by MirandaB
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.
Nick sighed loudly shifting with impatience on the buggy
seat. He clenched the reins before him with a determination to get this chore
over and done. Wasting all this time just for a fool errand Brenna could have
done herself. This was a working ranch! He should be working! He sighed again,
a sigh which didn’t go unnoticed by the other occupant of the buggy. The little
girl folded her hands in the lap of her plaid dress, new for the first day of
school, and tried to be as quiet as possible. Nick groaned inwardly at having
hurt her feelings . . . again.
Concentrating on the reins in his gloved hands, the steady plodding of
Butterscotch, Nick forced his lips into a smile. He made a martyred effort to
appear pleasant. Why was it always so hard to be at ease near her? His own
child?
“It’s not that I don’t wanna drive my daughter to school,” he’d argued earlier
that morning with his wife, Brenna. “I love her. I really do. It’s just . . . ”
Nick sought to explain to his unconvinced wife, hands on her hips and a stern
expression on her face. He finished lamely, “We never seem to have anything to
say to each other. It’s like roping a frisky calf to get her to open her mouth
and put two words together.”
“If you’d just be talkin’ to her, Nick,” she plead. “If you’d just be makin’ an
attempt to get to know her better. Find out what she’s like inside . . . ”
“Nothing like me!” He fumed having been over this road too many times before.
A gentle hand on his arm, “Are you certain of that, love? Can you be naming the
last time you looked at her without disappointment or disapproval showing on
your face? You barely raked your eyes over the picture she drew of a bird’s
nest last week and she was so proud . . . ”
“Drawing! Books! Ruffles and lace! It’s all she ever thinks about. She’s afraid
of horses, Bren! She cries if the wind blows her hair or dirt gets on her
dresses. How’s any of that like me?” He sat down to yank on his boots with a
stubborn resolve to be done with Brenna’s constant harping once and for all.
“I’ve tried to talk to her before. Haven’t I always taken her out with me, just
like the boys? Haven’t I tried to interest her in the ranch . . . ” He stopped
pulling up his boots to point a reminding finger in his wife’s direction,
“which I might add is going to come to her some day, same as it will to Heath
and Jarrod’s kids and our boys, but did she care? No! I said, look girl at all
that cattle, spread as far as your eye can see. That’s money in the bank, a
future for you, a legacy. What did she say?”
Brenna, who’d heard this particular rant of her husband’s a dozen times before
made no effort to stop him saying it again. Might as well try to stop the
thunder from crashing over the hills as Nick when he got worked up. She let the
words roll over her while she bent to make up the bed and fluff the pillows.
“Look, Papa,” he mimicked in a little girl voice, “don’t the clouds make pretty
pictures in the sky? Don’t you wish we could just lie down in the pasture and
look up at them?” Nick stopped to use his own voice, hard and struggling to
understand, “Like I’m fool enough to lie down in grass that’s been crossed over
by a couple of thousand cows. Foolishness! This is a working ranch and the work
don’t get done by looking at clouds.”
“Ah, darlin’,” his lovely Irish wife laughed and came to wrap her arms around
his waist, “why don’t you stop looking at your differences and really look at
how you and the lassie are alike? You might find more in common than you’d
imagine.” Leaning her face against his strong, stubborn back she whispered,
“Would it be hurting you to lie down in the grass and look at the clouds with
your daughter? I can remember we use to be findin’ time for such foolishness
ourselves, love.”
The argument ended as he’d known it would. He’d lost and found himself roped
into another scheme of Brenna’s to bring father and daughter closer together.
Bren never gave up hoping if the two of them spent enough time in one another’s
presence, they’d find some common ground. Nick doubted it.
Nick would never admit to anyone, especially Brenna, but he often wondered how
he’d become the father of such a quiet, dreamy, solemn child. To her credit,
Brenna had blessed him with three fine, strong sons. Brenna had such a hard
time bringing them into the world, Nick bowed to her choice of names every
time. Patrick, Breton and Randall- all fiercely Barkley.
It was different when their daughter arrived, causing as little trouble as
possible. Nick’s heart went out to the dark eyed beauty born with a head of
raven hair. Aura Lee. Brenna fussed, “But, darlin’, it sounds like the name of
one of those girls at Harry’s Gin Palace! Let’s be picking a lovely Irish name
like Kathleen or Mary Ruth.” But Nick remained adamant. He’d always wanted a
daughter just so he could name her Aura Lee.
His daughter. His beautiful little Aura Lee. Even as a baby she’d never given
them a moment’s trouble. When she cried to be fed or changed, it was almost as
if her timid whimpers apologized, “I’m sorry, but I’m hungry. Or wet. Could
someone just comfort me?” Eight years old a week ago and never a bother to
anyone. Except to grieve her father’s heart because they were so opposite one
another.
Nick clucked to hurry the horse a little, smiling ruefully to himself. He and
Brenna often argued over the trouble free passage of Aura Lee’s life, so
different from their rambunctious sons.
“You want the child to be naughty?” Brenna asked, unable to hide the
incredulous tone in her voice. “Disobedient? Rude? Loud? Always getting into
mischief like the boys?”
“No, No,” Nick disagreed unsure how to explain to his wife just what he meant.
“Just if she’d show some spirit once in awhile! It’s not natural for a kid to
be that darned good all the time. Who ever thought I’d have a kid like those
ones they teach you about in Sunday School? The goody, good ones who do
everything right? I got Jarrod for a daughter!”
Nick sighed again. He felt the child beside him stiffen and pull shyly away. It
saddened him he could find no common ground with this strange little girl
beside him. A child who saved her rare smiles or giggles for her Uncle Jarrod who
could share her love of books and poems. Or for her soft spoken Uncle Heath who
taught her the ways of rabbits and birds, the names of the trees and flowers.
Nick tried in vain to have his child love him as she obviously loved her
uncles. When she couldn’t, he felt such intense sorrow he masked the feelings
with gruffness or feigned indifference. If she could just care about some of
the things he loved...like horses.
Her fear of horses perplexed him more than he’d let even Brenna know. The first
time he sat her on Coco, she shrieked in hysterics. Each attempt after that
left father and daughter more at odds. The pony Nick bought for her fifth
birthday grazed now in a pasture, growing fat and sassy while Aura Lee spent
most sunny afternoons with a paint set Jarrod had given her. Nick tried with a
desperation he seldom felt about anything, to instill his love and feeling for
the ranch into her. This was one of his children, his flesh and blood...it was
inconceivable to him that she would not have deep feelings for the land he felt
was a vital part of his being.
The boys, ah, the boys were different. True, Patrick had gone a little beyond
what Nick hoped for him, wanting to raise dairy cattle instead of beef but he
was still a rancher at heart. Randall now, he was a boy who even at ten showed
promise of being a first rate hand around the orchards. And Breton? Breton was
Nick all over again. There wasn’t a horse he couldn’t ride, nor a job he let
defeat him. Nick took pride in knowing that long after he and Heath were gone,
Breton would keep the ranch running as it should be run. Nick had no worries
about his boys. It was only Aura Lee who caused the clenching pain in his
heart. What could he give her if not his deep affection for the Barkley acres?
What legacy could he leave his daughter if she wouldn’t even try to understand
his love of the land?
Nick shook his head sadly. He wished...well, no use wishing for things to be
different. He slapped the reins to hurry the horse along. He had work to do.
Aura Lee tried to sit as quietly as possible. She knew Papa hadn’t wanted to
drive her into school this morning. Usually, because she didn’t ride, one of
her brothers drove her to school in Stockton. This morning, Papa and Mama had
another argument in their room about her and it ended as Aura Lee knew it
would. Mama got her way.
“Himself will be driving you in to school this morning,” Mama always called
Papa “himself” when she talked about him to her children. She’d smiled her
lovely smile, her green eyes twinkling with joy as if Papa just couldn’t wait
to drive Aura Lee into school. Aura Lee knew better. Mama tried to fool herself
a lot, but Aura Lee had known for a long, long time Papa didn’t love her.
It hurt sometimes when she thought about it too hard. Papa was big and loud and
he filled up a room so much Aura Lee felt as if she couldn’t breath with him
around. He was so full of life it frightened her, but she loved him with all
her heart. She wanted Papa to be pleased with her and to love her as much as he
did her brothers. No matter how hard she tried, Papa was never pleased with her
even though he pretended to be. Every since she’d overheard one argument too
many, Aura Lee knew she’d never be able to earn Papa’s love.
One night Aura Lee had a toothache and she’d gone to Mama and Papa’s room to
ask Mama for some medicine. Stopping outside the door, she heard Papa shouting
about her. Aura Lee knew she’d never forgot the hurtful words. “She might as
well be Jarrod or Heath’s child! She’s more like either of them than me!”
Aura Lee forgot her toothache as a worse pain squeezed her heart and a sick,
empty feeling filled her stomach. She knew she was a disappointment to Papa,
that he wished she liked horses and cows and wanted to learn everything he
taught the boys. Sometimes she thought maybe Papa had even wished she were a
boy. But to find out he didn’t even want her? That he wished she was Uncle
Jarrod or Uncle Heath’s little girl. Aura Lee loved her uncles but not like she
loved Papa. She loved him so much more than she could ever love Uncle Jarrod or
Uncle Heath. It hurt to find out. He didn’t love her back.
Not that Papa was ever mean to her or anything. He hugged her same as he did
the boys or brought her treats from town. Every night he was home he came to kiss
her goodnight and tell her a story about something that happened to him that
day. Aura Lee loved his stories about the ranch but she didn’t know how to tell
him. Each time she thought she might come right out with the words, they died
somewhere inside her or caught in a miserable bump in her throat. Papa might
not understand the words anyway, not like Uncle Jarrod or Uncle Heath would. He
got impatient if you couldn’t talk quickly enough to suit him and he was always
yelling at one of the boys, “Speak up! I’m not raising a bunch of mealy-mouthed
mice!” Aura Lee lived in fear of trying to tell Papa how she felt and having
him scowl or worse, not even listen. You had to be quick and talk ranch
business to get Papa’s attention. Aura Lee could do neither.
Aura Lee wished she could tell Papa how it made her heart ache when he sang her
song. Papa told her the story many times, how he’d picked out her name because
of the song, “Aura Lee.” In the song, the girl had golden hair so Papa always
changed the words to raven hair to match her own. When Papa sang to her, it was
so beautiful a lump always came into her throat. When he sang, she thought he
must love her just a little. But then she told herself, it was just that Papa
had always wanted a daughter to name Aura Lee. He’d heard the song during the
war, over and over on a harmonica, he’d once told her and promised himself if
he lived, if he got home, he’d name his daughter, Aura Lee. Some nights, Papa
told her, the thought of someday having a daughter was the only thing that kept
him alive.
It must be a bitter disappointment to Papa, Aura Lee often thought as she cried
herself to sleep, that the Aura Lee he got wasn’t like the girl in the song . .
. ”for to me, sweet Aura Lee, is sunshine to my heart.” Most of the time, Aura
Lee felt more like a storm cloud in Papa’s life than sunshine.
Clenching her hands tightly in the lap of her new school dress, Aura Lee wished
she could open her mouth and tell Papa . . . tell him something, anything to
make him listen as he did to the boys. If she could just say, “I love you,
Papa,” would he care? She wished . . . how she wished for things to be
different.
“Well, now,” Nick forced so much booming gaiety into his
voice Aura Lee jumped in the seat beside him, “another school year begins
today. You got all your books? Your lunch pail?”
After some hesitation, did the child think he was trying to trick a confession
out of her, Aura Lee whispered, “Yes, Papa.”
Nick sighed not even attempting to hide his annoyance at the way this
conversation had progressed. In his mind he argued with Brenna. I told you I
wouldn’t be able to find anything to say to her. The girl’s got her head in the
clouds, doesn’t understand a word I speak. It’s no use tryin’ to find some
common ground with her, Bren. She’s my flesh and blood but I sure can’t see any
of ME in her.
A heavy weight of silence fell over the two in the buggy. The horse’s hooves
hitting the dirt road, a jingle of the bridle as Butterscotch shook her head to
rid a pesky fly from buzzing around her ears and the hollow pecking of a bird
were the only sounds.
“That’s a woodpecker.” Aura Lee spoke up unexpectedly. “Wonder where he’s at?”
Nick ground his teeth to keep from speaking. Birds! If the girl could just
develop an interest in horses or cattle or some other worthy animal . . . but
no, it had to be birds she liked. He added this ammunition to his ongoing
silent argument with Brenna. Birds, Bren! What good are birds unless it’s a
chicken or a turkey? Something that produces a product you can sell?
“Do you . . . do you like birds, Papa?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Nick brushed the subject off impatiently, “I like birds okay.”
“Oh.” Aura Lee folded her hands in her lap. Staring down at her white knuckles,
a tiny cut on her thumb, Aura Lee willed herself to concentrate on her hands.
If only Papa liked some of the things, she did, like birds. It would be so much
easier to talk to Papa if she could talk about something she liked and not have
to worry about him giving her a disapproving frown.
Aura Lee stopped concentrating on her hands to look around and see how much
farther they had to travel to the schoolhouse. They were more than half way
there. That meant she only had 15 more minutes to talk to Papa. Mama had made
it quite clear before she left the house that morning she was to talk to Papa
or face the consequences later.
“You’ll be talkin’ to Himself, darlin’, or I’ll be knowing the why not of it
when you get home.”
“But Mama,” Aura Lee protested the tiniest bit, knowing Mama allowed her to
speak her mind as long as she wasn’t disrespectful. “What am I supposed to talk
to him about? He doesn’t like anything I like. I don’t know how to talk about
horses or cows or how many olives grow on a tree.”
“Then you’ll be talkin’ about drawing or painting or the bird nest you and your
Uncle Heath found last week.”
Aura Lee frowned at that. “Papa gets angry when I talk about drawing or
painting or birds.”
“Now, darlin’, I’ll not have you saying such things about Himself. When has he
ever gotten angry at one of his children telling him something? Has he ever
scolded you? Raised a hand to you? No, and you can’t be sayin’ he has.”
“I know, Mama,” Aura Lee sought to explain while Mama brushed her dark hair and
tied a green band of ribbon around her head, “but when I talk about those
things, Papa acts like he has a headache. He keeps rubbing the back of his neck
and tapping his foot like he wished I’d stop.”
Mama laughed but it didn’t stop her from telling Aura Lee she’d best be talking
to Papa.
“You’re two stubborn mules, alike as if you’d come in a matched set of china,”
Mama told her in determination, “and I’m tired of forever tryin’ to get the two
of you to see it. You’ll be talkin’ to Himself, tellin’ him about the bird nest
you found or I’ll be . . . I’ll be . . . ” Aura Lee couldn’t believe Mama’s
next words, “I’ll be takin’ away your drawin’ pencils and paints for a week.
You’ll not get as much as a scrap of paper to be drawin’ on either.”
Aura Lee’s mouth dropped open. No drawing? No painting? For a whole week? Aura
Lee, who could count on two fingers the times she’d actually been punished by
her mother for anything, could hardly believe this ultimatum. As she rode to
school later, the threat filled her with dread. How could she talk to Papa?
How? If she didn’t talk to him, she risked losing her beloved pencils. It gave
her a sick feeling in her stomach just to imagine such a loss.
Sitting beside her annoyed Papa in the buggy, Aura Lee took a deep breath and
struggled to bring the words out of her mouth. “Uncle Heath and I found a bird
nest last week.” The first words came out timidly, little more than a whisper.
Papa grunted so Aura Lee knew he heard. It gave her a small push of courage to
say more. “It was a sparrow’s nest.” He didn’t stop her so Aura Lee clenched
her hands and went on with the story. I’m trying Mama. I’m trying. “When we
were walking back home, we found a robin’s egg just laying in the meadow. It
wasn’t cracked or anything so Uncle Heath said, ‘let’s go put it in the
sparrow’s nest and see what happens.’”
“Sounds like some fool thing Heath would do.”
Aura Lee gulped, clutched her hands tighter and forged ahead. “We went back a
few weeks later and the robin hatched.” She dared to glance at him hiding
behind her curls. He didn’t look interested but he wasn’t frowning either. “The
sparrow’s were taking care of him just like he was their own baby bird. And
Uncle Heath said he wondered what the Papa Sparrow said to the Mama Sparrow
about why he didn’t look like the rest of their children. Uncle Heath said,
maybe the Papa Sparrow said, nothing like this ever happened in my family.”
A grunt that might have been a laugh came from deep in Papa’s throat.
I tried, Mama. I tried and he won’t listen. Quick tears moistened Aura Lee’s
eyes, tears of disappointment and hurt and surprisingly, she realized, anger.
If I was Patrick talking about a stupid old cow, he’d listen to me. Or Breton.
When Papa and Breton talked no one else could say a word. Their ideas shot out
and bounced back and forth and they each knew what the other meant to say
before he said it. Papa always found time to listen to the boys.
Aura Lee thought of her drawing pencils, her paints and not being able to use
them for a whole week. The small spark of anger she felt at Papa for not
laughing at her story simmered, came to a boil and spilled out before she quite
realized what she’d spoken. “If I was Patrick, you’d listen to me.”
“What?” Nick thought at first he’d dreamed the sudden show of spirit from the
child beside him. Aura Lee, who never even spoke to him except quietly,
respectfully, couldn’t have said what he thought he’d heard. He looked over at
his daughter, hands clamped over her mouth, a scared look in her eyes. She had!
Well, Nick thought with more than a little satisfaction, it’s about time! I
kind of hoped there was some Barkley in the girl. Looks like I was right.
“What did you say to me?” Nick kept careful control over his glee and spoke in
the stern father voice he’d perfected through three sons.
“I...” she took her hands away from her mouth. Trembling, as pale as if she
might fade away into a vapor, Aura Lee’s lips quivered an answer, “I’m sorry,
Papa. I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Yes, you did.” He growled it, refusing to let her take the easy way out. “You
said if you were Patrick, I’d listen to you. I listen to you, girl! I’ve
listened to every fool thing you’ve said about birds.”
Aura Lee crimped her lips. If he just hadn’t said “birds” that way, as it they
were something nasty he’d stepped in and couldn’t rub off his boots, she might
not have spoken up. It hurt having him make fun of what she loved best. “Birds
aren’t fool things! Not anymore than cows or horses or you’re stupid old orange
groves and grapes!”
“My what?” Nick bellowed. He’d wanted spirit but deliberate rudeness was
another thing. Stupid old orange groves and grapes? ”The sale of the cows and
horses and the oranges are what pay for your fancy drawing pencils and paints,
girl! They’re what give you the leisure to sit and draw while some kids your
age are out in a field dragging a hundred-pound sack of cotton along for a few
pennies a day! I don’t want you EVER, EVER belittling anything about this
ranch, you hear me? I love the ranch and you’d best learn to love it too!”
“You don’t love it, Papa, you don’t.” Aura Lee’s tears were falling thick and
fast. She was scared and furious but feeling a curious sense of power she’d
never felt before. “All you love is making money from the ranch! All you care
about is counting how many cows you have or how many grapes you’re going to
ship out and sell! You don’t love the land or anything on it if it doesn’t make
you any money.”
“How dare you?”
“It’s true! It’s true!” Aura Lee knew she should stop, knew she should fear he
might hit her. Papa never allowed the boys to speak to him like she had. But
she’d kept the hurt and anger bottled up for so long it wouldn’t go back
inside. “You don’t love the ranch like I do, Papa. You never stop and look at
anything like the bird’s nest or skip rocks in the river or even lay in the
meadow and look at the clouds.”
“I haven’t got time for that!” Nick cut her off sensing a truth in what she
said that he’d rather not examine too closely. A feeling he’d had for a long
time that his love for the land was ebbing, that he’d been too caught up in
providing for his children and his brother’s families to appreciate what had
drawn him to the land in the first place.
“You don’t love the land or . . . ” Aura Lee began to weep in deep shuddering
sobs that tore at Nick’s heart like a knife. Her last whispered word thrust the
shaft of the pain deeper. “...me.”
“Now you just wait one minute, Aura Lee Barkley,” Nick
warned, jerking hard on the reins to stop the ever patient Butterscotch into
standing still. “How can you even think I don’t love you?”
“You don’t, Papa. You don’t love me like you do the boys.” Aura Lee’s throat
ached so with tears she could barely speak the words. “You wish I was different
or more like you. You want me to like horses and cows and all the things you
teach the boys but I can’t, Papa. I can’t.”
“Aw, honey,” Nick reached out to stroke her hair, “I’ve loved you since the
second you were born. Maybe it seemed like I didn’t sometimes, I’m not real
good at speakin’ the words, but Aura Lee I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Aura Lee looked at him with tears streaming down her cheeks. “You don’t love
me! I heard you tell Mama once you wished I was Uncle Jarrod or Uncle Heath’s
little girl.”
“Jarrod or Heath’s little girl?” Nick looked at her puzzled, searching his hard
head for the conversation she remembered. It was likely he had spoken such
words in anger to Brenna. Words to cover up his own hurt because Aura Lee never
seemed to share her world with him as she did with her uncles. Realizing he
couldn’t deny it his heart sank at imagining how his careless words would have
hurt the child sitting beside him. “Aura Lee, if I said that, I was a fool.
Don’t you know how much I love you, girl? If I had to give up everything on the
ranch to keep you, Aura Lee, it wouldn’t take me any time to decide.”
“Wouldn’t be much choice anyway,” Aura Lee cried, “since you don’t really care
about the ranch anyway. All you care about is how much money you make on it.”
Nick clenched and unclenched his jaw. His first instinct was to hotly deny it,
to scold his surprisingly stubborn daughter for thinking badly of him and
saying so. If one of the boys had dared to speak in the same disrespectful
tone, he wouldn’t have hesitated about meting out swift discipline, but this
was his baby. A child of few words, unlike her quick tongued father, mother and
brothers who never seemed to lack words, when Aura Lee spoke she had something
to say.
“What makes you think I don’t love the ranch?” Nick asked. When she kept
silent, hanging her head to hide her still flowing tears, he asked gently,
“Maybe I love it as much as you do. Why do you love it, Aura Lee?”
At first he got no answer but a few discreet sniffs. He had time to argue a few
more pertinent points in a silent conversation with Bren before Aura Lee spoke
softly. “I love everything. The way the meadows and the pastures seem to swoop
right down to touch the edge of the sky. All the patterns the orchards make and
the way the sun comes up and reaches down with golden fingers to touch the
oranges or the grapes. I love how clean and fresh all the grasses and flowers
look after it rains. I love the way the hay smells so sweet and summery when
you and Uncle Heath load it into the barn. I...” Aura Lee faltered, as if wary
of his displeasure. Hastily, she finished, “I can’t explain.”
“Aura Lee,” Nick found his own voice chocked up. How long had it been since
he’d looked, really looked, at the acres he rode? Or enjoyed the sunrise
through the orchards? When was the last time he’d taken the boys to skip rocks
across the pond or just taken a walk with Bren through the meadows? Too long,
he thought wearily, much too long. “I think that you and I aren’t so different
after all.” He looked at her with wonder and a sense of joy. Somehow, even with
all his bumbling and getting away from what had drawn him to this love of the
land in the first place, he’d passed along a real legacy to his child. He’d
given her an appreciation of the land he’d forgotten. “Did you ever sit under
the grape vines when it rained and watch the raindrops drip down?” Nick held up
his hand and made dripping motions, “One by one by one all around you.”
Aura Lee sat up with a startled, disbelieving glance. “Did you, Papa?”
Nick nodded. “Or go down behind the old cabin in that stand of poplars and look
for...”
“Mushrooms?” She quavered cautiously.
“Yeah, the big ones that almost look like circus tents.” Nick grinned at the
surprised look of pleasure on her face, her brown eyes luminous with shared
delight. “When I was a little boy, I loved to sneak away from Jarrod and just
lie in the middle of all those mushrooms pretending.”
“What did you pretend?”
“Oh,” Nick casually slipped an arm along the back of the buggy seat, waiting
for Aura Lee to sit up, wipe her eyes and listen eagerly for his answer. “Maybe
I was the King and all the mushrooms were my kingdom. Or I was prisoner in
Mushroom Land and had to think of a way to escape.”
Aura Lee giggled. How good it was to hear her laugh, to see her smile. “I like
to look at all the colors and imagine how they’d look if I drew...” Aura Lee
bit her lip, waiting for him to disapprove. Nick encouraged her with a smile to
go on. “I like to imagine how they’d look with faces.”
Father and daughter looked at one another a little shyly, as if opening their
hearts had made them too vulnerable to be hurt again. Nick shifted his
attention back to the horse, flicking the reins to get her plodding toward the
school again. “We’d best hurry,” he covered up the churning emotions he felt
rising inside by thinking of the ordinary, “you don’t want to be late the first
day, do you?”
“No, Papa.”
“You know, Aura Lee, maybe we aren’t so different after all. Your Mama’s always
telling me we’re both as stubborn as a June day is long. I think she’s right.”
He glanced over at her listening quietly. “All these years, I been trying to
change you into being someone you aren’t. It was wrong of me, I admit I always
wanted you to be more like your brothers. More like me. But you know
something?”
“What, Papa?”
“You got a lot of Nick Barkley inside you. All these years you clung tight
fisted to who you are. You didn’t let anybody, not even me, change you. I want
you to know, Aura Lee, I’m proud of you. Even if you never learn to ride a
horse.”
Aura Lee looked at him with shining eyes. “You are, Papa? As proud as you are
of Patrick or Breton or Randall?”
“Prouder. All your brothers did was follow along in my footsteps, you went your
own way and forged your own trail. Not everybody can do that, Aura Lee.” Nick
reached out and took her small hand in his. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe after
school today why don’t you take me out to look at that bird’s nest you and
Heath found.”
“I’d like that, Papa,” her smile warmed Nick to every corner of his heart. He’d
have to find ways to make her smile more. Maybe by spending more time with her
and less time counting cows.
“Here we are,” Nick pulled the buggy to a stop in front of the whitewashed
schoolhouse. He nodded politely to the teacher standing on the top step ready
to ring a hand bell. “You’d best hurry.”
As Nick reached to help her stand and jump from the buggy, Aura Lee turned
toward him. Instead of her usual shy, lips barely brushing his cheek kiss, she
flung her arms around him in an exuberant hug. Nick held her fiercely, tears
filling his eyes at his own blindness and stupidity. “You have a good day,” he
said at last, husky voiced.
Aura Lee smiled at him as he helped her jump from the buggy. As Nick picked up
the reins to leave, he watched her dash back up to stand beside him. “Papa?
Papa . . . maybe if you put the saddle on my pony and hold him really still, I
could try to sit on him awhile without being scared. If you. If you want to?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
“Bye, Papa, I . . . I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Nick sat with his hands limply between his knees, watching the children file in
as Miss Johnson rang the school bell. Aura Lee turned before she went through
the door to dart an impish smile and wave in his direction. Nick returned the
wave. He didn’t know what his children would learn on this first day of school
but he knew he’d learned one of the most valuable lessons of all. How to
finally love his daughter.