by
Redwood
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.
Jarrod smiled
broadly as he opened the solid oak door of his home and noticed the gathering
of his family in the richly furnished parlour, just beyond the foyer. He caught
Nick’s eye and nodded, briefly touching the pocket of his tan jacket.
In reply, Nick
lifted his glass slightly, nodding back in his older brother’s direction.
Noticing part of
the exchange as he stood facing sideways to the room, right arm stretched along
the grey marbled mantle, Heath half turned toward Jarrod. His blue eyes
twinkled at the smile on his brother’s handsome face.
Breaking away from
the mantle, his long legs, clad in tan jeans, carried him toward the crystal
decanters on the sideboard where Jarrod and Nick were gathering. He reached out
his hand, clamping it down on Jarrod’s shoulder, and he grinned lop-sidedly
into the midnight blue eyes that turned toward him.
“Evenin’, Big
Brother,” Heath drawled.
“Good evening,
Brother Heath,” Jarrod responded, his smile taking in the blond’s fit
appearance and contented look.
He nodded at what
he saw.
“Been keeping Nick
in line today?” Jarrod asked, his eyes sweeping back to include the hazel-eyed
rancher on his other side.
Immediately, Nick
responded, “Me? He’s the one making Doc Merar eat his words about taking a long
time to heal. You should try keeping up with him! I swear, Jarrod, . . . . “
“Nicholas!” his
mother’s voice interrupted from behind them.
“Huh? Oh, yeah,”
Nick stumbled, “Sorry, Mother.”
Jarrod cut in,
turning back to the twinkling blue eyes, “What do you think, Heath? Maybe we
should rescue our brother and distract Mother from his inept attempts to hold a
civilized conversation among genteel company.”
Again, he patted
the pocket of his tan jacket.
“Sounds good,
Jarrod.”
“Hey! Wait a
minute, you two. . . ,” Nick started.
But, Jarrod cleared
his throat as he and Heath turned to face the shining presence of Victoria
Barkley, watching them from where she sat so regally in a deep green silk
dress. Following them, Nick turned as well, his swarthy smile breaking across
his face in spite of himself.
Heath moved to
stand behind Audra, who, having picked up on their excitement, was watching
them with an expectant, but puzzled expression from her seat on the grey settee
before the fireplace.
“May I offer a
toast?”
All eyes turned to
Jarrod at his words.
“To Victoria
Barkley, our Mother, and a woman with uncommon courage and unending love.”
Responses of “Hear,
hear!” and “To Mother” were echoed around the room.
Quietly, the
dark-headed lawyer walked over behind her chair and handed down a soft, deep
blue, velvet bag he had removed from his pocket. She took it from him curiously
and raised her eyes to take in the smiles of each of her sons, one at a time.
Then, with growing astonishment, she carefully loosened the blue, corded
drawstring and removed an exquisite gold necklace from the bag. Holding it up,
she said, “Oh, Jarrod!” as she admired the three sparkling stones, set as
adjacent pendants in the center of the piece.
“Not just Jarrod,
Mother,” the dark-headed lawyer corrected gently, with a glance at his grinning
brothers. “This is something the three of us did together, something we wanted
to do for you.”
Audra gasped and
leaned forward to get a closer look. “Mother, it’s gorgeous!”
Over their heads,
Jarrod winked at Heath and tossed him a smaller version of the same type bag.
“Audra,” Heath
said, prying her attention off of their mother’s necklace, “Audra, the three of
us have something for you as well, Little Sis.”
As she turned
glistening blue eyes up at him in wonder, he reached down to lift her hand,
placing the small bag in her palm.
“We love you, Sis,”
he said simply.
She slowly moved
her eyes from Heath’s face and concentrated on opening the pouch. Into her hand
fell two sparkling stones. They had been fashioned into dangling earrings in a
setting of gold.
“Oh, they’re
beautiful!” she exclaimed, looking at the red, green, and white of the gems,
her hand to her mouth. “But, they’re so unusual! What kind of stone are they?”
At her question,
both women turned to face first Jarrod, then Heath. But, it was Nick that
spoke, stepping over to them and handing each a sherry.
“Watermelon
tourmaline. And, they’re from one of Father’s old, worked out goldmines, the
one next to the lumber camp.”
“Mother,” Heath
spoke up, watching her quietly, “Before you put on the necklace, you need ta
know its history.”
Searching his face,
she turned back to Jarrod as his voice took up the story. But, as he spoke, she
noticed her oldest seemed to be keeping as close a watch on Heath’s face across
from him, as he was on hers.
“It was because of
stones like these, being brought out of the mine secretly by the Bentells, that
your stage was attacked up above Tamarack, Mother.”
She gasped as
realization struck, and her eyes turned from Jarrod’s face to meet Heath’s
eyes.
Heath nodded at her
and added to the story, “Mother, we’ve known about it all for a while now, but
wanted ta wait ‘til these were ready ta tell you.” He gestured toward the
necklace.
“Jim Reese’s
brother, Newman, found out what the Bentells were up to, an’ he sent his
partner ta steal a shipment of the stones. Once Reese had them in his
possession, he was able ta convince Bentell that he had the power ta expose
him, an’ it made his blackmail scheme a success. That’s part’a what Nick an’
Jarrod walked in on up at the camp.”
Her eyes still on
Heath’s steady blue gaze, she asked quietly, “His partner . . . his partner was
Carl Mason?”
Coming around to
sit in front of her on the marble table, Heath took Victoria’s hands in his,
the necklace enclosed between them.
“Yes. . . . When we
found out about it, we just . . . we wanted something good ta come of it all.”
The two of them looked
into each other’s eyes, both thinking of what had happened that night up in the
mountains, of the cruelty exacted against the other, and of the innocent man,
the stage driver named Ellis, that had died.
Above them, Jarrod
spoke quietly after a moment, “We want to talk to you and Audra about setting
up a contract with a lapidarier in San Diego. It’s a growing town beginning to
build a fine reputation already for its jewelry cutters and gemstone markets.
If we decide to pursue it, reworking the mine will be a fine Barkley
investment, but only,” he paused, watching her an extra second or two before
finishing, “Only if you’re comfortable with the idea of it after all that’s
happened.”
Listening to
Jarrod, she reached out and touched the side of Heath’s face, watching him
closely. “Heath, Carl Mason and Matt Bentell are both dead. His wife is in
prison for embezzlement. It’s over, finished, except for the bad memories, if
we don’t follow through with this. Will you be alright with the constant
reminders of all that happened? What do you want, Sweetheart?”
He held her gaze
with his pale blue eyes and spoke without hesitation, “I want ta know that this
family was able ta take something filled with cruelty an’ pain, an’ turn it
inta something useful----something that makes a difference.”
He smiled at her
crookedly, squeezing her hands and the necklace they held between them. “With
your agreement, Jim’ll oversee the loggin’ operations most’a the year, an’ the
mining the other part. . . . For the first time, the loggers’ll have work
durin’ the winter months, too, if they want it.”
“You mean, bringing
out the stones from the mine?” Audra spoke up from behind him with delight,
“Oh, Heath, that’s a perfect solution!”
Heath nodded, still
looking at Victoria, “We thought so, too. It’ll mean some wooden structures
have ta be constructed for the men ta live there in the winter, but, it’ll be
good ta know they have steady work if they want it”
He paused and took
a deep breath, not accustomed to making requests of them.
Looking around the
room, Heath added, “An’, if it’s okay with all of you, I’d like ta ask Ogden if
he’ll be our representative ta that part’a the operations. Someone has ta set
up the contracts, plan the shipments, . . . . He’s gettin’ on in years, an’ he
has a good head for business, as well as people. He needs some way ta
contribute that’s less . . . ”
“Physically
demanding?” Jarrod supplied, winking at Heath.
“Yes, Jarrod,
that’s it exactly. He’ll be good at it, if you all agree, . . . an’ if I can
talk him into it.”
Victoria’s grey
eyes sparkled at his enthusiasm and with the rightness of the idea. She nodded
and replied happily, “Yes, Heath, I like that plan very much. . . Jarrod?” She half turned toward him and
asked, “Can you arrange for Ogden to receive part ownership in the mine?”
Looking around at
the nodding faces, and at Heath’s slowly building, relieved smile, Jarrod
replied, “Yes, Mother. I’ll see to it in the morning.”
As Heath took the
necklace from his mother’s hands, and standing, stepped behind her to clasp it
behind her slender neck, Nick raised his glass.
“Another toast,
then. To an uncommon man and his unfailing friendship. To Ogden Haverty.”
Victoria, however,
was silent. Her eyes were full of unshed tears. Instead of reaching up to touch
the exquisite necklace now firmly fastened around her neck, embellishing the
beauty of her green silk gown, her fingertips touched her cheek where Heath had
just leaned down and placed a quiet kiss.
Her thoughts went
back to the night, almost two months ago, when she had first realized he was
withdrawing from them, that he had been pulling away for weeks, even if neither
of them had realized it at the time.
She watched him
now, and, though the conversation around her turned to mining, precious
gemstones, and jewelry, she knew that the simple act of that kiss on her cheek,
even though it was not the first she had received from him recently, even
though it had been shared quietly and with no special toast to mark it, the
sparkle in his eyes and that kiss were the parts of the evening that she would
most treasure in her heart.
Though he had
returned to the mantle and was standing there, participating quietly in Nick’s
toast to his old friend, his blue eyes had quickly turned to stare at the wood
burning brightly in the fireplace.
For a moment, he
had been thinking of the choices Cynda Bentell and her husband had made,
choices that had been made out of despair, anger, greed, and hate----choices
that had led ultimately to betrayal and several deaths.
For him, the
discussions about the mine, the lumber camp, and the stage, dredged up painful
memories. But, in the future, because of the decisions made here tonight, he
hoped that the memories would be replaced with better ones. The decisions tonight
represented the good, the potential worth treasuring, that could grow out of
choices made from love and trust-----choices made out of the security of
family.
Slowly, he lifted
his head, and as if feeling her eyes on him, he turned toward her, gave her a
lop-sided smile that made his blue eyes sparkle, and, his heart full of love
for this woman, for this family, he winked at her.
Their dinner
together had been a lively affair, the voices lifting often in animated
discussion and laughter. Now, they all walked together toward the study, Heath
and their mother arm in arm, while Jarrod and Nick each held one of Audra’s
arms tucked into one of their own as they followed behind.
Leaving Nick to
seat Audra beside their mother and to distribute drinks to each of them, Jarrod
wasted no time in crossing over to the gleaming oak of his father’s desk in the
corner of the room. Quietly, with no attention turned to him, Jarrod opened a
drawer and removed a simple leather box, as well as a smaller, more slender
item, wrapped in off-white linen and tied with a blue ribbon. He walked over to
Audra, to whom he handed the smaller parcel, then, he proceeded toward his
youngest brother, who was leaning against the mantle beneath their father’s
portrait, listening attentively to Nick.
The dark-headed
rancher had wasted no time in resuming the dinner debate, albeit one-sided,
that had begun over a half hour before with a suggestion by his quietest of
brothers.
“I just don’t think
Josh is the right one to put in charge of that crew, Heath. He doesn’t have the
experience bossing the men like Rusty does. Rusty knows how to get them to do
what has to be done!” As he talked, Nick’s hands began punctuating the air,
glass in hand.
Heath nodded
quietly, his head down as he absorbed what Nick was saying, for the third time.
Then, Jarrod had to lean in to hear him ask, “Nick, you agree that he could do
it, he just needs more experience?”
Nick nodded his
head forcefully, “Well, yeah, Heath. I said that thirty minutes ago, but I, we,
need experience out there come round-up! “
Heath looked at
Nick sideways and asked innocently, his brow furrowed as if he truly didn’t
already know the answer to his query, “How did ya’ get your experience, Big
Brother?”
Immediately, Nick
looked up at the portrait hanging above him and answered, “Father gave me small
jobs to handle along and along, followed by a few men at a time to boss while
we. . . .” Suspiciously, he trailed off and reached out to slap at Heath’s arm.
“Wait a minute, you set me up for that!”
Then, Nick
immediately smiled widely and said, “Alright, Heath, you’re right. We can
divide the crews into two groups, put Rusty in charge of the men working the
north slope and give Josh the other one. His crew can handle the area just south
of Rusty’s, close by if they need each other.”
Heath, nodding his
head again, simply said, “Good idea, Nick. I think that’ll work just fine.”
Jarrod, listening
intently, couldn’t help feel pride in both of his younger brothers. One had the
knowledge and experience to see the vast perspective of the tasks spread out
before them, just as his father had taught him. He inherently understood the
worth of planning it all out, how it all fit together. The other had the
knowledge and experience to see, not only the men and their potential, but, the
most effective way to express his views to the first, just as his life had
taught him. He seemed to innately understand the worth of each person, how each
individual fit together with the whole.
Together, and with time,
Jarrod was convinced they would forge an unbreakable, unbeatable bond that
they, along with their holdings, along with every family member, would both
benefit from immeasurably. They were already well on their way.
Then, clearing his
throat for the second time that evening, Jarrod caught the attention of
everyone in the room. Turning to Heath, who was now watching him steadily, he
said as he stood before his brothers, box tucked under his arm, “Heath, when
you and I returned from Coreyville, Nick and I talked one night about your
birthday. It seemed Nick had bought the bay for you, then realized he didn’t
even know when your birthday was, and it cut into him pretty deeply.”
Jarrod’s vivid blue
eyes left Heath’s face for a minute, then, and he looked at Nick. They gazed at
each other for a second, both drinking in the compassion that the other shared
at the memory of the pain expressed that night.
Then, Jarrod turned
back to Heath, who was watching them both.
Quietly, Heath
spoke up, “Told Nick then, an’ I’ll tell you now, Jarrod, I have everything I
need or want, Big Brother. Don’t need my birthday remembered ta know I have all
I want, right here with all of you.”
Jarrod nodded and
extended the leather tooled box to him anyway, “I know that, Heath. But, I
needed to do this. I needed to remember your birthday, and I want you to have
this. . . . I want you to know how much I respect you, how much I cannot
imagine this family without you in it. Happy belated birthday, Brother Heath.”
“Thanks, Jarrod,” Heath
replied, his heart full of emotions that his voice would not let him express.
He and Jarrod stared at each other for a long moment, each remembering what had
occurred in this room the last time Jarrod had offered him something, had
offered him money that he had refused to accept. Then, his thoughts quickly
focused on the long night they had weathered together, trying desperately to
protect each other from the threat of Matt Coulter and his men at Renegade
Rocks, weeks ago.
The silence of
their memories was broken by Nick, who clapped his hand down on Heath’s closest
shoulder and asked, “Well, aren’t you gonna open it, Boy?”
Audra immediately
said, “Yes, Heath, come over here between Mother and me. We want to see you
open it.”
Glancing around at
them, Heath blinked hard, dispelling the remnants of anger, worry, and
desperation from his memories. He moved between his sister and the low wooden
table. Each woman slid toward opposite ends of the red settee, and Audra patted
the open place between them that they had created.
Sitting down, Heath
placed the box on the table in front of them and, unlatching it, eased the lid
open. Inside, beneath an envelope, was the unmistakable burnished, engraved
metal of the highly touted Smith & Wesson No. 3 American held firmly in
place by a dark green felt liner.
Glancing up at
Jarrod’s smiling face and seeing Nick’s open curiosity, Heath picked up the
envelope, broke Jarrod’s easily recognizable, brown wax seal, and removed the
single sheet of paper from inside. When he finished reading the short note, he
handed it to Audra, and looked up at his oldest brother for a moment.
Then, he looked
back down in the box. With the envelope removed, everyone could easily see that
the pistol ensconced in the box had a specially-designed burlwood grip, with a
gold eagle, wings outstretched, inlaid into the wood. The marquetry was
exceptionally crafted, as was the gun itself.
As Heath carefully
lifted the revolver, he felt its perfect balance settle into his hand.
After hefting it a
few times, he looked up at Jarrod and said with awe in his voice, “I’ve never
seen one exactly like this. It’s a Second Model, isn’t it?” as he passed it
down to Nick to examine.
“Yes,” Jarrod
answered, pleased with the quiet tone of surprised amazement in his brother’s
voice.
Looking at it
closely, Nick whistled softly and said, “I heard that Smith & Wesson once
shipped 20,000 of these beauties to the Russian Government, an order paid for
in advance, in gold. But, I’d bet a bushel of tourmaline that none of those
pistols had an eagle inlaid into the handle like this one!”
Quietly, Heath
said, still shaking his head, “Thank you, Jarrod. I’ve never seen anything so
fine as this.”
Then, after a pause
shared between them, in which Jarrod reached across and gripped Heath’s
shoulder tightly, the blond laughed softly and added, “Boy Howdy, I can see it
was a mistake ta let Ogden anywhere near any of you. He couldn’t resist telling
ya’ one’a his Arizona horse stories, could he? Just remember, he’s old, an’ he
exaggerates. You shouldn’t believe everything he tells you.”
Eyes twinkling,
Heath gazed at each of his family members.
“Especially about
you, huh, Little Brother?” Nick quipped.
Heath just raised
one eyebrow and nodded slightly.
“The look of eagles,”
Victoria said puzzled, gesturing to Jarrod’s note, now in her hand. “I don’t
understand what those words you’ve written have to do with a horse story, but,
Audra and I’ll take that opening.”
Nodding to her
daughter, who produced the linen-wrapped gift from beneath a fold of her yellow
skirt spread out on the other end of the settee, Victoria said, “Heath, Audra
and I didn’t know tonight was going to include gifts for us from the three of
you, but Jarrod, Audra, and I did want to join Nick in not letting your
birthday go by unremembered this year.”
She reached over
and took hold of his hand. “Since you came to us, we have learned that
possessions are not something you set great store by, but we did want you to
have this. It reminded us both of you and your quiet chivalry, as soon as we
saw a copy of it at the new library the Women’s League has started.”
Unable to control
her excitement, Audra joined in, “Yes, Heath, we asked Mr. Applegate at the
Mercantile to order one for you with leather binding. It just arrived!”
She leaned toward
him, handing him the gift. He glanced at her, then, reached for his pocket
knife to cut the ribbon. But, before he could do so, Audra gave the end of it
one tug, and it fell away. He smiled lopsidedly at her. “Boy Howdy, Little Sis,
remind me ta call you the next time Nick gets himself all tangled up in the
long lines tryin’ ta lunge a colt!”
“Heath!” Nick said,
his exasperation bubbling over immediately at the teasing. “You know that’s not
how that happened!”
Jarrod and his
mother smiled at each other, both certain that Heath had found the perfect way
to keep the unaccustomed attention off of himself for a few moments.
Nick continued to
splutter.
“Nick,” Jarrod
soothed, “I’m sure there’s a story for the rest of us in there somewhere, but
for now, I for one, want to know what book the ladies have given Heath.”
Walking around to
stand behind them, Jarrod read aloud from the cover, “Le Morte D’Arthur” by Sir
Thomas Malory.
Nick whistled,
“Talk about genteel and civilized company!”
Heath ran his hands
over the smooth leather of the binding and gently opened the marbled edges of
the pages. Silently, after flipping through it a bit, he went back and read the
inscription his mother had written inside the front cover, her flowing script a
thing of beauty in itself. Then, he looked over at her with warm, blue eyes and
a lop-sided smile.
She smiled back,
and winked at him.
Then, he looked
back down at the book, his heart too full to hazard any words.
Swiftly, Audra
tucked her arm in his and reached up to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. Her
actions rescued him from the fullness of a heart that threatened to overflow in
front of them all.
“Thanks, Mother,
Audra,” he said. “I’ll treasure it always.”
Audra squeezed his
arm and asked, adeptly changing the subject, “Heath, have you named your bay
horse, yet?”
“No, Sis,” he
responded, looking down at her beside him, with a smile. This was more
comfortable territory. “I haven’t. I’m not much for fancy names, an’ nothin’
just right has come ta me. Mostly, I just call him Horse.”
“Do you mind if we
name him for you, then? Mother and I have come up with the perfect name.”
His dark eyebrows
raised worriedly, Jarrod exchanged glances with Nick and spoke up, “Look out,
Heath. She once had a pony named Gingerbread.”
Immediately, Nick
piped up, “Yeah, and a big, brown dog she insisted on calling Daffodil. I’d be
careful what you promise her, Heath.”
“Oh, you two,”
Audra huffed slightly, annoyed by their words, “You wouldn’t know a good name
for a horse if it kicked you in the. . . .”
“AUDRA!”
“Well, they
wouldn’t! Besides, I was just going to say,” Audra trailed off again at her
mother’s narrow-eyed glare.
Victoria continued
to gaze at her beautiful daughter, the rough-and-tumble tomboy barely hidden
behind the demure design of the bright yellow dress.
“Well, anyway,
Heath, it was Mother’s idea. She thought of it.”
All of the male
eyes in the room turned to the lovely, silver-haired woman sitting on the other
side of Heath, her hands now wrapped around his arm, clutching him to her.
They waited for her
to answer, but it was obvious that whatever the suggested name was, it had
great significance to her. She was looking at Heath, her eyes brimming with
unshed tears.
Quietly, he said,
his eyes on her glistening grey, “I’d be honored for you ta name my horse,
Mother, as long as Nick doesn’t object. He gave him ta me.”
Nick quickly shook
his head. Never in all of his years as the son of a rancher had he heard his
mother express interest in naming any of the endless parade of animals they had
befriended as children. She had always left that to them. Even when it came to
naming her own horse, she had allowed Audra to come up with something
appropriate.
“Heath, it’s been
over a month, but that day, by the bridge, well, it was a sight I’ll remember
forever, even if I live to be one hundred.” She turned slightly to face him,
but her eyes took a second to include each of them as she told about it,
describing it to them for the first time from her perspective.
“You came riding
along the river at a full gallop, over ground that was much more suitable for
letting the horse pick its way carefully. Your rifle was blazing, and, even
though you looked as rough-edged as I’ve ever seen you, . . . to me, you also
looked like an avenging knight riding in on a fiery steed . . . to rescue me.”
She took a deep
breath and raised her voice a little to ensure everyone’s attention and to add
a touch of ceremony to the events of the evening.
“Heath Barkley, in
honor of all you did for me that day, and as a promise to you that we will
always hold the trust you’ve placed in us as dear as our love for you, I would
like to propose a toast.”
Nick, having seen
her reach for her glass a moment before, handed Heath the one he had left on
the high mantle above the flickering fireplace and picked up his own.
Then, his mother
lifted her glass of sherry and, joined by Jarrod and Audra with theirs, said,
“I propose a toast to the magnificent steed bestowed by one brother on another,
and suggest that we call him, from this day forward, Charger, after those proud
animals the knights of old once rode into battle.”
Nick, Jarrod, and
Audra responded, “To Charger” and took a swallow from their glasses.
Quietly, Audra
leaned toward her silent brother and asked, “What do you think, Heath? Does it
suit him?”
He nodded, his eyes
bright, and with his own heavy memories from that day by the bridge, he said,
catching his mother’s eye, “Yes, Little Sis, I think it does. Thank you, both.”
Then, he added, touching both ladies’ hands, “I do like the name, an’ it makes
it even more special that you both gave it ta him ta carry with us wherever we
go.”
*************
(Note: Again, I have played with history just a bit. I didn’t think Heath would like the epic, alliterative poem by Chaucer’s unknown peer called “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight,” but, I felt he would like Malory’s work, not actually published until 1893. It is based on an ageless story that has been shared in classic literature since the 1400’s.)
When the family’s
attention had been off of Heath for a while, Audra looked around and saw him
standing over by the French doors, gazing outside. As she set down her
needlepoint and approached him, entwining her arm in his, she saw that he was
watching his horse cavorting in the twilight, out in the corral closest to the
house.
There was something
else she had wanted to say to him a little while ago, but knowing that her
words would embarrass him, she had chosen to save them until only the two of
them were together.
“Heath, the knights
in the book we gave you believed in loyalty, love, and honor above all else.
They knew how to treat a lady, just like you do.” Then, she added, with a
playful glare back at Nick, who was watching them from across the room, “No
matter if the lady is just a little sister.”
They both heard
Nick reply, breaking off from his conversation with Jarrod by the fireplace as
he heard his name, “What? What did I do?”
Giggling, and
knowing she didn’t have much time until Nick walked over and joined them now,
she turned back to Heath, speaking quietly again, “Those knights often went on
difficult journeys called quests, seeking truth and right. “
Then, she paused,
took a deep breath, and looked up into the eyes that were so much like those of
her father, before continuing, “It’s been almost a year since you’ve joined
this family, Heath, and I believe it would be true to say that, like one of
King Arthur’s knights, you’ve been on a long quest looking for honest answers
about yourself, just as you sought to find answers about the rest of your
family.”
By now, Heath had
gotten over blushing at her heartfelt words and was just standing quietly, his
eyes lowered, holding her hand, and listening intently to the words that seemed
somehow to find a home inside his heart.
“I know we’re all
very glad you went on that quest, that you found us, and that you’ve continued
to trust us, no matter what. I love you, Big Brother.”
She silently stood
up on her tip-toes and gave his cheek a quick kiss.
It was a moment
before he could look at her or reply, his head full of images of how she had
looked that day she had followed him to his hotel room in Stockton and had
changed, with quicksilver reactions, from a temptress to a tigress, then
slowly, after that, over time, had changed into the best sister a brother could
ever hope to have.
Finally, he
responded softly, “I love you, too, Sis. An’, you’re right, I do value the
trust I have in all’a you, an’ I’m very glad I started that journey ta find
you. I don’t know what kind’a knight I’d’ve made, but----well, thank you for
helpin’ Mother name my horse. It does seem ta fit him.”
She reached up to
touch his face and said, “I have no doubt about what kind of knight you, and
the rest of my brothers, would have made, Heath. If that king long ago had had
the three of you at his round table, like my mother has you around her dinner
table, Camelot would’ve never fallen.”
He smiled down at
her as she reached out and squeezed his hand.
Watching them together from
across the room, but unable to hear their words, Victoria picked up the new
family portrait from its place on the low table beside her, studying it. They
had had it made recently, since the difficult events of the last few months,
though it had not been easy for her to talk them into it so soon after the
other one. She had finally done so, however, without giving them all of her
reasons.
Now, as she sat holding the
small, framed portrait in her hand, taking in all five of the smiling faces,
she remembered that Nick had made a comment during the sitting, something about
feeling like he was all trussed up in fancy duds for his own funeral. Heath had
immediately responded by saying Nick would be wishing for his funeral after he
got a good look at the girl Carl Wheeler had set him up with for the upcoming
social. Appropriately, however, Jarrod had had the last word, though she could
no longer remember what he had said, something about admonishing Heath for
being so cruel to poor Nick, since beggars couldn’t be choosers.
As a result, the photographer
had caught them all with smiles threatening to erupt into full-scale laughter.
Holding it in her hand now, she
thought to herself again, just as she had the day she and Howard Merar had sat
in the parlour, that the most important things all of them had were each other,
their memories of the good times, their loving relationships, and as Heath had
later pointed out, their trust in each other.
Gratefully, she closed her eyes
and touched the sparkling necklace with its stunning stones where it lay
against the deep green of her gown. Silently, she thanked her husband for the
choices of a love still strong and a trust that had never died, for the choices
made that had given her this family.
Then, still
smiling, she placed the frame on the table beside the red settee where she sat,
and she turned her head and looked back out across the room. With her eyes
resting on the blond-haired, blue-eyed pair talking by the open double doors,
their heads almost touching as they stood there deep in discussion, she
whispered, her eyes shining and full of smiling tears, “Welcome home, Heath
Barkley.”
* * * * * * * *
The slight chill of the
evening, foreshadowing the more crisp temperatures of the coming fall, was a
relief from the heat that had lingered in the valley throughout that long
summer. Nick watched his brother leaning against the corral fence, as Heath
stood in the descending darkness, watching the smooth motion of the large bay
circling the enclosure in front of him.
Smiling broadly, and in just a
few, long strides, Nick crossed the space that separated him from his brother.
The soft drawl that welcomed
him filled his heart with warmth, as Heath said without turning, “Boy Howdy,
Nick, remind me ta stay well away from you an’ those noisy, jingly spurs when
we head up ta the lodge for some huntin’ next month. With you stalkin’ around,
won’t be nary an animal within five miles.”
Chuckling, Nick replied, “Five
miles, huh? That ought to be about right.”
Heath turned slightly, smiling
lop-sidedly with his eyebrow lifted, waiting for the explanation that he was
sure would follow.
“I’ll have you know, Boy, my
prowess with a rifle doesn’t require the big game to be any closer than that.”
Heath chuckled and asked, “Something like an apple
on a tree, right?”
“Absolutely!” Nick responded, grabbing the back of
Heath’s neck and shaking him slightly. “But, I think you’ve already won the
prize for shooting from horseback in a hurricane, Little Brother.”
Heath said nothing, but nodded, his eyes twinkling
at the compliment.
Then, as one, they turned back to the corral, arms
propped across the top-most board, one boot each resting on the bottom, in
unconscious, mirror images of each other.
Together, they continued to watch the smooth,
mesmerizing motions of the horse.
After a few moments, Heath murmured, causing Nick
to lean his head toward him to hear the soft words, “Charger. . . yep, reckon
it suits him, for a fact.”
Nodding, Nick agreed, “Sure does, Boy.”
Smiling at the word, once hated, but now recognized
as a welcomed title, bestowed on him only because Nick cared about him, Heath
made a decision.
Ever since the others had presented him with their
gifts earlier in the evening, he had wanted to tell Nick something that had
been on his mind.
Now was a good time.
“Nick, ya’ know, I never
would’ve made it that day at the bridge, never would’ve even made it home in
time from followin’ you an’ Jarrod up ta the camp, if it hadn’t been for this
horse-----the horse you gave me. Havin’ him beneath me up in those mountains,
even down there by that river, made all the difference in my survival, an’
possibly Mother’s, Nick.”
Swallowing hard, not wanting
his next words to be a betrayal of his much-loved black Modoc, he added, “Gal
has the speed, but she’d never’ve had the endurance ta do what I asked of him
those two days.”
Nick looked at him with
seriousness, wondering where this discussion, coming on the heels of all that
had happened this evening, was going.
Heath turned and gripped Nick’s
arm with his hand, staring into the vivid hazel eyes of this brother that meant
so much to him. He said, “I’ll never be able ta give ya’ a better birthday gift
than the one ya’ gave me, Nick. Your gift saved my life----an’ hers.”
“Well, Heath,” Nick said, nodding. “The way I see it, we’re even
then.”
At Heath’s quizzical look, he
added, “You see, the best gift you could ever give me, Boy, are the three
things that you’ve already shared with me.”
Heath raised his left eyebrow
and waited.
Nick said, “For one thing, you
kept Mother from harm at Mason’s hands, twice in fact, Heath. And, for the
second, you’re here, with us, with me. You’re my brother, the brother to share
this ranch with that I never thought I’d have. You didn’t die, and you didn’t
leave.”
Then, Nick paused, looking hard
at Heath. Admitting to himself that he was possibly just putting off explaining
the last of the three things, Nick considered his next words carefully, “I
didn’t ever think I’d have a brother like you, Heath, a partner like you’ve
become. And, having a brother, that’s one thing that I don’t think you ever
thought you’d have either. Am I right?”
Heath looked at Nick’s serious
face, the hazel eyes watching him intently. Then, he dropped his head and
closed his eyes, remembering all the times growing up that he had dreamed of
having a brother, someone to stand beside, someone to defend, someone to defend
him. And, too, he remembered all the times he had admonished himself for
continuing to wish for something he would never have, forcing himself to learn
to accept what would never be. It had been a tough lesson to learn, one that
had taught him much about what to accept and what not to. . . .
But, . . . how was it that Nick
seemed to know all that?
He looked up at Nick after a
moment, wondering. The dark-headed rancher was now staring out at the bay
trotting around the corral, obviously deep in thought. Suddenly, Nick blinked
and moved his eyes back to Heath’s face, feeling the light blue gaze pondering
him.
Then, Heath said quietly,
“Ogden. He told ya’, didn’t he?”
Seeing Nick’s nod, he added, “I
swear, Nick, that old man’s provin’ himself ta have more noisy gab than a
bawlin’ calf stuck in a early spring mudhole.”
Nick smiled, shook Heath again
with his hand on the back of the tanned neck, and said, “Yeah, I kinda like
having him around. He’s a wealth of information when it comes to my silent,
little brother. I can’t wait to get him drunk one night. There’s no telling
what I’ll learn about you, then.”
Heath rolled his eyes,
grumbling a bit under his breath, and turned away to watch Charger.
On the inside, however, he was
laughing, just imagining Nick Barkley trying to out-drink the wily, blue-eyed
old man. If it were an eating contest they were talking about, Nick would win
hands down, but, drinking? There probably wasn’t a man alive that could
out-drink Ogden Haverty and live to tell the tale.
This was one contest he was
going to enjoy watching. But, . . . Nick and Jarrod had already gotten too much
out of Ogden, and Heath wasn’t about to let Nick know this piece of
information, too.
Poker face in place, Heath said
forcefully, “Nick, you leave that old man alone. He’s spent most’a the last ten
or more years livin’ up in those mountains, real quiet like. An’ I’m sure he’s
rarely seen the inside of a saloon in all that time.”
Grinning broadly, now, Nick
added, “That’s alright, Heath. I promise to take good care of him. . . . but,
while he’s soaking up the whiskey, I plan to be soaking up the stories. . .
about you!”
Then, sobering, Nick hesitated
a moment before continuing, “There is one more thing you’ve shared with me,
Heath. It’s the third one I mentioned, and . . . it’s kind of tough for me to
bring up. We’ve talked about it some, but. . . ”
Nick watched the horse again,
feeling the warmth of a deep pride in how much his brother seemed to think of
the animal, of his gift.
Slowly, he tore his eyes away
from the bay and turned his head to face Heath. When his hazel eyes met the
steady gaze from beside him, he swallowed hard. Those blue eyes, the eyes that
reminded him of his father, were communicating so much more than he ever could
with the inadequacy of words.
But, taking a deep breath, Nick
knew he had to try, for both of them. He tried to start slowly, picking his
words carefully, “The third thing, . . .
the gift you gave me, . . . .”
Then, he stopped. Growling and
running his hand through his dark hair in frustration, he said, “Ah, Hell,
Heath. I never was any good at speeches, so I’ll just spit it out. It’s your
trust, the trust you keep placing in me, even after all that’s happened. I want
you to know that as long as I have that trust, I’ll be able to face anything
that gets thrown my way.”
Nick shook his quiet brother
again by the neck, then pulled him to his chest and hugged him close with one
arm. He leaned down slightly and said gruffly into Heath’s ear, “I love you,
Little Brother, and having you by my side every day, running this ranch together,
will make all the difference for me in how much I value each and every minute
of it. I’m glad you’re here, I’m grateful that you saved Mother’s life, and I’m
so damn happy that you’ve given me your trust, I could burst into song.”
His head bowed as he listened
to the heart-felt words, Heath gave Nick a small nod and, then, he pulled back
slightly and, with a lop-sided smile, he said, “I do trust ya’, Nick. . . with
my life. And, yes, . . . Big Brother, I
love you, too. But,” he added, his eyes glittering, “Do me a favor, would ya’,
an’ give me a head start on that five miles we talked about----before ya’
decide ta sing!”
With a gruff growl,
Nick pulled Heath into a full bear hug, and then, grabbing him around the
shoulders, turned him toward the house. In his exuberance at the way the
evening had gone, he proceeded to fill the quiet darkness with enough words for
the both of them.
“Yeah, well, Heath,
I’ll have you know, unlike one of us by this fence, and I’m not including
Charger, I can carry a tune. And, just so you still remember your place, Little
Brother, I’m going to give you the honor of losing to me at checkers tonight.
But, I’m warning you in advance. You’ll only get a couple of chances to come
back at me when you lose. I’m turning in early and suggest you do the same,
because tomorrow I want you ready to help me check out your favorite bridge.
It’s taken quite a beating from the high water during the last few weeks.”
Heath laughed and
when he could get a word in, he said as they walked, “Ya’ know, Nick, every
time I get near that bridge, I wind up havin’ ta swim the river. Do ya’ think
we could find an easier way ta check for damages tomorrow, like maybe building
a boat first?”
Growling again,
Nick grinned, shook the blond beside him, and said, “That’s what I mean, Heath,
you’re always looking for the easy way to do things. If you don’t know what I’m
talking about, I can see I’m going to have to keep working on your memory.
Trust me, you need to quit slouching around and remember that, like I’ve been
saying from your very first morning here, this is a working ranch!”