall for them. I could tell him to slow down, if you want.”

“Could you find a round-about way to do it? I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“Don’t worry; Mother and I will come up with something.”

“Thank you. I consider Jarrod a friend, and I don’t see anything else. I just don’t want to make any decisions right now.”

“I think that’s for the best. I haven’t known you long, but Hope Dougherty, I really like you, enough that I think being sisters would be wonderful.”

“You are very generous, Audra, and I think we will be good friends.”

“You have to meet Nick and his wife when they get back. We three girls will have lots of fun.”

“I’m sure we will. All my sisters are younger than I, but we still managed to gray Da’s hair.”

“How many sisters do you have?”

“Four." Audra sighed.

“Sounds like fun. My brothers are perfect, but I always wanted a sister.”

“Well, now you have one, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but she’s on her honeymoon, and here I am, an old maid.”

“I’d hardly call you an old maid, and I’m sure she’ll be back soon enough. Don’t worry; sometimes people get married early, sometimes they get married a bit older, but it doesn’t matter half as much as why they’re getting married in the first place.”

“I suppose I knew that, but it was nice to hear it anyway.”

“Well, feel free to return the favor any time. I can always use some common sense.”

“Can’t we all.

“If you look to the left, you can see the orphanage from here.”

“And the children are out playing, how sweet.”

“You’ll love them, Hope.”

“I’m sure I will. What’s that on the roof?”

“That’s my brother, Heath.”

“The one who had an emergency Saturday night. Do you think he’ll have the time to talk about carving with the boys?”

“Surely he will. He may not admit it, but he’s wonderful with children and enjoys every minute of it.”

“Sounds like Sean, but he isn’t going to have any children.”

“Oh? Did, did he catch measles?” Audra asked, curious but striving not to be nosey. Hope laughed.

“You are a dear. No, he’s in a seminary." Audra was still a bit puzzled. “He’s becoming a priest.”

“I see,” said Audra cheerily. “Looks like curiosity killed the cat after all. Ah, here we are." She stopped the horses and put the brake on. The women got out of the carriage and approached the children. “Boys and girls!”

“Miss Audra!” came the shouts as piles of children descended on her.

“Alright, calm down. I brought a dear friend with me; children, this is Miss Hope. She’s going to visit you as well." Miniature people rushed up to meet their new curiosity.

“How are all of you?” Hope asked cheerily. Several replies of “Good” and “Alright” came in return.

“Glad to hear that, children. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’d like to have some fun. What do you say we go have some fun?”

Shouts and cheers swelled in the air and many hands reached forward to pull Hope forward.

“Looks like I’m on my way,” Hope said, angling her head towards Audra as she was led away from the building.

Heath turned back to the roof and finished hammering the last nail in a shingle. He wiped the sweat from his face with his neckerchief and, tilting his head downward, climbed down the ladder. He made his way alongside Audra.

“That the new teacher?” he asked, pointing with a shrug of the shoulder as he rolled down his cuffs.

Part 2

"...the holy women were subordinate to their husbands, thus Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him 'lord'...you husbands should live with your wives in understanding, showing honor to the weaker vessel... (1Peter Ch.3, V.5-7)

You know a dream is like a river

Ever changin' as it flows

And a dreamer's just a vessel

That must follow were it goes

(From THE RIVER by Garth Brooks, Victoria Shaw)

Wiping the newly formed sweat from his neck with a towel, he accepts the early September morning's promise to be an unusually hot day; but Nick Barkley is more than a little anxious to get back into the routine of doing what he loves best, running his ranch! After being away for four long weeks on a honeymoon with his lovely wife, he is more than happy to settle into a hopefully, dull routine of ranching, as compared to the maddening misadventures of their Sacramento honeymoon. Remembering the longest night of his life, the night his wife spend in the county jail, and he pacing the floor of their suite, not daring to lay in the soft, comfortable bed. Sick with worry for her as his mind imagined all sorts of horrors befalling her in that bleak, wretched cell. The fault of it, he laid squarely on those suffering witches! 'may I drop dead if I ever see any of those women anytime soon! Better yet! May they drop dead if they ever see this face again! ' he scowls to himself in the mirror, flicking the last of his whiskers off with his razor, and those suffragers along with them. Finally a smile crawls over his face as he thinks of their passionate lovemaking last night, in their own bed, the first, since their wedding day, when he convinced her of the importance of the first time and place. He laughs to himself. Ah, sweet memories!

Suddenly, arms playfully grasp him at his waist.

"Hey! You almost made me cut my throat! You're dangerous woman!" he jokes.

"You knew that before you married me!" his wife laughs.

"Yeah, but I married you anyway!" he teases. She playfully slaps him on the stomach, her arms still wrapped tightly at his waist.

"Let me do that." She stares at his reflection in the mirror.

"You don't need a shave," he says, patting her hand around his waist.

"Let me shave you! Come on!" she charmingly begs.

"Do you think I'm stupid enough to hand a razor blade over to the most dangerous woman in the valley?"

"Listen, I've seen my father do it a hundred times."

"Of course, watching a barber would make you an expert, of course."

She releases him, takes the shaving mug from the stand, mixes it and coquettishly dabs it on his face. He snatches the shaving mug and slams it back in it's place.

"We don't have time for this, get dressed so we can go down to breakfast."

"Let me shave you first."

"Laura..." he feigns annoyance.

"You let me shave you when we were at Indian Springs." she broods, then smiles coyly at him as she wraps her arms around him again from the front.

"That was when we were fooling around. I don't have time for that now. I've got a ranch to run." He pushes her away and wipes his face with a towel. Then wraps the towel around her neck, pulling her into a kiss.

"Got a ranch to run." he smiles as he looks down into her blue eyes, savoring the taste of her kiss.

"This ranch ran just fine without you for weeks, what's another few minutes?" She takes his hands, urging him towards a chair in the room, she forces him to sit down, then gets the shaving items, placing them nearby on a table. He grins, as she straddles him over his lap, wearing a lacy white cache-sexe.

"Oh no, I know where this is leading to," he grins cautiously. He puts his hands on her waist to lift her off, she stops him by putting her arms around his neck and kisses him.

"Now just what do you have in mind woman?"

"I told you, I want to shave you."

"I already shaved."

"You missed a spot, right there!" She dabs the shaving cream brush on his chin, then takes the razor and is about to shave his face, when he grabs her wrist, tightly, stopping her assault.

"You know, not many men would let their wives take a sharp instrument to them! You're not aiming to make yourself a widow anytime soon, are ya?" They smile at each other; she customarily bites her lip.

"Not as long as you behave yourself and do my every bidding!" she chastens him with a gleam in her eye.

"I already do your every bidding Milady. You got me wrapped around that little finger, right there!" Grabbing her hand as he playfully bites it. She laughs.

"Up ya go!" Nick grabs her by the buttocks, lifting her from the chair and unceremoniously drops her on the table, letting the shaving utensils fall to the floor. A delighted look spreads across her face.

"Now, this could be fun too!" He takes the razor from her hand, after closing the safety hinge, he throws it on the shaving stand, where it lands, leaning against the small mirror. He wipes his face again with the towel still wrapped around her neck.

"Forget it, can't play with you today little girl, got a ranch to run!" He appeases her pouting lips by giving them a quick kiss.

"Pretty please, with chocolate covered strawberries," she entreats him.

"Strawberries are out of season."

"Chocolate never is, and you'll love where I put it," she smiles wickedly at him, he laughs at her.

"Laura Meredith Barkley, are you tempting me with your wicked ways?"

"Yes. Is it working?" she flirts teasingly.

"Not today my pretty!" He taps her nose with his index finger, then walks towards the door.

"Nick..!" she whines after him.

"We can play tonight, after dinner."

"I may not be in a mood to play, so there!" Nick laughs knowingly, as he opens the bedroom door.

"Oh yes you will." He closes the door behind him, still laughing.

"Damn it, I hate it when he's right!" She jumps off the table tartly and hurriedly dresses for breakfast.

* * * * *

In the Barkley kitchen Silas is filling the serving dishes with food, when he hears his name being whispered. He turns towards the back stairs and sees a woman's hand holding out a coffee cup, just above the railing. Silas sighs, wondering at her insistence at always bringing the empty cup back to the kitchen.

"Oh, Mrs. Nick, I've done told ya a dozen times there's no need for ya to go and bring down yer cup, I'll be happy to go up and get it from yer room."

"Please Silas, you do me such a favor by bringing it to me every morning, I couldn't impose on you again, now please take it."

"How's yer headache this morning?" he queries, reaching up to take the cup from her.

"It's gone, thanks to your coffee." She peeks her head around the corner, still standing on the steps.

"You have no idea how much I missed your coffee. Nick's is an abomination. But I was so desperate, I drank it anyway. Bye Silas, thank you," she whispers as she scurries quietly back up the stairs.

"Your's somethin' else Missus. Oh lordy how she do make me laugh..." he chuckles to himself as he takes the plates of eggs out.

"Well, you're in a good mood Silas," Victoria replies, noticing his grin.

"That Mrs. Nick, she's a card. She's always sneakin' down just to give me her....Oh dear, I wasn't suppose to tell ya all."

"It's an open secret, we all know she sneaks down with the coffee cup," Nick laughs.

"I tell her there's no need, I 'd be happy to fetch it, but..."

"...she's as stubborn as the day is long," Jarrod interrupts, sipping his coffee.

"Now, I didn't go sayin' that Mr. Jarrod!"

"Didn't have to; that too, is an open secret," Jarrod winks as his brothers laugh, Victoria smiles, shaking her head.

In a few minutes Laura Barkley, dressed in riding clothes makes an appearance at the table.

"Good morning everyone," she says cheerily, as she gives her husband a quick peck on the cheek, then sits between him and Jarrod.

"How good of you to join us this morning, Laura."

"What do you mean Jarrod, am I late?"

"Laura dear, don't you think it would be prudent of you to enter from the kitchen, since you have a penchant for sneaking down that way first?" He leans his elbows on the table.

She sips her orange juice, taking time to carefully put the glass down, dabs her mouth daintily with a napkin and smiles sweetly at her brother-in-law, enjoying his waiting for her answer.

"...And deny you my grand entrance in the morning? Wouldn't think of it! I know how you so love pomp and circumstance Jarrod."

"She's got you pegged Jarrod," Heath laughs, after swallowing another fork full. Nick laughs with his mouth full.

"Ah womanhood, man's madness and delight," Jarrod looks heavenward. Audra takes her seat at the table, smiling a good morning to her family.

"Sorry I'm late everyone, did I miss anything?" She flicks her napkin onto her lap, looking about the table at her family.

"Only my grand entrance, though it didn't impress Jarrod at all I'm sorry to say." Jarrod shakes his head, smiling. Laura passes the plate of toast to her sister-in-law.

"Thank you." Audra starts, "Now I know you were both too tired from your trip yesterday, but I really must know about Sacramento. Was it exciting?"

"More than you'll ever now Sis," Nick answers, swallowing a large gulp of coffee.

"Then you must tell us all about it. Did you see anything new and different there?"

"You would be surprised at the new and different things we saw there," Laura offers sweetly, but still hoping to avoid any more discussion of it.

"Well do tell us all about it, Laura. Please regale us with your, shall we say, adventures?"

Jarrod adds with a wry smile, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Silas walks in with a fresh pot of coffee. Laura lifts up her cup to Silas, ignoring Jarrod's last query.

"Please Silas, if you don't mind," Laura entreats the servant. Silas pours her second cup of coffee. She takes a sip.

"Ah delicious as usual Silas." Jarrod clears his throat. Laura smiles at him.

"Something wrong Jarrod?"

"I was waiting for an answer."

"Oh, yes, we had a wonderful time, thank you for asking." Laura raises her coffee cup to him, happy to have successfully avoided any further discussion of Sacramento.

"Hmmph," he rolls his eyes.

"I will say this, the fishing at Indian Springs was great!" Nick changes the subject, for his grateful wife. Heath gives Jarrod a crooked grin, enjoying Jarrod's frustration.

"I can't believe you would actually go fishing Laura, I thought you hated it," interjects her mother-in-law.

"Actually I have grown quite fond of it."

"And she was quite good at it too, even baited her own hooks." Nick brags, smiling proudly at his wife. Victoria dabs her mouth with a napkin and folds it neatly by her plate.

"I am surprise Laura, that you actually touched the bait, for I know Nick always uses earth worms; somehow I don't imagine you touching them," says her mother-in-law.

"Well, you would be surprise, since I've gotten married the things I have....ahh...." Laura puts her napkin to her mouth, and shuts her eyes tightly, shaking her head. Nick is the first to roar with laughter. Her face turns crimson as the others join in the chorus of laughter. Victoria eyes the others to stop laughing. When the laughter finally subsides...Laura sighs, quite embarrassed. "I really have to learn to hold my tongue."

"Can't argue with that!" Nick offers his view, as he takes another bite of his breakfast. Laura swiftly kicks him under the table.

"OUCH!!!" he glares at his wife, as his hand flies under the table for a punishing pinch. Laura jumps out of the seat, causing the chair to fall on the floor.

"What in the world!" cries Victoria.

"You'll never be faster than me!" Nick claims, as he pushes himself out of his chair, sending it crashing, causing Laura to escape into the kitchen with Nick close at her heels, the two gleefully dash up the back staircase.

"It's official, they're back!" Audra cheerfully proclaims.

"Peace in this valley as we know it, is over!" Jarrod complains to his mother who smiles ruefully.

"Like two peas in a pod." Victoria adds smiling "And I wouldn't have it any other way. I have missed all the noise. It has been much too quiet here."

"Aw, you're going to regret saying that Mother." Jarrod wags his finger at her, she smiles in agreement.

Part 3

Upstairs in the hallway Nick grabs Laura by the back, pulling her up off the floor.

"GOTCHA!"

"NICK, PUT ME DOWN!" She laughs, kicking her heels up in the air. Nick pushes their bedroom door open with his back, bringing her inside.

"NICK, come on let me down!"

"Your wish is my command, Milady!" He throws her on the still unmade bed, and jumps on top of her. She hangs her arms around his neck.

"Now I have you where I want you!" She taunts him. A long, lingering kiss passes between them, then he wrenches her arms away from his neck and braces them down on the bed.

"Ahh, wish I could, but, I've got a ranch to run!" he quickly releases her, rolls off and stands beside the bed.

"Ahhh, Nick! Damn it!" She slaps her hands down on the mattress in frustration.

"Now don't go complaining, you knew this when you married me. Come on, get up!" He slaps her boot. She rises from the bed, catching him in another embrace.

"Are you sure I can't persuade you to linger a little longer?" she flirts.

"Oh you can persuade me all right, but you won't! I told you tonight, woman, and that's final! Come on, you didn't finish your breakfast yet." She releases him and primps in the full length mirror, smoothing out her clothes.

"I don't think I'll have anymore breakfast, we did have that big welcoming dinner last night."

"Well, suit yourself. Will I see ya at lunch?" He straightens out his neckerchief in the same mirror.

"Of course. I'm going to saddle up Tipper. I've missed riding him."

"Tipper?" an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, of course Silly, he is my horse after all." She grabs her hat and gloves from the bureau, hanging the hat around her neck. Nick follows her, as she opens the bedroom door.

"Ah, Laura, I need to ...ah...we need to talk." She descends the stairs with Nick trailing behind her. She reaches the bottom of the stairs, where Heath stands, waiting for Nick.

"Well, I see you're none the worse for wear," Heath teases good naturally.

"You know your brother; he's a pushover." She pulls on her riding gloves, winking at him.

"I said we need to talk Laura."

"We'll talk at lunch Nick," she starts for the door, anxious for her ride.

"No, we need to talk now."

"Fine, let's talk while we walk to the barn. I'll let you saddle up Tipper for me." She passes in front of Heath as she moves towards the front door.

"Tipper? Nick, you didn't tell her?" Heath's voice rising with eyebrows arched.

"Tell me what?" she faces Heath.

"Well, I was going to but, it slipped my mind," Nick says defensively.

"How can it slip your mind? You promised me you would tell her!" Heath's voice rising another octave.

"Tell me what?" Laura begins to worry.

"Well, we were busy!" Nick matches Heath's tone.

"You promised me you would tell her Nick!" Heath slaps his hat on his thigh in frustration at his brother's incompetence.

"Tell me what?" she asks a third time.

"If there wasn't a lady present!" Heath balls up his fist and shakes it, moving closer to it's intended target.

"Now, you just hold on there! I was going to tell her!" Nick shakes his finger at him.

"TELL ME WHAT?!" She stamps her foot to get the brothers' attention.

"TELL HER!" Heath yells.

"I' LL TELL HER!" Nick roars back. Nick looks at his wife, taking in a deep breathe.

"Is something wrong with Tipper? Is that why you're not telling me?!" a worried look across her face.

"Now relax there's nothing wrong with Tipper, he's fine, ain't that right Heath?"

"Right as rain." Heath promises, with a slight edge of sarcasm.

"Then what's going on?" she asks relieved but still concerned. Heath urges Nick on with a raised eyebrow. Nick heaves another heavy sigh and pulls at his right earlobe avoiding her glare. Laura is about ready to explode, as she waits for him to speak.

"Now you're a horse woman and you know a thing or two about horses," Nick starts out his explanation in a hopeful tone. Laura sighs loudly. Seeing anger already spreading on her face, Heath decides to take his leave.

"I'll see you outside Nick." Laura watches Heath make his escape out the front door with a wary eye, then turns a cold icy stare to her husband, her hands firmly planted on her hips.

"Now I know I am not going to like this! Heath is running for cover."

"Honey, it's not anything bad. Tipper is quite happy actually. Ya see, you know how Tipper is kind of particular about who he lets ride him, and well with us gone for four weeks, he certainly needed his exercise, and you remember those brood mares we got some time ago..."

Laura grabs Nick's shirt collar forcefully, "You put him out to STUD?! Without asking me first?!" Her eyes glaring with murderous intent.

"Now take it easy! He's a stallion and you know that's the purpose of a stallion." He gently pushes his enraged wife away at arms length.

"I know what stallions are for! I was just hoping to have him a little longer before we put him out to stud! You know what that does to a stallion! He'll never be the same! He'll probably won't let me ride him anymore after that!"

"Well, now, you never know.. he might," he attempts to console her.

"You've ruined my horse! And you didn't even discuss it with me! HOW COULD YOU?! YOU COULD HAVE AT LEAST TOLD ME FIRST! DAMN IT NICK! HE'S MY HORSE!" she turns her back on him, arms folded.

"NOW WAIT JUST A MINUTE HERE! I RUN THIS RANCH; NOT YOU! AND I WILL RUN IT THE WAY I SEE FIT!" He plants his fists firmly on his hips, and furrows his brow angrily. She turns back to face him, matching his anger.

"YOU MAY RUN THIS RANCH NICK BARKLEY, BUT YOU DON'T RUN ME!" she shrieks loudly enough for the entire house to hear.

* * * * *

In the dining room, Jarrod sips his coffee and cocks his ear to the outbursts coming from the foyer. Audra and Victoria pretend not to hear it as they continue their breakfast.

"I do believe that is the sound of our resident lovebirds, cooing!" Jarrod states sarcastically.

Audra giggles, Victoria puts her hand up to silence them.

"Never mind, it's still good to have them home."

"Even if they do sometimes break things." Audra taunts, laughing into her napkin.

"Now we all talked about this at great length before they came home that we would all be respectful of their need to have their privacy. It's not easy being newly married..."

"Especially if you're married to Nick," Audra titters.

"Well now, Laura isn't exactly a docile flower herself," injects Jarrod in defense of his brother.

"It's uncanny, those two are so alike," she muses. Jarrod wrinkles his brow at Audra's comment.

"Yes, one's a stick of dynamite and the other's a fuse," he complains, annoyed with all the shouting disturbing his breakfast so early in the day.

"Excuse me." Victoria rises from her seat.

"Now Mother, you said none of us were to get involved."

"I'm not Jarrod, but there is a crystal dish in the foyer that I am quite fond of." Victoria quietly walks into the foyer, hoping not to be noticed. She avoids watching her son and his wife as they argue. She quickly retrieves the crystal dish, hugging it to her bosom.

"After Tipper has done his job, we can turn him into a gelding and in time he'll be a different horse, gentle as a colt!" Nick argues to his wife.

"I'LL TURN YOU INTO A GELDING!" Laura shouts shaking her fists into the air. Victoria winces at the thought, as she can't help but watch them bicker back and forth.

"IS THAT ANY WAY TO TALK TO YOUR HUSBAND?!" Nick bellowed, furious that she dared to say such a thing to him.

"YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO TAKE MY HORSE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!"

"YOUR PERMISSION?!! Your horse is on THIS ranch and he is wearing the Barkley brand, which means I decide what happens to him! I DON'T NEED YOUR PERMISSION!" Nick makes each point with his index finger.

"Well, there's no Barkley brand on my backside so you can't tell me what to do!"

"OH REALLY?!" Nick grabs Laura's left hand angrily and lifts it high in the air, pointing to her wedding ring.

"RIGHT THERE! THAT'S THE BARKLEY BRAND! NICK BARKLEY'S PERSONAL STOCK!"

Victoria shuts her eyes shaking her head, "Aw Nick..," she mutters under her breath.

Laura takes her free right hand, balls it up into a fist and slams it into Nick's stomach. He quickly lets go of her hand, grabbing at the pain in his gut.

"DON'T YOU EVER REFER TO ME AS YOUR PERSONAL PROPERTY! EVER!" she wails. Turning on her boots she storms out of the house, letting the door slam behind her. Nick holds onto the table to steady himself, he notices his mother staring at him.

"You don't ...argh ... have to say it.. argh...I know..., I' m stupid!" he grimaces in pain. Victoria shakes her head and walks away not saying a word. Nick stands, but not without some effort on his part. Steadying himself, he grabs his hat and heads out the door.

* * * * *

In the barn Heath has saddled a mare for Laura to ride, and is somewhat taken aback when Laura bursts into the barn; her blonde hair flying out in wild tentacles under her hat.

"I've got this here mare for you to ride Laura, her name's Dancer, all saddled for you," he attempts to calm her with his tone of voice.

"Thank you Heath." Heath notices tears filling her eyes as he offers her the reins.

"You okay?"

"Yes, fine." she whimpers.

"Don't look fine to me."

"I need to get out for a while, thank you for saddling the horse." Heath moves to help her on the horse.

"I don't need anyone's help!" She pushes his hand away.

"All right then, just be careful, don't ride her too hard, she's not like Tipper."

"I'm well aware of that!" she remarks scornfully as she mounts and rides out of the barn. Seeing Nick outside, she intentionally rides quickly by him, causing him to back away.

"GO EASY WITH THAT MARE!" he shouts. Heath joins Nick outside, as they watch Laura speed off.

"She talk to you?" Nick asks, watching his wife gallop angrily away.

"A little." Heath scratches his cheek, looking down at the ground.

"Seem angry to you?"

"The sky blue?" he cracks.

"She'll get over it." he frowns.

"Hope she does for your sake, the bunkhouse isn't all that comfortable for sleeping." Nick shoots him a fierce look, when he notices Tommy Jenkins Barkley near the smithy shop.

"What's that kid doing still here?! He's suppose to be in Boston!" he glares.

"Well you know what YOU say about horses and women." Heath taunts.

"What?"

"Got himself a woman, girl more like it."

"Him? Who? Where? He's too young for a woman!" Nick scowls.

"You didn't think so when you brought him over to that saloon girl." Heath quips.

"What saloon girl?! I never brought him over to no saloon girl!" he protests.

"The name Lottie sound familiar to you?"

"Aw damn!" Nick snaps, remembering the night before his wedding when he and Laura had that awful row about Tommy.

"The kid said you even paid for his first time. I betcha one proud papa now, huh Nick?!" Heath couldn't resist scoffing at him.

"DAMN KID!!" Nick marches over to young Tommy near the smithy. Tommy smiles when he sees Nick approach.

"Hi Nick! Welcome home. How was your...." Before he can finish his greeting, Nick grabs him by the shirt collar, almost lifting him up off the ground.

"What the hell did I tell ya kid?! What did ya do with that ticket I bought you?!"

"I still have it Nick! Honest!" The boy chokes out, still being held in Nick's powerful grip.

"Good! Use it! Now pack up and get the hell off this ranch!" He releases the grip on his shirt collar and turns away.

"NO!" defies Tommy. Stopping in his tracks Nick turns, his eyes becoming black slits as his face darkens.

"Did I hear you right kid?! Did you just say NO to me?!" Nick's anger rising again, after having had enough people protesting his orders for one day.

"Yes Sir, I said no!" Nick storms back towards the boy, who winces at the possibility of being hit.

"YOU'RE LEAVING TODAY!" With each word, Nick jabs his finger in Tommy's chest. Tommy musters up all his courage, and squaring his jaw, glares back at Nick.

'I'M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT LOTTIE!"

"LOTTIE?! That saloon girl you been seeing?"

"THAT'S RIGHT!"

"Kid, she's no woman for you!"

"How would you know?! I love her and she loves me!" Nick balls up his fists and plants them on his hips.

"She loves you because she's paid to love you Kid! WAKE UP!" Tommy rears back and slams Nick with a right cross in his jaw, sending him to the ground. The boy storms off toward the bunkhouse.

Jarrod, having just left the house, stands above Nick with a sly smile on his face. "Ahh Nick, I see you are honing your parenting skills. Good job."

Still sitting on the ground, he rubs his jaw, looking up at his brother. "Why the hell didn't you make sure he got on that train?!"

"And interfere with young love? Not a chance; that's your job Daddy!" Jarrod laughs loudly as he advances to the barn. Heath rejoins Nick, offering a hand up. Nick takes it, pulling himself up from the ground.

"Kid packs a pretty good wallop. Where do you suppose he learned that?" He continues to rub his jaw.

"Well, since you taught the kid about women, I thought I would teach him how to defend himself, since he's spending so much time in saloons these days."

"There's such a thing as too much education, UNCLE HEATH!" Nick storms into the barn. Heath smirks as he follows him.

Part 4

On Jarrod's way to town he comes upon his sister-in-law sitting forlornly by the side of the road on the ground, with her horse grazing at the grass, beside her.

"Well, good day Mrs. Barkley." Jarrod pushes his hat back on his head, as an amused smile spreads across his face.

"Good day, Mr. Barkley," she answers glumly with eyes downcast, she pulls bits of grass from the ground, twirling the strands around her fingers.

"If you don't mind me asking, is there some reason you're sitting on the side of the road?" he queries, leaning on his saddlehorn.

"Yes, this is where I landed," she replies, pulling more strands from the earth.

"You fell off your horse?! YOU?" he asked astonished.

"It happens." her dour mood revealed, as she begins to feed some of the grass to the horse.

"Granted, but not to you." He dismounts.

"Lots of things have happened to me that have never happened before." she chokes, quickly wiping away new tears, with a gloved hand, trying to hide them from her brother-in-law.

"Your life is no longer a postponement for you, is it?" he reminds her of an earlier conversation they had once. Kneeling on one knee, he kindly offers his handkerchief.

"No, now it's running amuck!" refusing the offered cloth, with a shake of her head.

"Oh come now, it can't be that bad," he stifles a laugh, pushing the handkerchief unceremoniously back into his breast pocket. She shrugs her shoulders sadly, pulling up more grass.

"Does this have something to do with what happened in Sacramento?" he presses, more than curious since that desperate telegram arrived asking for bail money from Nick no less, for his wife. He was more than disappointed he couldn't get any information out of Nick, who just shrugged it off and told him to ask Laura instead, as Nick had promised his wife he would never tell anyone what really happened to them there.

"Why don't you ask your brother?" she finally looks into his blue eyes.

"I thought I would ask you instead. Since it seemed to have centered around you." His lawyer skills attempting to pull out more information then the witness is willing to give.

"Our whole honeymoon was a disaster, and it was all my fault. Nick couldn't wait to get home!" She sniffles, brushing her tears aside with her hand, looking away again.

"Now, I'm sure it wasn't all that bad. Who's idea was it to go to Indian Springs?"

"It was mine, I did it for Nick, he was so miserable. He hated every minute of our honeymoon in Sacramento."

"Certainly he didn't hate all of it."

"Well, he hated three quarters of it anyway." She aimlessly throws the grass in front of her, some of the strands carelessly landing on her split skirt.

"I still tend to doubt that. Was Indian Springs any better than Sacramento?" He shifts his weight to the other knee. Still hoping to get more information as to what happened there.

"It was wonderful! The two of us, all alone. Nick was in his element, being outside."

"And you?"

"Nick was happy, so I was happy. That's all that mattered."

"Are you going to tell me what happened in Sacramento?" The attorney's inquisitiveness getting the best of him.

"No," she answers with a determined tone.

"Very well then." Jarrod surrenders disappointed, lifting himself up.

"Can I help you up from there?" He reaches out with his hand.

She takes his offered hand, swatting at the grass on her skirt with the other.

"I'm heading into town. Do you want to come with me?" Maybe a leisurely ride with him will loosen her tongue, he hoped.

"No, thank you. I think I'll just go home and busy myself there."

"That sounds like a good idea. Nick will be home soon enough for lunch."

"Doesn't matter, I'm not speaking to him," she resolves.

"I see. Well, I do hope you have a lovely day despite it all." he tightens his lips, determined to find the truth about Sacramento eventually.

"Thank you."

They each mount their respective horses. Jarrod watches as she quickly gallops off, with a seemingly new determination in her canter. He spurs on his own horse to a trot, remembering a morning appointment.

* * * * *

At the ranch Laura brings her horse back into its stall when she hears a familiar voice.

"I'll be glad to help you put your mare away Missus."

"Tommy, what are you doing here? You were suppose to be back in Boston."

"I decided to stay on." He pulls off her horse's saddle and pad.

"Does Nick know?"

"Yes ma'am, and he's none to happy about it either." He hangs the saddle on it's bench.

"Why not?" She pulls off her gloves and lets her hat fall to her back, an amused smile on her face, enjoying the knowledge of her husband's anger towards the boy, and giving Nick more problems to deal with on his beloved ranch.

"I suspect he doesn't want me around is all." He stares at the ground, crestfallen, kicking up some hay with his foot.

"Doesn't your family back home miss you?"

"Yeah but, I made a life for myself here."

"How so?" Her interest piqued.

"Met this girl."

"Ohh, I see. That would explain it. Did you tell Nick about the girl?"

"Yes ma'am, he's really mad about it." Still not looking up.

"Because he thinks you're too young?"

"That and she works in a saloon." His eyes meet hers.

"Oh, I see how that would pose a problem for him." She grins.

"She's as pretty as all get out Mrs. Barkley, I wish you could see her! We really care for each other. I've been putting money aside to get married." He brightens up, a wide grin crossing his face.

"Married?! Goodness, it is serious. Did you tell Nick you wanted to marry the girl?"

"No ma'am," he shakes his head sadly.

"It might be best that you don't. He may blow the roof off the house."

"That's what Heath said." He scratches the back of his neck.

"Heath's right. Come inside with me, I think Silas has some lemonade. It's an awfully hot day. Reminds me of my home in Arizona." She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. Tommy follows Laura in the house. Silas greets them at the back door.

"Mrs. Nick, did ya have a nice ride?"

"Fine Silas, do you have any lemonade?"

"Yes ma'am, made it for lunch." Laura gets out two glasses from the cupboard. Silas brings over the pitcher of lemonade.

"Mmm, thank you Silas. I'll pour it. Where's Mrs. Barkley?"

"Mrs. Barkley went into town, she had a meeting with the school board. Miss Audra went to the orphanage to talk to Father Sanchez about the fund raiser for the Harvest Festival."

"Ah, the Harvest Festival. This will be my first one. I will have to speak to Audra about it."

"You didn't go to the one last year?" asks Tommy as he takes the filled glass from her hand, following her into the parlor.

"No, I wasn't here, still in San Francisco at the time. I didn't come out here until the early part of May." She places her glass on the table, after taking a cooling sip. Tommy counts on his fingers, as he seats himself down on the settee.

"You mean you only knew Nick three months before you married him?" He says, surprised.

"Yes, I guess it was only three months. Humm, seems longer sometimes. A lot happened in those three months." Her mind drifts to the shooting death of her father at her own hands and then Johnny Ray and how he died. She rubs her shoulders as a chill suddenly comes over her. Tommy's voice interrupts her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"So then you believe in love at first sight then, don't you? Was that how it was for you and Nick, love at first sight? It must have been if you married only three months after you met."

"My goodness Tommy, you ask a lot of personal questions."

"Sorry, don't mean to." He looks down at his drink. She smiles.

"You're right, I fell in love with him the day I met him, I just didn't realize it that first day, but I knew I just had to have him in my life the next time I saw him, right here in fact. The Barkleys invited my father and I to a Sunday dinner, and I knew that day, I wanted to marry him." She says pensively. Her thoughts drift off to that day. She recalls how Nick spilled water all over the lace tablecloth, while he stared at her. She laughs to herself.

"That's how it was for me and Lottie."

"Who?"

"Lottie, my girl."

"Oh yes. So tell me how did you meet Lottie?" She forces herself to focus on the young man's conversation.

"Miss Belle introduced us."

"Belle?! And how did you meet the infamous Belle Blakesen?"

"Nick introduced us at the Cattlemen's Club."

"The Cattlemen's Club. When was this?" She latches on to his every word.

"The day before your wedding."

"WHAT?! He went to see Belle the day before our wedding!! Why that...!!" Laura jumps up from her chair. Tommy gets up from his seat almost spilling the lemonade on the carpet.

"NO, Missus! It was nothing like that! HONEST! Nick took me to the Cattlemen's Club for dinner and Miss Belle was there with a friend."

"A friend? Not Nick?" She breathes easier, her demeanor relieved, she sits down again.

"No ma'am, not Nick. He wasn't too happy when Miss Belle joined us, I think he was afraid word would get back to you and he didn't want to upset you anymore then you already were."

"Wise man! Alright Tommy Jenkins Barkley, I want you to tell me everything that happened, and don't leave anything out!" she warns him.

"Everything?" Tommy gulps. She nods affirmatively.

"If you want me to help you with Nick, you will be wise to tell me EVERYTHING!" Tommy proceeds to tell Nick's wife everything that happened the day before the wedding, including Nick paying for Tommy's tryst with the young Lottie.

After he finishes his tale, she escorts him out the door and walks into the library. She finds Silas dusting Jarrod's law books.

"Mrs. Nick, is there anything I can get for you?" He stops his work.

"No thank you Silas, I'm fine. Are these ALL of Jarrod's law books?" She moves behind the huge oak desk, moving her finger over the spines of the books, reading the contents.

"Yes ma'am, but he does have a set in his office in Stockton."

"Are these fairly current, the ones about California State laws I mean?" She finds a heavy leather bound book, marked Dac - Doc. Silas points to a book on Jarrod's desk.

"Those are the revised laws for those books. Mr. Jarrod uses that a lot, that's why he keeps it on his desk. Ya'll put that back in it's proper place? Mr. Jarrod is very particular about his books being put back in their rightful place." Silas says a little distressed.

Laura sits at Jarrod's desk with a book taken from the shelf.

"Mr. Jarrod won't even know I was in here. Is there any paper I can write on?" Laura tries to assuage Silas.

"In top right drawer, Mr. Jarrod keeps his legal pads there."

"You don't suppose he'll mind if I write on it?"

"Oh everyone uses it, he won't mind, just so long as ya put everything in their proper place."

"I promise I will Silas."

She opens the huge book to a page marked Divorce Laws. As she reads it, she begins to take notes, then she looks into the revised book to see the changes. Silas dusts the shelves behind her, trying to peek over her shoulder; his eyes widen when he sees the word Divorce Laws. She reads out loud to herself forgetting anyone is in the room.

"A spouse may pay alimony should he choose to... Alimony? What's that? Never heard of it."

She checks the glossary for a the definition. Silas moves about the room dusting, as he watches her intently.

"Alimony: court ordered allowance, divorce settlement. Hmmm. That's new, but I wonder if...This is strange, it says that if a husband or court chooses to award alimony. That's so unfair! A woman doesn't have a choice in the matter!" She writes notes down on the pad furiously. Silas watches her as the pen flies across the paper. He clucks to himself, as he continues dusting. She stops muttering to herself, when she realizes she is not alone. She watches Silas dust a statute of a bucking horse. He averts his eyes, when he notices her staring at him.

"Something wrong Silas?" Embarrassed by him hearing her talking to herself.

"No ma'am, nothing at all. Do ya need anything? Can I bring ya something?"

"No thank you Silas, I'm fine."

"Are ya sure I can't get ya a coffee or lemonade?"

"No thank you Silas. Is there something bothering you Silas?"

"No Ma'am how about you?" He instantly regrets having been so bold as to ask the question.

"No. Nothing is bothering me, but you seem to be bothered by something. You have been dusting that statute for some time."

"Ohh, sorry I didn't .. Mrs. Nick are ya sure y' all right?" He stops dusting, holding the feather duster to his chest, looking quite concerned. Laura sighs.

"Silas, do you really have to call me....I mean, wouldn't calling me Laura be sufficient?"

"Oh no ma'am, that wouldn't be respectful! It just wouldn't be seemly! You are Mr. Nick's wife after all...... for the time being leastways." He says the last few words under his breathe, turning away from her stare.

"What did you say Silas?"

"Oh nothing, I'm going to check on lunch, excuse me." He makes a quick exit.

"Yes Silas." She wonders at his odd behavior. "Mrs. Nick! Sounds like I'm his damn possession! Can't win, no matter what I do!" She grouses. She continues reading about California divorce laws, writing out notes on a legal pad. She reads out loud as she writes her notes.

"In the case of divorce it is the husband's obligation to provide for his children's' welfare and education. This being the case, children must be protected from condition of poverty, therefore it is the husband's legal duties to care for all aspects of his children, as he sees fit....What about his duty to his wife?...Good God! This is archaic thinking! A woman has no rights at all to her children, that woman in Sacramento was right!"

After a while she becomes quite tired reading all the fine print; yawning, she puts the book away on the shelf, fixes Jarrod's desk just as he had it. She hurriedly folds the used papers she wrote on, shoving them into her pockets, making them bulge; then climbs the stairs to her bedroom. Careful to close the door securely behind her. She moves to the bottom drawer of her vanity bureau, kneeling on the floor. She pulls out a red clothed covered box, where she keeps her love letters from her husband and guardedly places the legal pad papers inside. Once she's assured that the box is safe from prying eyes, she readies herself for a nap. She sits on the bed, pulling off her boots and slides her belt from the skirt loops. She pulls a coverlet from the bottom of the bed and drapes it over her, quickly falling asleep.

* * * * *

"MOTHER! LAURA! WHERE IS EVERYBODY?!" Nick makes his usual boisterous entrance.

"In the dining room, Nick," his mother calls out. Nick trods in with Heath trailing. Nick gives his mother a peck on her offered cheek; Heath does the same.

"Where's my wife?" He sits in his chair, seizing his napkin.

"Silas said she went upstairs, I think she's resting," Victoria replies.

"Well, I'll go upstairs and see if she'll come down for lunch." He throws his napkin back down on the table as he rises from his chair.

"I don't know, Silas said she was quite tired. I do hope she's well, she is well isn't she Nick?"

"Sure seem healthy enough when she punched him in the stomach this morning," Heath says mischievously grinning. Victoria eyes Heath to stop taunting his brother.

"Why don't you shut up!" Nick reprimands his younger brother, then bolts up the stairs.

* * * * *

In the bedroom he shares with his bride, he finds her sleeping restfully, a smile on her face. He tenderly watches his sleeping beauty.

"Nothing prettier in the world than watching Milady sleep." He moves to kiss her cheek, she stirs a little still in a deep sleep.

"Sean..." she says, softly dreaming.

"Sean, who's Sean? Laura? Who's this Sean you're dreaming about? Hey?!" He shakes her.

"Let's climb up.... It's so pretty here," she continues softly in her dream.

"HEY, WAKE UP!" His voice rises.

"Huh, what's wrong?" Laura's eyes flutter open at his resounding voice.

"You were talking in your sleep."

"What time is it?" She sits up, stretching her arms out with a waking yawn.

"Lunch time. Are you coming down?!" still annoyed with her dreaming of another man.

She swings her legs over the bed, her mind recalls all the events that happened that day as she pulls on her boots. She remembers how angry she was with him, and the new found fact about what happened with Tommy and his first meeting with Lottie.

"Who's Sean?" Nick pushes her. She grabs her belt, sliding it through the loops. She walks pass him, without saying a word. At the mirror, she smoothes out her hair, and straightens out her skirt. She spies Nick's reflection in the mirror, receiving satisfaction from watching his face lay bear his jealousy.

"Did you hear me? Who's Sean?!" His voice beginning to rise. She leaves the bedroom without saying a word to him, a smug look on her face.

"ANSWER ME! Who's this Sean?" He follows her downstairs, determined to get her to answer his question. She hurries into the dining room, knowing full well he won't pursuit the question in front of his family.

* * * * *

"Did you rest well Laura?" poses Victoria as her daughter-in-law enters. Laura seats herself, placing the napkin on her lap. Nick drops angrily in the chair between them. Laura grins, happy that Nick is angry, but must control his anger in front of his family.

"Yes, thank you. How was your school board meeting?"

"Oh very productive, Mr. Walsh is finally going to let go of the purse strings and buy new books for the children. The history books are so old, they don't even cover the Civil War."

"Really? Well, that will be good for the students. A new teacher and new history books. How is she working out by the way?"

"I think she's going to work out wonderfully, but you know some of the board members, can't seem to recover from the fact, that she's a woman."

"Pretty one at that," Heath offers smiling.

"Oh have you seen her Heath?" Laura asks, smiling back at the blond cowboy, happy to ignore Nick's presence in the bargain.

"Yeah, I saw her. A little bit of a thing; not much taller than the kids she teaches."

"Jarrod's is really sweet on her." Audra says with a dimpled smile.

"Really? What is she like? Jarrod's really is sweet on her? He never said a word." Laura relishes this new information about her stately brother-in-law, taken by a woman in his life finally.

"Women have no business doing a man's job!" Nick interrupts, as he chews on a piece of bread. Silas pours coffee for everyone at the table BUT Nick. He watches Silas walk away leaving the coffee pot in front of him to pour for himself.

"What's with him?"

"What do you mean Nicholas?" asks his mother.

"I just got ignored. Didn't you see that?! He poured coffee for everyone else but me."

"Well, you're just charming everyone today Nick," jokes Heath.

"Yeah, apparently." Nick stares at his wife, who continues to ignore him, as she sips her coffee, a sly wink at her brother-in-law, who gives her a crooked grin in return.

"Exactly what is an appropriate job for a woman?" asks Laura, eyes averted from him.

"Are you speaking to me? Finally?!" Nick points to himself with a piece of bread still in his hand.

"Yes, I'm curious to know what you think." She plays with the food on her plate.

"Well, now that you asked, a good job for a woman is a wife and rearing children," he proposes.

"Ah, and what if she's not married?" She asks, feigning disinterest.

"A dressmaker's good, a secretary, like Jarrod's, a waitress."

"A waitress like Belle and Lottie you mean?" She glances over to catch him off guard.

"Yeah, I mean no, I didn't mean them. How did you know about Lottie?"

"Spoke to your 'stepson'. He told me all about her." She continues eating, watching him slyly, from the corner of her eye.

"Did he?" trying to sound matter-of-fact.

"Ah huh...everything. In fact, he didn't leave anything out." She shoots him a cold, piercing

look, as her anger begins to show on her face. A quiet pall covers the room.

Heath shakes his head, hinting to Nick that he got caught in a trap of his own making again. Nick glares at Heath.

"I'm going to get that kid back to Boston if I have to take him there myself! Excuse me!"

Nick gets up from the table, throwing his napkin down; Laura also rises from the table and follows Nick out after she excuses herself.

"Nick!" He stops to face her.

"What?!" Hands placed firmly on hips.

"You can't just force him to go back home."

"Oh yeah? Just watch me!" He jabs the air with his finger.

"NICK PLEASE! You can't do this! The boy thinks he's in love with her, he wants to marry her."

"He's not thinking with his head. This girl is no good for him. ...MARRY HER?!!" his brow wrinkling in surprise.

"Why not Nick?"

"You know very well why not! She a whore!"

"Like Belle?"

"You're not going to start that again are you?"

"The only reason she is a saloon girl is she hasn't any education for anything else!"

"That's not my problem!" he waves his hand in the air, then turns on his heels.

"I don't agree. It is your problem. It's everyone's problem!" She follows him closely, matching his step.

"What are you talking about? You're not making any sense." He faces her again.

"Never mind, you wouldn't understand. Let me talk to this girl."

"You?! Why on earth do you think I would let you do that?!"

"Because, I can find out if she is sincere about Tommy."

"Sincere about what?! Getting married? Sure why not, she'll marry him, take him for everything he's got then leave him! She's nothing but a gold digger!"

"Gold Digger?! How can you call her a gold digger? What does Tommy have that she could want?"

"The Barkley name of course!"

"Ah yes, I forgot the almighty, all powerful Barkley name!" She presses her hands firmly on her hips.

"THAT'S RIGHT!" he snaps.

"The Barkley brand is it?!!"

"Now you're not going to start that argument again?!"

"Start it? We didn't finish it!" She squints her eyes angrily at him.

"Okay, I'm sorry I said those things, I didn't mean it the way it came out. I just meant you're my woman."

"You don't really think that statement is going to appease me do you?!"

"You're my woman, I'm your man! We're one, like the preacher said, one flesh. We belong to each other, we are of one union!" he quotes.

"Well, half of this union is going off half cocked!" She turns her back on him, her arms folded crossly at her chest.

"What do you want me to do? I can't let this girl pull the wool over the kid's eyes!"

"I want to talk to this girl." She faces him again.

"NO! YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER! You stay out of that saloon! I don't want you anywhere near it! No wife of mine is going into a saloon!"

"You brought me there before!"

"You weren't my wife then!"

"Tell you what, let Tommy bring the girl here, then we can both talk to her," she attempts to reason with her husband.

"Bring her here?! In my house?!"

"There you go with that possessiveness again. Everything is yours! The house, the ranch, the horses everything belongs to Nick Barkley!"

"It's not just mine, it's the family's."

"The Family, yes, the Barkley family. Everything belongs to the Barkleys, even me, for as long as you want me around that is!!"

"Now, where did that come from?! What are you talking about?!"

"Excuse me, I'm tired, I'm going upstairs and lie down."

"What going on with you, are you sick?! YOU JUST HAD A DAMN NAP!"

"The only thing I'm sick of, is arguing with a pig-headed BARKLEY!?" She turns on her heels and heads up the stairs.

He calls out to her, "YOU'RE A BARKLEY TOO AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT! By the way, you never did tell me who this Sean fellar was?" Nick storms back into the dining room, looking around for Heath.

"Where's Heath?!"

"In the kitchen," says his mother sipping coffee. Nick walks into the kitchen where he spies Silas talking to Heath. Silas stops when Nick enters. He moves towards the kitchen sink. Nick keeps a wary eye on Silas.

"Just what in blazes is going on here?!"

"We need to talk, outside, come on." Heath motions him outside with his arm.

Nick follows Heath outside, and stops just short of the herb garden, his hands on his hips impatiently waiting for Heath to speak.

"Well?!"

"Silas is upset."

"Well, I figured that."

"He saw Laura in the library looking through Jarrod's law books."

"So? What's wrong with that?"

"Silas said she was looking up California Divorce Laws."

"WHAT?!"

"That's what he said."

"Is that why he's upset? Hell, her looking at that don't mean a thing. Maybe she was just curious is all."

"Why would a new bride be curious about divorce laws Nick?" Heath leans his face closer to Nick in an effort to get him to think carefully about it.

"It's nothin', I'm sure of it!" Nick waves his arm as he walks off frowning, tramping loudly across the yard.

Part 5

Hope looked out the window again at her students playing. She hated to bring the children in, but starting class late on the first day would never do. Sighing, she picked up her bell, stepped onto the outside stairs, and rang it. Jump ropes dropped, boys stopped playing ball, and all the children came running to the door.

“Alright, go in nicely, children. No need to rush; you have plenty of time. In you go.”

Hope followed the last student in and proceeded to the front of the classroom. She leaned against the front of her desk.

* * * * *

Laura rode Dancer into Stockton. Riding through the edge of town a sound of a school bell ringing, beckons her to stop and watch the children end their play and file into the school. She sees a petite woman with dark brown hair ringing the school bell, although she can't see her face, the teacher's stature reminds Laura of her own mother calling her in from play. She watches as the last of the children hasten into the school. "Maybe one day, I will watch my own child run into the school like that." She smiles at the thought, sighing, "Someday."

She rides on, until she comes to the ladies apparel shop, and tethers her horse to a post. Mrs. Murphy, the boarding house owner, greets Laura.

"Aye, if 't' isn't da y'ungar Missus Barkley. Congratulations on yer marriage, me dearie."

"Thank you Mrs. Murphy."

"And how's dat fine y'ung man, treatin' yer well is he? He's a fine catch dat y'ung man ah yers."

"Yes, so he keeps telling me. Good day Mrs. Murphy." Laura nods her head as she rushes away, fearing she will probably hear gossip about the old woman's boarders if she lingers any longer.

* * * * *

“Welcome to the first day of school. I am Miss Dougherty, your new teacher." She wrote her name on the board. “There it is for those of you who can read, and for those who can’t, you will soon, so don’t worry.

“Well, here’s your only chance to ask questions about me, so if you have a question, stand one at a time, and if I can answer it, I will." After a moment, a boy in one of the middle seats stood. “Yes? Tell me your name and ask your question.”

“Jim Williams. Where are you from?”

“I’m from Boston. Who knows where that is?” A little girl stood. “Yes?”

“In Massatusetts." Hope smiled at the pronunciation.

“And what’s your name?”

“May Robins.”

“Very good, May. Yes, Boston is in Massachusetts. Next question?”

“How tall are you?” asked a boy who looked to be an ever-growing twelve-year-old.

“Not very." The class giggled. “Yes?”

“Why’d ya come here?”

“I’ve wanted to come west for a long time, and I want to teach. Mrs. Barkley put an advertisement in the newspaper back home, asking for a teacher, I wrote back, and she chose me, and here I am.”

“What’s it like in Boston?”

“It’s very pretty. Boston is a city, you know--”

“Like San Francisco?”

“Yes, but older. Boston was founded in the 17th century. It’s right near the Atlantic Ocean.”

“Do ya like the ocean?”

“I love it. It’s beautiful. Do you know, I used to live in a lighthouse right on the ocean?”

“Whatsa, a lighthouse?” came a small voice from the front bench.

“A lighthouse is a tower attached to a house that stays near the ocean to warn the ships of rocks and to help them get home. This is the one I used to live in." She took chalk and drew her old home.

“You’re a good draw-er,” said a little girl.

“Thank you very much,” Hope said with a pleasant smile. “Anything else?”

“Do you give homework?” The class laughed again, this time at the antics of an older boy.

“Now, what kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t? We had special classes on that in college: teachers must always give homework. But they didn’t say anything about giving less homework when the class is well behaved. Anymore questions?” A few heads shook, and the class remained silent. “Alright, then. Open your readers. You new children, go to page one. Everyone else, I’ll go around and assign pages separately for each grade.”

* * * * *

Laura moved briskly down the street, until she came to the Stockton Saloon. She stops for a second, searching for prying eyes witnessing her bold entrance through the swinging saloon doors. She advances brazenly to the bar, ignoring the stares of the few men that are there, with her head held high. Milt, the bartender, furrows his brow with trepidation, when he sees her standing before him at the bar.

"Now Mrs. Barkley, Nick's not here, I haven't seen him in a month of Sundays. I swear it."

"Did I ask you that? I want to speak to Belle Blakesen, Now please." She charges, with a slap on the bar with a gloved hand.

"Now see here Missus, I don't want no trouble, the last time you were here..." Milt warns the pretty blonde woman.

"I'm not looking for trouble, I came to see Belle Blakesen. Now!" she interrupts him with a forceful tone.

Milt heard tales of Nick Barkley's wife having a temper to match her husband's, and he certainly didn't desire a confrontation with her anymore than he would him.

"BELLE! SOMEONE HERE TO SEE YA!!!" the bartender yells out. Belle saunters over to Laura, standing at the bar.

"Well, well, if it isn't the little woman. Come to get a few pointers? Nick bored with you all ready?" Laura sighs impatiently at the exasperating saloon hostess.

"Can we call a truce? I need to talk to you."

"Time is money honey," she sneers.

"How much?"

"Ten." Laura pulls a ten dollar bill out of her skirt pocket. Belle snatches the cash, placing it safely in the bodice of her dress.

"What do you want to talk about, and make it snappy I got someone waitin'."

"I'll try not to take up your valuable time," she replies sarcastically. " Can we sit someplace?"

They move to a table near the stairs, Belle grabs a bottle and two glasses from Milt after giving him a wink. She pulls the cork out, and pours a drink for her former rival. She is intrigued by Nick's woman, who would walk into a place like this. She can almost understand why Nick would choose to marry her. Belle pushes the glass in front of Laura, in a gesture that would suggest a challenge to drink with her. Laura takes up the challenge, with a not too dainty gulp of the hard whiskey, refusing to grimace at the foul taste. Belle gives her a sly grin.

"Okay, spill. Whaddya want?"

One of your charges has designs on young Tommy Jenkins Barkley."

"Oh, Nick's son you mean?" She smirks, unwilling to let a gibe go by.

"Nick's step son," she corrects her, "I believe the girl's name is Lottie?"

"Yep, that's the name she goes by. Whadda 'bout her?"

"I want to know if she's serious about the boy. He seems to think that she wants to marry him."

"Gee I don't know why anyone would want to give up the glamorous life of a saloon hostess to marry some dirt farmer, do you?" she snaps bitterly.

"I need a straight answer. Nick is concerned for the boy."

"Why? Is he afraid the kid's gonna marry beneath him? She's not good enough for him, is that it?" she says scornfully.

"Well, is she?" Laura challenges the woman.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?"

"Get her, and I will!" She begins to lose her patience with the saloon girl, as her voice rises.

"Itta'l cost ya."

"I can pay it. Get her!" Her voice rises yet another octave. Belle lifts herself slowly from the table, as she attempts to exasperate the blonde woman a little more. Laura notices the men staring at her, she smirks at them; taking an unlady-like gulp of her drink by throwing her head back, draining the glass, then wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. The men avert their eyes from her.

Belle arrives shortly with the young girl in tow. Laura is taken aback by how very young she is. The girl's unruly, auburn hair, framing a round face. Laura could see why men would like this still innocent looking girl, with a childlike face, but with sad, soft brown eyes that told a different tale of a life, no child should be subject to. Belle begins introductions.

"This is Lottie. This is an old acquaintance of mine, name's Laura Barkley, she and I have a lot in common, namely her husband," Belle chuckles leaving them alone. Laura ignores Belle's remark with a wave of her hand for her to leave them.

"Won't you sit down Lottie? I would like to talk to you."

"What about?" The young girl asks warily, perching herself across from the blonde woman.

"Tommy Jenkins Barkley."

"Oh, I figured one of you Barkleys would be coming by to shoo me off him."

"Is that what you want us to do?"

"Look I don't mean him no harm, he's a nice enough boy, and all..."

"Well, I'm just going to ask straight out. Do you realize he wants to marry you?"

"Yeah, and what's wrong with that if it'll get me outta here."

"Marriage is not an escape from life. You can't marry someone just because you don't like the life you chose for yourself."

"Ya think I chose this kind of life? Hell, this is no life for anyone, beggin' your pardon. Dirty, smelly men gettin' their paws all over ya like yer some kind of meat!"

"Then why?" She asks with genuine concern.

"It was still better than the life I had. My maw turned me out when I was ten; had to steal to feed myself then a man picked me up and well, no need to give a delicate person like yerself all the gory details."

"Did you ever go to school?"

"Never learned no readin' an writin' Missus."

"What if you could learn?"

"I ain't goin' to no school, I'm too old to learn nothin'."

"I don't agree. You can learn. What if I taught you?" Laura offers the young girl.

"YOU? Why would yer want to do that? A fine lady like yerself."

"So you can get out of this life; be somebody you can be proud of."

"I never had any kind of book learnin."

"It's time you did," she smiles at her.

Belle walks over, interrupting the two women.

"I'm guessin' you don't want Nick to find out you're here, do ya?" Belle nods over to the bar.

Laura gasps when she sees her husband standing at the bar, talking to a nervous looking bartender.

"Oh My God! He'll kill me! I can't let him see me here!" she abruptly swoops under the table. An amused Belle, bends over, smiling at the young Mrs. Barkley.

"I can get ya outta here, but itta'l cost ya!"

"Name your price, just get me out of here, fast!" Laura whispers fearfully.

"Thirty bucks." Belle bargains.

"I only have twenty!" she whines.

"Okay, ya got an honest face, I'll trust ya for the rest. Lottie, come over here. Stand aside of me." The two women stand side by side, covering Laura from the sight line of the bar.

"Head up the stairs." Belle orders her.

"Upstairs?" She questions the buxom woman.

"It's the only way out! Now git! Hurry, before he looks over here!"

Laura scoots out from under the table, attempting to make herself as small as possible in front of the shielding women.

At the bar, Milt does his gallant share of protecting them, as he pats Nick on the shoulder, trying to keep him from turning his head around.

"It's good to see ya again Nick, let me buy you a drink." He pours whiskey in a shot glass.

"Well, that's nice of you Milt. What's the occasion?" he wonders, surprised at the unusual gesture.

"Wanna celebrate your marriage." The bartender smiles uneasily, trying to hide his apprehension.

"That's mighty nice of you, never known you to be so generous."

"First time for everything Nick." Nick brings the glass up to his lips.

"I suppose so Milt, to your health." He nods to the bartender. Hearing some noise behind him, he turns to look; Milt suddenly grabs Nick's shoulder again, pouring another fill.

The three women quietly scurry up the stairs, looking back cautiously at the bar. Belle pushes Laura up the stairs with her hands, directing her to turn left towards a room with a pointing finger. Scuffling noises from upstairs causes Nick to nod towards the noise.

"What's going on up there?"

"Oh that's old Ned, celebrating his birthday with the girls," Milt explains trying to hide his agitation. Nick laughs out loud.

"That makes his third birthday this year, don't it? What's that make him now, 103?!"

Milts laughs along with Nick.

"Aw, you know old Ned, he got it in his head to celebrate all the time! Have another drink Nick."

"Got to make it my last. Waiting for my brother to come in."

* * * * *

"In ya go! The outside door is in there!" Belle whispers, giving Laura a strong shove into the room. Laura stumbles in, catching herself from tripping on a chair.

"Well howdy sweetheart! Belle said she was gonna get me somethin' special for my birthday, but I sure didn't expect this!" A toothless old man, dressed in red flannel underwear shuffles over to her, his arms open to greet her with a hug, his lips smacking with drool running down his cheek. She winces at the sight as she backs away from him, the vanity table stopping her escape, perfume bottles and make up boxes tumbling over. She puts her hands out in a stopping gesture, but the old fellow continues his advance.

"Ah listen, I'm NOT your birthday present....I'm a ...happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear...." She stops singing.

"Ned."

"Ned.... Happy Birthday to you!" She eyes the back door to the left of the room and makes a speedy retreat, as the old man begins his pursuit, outstretched arms waving in the air, his lips smacking together in a kiss.

"Many Happy Returns Ned...Bye!" She swiftly descends the stairs outside, stopping short on the middle step when she sees a well known face staring up at her from the ground. She smiles an embarrassed grin.

"Heath," she gulps, finishing her descent slowly then walks over to him.

"Laura?" He pushes his hat back on his head, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"What are you doing in town?" She smiles sweetly at him.

"Might ask you the same thing," he winks, still grinning.

"You might. Well, see you at home. Bye."

She waves at him as she walks pass, but he snags her by the arm, abruptly stopping her.

"Nope. Ain't gonna make it that easy for ya."

"Oh, I wish you would Heath," she begged, looking forlornly, hoping he would take pity on her.

"Nope, can't do it. This is too good to pass up." He smiles impishly.

"Okay. You want an explanation, right?"

"Nope, I don't really care to know what your doing coming out of a..., what's the polite word for it?"

"A brothel?" she suggests.

"Yeah, I'll go along with that," he nods in agreement.

Laura sighs, anxious to leave before anyone else sees her, especially her husband. Heath continues, "I figure my silence is worth, ....a week of raisin bread from your capable hands." he barters, with a crooked grin.

"A week's worth! How am I going to explain baking you raisin bread all week to Nick? You know how jealous he gets!" she protests.

"Maybe you want to explain to Nick how I caught ya sneaking out of a brothel instead?"

"There is a dangerous man lurking under that sweet, angelic face, isn't there?!" She furrows her brow and points a finger at him. He gives her a lopsided grin as his answer. "It's a deal. But one day Heath Barkley, the tables will be turned!" Heath chuckles.

"We'll see. I can taste that bread now." He continues to smile as he strides over to the saloon to meet Nick.

"Men!" She mutters under her breathe, scurrying away.

Part 6

"Mrs. Barkley, did I hear you right? Did you say a half a pound of raisins?" Laura looks over some of the books the proprietor has on his shelves in the General Store.

"I believe I said a pound of raisins Mr. Sweeney. Are these the only type of books you have?"

she answers without looking away from the books.

"Yes Ma'am. You sure must to planning to bake a lot of raisin cookies."

"Blackmail raisin bread actually. I suppose I should make some oatmeal raisin cookies as well to appease Nick," she mutters to herself, flipping through the pages.

"Did you say you wanted a bag of oatmeal too?" asks the storekeeper.

"No, I believe we have enough at home. Mr. Sweeney, do you have any beginner reader books here?"

"No ma'am, the school would have those; wouldn't keep them here. Your order's ready." She looks up inquisitively from the book.

"These really aren't the type of books I'm looking for. Where can I get more contemporary books?"

"Well, the best place here would be the Stockton Eagle."

"Really? Why the newspaper?" she quizzed him.

"Well, they are always getting new books sent to them, by publishers around the country, so that the paper can review them. That's how we get them here in these parts, we order them through the paper. Unless of course you go to some big city book store, like the ones you find in San Francisco or Sacramento." She slams the book shut in her hand and quickly places it back on the shelf. Anxious to begin her quest, she hurries out the door, as if she is being chased, her hair billowing out from under her hat, forgetting her purchases.

"Mrs. Barkley! Wait! Your raisins!" the proprietor calls out.

* * * * *

Sam Gruber, editor of the Stockton Eagle, was never one to turn down a good tip, and he had one right in his hand, courtesy of the Sacramento Clarion, in a little known column of legal court reports, a dry, boring section, for the most part, filled with wills and probates, and petty arrest reports. He congratulated himself for his devout practice in looking over every piece of print that came across his desk. His toothy smile widening with every word he read in the fine print. The bell hanging on the front door to the Eagle office rings out announcing a visitor. Usually Sam doesn't bother to look up from his desk, but a reporter's greeting to a customer catches his keen hearing.

"Good day Mrs. Barkley? May I help you?"

"Yes, please. I was told that the Eagle receives books from publishers for reviews. I was wondering what do you do with books once they've been reviewed?" Sam Gruber, smoothes down his wavy silver hair, and moves quickly, like a hawk, swooping down on his prey to greet the newest member of the Barkley clan.

"Ahh, Mrs. Barkley, how good of you to visit us. You can go back to your work Parker, I'll take care of Mrs. Barkley. May I be of service to you ?" He bows slightly to his visitor. Laura mimics with her own bow towards the gentleman. She takes note of his pasted on smile, as a warning to keep a wary eye on him. Didn't Victoria call this man's scathing editorials, purple prose?

"I was just asking the gentleman here about your book reviews. I had wondered what you did with the books once you've finished your reviews."

"Please, this way and I'll show you, after you." He waves his hand ahead to his office, she moves swiftly in front of him, hoping to conclude her business with him quickly.

"May I?" She asks, pleased by the sight of all the books on the shelf near his desk.

"By all means Mrs. Barkley, help yourself." He smiles furtively as he closes the office door behind him. He is taken by how her hands move over the books, with almost a delicate reverence. Can this woman be the same one he has read about in the papers recently or heard about from the town gossips, he wondered.

"You are very fortunate Mr. Gruber to have so many contemporary books at your fingertips."

"Surely you must have a fine collection at your home?"

"Not many contemporary, mostly classics, poetry, a few new editions of Twain, my brother-in-law Jarrod is quite fond of him."

"You're not, I gather?" the editor asked.

"I find Mr. Twain, a little too adventurous for my taste."

"Really? I would imagine you to be quite adventurous Mrs. Barkley, given your short history here in the valley."

"One cannot always help the circumstances one finds themselves in. That is in the past and I am sure best forgotten."

"Of course, old news." He said amused .

Hoping to conclude her visit quickly, she moves over to his side. "I wondered Mr. Gruber if you would be so kind as to let me borrow a book or two."

"I would do you one better Mrs. Barkley, you may take any book you wish, as many as you wish. They only gather dust here, once my employees write their reviews."

"You are very generous Mr. Gruber, but I couldn't take them all, possibly a select few if you don't mind, for now. I saw several that did caught my eye."

"Please, I insist, help yourself." He waves his hand in an invitation.

"Thank you Mr. Gruber." She gathers several of the smaller books on the shelf, hugging them to her bosom. She walks over to the office door, when Mr. Gruber speaks again.

"Mrs. Barkley, if I may..." She stops before she reaches the door and faces him. "...I came across an interesting tidbit in the Sacramento Clarion just this morning. I understand you and your husband honeymooned there."

"Briefly," she says curtly then continues her advance to the door.

"Perhaps you would be interested in reading it."

"I really must dash Mr. Gruber, I just realized I left my purchases at the general store. Please excuse me." She moves closer to the door.

"I do believe you would be interested in it. Your name is mentioned here." Her hand freezes on the door knob.

"My name? In what context Mr. Gruber? Are you in the habit of reading the society pages of the Clarion? My husband and I did attend the Governor's Ball while we were there."

"Mrs. Barkley, I am in the habit of reading every word that comes into this office. I am the editor after all. However, your name was mentioned in the court reports." He smiled shrewdly.

She turns fully towards him, clutching her books, and smiling knowingly.

"Very well, Mr. Gruber, perhaps we can quit wasting each other's time if you say what is on your mind." Her smile disappears when he flashes his pasted on smile.

"Of course Mrs. Barkley, by all means, if you will permit me to read," he pulls a pair of half glasses from the outside breast pocket of his suit coat,

"Mrs. Laura Barkley pleaded guilty to misdemeanor charges of: causing a riot, resisting arrest, and assaulting a police officer in the performance of his duties. Why Mrs. Barkley, imagine my surprise when I read that. Would you care to elaborate on this report?"

"No, I don't." she says curtly, her head held high in defiance.

"That's unfortunate, my readers will certainly want to know more when I print this, I so hoped you could clarify it for us." A slight threat in his tone, as he cajoles her.

"I wouldn't print that if I were you Mr. Gruber." She walks closer to face him, holding the books in her hand so tightly, her knuckles turn white.

"And why not Mrs. Barkley?"

"Because my husband would not approve of it. He may decide to pummel you."

"I am well aware of Nick Barkley's reputation as a barroom brawler, but surely even he can not condemn me for printing the truth."

"Should you decide to print that, the only truth he will recognize is your dragging his wife's name through the mud. Nick's reputation as a brawler is not without merit, I assure you Mr. Gruber, you don't want to get on his bad side!"

"I will have him arrested for assault." He tries to hide his nervousness. She laughs scornfully at him.

"He hasn't any fear of being arrested. I've seen him fight five men at once and come out the victor. He will make short work of you, of that I have no doubt. So print your truth, but be aware of the consequences. Oh, and I've changed my mind about your generous offer, I will gladly take all the books you have. I will send my husband here tomorrow to collect them; do expect him. Thank you again Mr. Gruber. Good day."

She smiles sweetly, as she opens the door from his office, smartly walking out.

Continued…