One Short Sleep

Chapters 14-18

by JanissaB

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.

Chapter 14

“Heath still hasn’t come back,” Audra whispered in his ear as they rose to leave the table. “Or Mother.”

Jarrod nodded curtly. “I noticed. I’ll go and check on them. Go on; I’ll join you shortly.”

Alice hadn’t missed Heath’s exit, unfortunately, and now wore a concerned expression. “Is your brother quite well?” she asked softly. Her hand was cool on his wrist. “He looked pale.”

Jarrod gave her a brief smile. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he said as glibly as he could. “Why don’t you join the others in the parlor? I won’t be long.”

Her full mouth drew down in a practiced pout. “Please hurry, Jarrod,” she told him. “It won’t be the same without you.”

He nodded a little more curtly than he intended, and gave a slight bow over her hand.

Easton emerged from the kitchen bearing a tray of cordials. “Have you seen Mr. Barkley?” Jarrod asked, his company smile disappearing completely.

“He went up, not that long ago, sir,” Easton told him.

“Did he look ill?”

“A bit, sir.” Easton’s genial features twisted with alarm. “You don’t reckon it was the food, do you, sir?”

Jarrod clasped the man’s shoulder briefly. “Not to worry. Heath was -– under the weather, before he even arrived.”

Easton’s face expressed his relief.

Upstairs he found Victoria on the landing. Her expression was grim, and Jarrod tensed again. “How is he?”

“Ill,” she said, with a tight shrug. “But I think he’s mostly tired.”

“I’ll go and check on him.”

He almost wished he hadn’t, when he entered Heath’s bedroom; the smell of sickness was unmistakable. But then, thought Jarrod ruefully, it hadn’t been Heath’s idea to entertain tonight, had it? He cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”

Heath sat slouched on the bed, the recently used basin nearby. His face was pale and sweaty, and he shook his head. “Sorry ‘bout that, Jarrod.” His voice sounded rusty. “Didn’t mean to spoil your party.”

“You didn’t spoil anything.” Jarrod sat on the edge of the chair, brow furrowed. “Should I send Easton to fetch a doctor?”

Heath gave him an appalled look. “Aw, no. Honest, think I just ate too much or somethin’. I’ll be fine directly.”

Jarrod nodded slowly. Not for the first time he noticed how Heath’s manner of speaking changed when he was tired, or feeling unwell. The less well, the stronger the tinge of country in his voice. And right now Heath sounded about as country as Jarrod had ever heard. A sure sign that despite his reassuring words, his brother was far from well, and certainly not up to rejoining the party.

“I shouldn’t have organized this so soon after your arrival,” Jarrod said awkwardly. “I don’t know what I was thinking, Heath, I’m sorry. Too much, too soon.”

Heath shrugged and shook his head again. “Reckon Audra and you were enjoying yourselves; why shouldn’t you? Just think I mighta ate too much, that’s all.”

“Jane seemed quite taken with you,” Jarrod offered, smiling.

“Who? Miss Alexander, you mean?” Heath lifted an eyebrow, looking so completely normal for a moment Jarrod was a little startled. “Ain’t me she’s sweet on. And I don’t reckon she much liked your other lady friend.”

Jarrod blinked. “Who? Alice? They’re old friends, Heath. Why would you think that?”

“Maybe so. But they both got their eye on you. Mark my word. Miss Alexander wasn’t any too pleased.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating, Heath.” Jarrod smiled and reached out to pat Heath’s knee. “Tell you what. I need to go shoo my guests out, and then I’ll see how you’re faring.”

“Don’t need to babysit me,” Heath said calmly. His color had come back a tiny bit, Jarrod saw. “But if it’s all the same to you, I figure I might just call it a night.”

“Of course.”

“Tell Miss Alexander I’m sorry I up and run like that, would you? Wasn’t real gentlemanly of me.”

“Don’t give it a thought.”

“All right.”

He met Victoria outside the room, fresh towels in her hands, odd when contrasted with her elegant gown. “He says he’s feeling better,” Jarrod told her. “But I think he won’t be rejoining us.”

“That’s probably best. I may be a few moments myself, darling. Do you mind terribly?”

He shook his head and kissed her temple lightly. “Of course not.”

Downstairs, his party had stumbled, as he knew it might. Tad was still flirting valiantly with Audra, who to Jarrod’s eyes looked a little bored. And Alice and Jane were sitting as far apart as the room would let them, which lent a little credence to Heath’s odd theory. Deciding to put off testing said theory till another day, Jarrod walked inside.

“Oh, how is Mr. Barkley?” Jane asked, looking fetchingly woebegone. “Did he take ill?”

“He’ll be back on his feet tomorrow, I’m sure,” Jarrod told her, feeling a sharp twinge of guilt.

Tucker, who looked a bit worn himself, stood up and patted his coat. “Jarrod, old friend, I should be off myself. I’m stuck with Judge Morris tomorrow morning at 8:00am sharp, and you know how the old coot feels about Easterners.”

Jarrod smiled. “I do, indeed. Thank God I’m not one.”

There were some laughs, and then a general bustle of leave-taking, and twenty minutes later he finally deposited Tad in a cab. “Be careful!” Jarrod called, watching Tad’s hand waving from the window.

On the front step, Audra stood with arms crossed. Jarrod walked back, hands in his pockets. “Tell me at least you had fun,” he said glumly. “And it will be worth giving Heath a bout of dyspepsia.”

“It was fun.” Audra caught his look, and dropped her gaze. “Mostly fun. Just -– Mr. Rippington was a bit… Well.”

“Yes, he does tend to be a bit, well. But I’d thought you’d like Bob Tucker.”

“Oh, I did! It’s only -- Well, I’d have liked to talk with him, but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise! Mr. Rippington, going on and on about Harvard and tennis and horses, oh the HORSES. I love horses, you know I do, but I swear, I wanted to stuff my napkin in his mouth and shove him under the table!” Her eyes widened. “No, I didn’t, really, Jarrod, it’s only that –“

Laughing, Jarrod shook his head. “Well, the next time I invite Tad to dinner,” he said, taking her arm and leading her back inside, “I’ll make sure to leave spirits off the menu.”

“Alice -- Miss Taylor -– You know she’s sweet on you. Was there something you wanted to…tell us, Jarrod?”

“Nothing special, no. Why?”

“Oh.” She sighed, and then smacked his upper arm. “Men! You mean to tell me you didn’t notice? If Miss Taylor and Miss Alexander had been able, I think they’d have clawed each others’ eyes out!”

“Audra, you’re exaggerating. Just like Heath.”

“Heath saw it too! Well, there you have it.”

He locked the doors behind them and gave his sister a look. “I didn’t notice any fur flying. Did you?”

Audra gave a pretty toss of her head. “Heath and I seem to have noticed a number of things you didn’t, Jarrod. Time will tell.”

“And so it will.”

“Tell what, may I ask?”

Jarrod glanced over at Victoria, making her way downstairs. “Nothing, Mother, I promise. Just a few – alleged shenanigans, that’s all.”

“It wouldn’t be a party without a few shenanigans,” Victoria remarked, with a brief smile.

“How’s Heath?”

“Sleeping.” Victoria sighed and walked over to take Jarrod’s elbow. “He was exhausted. Please tell Easton it wasn’t the food. Clearly –- we’re all fine. Heath’s digestion has been a bit compromised, I suppose.”

“Too bad Silas isn’t here,” Audra said, accepting Jarrod’s other elbow. “He could whip something right up.”

“Well, we’ll simply have to make do.” Jarrod lifted his eyebrows. “Coffee or brandy?”

“The former would be lovely, dear.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I should never have planned entertaining with Heath here.” Jarrod stared into the depths of his coffee cup, brows furrowed. “It was a rotten idea. Why didn’t you stop me?”

Victoria smiled and sipped her coffee. “You’re a grown man, Jarrod,” she replied mildly. “I can’t direct you in your own house.”

He snorted. “I don’t see why not. Especially when I do something so foolish!”

“Jarrod,” Victoria sputtered with a laugh. “Everyone had a fine time. Well, most everyone. It isn’t your fault that Heath -- I strongly suspect he would have felt poorly even if it had only been the four of us. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

“But he looked so well today. Almost –-“

She watched Jarrod bite off what he had almost said. “Almost himself again?” Victoria murmured.

“I suppose. Sounds selfish of me. It IS selfish of me.” Jarrod set down his cup and leaned back with a sigh. “I want things the way they were. I want Heath the way he was. There, I admit it. I want him well. Is it so much to ask?”

“It’s why we’re here, darling. We all want that.” Victoria regarded him steadily. “I don’t suppose you –-“

She was interrupted by a mighty hammering at the front door. Jarrod flinched, and Victoria herself nearly spilled her coffee from the surprise.

“If that’s Rippington come back for more,” Jarrod growled, “I’ll soak him in coffee myself. Just a moment, Mother.”

Easton was already at the door, unlocking it when Jarrod and Victoria emerged into the hallway. “Easton, don’t worry about that,” Jarrod called. “Probably one of the guests, who forgot something.”

“As you wish, sir.” Easton retreated to the door to the kitchen, where he lingered, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“As God is my witness, Tad, this had better be –-“ Jarrod finished swinging the door open and froze.

“Tad?” Nick bellowed, breath pluming in the cold air. “What kind of a name is that for a man?”

“Nick?” Victoria’s mouth opened in new surprise. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Can I come in first? Damn cold out here.”

Still looking thunderstruck, Jarrod stood to the side to allow Nick in the door.

“That’s better.” Nick took off his gloves, stuffing them in his coat pockets. “All right, where’s Heath and Audra?”

“Upstairs, Nicholas.” Jarrod secured the door behind him. “Previously sleeping, until you decided to batter down my door in the middle of the night. Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on the ranch?”

“Ranch isn’t going anyplace in January, as you well know.” Nick gave Victoria a belated buss on the cheek. “Which is more than I can say for you people, considering I waited all blessed day for a wire that never got there!”

“We completely forgot,” Victoria breathed. “Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry!”

“Figured that much out on my own.”

“We were busy all day, the doctor’s appointment, and then the party –-“

“Party?” Nick rolled his eyes. “Mighta known. Leave me at home, and -- Party?” he repeated, the teasing leaving his voice. “What in the name of all that’s holy are you doing having a party?”

Jarrod looked guilty again. “Well, it was only dinner –-“

“Have you even noticed that Heath is sick?” Nick interrupted, eyes blazing. “What, you think he came to Frisco to meet women or somethin’? That it? A month ago you two were plannin’ his damn eulogy and now you’re havin’ a PARTY?”

“A small party,” Jarrod said stiffly.

“I see I was right to come,” Nick observed, glaring at him. “He needs rest, Jarrod, not a damn social season! You think he came here to be wined and dined and –-“

“If I recall correctly,” Jarrod interrupted, face gone pale, “it wasn’t you who saw what was wrong with him in the first place! I resent your implication that –-“

“Enough!” Victoria said stridently. Both men stared at her, mouths still agape. “I will not have this!” she continued in a softer but no less intense voice. “Look at you! At each other’s throats, and it’s because you’re afraid! Well, we’re all afraid! Nick, we didn’t have a party to pretend everything’s fine – we had a party because Heath needs to remember he’s still alive, and going to stay that way. And both of you, this isn’t a contest to see who can do the best job seeing to Heath’s needs! Stop it! Immediately!”

Jarrod nodded, even paler than before. “I apologize, Mother. Nick. I –-“

“Sorry about yelling at you, Jarrod.” Nick shook his head, closing his eyes briefly. “Didn’t mean what I said there.”

“Nick?”

They all flinched, and glanced at the stairway. Audra stood with her dressing gown wrapped tightly around her, hair done up in nighttime pigtails. “When did you get here?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“Just a few minutes ago. How’s Heath?”

“He was coughing, so I got up to get him Dr. Jeffries’ medicine. Then I heard yelling. Mother?”

“Everything’s fine, darling,” Victoria told her, sparing her two sons a scathing look of warning. “I think we’re all just a bit emotional at the moment.”

“Oh, Nick.” Audra’s expression was tragic. “We forgot to wire you, didn’t we? I’m so sorry!”

“It’s all right,” Nick said grudgingly. “Never did think it was a good idea, me staying behind like that. Can’t take the not knowing.”

Audra nodded slowly. “He’ll be so glad you’re here.”

Nick’s expression lightened. “Good, good.”

“It’s very late,” Victoria said quietly. She sighed. “And we’re all tired. Can we present a united front now? We’re all on the same side here. We all want Heath to get better, and that’s what we must all focus on now. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Mother,” all three of her children said in unison, and then exchanged startled looks and a few laughs.

“Good.” She gave a crisp nod. “I’m going up to check on Heath, and then I’m going to bed. I suggest you three do the same.”

“Mind if I come along, Mother?” Nick asked, still sounding a little squelched. “Sounds silly, but.”

She saw the pain in his eyes, and relented. “Of course, darling.”

Walking to the stairway, she noted a much warmer exchange of looks between Jarrod and Nick, and felt her tired tension fading a bit. With Audra in front of her and Nick at her heels, she began climbing the stairs.

Chapter 15

Hope is patience with the lamp lit. (Tertullian)

If Nick had any questions about coming before now, Heath’s reaction put them to rest. His expression when Nick peered into his room was tired, but purely delighted.

“Wondered when you’d turn up,” Heath commented, and coughed into his fist.

Nick grinned broadly. “Can’t fool you, brother, can I?” He walked over to grab a chair, taking a seat near the bed. “How you feelin’?”

Heath shrugged and sat up a bit. “All right, I reckon. That you I heard down there yellin’ at Jarrod?”

“None other,” Nick admitted, leaning back.

“He didn’t do any wrong, Nick. Wasn’t a dinner party done this to me. You know that.”

“I guess. You see that doctor today?”

“One of ‘em.”

“And?”

“Said about the same thing.”

Nick nodded slowly, feeling a twinge in his breast he had to fight not to show. “Damn. Audra said you got you some new medicine.”

Heath gave a look at the containers sitting on the bedside table. “Can’t tell as how they’re doing all that much,” he said with a shrug. “Guess we’ll see.”

“Sound better.”

“He give me some air to breathe. Oxygen,” Heath corrected. “Now that did help some. Funny.”

“Good. I ought to let you sleep.”

“Ain’t sleepy.”

Nick smiled. “Bet Jarrod’s got some cards round here someplace.”

“Bet you’re right.” Heath drew a breath to add something, and coughed harshly. Nick waited for the paroxysm to end, but when it kept going and Heath’s face contorted with pain, he felt his worry growing.

“Which one?” Nick asked, eyeing the bottles on the table.

Heath pointed, and to Nick’s surprise sprayed the contents in his mouth.

“What the hell?” Nick murmured.

Catching his breath, Heath swallowed a couple of times and set the bottle back on the table. “Miss Blackwell says it’s to calm the coughin’.” He blinked and shook his head. “Reckon it’s got somethin’ like laudanum in it. Makes me feel funny.”

“Miss Blackwell? Now who’s that?”

“Lady doctor.” Heath leaned back, still blinking. “Works with Dr. Jeffries.”

“Pretty?”

“And some.” A dopey smile appeared on Heath’s face. “Reckon a man don’t so much mind takin’ ill, if his doctor looks like that.”

“Maybe.” Nick eyed him cautiously. “Heath, that medicine’s made you drunk.”

Heath uttered a thick laugh, and coughed once. “Somethin’, not sure.” His words were slurred. “Still gotta –- cough, but -– don’t much care.”

Nick saw the pupils of Heath’s eyes had grown so much they nearly crowded out the blue altogether. Unsure whether to laugh at his brother’s obvious loopiness or worry at same, he made a face. “Guess now we know what’s in that stuff.”

“Like that one better –- than t’other one. Burns.”

“Maybe you oughta sleep now.”

Heath’s eyelids sagged. “Maybe –- so.”

Nick stood and awkwardly pulled the covers up over Heath’s chest, lingering to gaze down at him. “You give a holler, you need anything.”

Heath smiled goofily and closed his eyes.

Troubled, Nick doused the lamp before leaving. On his way up the stairs he saw Victoria coming out of one of the rooms. “Audra and I will double up,” she told him in a low voice. “You’ll have this room.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. How’s Heath?”

Nick shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Got to coughing, and breathed up some of that medicine. Made him drunk as a skunk.”

Victoria nodded slowly. “I believe it has opium in it.”

“Think you’re right about that. Hate that he has to use it.”

“This morning he told the doctor that his chest hurts, almost all the time. I didn’t realize he was in such pain.”

“He was hurting just now,” Nick agreed after a moment. “You know him, he doesn’t like to admit it. But I think he was glad for the stuff.”

“At least it should let him sleep.”

“Out cold when I left.”

“Good. Well, good night, sweetheart.” She smiled tiredly at him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Already morning,” Nick quipped, but smiled back. “Night, Mother.”

“Nick?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

He smiled again. “Couldn’t keep me away.”

She nodded and patted his arm before disappearing into the other room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

None of them were at their best the following morning. Nick woke with the sun, later than he usually did, and lay for a second trying to remember where he was before sitting bolt upright in bed. Jarrod’s house, San Francisco. And this morning was that other doctor’s appointment for Heath.

He rummaged for his pocket watch, and grimaced at the time. Dressing fast, he opened the door and trotted down to the next floor. In Heath’s room he found Victoria, up and dressed already, and holding a fresh shirt.

“Overslept,” Nick said hoarsely.

“We all did,” she said, laying the shirt over a chair. “Heath?” She walked to bend over the bed, touching the slumbering man’s shoulder. “Wake up, darling.”

It took several shakes to bring Heath around, and even then his blue eyes were cloudy with sleep and probably the medicine, too. “Nick?” he asked, giving him a confused look. “Didn’t know you were here. When’d you get here?”

“Got in last night. You don’t remember?”

Heath shook his head and coughed. “Head feels funny.”

“Sit up, darling,” Victoria told him. “You have to get dressed. Your appointment’s this morning.”

Heath sat up, scrubbing his hands through his hair. The result was so messy Nick couldn’t bite back a snort. “Better tame that haystack before you go, brother.”

Heath gave him a bleary smile and took the shirt Victoria offered him.

By the time they got him dressed and weaving out the door, Audra and Jarrod were up and about as well. Audra looked something less than radiant, although Nick believed nothing short of illness itself could completely spoil her natural beauty. Jarrod, on the other hand, looked like Nick felt, which was to say, tired, annoyed, and itchy at the time.

“Easton’s put on a cold breakfast for us,” Jarrod said without preamble, leading the way down the stairs. “No time for more, I’m afraid.”

“That will be fine, Jarrod,” Victoria told him. She took a firmer grip on Heath’s arm. “Careful, darling,” she added.

It took some doing, but Heath came around a bit with a fast cup of very strong coffee. Nick drank his own gratefully, and soon he, Jarrod, and Heath were installed in a hired cabriolet, making their way briskly to the other doctor’s office. Victoria and Audra both wanted to go, but the thought of Audra around folks probably sicker than Heath himself was very unpleasant, and Mother had already taken her chances yesterday. They left with promises to pick them up later for lunch.

Heath still looked dazed, and his cough was not comforting, but Nick resolutely pushed his anxiety away. He glanced at Jarrod. “So this is the man you heard speak last month, right? With all the newfangled ideas?”

Jarrod nodded. “I’m afraid I left before he was quite done, but I got the gist of it. His ideas weren’t too popular, it didn’t seem. But he was very confident.”

Nick listened intently to Jarrod’s explanation of Dr. Brehmer’s sanatoria, only stopping him once. “He was cured?” he asked, staring at him. “You mean, completely?”

“According to Ralston, yes.” Jarrod produced a tired smile. “You see my interest.”

“Damn right I do.”

By the time Jarrod had wound down, they were almost to their destination and Heath had dozed off again, head heavy on Nick’s shoulder. Jarrod met Nick’s grim look stolidly. “How many times do you want me to apologize?” Jarrod asked finally, shaking his head. “But I don’t think it’s only the party that’s left him this way, Nick. I truly don’t.”

“You’re probably right,” Nick admitted after a long moment. “Just –- feels odd, to see him like this.” He shifted a little as the cab hit a chuckhole and Heath nearly toppled the other direction. It had the benefit of waking him, though, so Nick wasn’t complaining. “Come on, boy, rise and shine,” Nick said gruffly. He put an arm over Heath’s shoulders and tried not to notice how bony they were. “Think we can get him some more coffee?” he asked Jarrod, and patted Heath’s cheek. “Up and at ‘em, Heath. Come on.”

Heath’s blue eyes regarded him balefully. “Leave me alone,” he mumbled.

“Nope. I’m damned if I’m carryin’ you in there. Sit up.”

“Tired.”

Hating himself a little, Nick said, “Well, we are, too. And you don’t see us loungin’ around, do you? Come on now.”

In a low voice Jarrod said, “This is us.”

It was a strange and anxious experience, getting Heath out of the cabriolet, and one Nick hoped never to repeat. Heath’s condition was something more than drowsiness; his movements were clumsy, marionette-like, and if Nick hadn’t known better he would have sworn his brother was flat drunk. Drunk almost to the point of sickness.

Dr. Ralston was seeing patients out of the offices of a fellow specialist, but today they saw no one else besides the office staff. A matronly looking woman took their names and nodded, and a few moments later Dr. Ralston himself appeared, nattily dressed and fitting Jarrod’s description to a tee.

“Doctor, I’m Jarrod Barkley, and these are my brothers, Nick and Heath.”

Ralston shook hands with him and with Nick, but his focus was already on Heath, who sat mute in a chair, eyelids sagging. “Heath is the patient, I presume,” he said absently. He hunkered down and reached out to lift Heath’s chin. “Help me bring him inside, would you?”

Together they manhandled Heath into the inner office, a room that had clearly served as a storage space until it had been pressed into alternative duty. Under Ralston’s supervision Nick and Jarrod maneuvered Heath into a portable examination chair.

“How long has he been like this?” Ralston’s eyes narrowed as he examined Heath’s face critically.

“Since he got up,” Nick said, crossing his arms. “Boy just won’t wake up this morning.”

Ralston held Heath’s jaw with one hand while he peeled back an eyelid, making soft clucking sounds. “Huh.”

Jarrod’s eyebrows lifted. “Yes?”

Letting Heath’s head sag back against the chair back, Ralston nodded crisply. “And no wonder. He’s quite drugged.”

Nick frowned. “He took the medicine he was supposed to. But that was last night. Why’s –-“

“Let me guess.” Ralston’s gaze was darkly amused. “Atomized mist?”

“Sounds about right, but –“

“A very powerful concoction consisting primarily of opium. He might as well gulp down a pint of laudanum. The effect is the same.” Ralston shook his head. “A misguided attempt to give the patient rest from coughing, when in fact the decoction anesthetizes, thereby worsening the problem. Without coughing, the congestion only increases.”

“But he couldn’t sleep for the damn coughing, how was he supposed to –-“

“Poppycock,” Ralston interrupted crisply, walking over to where a sheaf of papers lay on a counter. “He saw another doctor, did he? Hughes? Or was it Jeffries?” He rustled through the papers, evidently not finding what he sought. “Opium, and that rotted carbolic acid. Balderdash. Did he use oxygen as well? Useless.”

Nick drew an indignant breath to say something, he wasn’t sure what, but Jarrod’s warning glance stifled him for the moment. “I believe he did use oxygen, yes,” Jarrod said in a level tone. “Heath felt quite improved, but it seems to have been temporary.”

“The patient must cough, in order for the congestion to improve. That in turn improves the oxygen flow, thereby negating the need for supplements.” Ralston said it all in an impatient voice, and Nick bristled anew at the supercilious tone.

“So,” Nick barked, a little pleased to see Ralston’s sharp look. “You got all the answers -– tell us what to do.”

“Stop giving him useless medicaments, for one,” Ralston shot back. “Prescribed by quacks who have not the slightest idea of how to adequately treat consumption, and hide their lack of knowledge behind jargon and barbiturates!”

“So you think a sanatorium is the right treatment for our brother?” Jarrod asked intently.

“Not only right, Mr. Barkley, but the only treatment that stands a chance of helping him.” Ralston’s face had gone red during his interchange with Nick, and now he blew a sigh of frustration. “You have not the faintest inkling of the frustration I feel,” he continued in a lower voice. “Trying to educate those who willfully refuse that education. These doctors here, they cannot admit the truth. No medicament is useful for someone in your brother’s condition. No matter how arcane or glamorous.”

Nick drew a long breath, fighting for calm and failing. “So if doing something won’t help him, how can NOT doing something help?”

“I’m not advocating inanition. But you, sir, must realize that there ARE no effective medicaments available. So abandon that course of action, or accustom yourself to seeing your brother in this condition.” Ralston’s hand went to smooth his mustachios. “What I AM advocating is the regimen prescribed by Dr. Brehmer.”

A queer expression came and went on Jarrod’s features, one that Nick couldn’t quite define. “But are there any American sanatoria at all?” Jarrod asked. “From your lecture last month it sounded as if they’re all European.”

“I know of no adequate facility in the States as yet,” Ralston conceded. “But unless I miss my guess yours is a family of certain…means, yes? As such, a voyage to the European continent should not pose an insurmountable obstacle.”

“True,” Jarrod said quietly. But to Nick’s eyes he didn’t look happy. “Is that all, then? Do you have any instructions aside from that?”

Ralston sighed. “Stop these ineffective remedies immediately, of course. They do no good, and may in fact do harm if prolonged. Your brother must rest, outdoors if possible. Fresh air, a healthy diet, and no excitement! Those are the building stones of recovered health.

“In any case, he should not stay in this city any longer than absolutely necessary. And this one is better than most! The sea breezes blow some of the foulness from the air. But clean air is best.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Jarrod said, nodding. “We appreciate your time.”

Nick goggled at him. “That’s it? That’s all?”

“Nick –“

“No! I’m gonna say my piece! You mean we brought him all the way here –- in his condition -– just to find out we shoulda done nothing at all?” Nick snorted and flung up his hands. “Might as well have stayed home!”

Jarrod’s eyes were flinty. “We can discuss the details later, Nicholas,” he said in a crisp tone. “Let’s see to Heath first, all right?”

Nick glared at him, but finally gave a curt nod.

Chapter 16

He awoke at mid-afternoon, his head pounding and mouth dry as toast. Squinting, Heath reached for the glass at his bedside and poured himself some water. It tasted flat and salty, but he drank it down thirstily.

It was only after finishing a second glassful that he realized he couldn’t remember doing anything today. Had he slept all day, then? What on God’s holy name was in that medicine? He cast a wary eye at the canisters on the table.

And then it penetrated the fog in his mind, the time. Nearly three-thirty, and he had to go for his treatment at four every day for a week.

He nearly fell getting out of bed, feet tangling in the coverlet, but he righted himself and grabbed the first shirt and pants he could find. A glance in the glass showed him hair that he already knew wouldn’t be tamed, so he ran a comb through it and shrugged. It’d do. If Miss Blackwell didn’t like it, well, nothing for it.

He spared a second to wonder why he’d immediately thought of her, and then decided it might be best to focus on getting downstairs without falling and breaking his neck first.

That goal reached, he found the remainder of his family in Jarrod’s dark, comfortable sitting room, to a one looking startled at his entrance.

“Heath,” Victoria exclaimed with a smile. “You’re up.”

“Can’t tarry, Mother, I’m late.” He stuck his arms in the sleeves of his coat. “Why didn’t you all wake me?”

“Wake you for what?” Nick rumbled. “Where’s the fire?”

Heath adjusted his collar and shot his cuffs. “S’posed to have a treatment twice every day. And I done missed this morning’s already.”

Jarrod’s brow creased in a frown. “Heath, you aren’t going to Dr. Jeffries, are you? You heard what Ralston said this morning. It’s –-“

“Ralston?” Heath frowned back at him. Then his mouth sagged open. “Did I miss that one too? Boy howdy, folks, I am some –-“

“Heath, we went,” Nick said sharply. “Or, well, Jarrod and I went and dragged you along. You don’t remember, do you? Damn that stuff you’re taking! Wiping your brain clean.”

Heath gazed at him, and then shook his foggy head. “Jarrod, you keep any horses? I’m gonna have to –-“

“Easton can fetch you a cab.” The quizzical expression hadn’t left Jarrod’s face. “But there’s truly no need, don’t you see? Dr. Ralston says these treatments are for all intents and purposes useless.”

“Didn’t feel that way yesterday. Reckon that air she had me breathe did about the only good I seen so far.”

“She?”

“I suspect he means Miss Blackwell,” Victoria told him dryly. “Dr. Jeffries’ associate.”

“Look, I ain’t got time to sit here jawin’ about it,” Heath said. He drew a breath to add something and coughed sharply. Waving a hand, he added, “Just –- get that cab –- wouldja?”

With his family still uttering various forms of protest, Heath went outside, shivering in the damp sea air. A moment later Nick joined him, wearing his coat. When Heath looked his question at him Nick shrugged. “Whatever you do, you’re not doin’ it alone,” he said, stuffing his hands in his gloves. “Damn, got cold out here.”

The cab showed up finally, although Heath’s estimate said he’d be late regardless. Inside the cab, he sighed, and then covered his mouth to cough.

“You know, that Ralston fellow, the one you don’t remember.” Nick leaned his elbow against the window frame. “He says fresh air’s the ticket. Just thinkin’, you said something about fresh air to me a while ago. Said it’d help.”

“Way I remember it,” Heath returned, drawing a long breath, “you said I was wrong at the time.”

“Now I didn’t say you were wrong. Don’t you go puttin’ words in my mouth.”

“Might as well have.”

“Not the same thing.”

Heath looked at him, and coughed again.

“Besides, had to get a look at this lady doctor of yours.” A quirky smile crept over Nick’s lips. “Must be somethin’, if you’re dragging your carcass out to see her.”

“Not goin’ to see her,” Heath said thickly. “Treat -– ment.”

“Uh huh. Tell me another one.”

“Ain’t –- lyin’.”

“Ain’t telling all the truth, either.”

Heath settled for coughing, and wasn’t too sorry right at that moment to be doing it.

Nick smiled again, and laid a hand on Heath’s shoulder. “Tell you what, you were somethin’ else this morning, Heath. Now I’ve seen you in your cups a few times –- not that often, but more than once –- but I never seen you like that. Would have been funny if we hadn’t’ve had to nearly carry you everyplace.”

Heath frowned, turning to stare out the window. “Can’t remember none of it,” he said quietly. “Don’t think I like that.”

“Didn’t do much but stagger around and then sleep. Believe me, I’d tell you if you’d done something really funny.”

“Reckon you would at that.”

“Between you and me? I don’t much care for that Ralston person.” Nick sounded more intent now, and Heath looked over at him. “Ask me, he’s way too sure of just how important he is. The way he talked about this treatment and that doctor, was like listening to someone evangelizing.”

Heath shrugged. “Reckon that’s all right, long as it works. You think it’d work?”

Nick had taken off his gloves in the cab, and now flicked one restlessly against his thigh. “He pretty much says do nothing,” he said slowly. “And I confess that sticks in my craw. But seeing you like you were this morning –-“ He shook his head. “Hate to think of you like that, Heath. I don’t think that spray stuff did anything but make you sleep, and from where I sit that isn’t a treatment. Just -– an excuse.”

“Excuse?”

“Something that other doc gave you because he didn’t know what else to do. I mean, if you’re sleepin’ it isn’t like you’re gonna complain.”

Gazing at him, Heath couldn’t think of a way to deny it. He looked away instead, focusing back outside the window.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Any better?”

Heath looked up and smiled. “Yes’m, reck –- I think so. Thank you kindly.”

Miss Blackwell didn’t quite smile, but her lips turned up the tiniest bit. “Your color is much improved,” she said, stowing the tubes neatly away. “The oxygen treatments seem to make quite a difference for you. How is your cough? Have you noticed any improvement?”

He thought about lying, just because. But he couldn’t. “No, ma’am. Not so’s I can tell.”

“Ah, well. It is only your second day, after all. And you missed this morning.”

There was no trace of censure in her voice, but he sat up a little straighter anyway. “Sorry about that. I -- Well –-“ It occurred to him that he didn’t really want to tell her –- or Jeffries -– that he’d been to see another doctor, even if he couldn’t remember the visit.

“Were you too ill to travel?”

He wanted to think the concern in her eyes was personal, but couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it. “Well, one of the sprays the doc give me -- Can’t say I remember much about this morning, if you want the truth.”

Miss Blackwell gave a slow nod. “You may be especially sensitive to it,” she remarked, continuing to watch him. “I would recommend a smaller dose, perhaps building up to it.”

“Yes’m.” He looked down, and then back at her. “Can -- May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Jarrod -- He’s my brother, oldest brother. Last month he heard a doctor talk about other treatments for the consumption.”

“Ah. Dr. Ralston, I assume.” She took a seat nearby, the same one Victoria had occupied the day before. Her expression was cautious. “I attended that lecture as well.”

Nodding, Heath swallowed. “Reckon –- there’s any truth to it? What he says about fresh air and the like?”

Miss Blackwell nibbled her lower lip for a moment, brows drawn together in what Heath thought was a most fetching frown. “Dr. Ralston’s ideas are…quite sensational,” she told him slowly. “Was he the reason you missed your treatment this morning?”

Heath nodded, feeling his cheeks flushing. “Can’t say I remember much of it, though,” he added. “Mostly what my brothers told me after.”

“Mr. Barkley.” Miss Blackwell glanced down at her hands. When she looked up again her expression was composed, but her eyes seemed worried. “I can only speak on the matter off the record, as it were,” she began carefully. “My associate, Dr. Jeffries, does not think well of Dr. Ralston’s methods.”

“You agree with him?”

“Which, Jeffries or Ralston?” she asked with a flash of a smile.

“Either one, I reckon.”

She sighed, and he missed her smile when it faded quickly as it had appeared. “On the face of it I can see nothing –- amiss -– with the idea of fresh air and a clean environment. I have been taught that close quarters and miasmas provide a nourishing atmosphere for contagion, and so to be free of that is certainly beneficial. As are a healthy diet and plenty of rest.” She shifted a little, reaching up to tuck a stray tendril of dark hair behind her ear. In contrast to her very fair cheeks, her hands were red and chapped-looking. “But Dr. Ralston’s suggestion of an outright cure is, I think, perhaps premature. It seems to me rash to promise such things.”

Heath nodded. “Jarrod says that doc thinks these medicines won’t do me any good. Might even do some harm.”

“Opium, it is true, will only disguise your pain, not rid you of the cause of it.” Now her eyes were distinctly unhappy. “I believe no one of any substantial medical training would say otherwise. As to the other medicament -–“ She paused, and then shrugged. “I’m certain if it were capable of causing real harm, Dr. Jeffries would not have prescribed it.”

“And will it help?”

She was silent a long moment. Her subsequent shrug was eloquent.

“This stuff here -–“ He gestured at the equipment around them. “This air you got me breathing, it does feel some better.”

“Then we should continue it, don’t you think?”

He allowed a nod. “Sorry if I stepped on your toes, askin’ you about Ralston and all that.” He sighed, and fought down the urge to cough. “Felt funny, askin’ at all.”

“My concern is for your restored health, Mr. Barkley,” Miss Blackwell said. “But you must remember, I am not yet a medical doctor. Merely a student. I cannot advise you in any other capacity.”

“I respect that, ma’am.”

She sat back, smoothing her skirt with her chapped hands. “Then I will see you in the morning, sir?”

He smiled awkwardly. “Yes’m. Won’t forget this time.”

Her smile warmed her features. “I will look forward to it.”

“So’ll I.”

Nick paced impatiently in the outer waiting area, glowering at Heath when he caught sight of him. “About time there. You all done?”

“Yep.” Heath turned to glance at Miss Blackwell. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

“No thanks needed,” she said quietly.

“Oh, this is my brother. Nick Barkley. Nick, this here’s Miss Blackwell.”

“Pleasure, ma’am.” Nick’s acute gaze took her in. “Appreciate what you’re doing for Heath here.”

She gave him a cordial nod, and glanced once more at Heath before ducking back through the office door.

Outside, Nick paused to give Heath a look. “You do look better.”

“Thanks.”

“Although I wonder if it’s the air or that pretty doctor lady done it.”

“Think it’s the air,” Heath said mildly.

“Oh, do you.” Nick grinned. “But even you gotta admit, doesn’t hurt when your doctor looks like that.”

“She ain’t a doctor, not yet.” But he relented, meeting Nick’s teasing gaze. “I reckon she’s mighty pretty, though,” he admitted, unable to hide his own smile.

Nick shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels a little. “Way she looked at you up there, seemed she was a bit taken with you, too.”

“Doubt that.”

“Why?”

Heath’s smile faded. He took a few steps to the curb, glancing down the street for passing cabs. “Don’t reckon she’d be interested in a consumptive, Nick,” he said calmly. “Ain’t like she doesn’t know what’s to come.”

“What’s to come,” Nick shot back, “is your getting well, and movin’ on. Understood?”

Regarding him, Heath nodded slowly. “Hope that’s true, brother,” he said softly.

“Won’t hear otherwise.”

Heath nodded again, and stuck his hand out to flag down an empty cabriolet.

Chapter 17

The week passed quickly. Victoria purchased everything on her own short list the first three days, although it took Audra considerably more time. There was little discussion of Heath’s situation aside from the need for his twice-daily treatments at Dr. Jeffries’ office. Although Victoria wasn’t sure Dr. Ralston’s words weren’t correct -– certainly about the opium -– she made no further comment about the oxygen treatments. Heath’s color was better after, and he seemed content, and that was enough for the moment.

On the afternoon of their sixth day in San Francisco, she was pleased when Heath accepted her suggestion of a walk, and found herself arm-in-arm with her youngest son, enjoying a nicely temperate day.

“Did you get everything you wanted?” she asked him, bending to avoid a low-hanging tree branch. “Shopping, I mean?”

“Wasn’t that much.” He detoured them around a muddy section of the road. “Reckon when Nick showed up he lost his chance.” He smiled, and she smiled back.

“We should see you fitted for a couple of suits tomorrow. They won’t be finished before we leave, but either Jarrod can pick them up later or we’ll have them sent back to the ranch.”

“Already got that new suit.”

“Properly fitted ones,” she told him, squeezing his arm.

“All righty.”

They walked on, and Victoria inhaled the sea air with relish. “Shall I offer a penny for your thoughts?” she asked quietly. “Or do you feel like talking about it?”

He looked at her, and then forward again. “Not real sure,” he replied after a long pause. “Mother, I feel all right. If I didn’t cough, wouldn’t know I was sick at all. And feelin’ all right –-“ He broke off, shrugging. “Hard to say what I should do next.”

“You look so much better,” she told him. “And I think you might have gained a pound or two. How much of that do you think is due to getting so much rest and relaxation here in the city?”

“I see what you’re gettin’ at.” A little smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Don’t think I don’t.”

Victoria laughed. “I know you do. But you haven’t answered me. Here you’ve had ample rest, good food -- And we can all see the difference. I’m almost afraid to go home. To see you shoulder a burden your body can’t support right now.”

She heard him swallow, and then cough absently. His color, though, remained good. “Just can’t rightly see my way right now, Mother,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t know what I should do.”

“Do you feel better? Truly?”

“Reckon I feel about the best I been for some time now, yep.”

She gave a slow nod. “And you’re bored, aren’t you?” she asked softly.

“Pretty much. I ain’t used to sittin’ around. Reckon it ain’t -– isn’t in my nature. Always worked, since I was a kid. Work’s all I know. And I don’t mind it,” he added swiftly, when she drew a breath. “I like keepin’ busy. I like what I do. Wouldn’t have it otherwise.”

She covered his hand with her own, leaning against him slightly as they walked. “And now we’re asking you to give that up,” she agreed. “But not entirely, Heath. Perhaps just temporarily.”

He was silent so long, she feared another black mood descending. But when he finally spoke, he sounded calm enough. “That doc, the Ralston feller -- He thinks I better go to one of those sana-whatsits. Ain’t any in the US, though, not yet.”

“How do you feel about that?”

His mouth grew pinched, and she had her answer. “Just don’t see how I can’t do the same thing here, and not have to go to the ends of the earth,” he replied in a low voice.

“If you go, Heath, you wouldn’t go alone. I promise you that.”

He glanced at her. “How do you figure?”

“Well, I don’t know.” She shrugged, keeping her tone airy. “Audra should have a European tour, I think. And Jarrod’s always wanted to go back. Nick’s never been.”

“Now Mother, I know them two don’t have time to go gallivantin’ around while –-“

“Hush. And I’ll go, of course.”

“You?”

She met his startled eyes and nodded. They’d come to the end of the decent road, and now stood in the stark shadow of a battered elm, with a good view of the city. “I haven’t traveled in some time,” she said, turning to gaze out at the vista. “Not really. Audra would need a chaperone, and I won’t have you stranded in Germany or wherever it is you’d be going, without a member of your family.” She glanced at him, seeing the feeble light of hope in his blue eyes. “It can be done, Heath,” she told him gently. “All manner of things can be done. It simply takes planning.”

He gave a slow, surprised nod. “I never – never figured on bein’ anyplace but around here, rest of my life,” he said after a long moment. “Done some travelin’ myself, I guess. Was a time when I never stayed anyplace longer than a few months or so. Went where the work was, after the war. Never did think I’d go further than that, though.”

“Audra would say it’s an adventure. And I think she’d be right, Heath. If you choose to view it that way.”

“Maybe so.”

“We should turn back. It’s getting cooler.”

“Yep.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Supper was a quiet affair. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was tired, and it seemed the rest of the family might be as well. No one spoke much, or ate with much appetite, even though Heath thought the food was mighty good.

He didn’t linger for drinks in the sitting room after, either. His talk with Victoria stuck with him, and he had a lot to think about, so he excused himself, assuring them that yes, he felt all right, but yes, he was a bit tuckered out. Just going up to sit and maybe read a bit.

Nick, of course, soon shadowed him. Heath had just settled down with one of the novels from Jarrod’s downstairs library, when a voice said, “You talk with Mother?”

Heath glanced at him and nodded. “Did.”

Nick came in and took a seat in the chair by the window. “And?” he prodded gruffly.

“Talked a bit about me goin’ away.”

Nick said nothing to that, but his expression darkened until he looked away, out the window.

“Heard it yourself,” Heath added carefully. “That doctor said wasn’t much else gonna help. Not really.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Didn’t figure you did.”

“It’s too far. All the way over there in Europe. What’ll you do if you need us?”

Meeting his aggrieved gaze, Heath gave a helpless shrug. “Mother says she’ll come, too. And maybe Audra.”

“And if something happens? What then?”

“I’ll get by, Nick. Always have.”

Nick’s mouth turned down in an unhappy scowl. “That was before,” he said sharply. “You weren’t a member of this family then. Now you are. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let you just –- go away like this and not say my piece.”

Heath allowed a tiny smile. “Sayin’ it right now, aren’t you?”

“Not even half.” But Nick’s fervor eased a tiny bit. He shrugged limply. “Damn it, Heath, just isn’t right,” he continued in a low voice. “What if they don’t do right by you? How’ll you help yourself if you’re sick in some country where they don’t even speak honest English? I tell you, the thought rankles. It rankles bad.”

It was nothing Heath hadn’t been thinking himself, and to hear it stated so bluntly felt uncomfortable. “Yep,” he murmured.

“Now why can’t you just –- do the same things, only at home where we can see to you? Fresh air, we have, and food and good company. What do they have that we don’t?” Heath said nothing, and after a long moment Nick sighed. “Reckon I can guess,” he added.

“What?”

Nick didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Because at home you won’t really rest. You’ll try, but then something’ll come up. And you’ll say, Aw, I’m fine, and we’ll want to believe you, and you’ll go do some work, and next thing you know you’ll take sick again.” He shook his head. “Yeah, I see it.”

“Mother said about the same. She says I won’t really rest up until I’m in a place where I don’t feel like I’m supposed to work.”

“We’re your family, Heath, and that’s your home. You know you don’t have to work, not when you’re sick.”

“No, I know that. But feelin’ it –- that’s something else.”

“Well, I won’t stand around and let you be shipped off like a damn parcel! No sir, not for a blasted second.”

Heath gave a tense nod. “What you got in mind?” He sighed. “Because Nick, you know it’s got to be you, mindin’ the ranch. You leave, and you wouldn’t rest ‘till you came back and saw everything was all right. And –-“ He held up a hand when Nick reared back. “And I don’t reckon I’d feel right about it, either. Now is or is not that ranch as much mine as it is yours?”

“Course it is,” Nick said stiffly. “You gotta ask that after all we been through?”

“Nope. Just remindin’ you. If I’m not around I’d like to know someone’s keepin’ an eye on things. Make me rest better, knowin’.”

“Jarrod could do it. Mother can do it.”

“Jarrod’s got a whole bunch of other irons in the fire. Not the same. And Mother -- Well, she sounds like she’s gonna come with me. So that won’t work, neither.”

“You know, you’re starting to sound like Jarrod there, yourself,” Nick said, snorting.

Heath shrugged. “If you mean I’m making sense, I don’t mind it. You know I’m right. Now you just gotta admit it.”

Nick said nothing at first. And then, softly, he said, “I can see the right of it. I suppose. But I don’t like it. And I won’t like it. Might as well know that right now.”

“Fair enough.” Heath made himself nod. “Can’t say I’m overly fond of it myself. Just -– not sure there’s any other way to go about it, Nick. I been thinkin’ a lot about it here lately. A whole lot.”

“Me, too.”

They sat in silence for a time. And then Nick stirred and stood. “Guess I oughta let you rest.”

“Reckon so.”

“Good night, Heath.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I think you should return next month. Especially if you see a recurrence of your symptoms, such as the breathlessness, or if you find yourself losing more weight.”

Heath nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir. Anything else?”

Jeffries gave him a beaming smile. “No, Mr. Barkley, you seem to be faring much better since you came to my office a week ago. Using your medications as needed?”

“Reckon so.” He didn’t mention that he hadn’t touched them in days. Wasn’t going to, either, not unless –- but he didn’t know what that situation might be. No. No medicine.

“Then I see no reason why you shouldn’t return home. But I should remind you: Rest is essential. No undue stress!”

“Yessir.”

Jeffries held out his hand, and Heath shook it. “It’s been a real pleasure meeting you, Mr. Barkley,” Jeffries said warmly. “Please take care of yourself, now.”

“Will do.”

Outside Jeffries’ office he nearly ran into Miss Blackwell. She was clearly in a hurry, rushing up the stairs, and the crisp wind outside had put roses of color in her pale cheeks. She gave a little laugh as they each caught their balance.

“Mr. Barkley! Did you see Dr. Jeffries?”

He touched his hat and nodded, and felt his own cheeks getting a little warm. “Yes’m. He says I can go home now.”

Her expression fell a little, although she nodded, too. “Yes, you do seem to be doing ever so much better. I’m glad.”

“Me, too.”

She bit her lip awkwardly. “And what do you plan next? Will you be going to take a sanatorium cure?”

“Not sure what I’m gonna do, if you want the truth.” He paused. “I sure do thank you for your help this week.”

“It’s what I do, Mr. Barkley,” she said softly, but the roses in her cheeks got redder. “But you’re very welcome.”

He gave an uncertain nod. “I -- Good luck with your schoolin’, too. Reckon you’re gonna make a fine doctor.”

Her blue eyes twinkled. “Even if I am a woman?” she asked in a teasing voice.

“No, ma’am, that ain’t why.” He shifted a little, and found a hesitant smile on his own lips. “Don’t see as how that makes much difference, from what I can see.”

“I appreciate that.” Her cool fingers touched his wrist lightly. “Take care of yourself, Mr. Barkley,” she added urgently. “I will pray that the sanatorium cures you.”

“Thank you, ma’am, I appreciate that.”

“Sarah,” she said softly. “Please call me Sarah.”

He gave an awkward nod. “Sarah, then. I’m Heath.”

“Heath.” Their eyes met, and then she quickly disengaged her hand. “I’m glad I saw you before you left.”

“Me, too. You suppose –-“ He broke off and swallowed.

“What?”

“Suppose if I were to write you from –- wherever it is I end up -- Suppose that’d be all right?”

A smile broke over her features, as clear and radiant as the rising sun. “I suppose,” she agreed, and gave another laugh. “I would like that very much. Heath.”

He grinned. “Me, too. Sarah.”

She ducked her head a little, but not enough that he couldn’t see her blush had deepened again. “I should go. I’m late.”

“All right. You take care now.”

“You, too.”

“Well. Bye, then.”

“Bye.”

But he waited for her to mount the steps and disappear through the door, glancing over her shoulder at him, before he finally turned and waved at a passing cab.

Chapter 18

She had an odd feeling the morning of their departure. A prickling, somewhere at the back of her neck, an inkling, perhaps. She wasn’t ever sure what it was, exactly, but before she went down to the breakfast table she knew something had changed.

Seeing Heath’s gray, tired face told her she was right.

“Good morning,” Victoria said, offering a short smile to her family as she sat.

“Good morning, Mother.” Jarrod put down his coffee cup. “Sleep well?”

“Quite well. How is everyone?”

Nick grunted, and she remembered he hadn’t been back from wherever it was he’d gone before she went to bed. Now he looked tired and grumpy. Audra was perfectly turned out already, but also quiet; probably unhappy to go back to the slower pace of the valley.

And Heath. Victoria smiled at him and was heartened to see his wan smile in return. “Are you feeling all right, dear?” she couldn’t help asking.

He shrugged, and visibly thought about his reply before saying, “Bit tired, I reckon.”

Victoria nodded slowly. “Do you feel up to traveling today? Would you like to put it off a day or two?”

“Nope. Ready to get on home.”

“So am I, dear.”

But a few minutes of watching him pick at his food without appetite and Victoria found her own hunger vanished as well. Her other children weren’t immune to the feeling, either, she saw; Jarrod looked distinctly unhappy, rattling the morning paper with more vigor than was absolutely necessary and flicking frequent looks at his wan youngest brother. Nick mumbled something about a bath a few minutes into the meal, and disappeared up the stairs.

They all followed him soon after, since everyone had to pack but Jarrod, who would be staying in San Francisco another week or two for business. Victoria paused by Heath’s room, watching him trudge inside and sit on the edge of the unmade bed.

“Why don’t you lie down for a moment?” she asked him. “Our train doesn’t leave for several hours yet.”

He considered it, and then nodded. “Just for a minute or two, though. Gotta pack.”

But he was asleep almost immediately, and so she pulled the coverlet up over him and watched for a moment, and then began folding the shirts in his wardrobe.

She finished packing all his things except his ditty bag, since he’d no doubt want a shave before they departed, and then went to the room she was sharing with Audra to see to her own bags.

Finally there was nothing left to be done, and still two hours until their train left. She went back downstairs and found Jarrod, Nick, and Audra in the sitting room. Nick seemed recovered from his unknown adventures, but no one was smiling.

“Heath asleep?” Nick asked her.

She nodded. “I’ll wake him in half an hour or so. He seemed very tired this morning, and I suppose he was.”

Jarrod shifted and uncrossed his legs. “I suppose we should talk about our plans.”

“Are you sure you want to stay, Jarrod?” Audra asked. She was wearing one of her new dresses, garnet-colored wool with a matching ribbon in her hair. The color was flattering. “I wish you’d come back with us.”

“I have court dates this week and next.” Jarrod shook his head. “I can’t, I’m afraid. But I haven’t taken any new cases, so I should be able to return by the first of February.” He looked at Victoria. “So it’s decided? Heath will go abroad for this treatment?”

Considering her words carefully, Victoria replied, “I think he’s worried, but sees the value in it. Potential value, I should say. We haven’t talked about specifics, though. When he would leave, and so on.”

Jarrod nodded. “We’ll need to check schedules, and book his passage. Mother, are you accompanying him?”

Nick looked thunderous, but Victoria nodded. “I won’t send him away alone. It’s a very long journey as it is; he can’t undertake it by himself. He could sicken during the voyage.” She drew a long breath. “I thought Audra could accompany us, as well.”

“Me?” Audra gave her a wide-eyed look, and then clapped her hands in delight. “Going to Europe? Oh, Mother!”

Smiling, Victoria reached out and patted Audra’s knee. “It’s not all decided yet, dear. But if we can make some arrangements, then yes. I think it would be a grand opportunity.”

“One of us needs to come with you,” Nick said in a sharp voice. “Make sure everything’s all right.”

“Why don’t we decide that later?” Victoria asked neutrally. “He wouldn’t leave until at least March.”

Jarrod looked over at Nick. “You’ll be at your busiest. It can’t be you.”

“You, then. Surely the crooks can get by without you for a few weeks.”

Jarrod gave a tiny smile. “Perhaps.”

Victoria stirred. “Jarrod, if you’d look into dates for us, I would appreciate that. It would give us a better framework for planning.”

“Consider it done.”

They said no more about it, although Victoria thought the mulish look in Nick’s eyes promised more conflict later. However, today she put it out of her mind, focusing on more immediate concerns.

~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t look any happier about this than I feel.”

Jarrod glanced over his shoulder. Nick himself looked drawn and saddened, not surprisingly. With a curt nod Jarrod turned back to his tie, watching Nick in the mirror. “I’m a bit surprised,” Jarrod said after a moment.

“At what?”

“Between us?”

“Of course.”

“Heath and I spoke, the night he and the others arrived. He’d been so – moody, I suppose: bleak. When I asked him about it, he expressed some…concern about the sanatoria.” He met Nick’s narrowed eyes squarely. “He was afraid we’d send him away.”

“Send him?” Nick turned and paced away, boot heels clicking sharply on the floor. “Like that would ever happen!” He turned back, revealing a flushed face. “This is why I think this whole thing’s a rotten idea. Heath’s scared we’re trying to get rid of him. Those doctors -–“ Nick paused and snorted eloquently. “They can’t even agree among themselves what the hell is best to do! Jarrod, Mother’s out there planning some –- European tour, and we don’t even know that Heath would make it through the journey!”

Jarrod had finished dressing during Nick’s tirade, and now smoothed his lapels absently, mind working. “I agree,” he said when Nick didn’t continue.

“You do?” The surprise in Nick’s voice was palpable. “But -- But this was your idea! This Ralston fellow!”

“I know that,” Jarrod replied with a nod. “And I think his methods bear consideration. But in Heath’s case -–“ He paused, and then shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s the best course.”

Nick huffed a deep sigh. “Heath -- Think he liked that first doc. Can’t figure that out. None of those medicines did a lick of good.”

“Heath likes the idea that a treatment might be found,” Jarrod said gently. “And who could blame him? Jeffries promised results, and quickly. Heath wanted to believe it was true.”

“And now?”

Jarrod raised his eyebrows. “Now? I have no idea, Nick. I think there are no easy answers. And I think Dr. Ralston’s ideas hold more promise than Jeffries’ opium atomizers.”

Nick’s expression turned tragic. “We can’t send him away,” he said, all scorn gone from his tone. “We can’t just -– let him go like that, Jarrod. Not and let him think -–“

“Then we have to do everything we can to make sure Heath knows -– truly knows -– this is not exile,” Jarrod interrupted. “It may feel that way, and I’m sure it will at times. But the alternative is all too clear. Nick, Heath will die if nothing is done. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but that is a fact.”

Nick stood very still, and after a long moment gave a reluctant nod. “You talk a lot, but you always did know how to cut to the chase, didn’t you?” There was no humor in his voice; he sounded throttled.

“Sometimes the bare facts speak for themselves.” Jarrod stepped closer to him and reached out to clasp his shoulder. “It’s Heath’s decision, Nick,” he said gently. “Once he knows we will support any choice he makes, once he knows this is not abandonment -- Then he’ll tell us how to proceed.”

“What if he still doesn’t want to go?” Nick’s eyes were bleak.

“Then he won’t go.”

“And he’ll die.”

“It’s likely.”

“Damn it,” Nick whispered.

“I know.” Jarrod sighed, and gave Nick’s shoulder another squeeze before releasing him. “Let me speak with him, Nick. He’s spoken honestly with me before. Maybe he’ll be candid again.”

“You gonna talk sense to him? May be his decision, but –“

“I won’t say anything to him that I haven’t said to you, or Mother, already. I’m not trying to influence him. Just grasp his thoughts.”

After a long moment Nick gave a slow nod.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Making his way down to Heath’s room, however, Jarrod wondered if he could listen to Heath without wanting to put in his own two cents. As little as he liked the idea of Heath traveling to all ends of the earth in search of his elusive cure, he liked the idea of him doing it after coercion even less.

He found Heath sitting in the chair by the window, dressed and ready to go, and Jarrod was struck by the similarities to their first talk, a week gone. Heath glanced over at Jarrod’s entrance, a wispy smile on his lips.

“Time to go?” he asked, moving to stand.

Jarrod shook his head. “Not quite yet.” He walked over to stand next to him, gazing out the window. “Turned cold this morning, I see.”

“Yep. Listen, Jarrod, wanted to thank you for lettin’ us all stay with you like this. Appreciate it.”

Jarrod glanced at him. “You’re my family,” he replied simply. “Where else would you stay?”

Heath nodded. “Reckon so.”

“Heath.” Jarrod leaned his shoulder against the window frame, sliding his hands in his pockets. “When you first arrived, we spoke -– much like we are now. I feel as though you were able to be honest with me about your thoughts. And I’d very much like to know if you still feel that way.”

Heath’s eyes were tired, but sharper than Jarrod expected. “Reckon you want to know what I’m gonna do,” he observed with a short nod.

“I want you to know that it’s your decision. And,” he added after a brief pause, “that we will support that decision, no matter what it is.”

Faint color appeared in Heath’s wan cheeks. He looked away, staring once more out the window. “Appreciate that.”

During the long silent moment that followed, Jarrod bit back the urge to nudge Heath into conversation. Heath gave the impression of thought, his brow furrowed and blue eyes looking but not seeing much. And finally he sighed. “I just ain’t sure, Jarrod,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “And that’s a fact.”

Jarrod sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. “There aren’t any clear answers,” he agreed gently. “Reminds me of a case recently. My client, Sam Bernhardt. He’s –-“

“The one you talked about when you come back from Frisco last month.” Heath spared him a quick, sharp glance. “I remember.”

“Just so.” Jarrod swallowed. “It was a difficult case, to put it mildly. Sam Bernhardt was accused of murdering his wife. There were complications, though. For one, he had suspected for some time that she was involved with another man. There were those in the city who insisted that a man catching his wife with another man was justified in anything he did as a result. But if indeed a lover existed, no one ever found him. There were no witnesses to the actual crime. Bernhardt had an alibi, albeit a weak one. And the murder weapon was never found, either. The police suspected a Bowie knife had been used, but Mr. Bernhardt didn’t own one. He was a bank clerk; he had no obvious need for one.”

Heath had been listening acutely; now he nodded. “So he was innocent?”

“I had to approach the case believing so, yes. He was my client, after all.” Jarrod sighed. “It helped me to compartmentalize, if you will -– to stack up the evidence in two categories: those that confirmed my client’s innocence, and those that seemed to refute same. It was the only way to see past the profusion of conflicting evidence.” He paused to breathe deep. “Your situation is complicated, Heath,” he continued levelly. “There is no way to change that. There are never any black-and-white guarantees, you see? We’re lucky when our course is clear; it so rarely is, in life.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Heath gave a slow nod.

“All I’m suggesting is that you consider one thing.”

“And that is?”

“Focus your thoughts beyond the here and now. See where you would like to be, a year from now. Envision your goal. Do you have one?”

Heath drew on his upper lip for a moment, face twisted with thought. “Can’t see much, except I’d truly like to be well again. That’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Precisely. Now what remains is seeing -– and doing -– what it takes to reach that goal.”

“You make it sound simple. It ain’t, Jarrod.”

“I know that. But how else can you proceed?”

“Huh.” Heath didn’t nod, but raised his eyebrows. “Your client, this Bernhardt feller –- he was innocent?”

Jarrod sat back a little. “I believed so, yes. The jury found him so.”

“What if he wasn’t?”

Facing Heath’s calm probing gaze, Jarrod paused, and then nodded curtly. “I try not to think about that,” he said in a low voice.

“But you do. Don’t you?”

“Occasionally.”

Heath’s gaze left him, returning to study the vista outside the window. “What if my decision ain’t the right one?” he asked softly.

“It will be.”

“Wish I could be so sure.”

“I’ve often wished the same myself.”

“Reckon you have.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Victoria tapped on Heath’s door, she found him fully dressed and waiting. “Heath, darling. We should leave soon. Jarrod has a cab waiting.”

He nodded, and stood. His expression was as bleak as she had ever seen. “All righty.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yep. Just been thinkin’.”

She studied him, took in the resolute look in his blue eyes. “You’ve decided, haven’t you?” she asked softly.

“When I stacked it all up, why --” He shrugged. “Can’t see any other way.”

“So you’ll be going.”

He nodded. “You think I’m right?”

“More importantly: do you?”

“I ain’t stayin’ forever.” His upper lip curled, unconsciously she thought. “Just long enough to get better.”

“To get well, Heath. It’s what we all want for you.”

“Reckon so.”

“Come on, darling. We should go, or we’ll miss the train.”

~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~

End Part One