Barnraising

by soho178

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.

Heath had learned early that life can change in the space of a heartbeat, that wishes, dreams and hopes…all the small treasures that we hold close to our heart…can fall away and be lost through some seemingly inconsequential act that gives others mastery over our fate.

Jeremy Carter learned that lesson too late. His face ever so briefly held an expression of surprise and bemusement upon learning it. In the instant between intent and occurrence the path of his life was immutably altered. The sweep of sky and cloud flowed across his vision, burning into his consciousness one last time. He saw in them the memories of every sunrise and sunset and felt a pang of regret for those he’d let pass him by unnoticed.

Set against the crystal blue of a sky kissed with golden sun, his slow progress through the air took on a balletic grace. He tried to reach out and grab to himself all that he had let pass him by in the mistaken notion that there were more for the taking. The act sent his hammer tumbling beside him like some errant moon.

In the first breathtaking instant of flight he knew the light heart of the hawk as it danced on the wind, but then the tug of gravity reclaimed him and he arced down and away.

Their eyes met and held until the connection was lost in an explosion of light and pain.

* * * * * * * *

Jarrod watched the taciturn face of his younger brother as he walked towards the partially complete skeleton of the barn that was growing in the ranch yard. He read the simmering fury in Nick’s eyes as they followed the young man walking away, resigned to another day of his middle brother’s anger and rejection.

Enough is enough! His patience had run out and the barely suppressed, almost parental anger of the last two months boiled up. He reached Nick in a few short strides and spun him on his heel. The volatile rancher came around swinging, landing the lawyer in the dust.

“What the…! Geez Jarrod, don’t go grabbin’ me like that. I’m sorry!”

Jarrod accepted the hand up but just stared at him, not bothering to hide his wrath behind his usual mask of manners and control.

“What?! I apologized! You surprised me big brother!”

“Why did you assign Heath to work with Jeremy Carter? You know Carter has been one of his biggest tormentors.”

Nick glared in response. “Carter’s a hard worker. How I run this ranch is my business, not yours.” He’ll work with whoever I damn well say he will and if he doesn’t like it he can leave. Like any other hired help!

“In case you have forgotten little brother, the Barkley ranch is not your sole dominion. Audra, Eugene, Mother, myself, and now Heath are as much owners of this ranch as you are. As for you running things, it looks to me like you are running away from the truth and straight to Hell.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick’s voice had risen to a full bellow. The hands and extra hired men stood in silence, curious to see how the drama would play out.

Glancing around, not wanting to air any more of their private business for the audience, Jarrod muted his reply for his brother’s ears only. “Until today I never knew you to be a vindictive man Nick. Our father would be ashamed of you.” He matched his younger brother’s gaze without flinching then glanced over his shoulder, locating the blond head, meeting the crystal blue eyes among the onlookers. I’m sorry, Heath.

Heath closed his eyes and took a deep cleansing breath. He hadn’t known until this minute, seeing the dismay in Jarrod’s eyes, that he’d reached his limit. It was time to surrender and accept defeat. He would finish the day and leave before dawn. Who am I fooling? As long as Nick doesn’t want me here there won’t be any family for me. He felt the dark eyes of the hostile man rake over him from across the yard.

“C’mon Carter, let’s get to work.” He turned and walked away before Nick had a chance to single him out.

”Well what are you all standing around for? GET TO WORK!” Nick’s jaw worked in barely suppressed rage and his scowl followed his elder brother as he joined the framing crews swarming up the ladders. Who is he to tell me what Father would be ashamed of? He walked away from the ranch for the Law, and now he’d give away Tom Barkley’s legacy to a man whose making the Barkley name a laughing stock.

Raising the rafters was hard work. At 300 feet long, this was to be a bigger barn than any of the others on the Barkley property, designed to accommodate almost 100 horses. The gambrel roof would hold feed for the family’s mounts and the remuda for the entire winter. Heath and Jeremy worked in hostile silence. If it weren’t for the need to watch his back, he might have enjoyed the labor, but as it was, the day stretched on interminably.

Towards noon, they were finally setting the last of the rafters, working to maneuver the feet into the sill plate. It needed the force of a mallet to wrestle the balky beams into position and Jeremy took up the heavy headed wooden hammer as Heath braced the foot of the gambrel to prevent it moving too far.

Jeremy hadn’t known he what he was going to do until he swung the heavy tool. All it took was a slight adjustment of his swing and he watched as the head made contact with the other man’s leg knocking him off balance. But his inspiration was also his undoing. Instinctively, Heath reached out to grab whatever he could to keep from falling. His hands locked onto the smaller man’s arm and broke his grip on the support. It slowed Heath enough to let him reach out and grab the sill plate for support. It was also enough to pitch the lighter man over his head and away from any hope of salvation.

“Carter!” It had been Heath’s scream that rose above the pounding of metal on wood and alerted the men strung out along the wooden framework. He clung in desperation, the unsettled rafter sliding along his back, pinning him against a beam twenty feet in the air. Thirty pairs of eyes stared at the falling man and thirty voices were muted with horror.

In that moment Jeremy Carter was the only man who moved, save for the eyes that followed him, then even he was still. For an instant the scene was frozen, but shortly time unstuck and men rushed Carter’s side. Others hurried to shift the heavy wooden beam, haul Heath to safety and help him down the skeleton of the building.

In the adrenalin rush of the moment Heath never notice the pain in his leg or back. He was intent on getting to Carter. Kneeling beside the man, he flinched at the grotesquely twisted back and the abdomen already beginning to swell. Carter’s breath was coming hard, words barely audible between gasps. “Guess you win bastard.”

With those words, powerful hands grabbed Heath from behind and pinned him against one of the massive hardwood beams. “WHAT DOES HE MEAN? WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED UP THERE?” Nick was God’s own wrath personified. He punched his younger brother once in the stomach then again. It was only Duke and Jarrod grabbing his cocked arm that stopped any further damage by dragging him away.

“Nick! NOT NOW!”

Heath curled around his pain willing it to stop as voices flew around him shouting instructions and offering comfort to the fallen ranch hand and his younger brother kneeling beside him. It was the plaintive moaning that finally brought him back to the present and sent him reeling back into his past at the same time. He crawled to where the other man lay and grabbed one hand. Someone made to stop him but the look he elicited stopped the words before they drew breath.

“Carter, Carter look at me!” Heath spoke low and quiet. He turned the head, now trailing blood from nose and ears, toward him. “Listen to me Jeremy. Listen.” Will Carter looked on, unsure of what to do.

Jeremy Carter had no sense of this man as friend or enemy anymore. He only saw the piercing blue eyes and heard the low soothing voice and wanted anything to take the pain away.

“Jeremy, I know it hurts, listen to me. Jeremy, remember back to when you were a boy.”

The eyes stayed fixed on his. “I’ve heard ya tell stories about livin’ near a creek down in Georgia. Do ya remember it Jeremy?” A spasm of pain ran through the man’s body and he clenched the offered hand.

“Remember it Jeremy, go back there. Go back and sit on the bank.” He continued in that low soothing tone, cutting through the man’s reality. “See the trees? See the willows hangin’ over the water, trailin’ their branches down to the surface. If you looked deep you can see the fish hidin’ in the deep water there. See the sun when it hits the gold on their backs.”

“Remember when you were a kid and you and your friends would go down to the creek fishing on a hot summer day? You’d lay in the sweet grass under a tree and look up at the sky through the branches. Can ya smell the earth Jeremy? Rich and musty?”

And suddenly, Jeremy was right where Heath said he was. Back before the war, when he still had a family, he’d been happy, and life had seemed like only good things lay ahead. He was back at home, lying on the bank, with his big brother Tim and their friend George. Will would sometimes be with them, when Ma made them look after him. He remembered how they’d spend their summer afternoons in the shade, watching the sun throw dappled gold on the water. Somehow they never seemed to care if they caught any fish, it was just good to be there.

Heath continued to murmur in his low-voiced way, and the injured man’s pain lessened. While his words comforted the other man, they drew Heath back into a personal nightmare.

Jeremy remembered his momma bringing them a pitcher of lemonade. How she’d use the lemons from their back yard and make it good and strong but never too sweet like some folks did. Hers was always tart and ice cold, with chunks of ice house ice floating in it. They would watch the trickles of sweat run down the pitcher and pool, marveling at how water could come right out of the air like that. Some days Momma would bring fresh baked ginger snaps as well. She always said baking for them was her joy.

He could see her now, her long dark hair pinned in a casual twist at the nape of her neck, the wide brimmed hat that shaded her white skin. She was beautiful as all mothers are to their ten year old sons. She had happy gray eyes; you could always find a smile in them…and love. She had loved her husband and sons, and it was always written there for the world to see. He remembered the feel of her warm arm as it snaked around his waist for a quick hug out of sight of the older boys. He remembered his need to always kiss her goodbye, no matter what any of his friends might think. She was smiling at him right now, holding out her hands, reaching for one more kiss…

Jeremy reached up as if to touch something invisible, in front of him, then the light went out of his eyes for good. Heath felt the grip on his hand go slack and sighed. Reaching up he gently brushed the eyelids closed, then looked up at the faces around him.

“It’s done.” His leg started to buckle at the strain of rising and suddenly Jarrod’s hands were there lending support. Like the rest of the crew, the elder Barkley brothers had stood by helplessly as Heath had offered the only help that would have made any difference to the dying man.

Duke relaxed his grip on Nick’s arm. “Okay men, someone go get a buckboard ready and some blankets. The rest of you, call it a day.” They began to disperse, murmuring among themselves. Unsure of what to make of what they’d just witnessed. Nick made to follow Heath as he limped off on his own but Jarrod restrained him.

“Not you Nick. Not now. Leave him be.” Jarrod wasn’t suggesting, he was ordering.

“I need to know what happened. Jeremy was a good man.”

“There’ll be time enough for that in a while. “ Jarrod hissed. “For God’s sake, look at his face! I don’t know what just went on there but it wasn’t easy for him.” The lawyer’s head tilted towards the blond cowboy who was leaning on a distant corral fence.

“I’m not a monster Jarrod.” Nick’s eyes didn’t seem as certain as his words. His older brother only cocked an eyebrow and left his thoughts unspoken.

Fred Madden and Doctor Merar arrived an hour later, both men intent on spending time with Heath. They found him still by the corral, lost in thought. Putting off the harder of the two encounters, the pensive cowboy spoke to the Sheriff first.

“It was an accident Fred. We were setting the last of the rafters and the foot wouldn’t slip in the sill. Jeremy went to set it with the mallet. When it shifted I lost my footing and fell. He reached out to grab me and my weight pulled him off balance. I managed to grab onto the sill, but he had pitched out too far for me grab onto him as well.”

Fred seemed satisfied with the explanation. The doc said the body didn’t look as though anything else had happened, but he needed to ask the hands who’d been nearest what they had witnessed. Jarrod and Nick joined him when Heath chased anyone but the Doctor from the room during the examination.

The two brothers made it known that the men were to speak freely. The tension between the two Barkley’s hadn’t lessened. Jarrod’s earlier words had been preying on his brother all day. In the hours since Heath had helped ease the dying man’s passing, the act of unparalleled compassion had shamed him.

Not surprisingly, none of the hands had seen the incident. All had been focused on doing their own jobs safely, working 30 feet in the air. There was some grumbling speculation aimed at Heath, but nothing concrete. Fred was about to rule it an accident and leave the bunkhouse when a distraught Will Carter approached the group.

“Sheriff? Nick?”

“Will, I’m sorry for your loss. I know you and your brother were close.” Nick patted the 20 year old on his shoulder.”

“Thank ya Nick. I appreciate it.” He looked as though there was more on his mind.

Softening his voice and demeanor, Nick probed a little. “Is there something you want to tell us son? It’s okay.”

Will opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sob. Suddenly he was being held by the rough and tumble rancher without any concern for what such an act would do to his image with the rest of the crew. Duke McCall looked on, shaking his head and caught Jarrod’s eye. Both men knew this side of Nick Barkley, both had experienced it… Jarrod innumerable times in their years growing up, Duke in months after his beloved wife had died. Where was this Nick when it came to the young man claiming fraternity with the Barkley’s?

Will straightened his shoulders, embarrassed to find himself in the grip to the gruff, no-nonsense rancher.

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Jarrod and Fred stood rooted in place. Nick’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say, boy?”

“It wasn’t an accident. I was watching them the whole morning, afraid something was gonna happen when you put them together. Why’d you hafta go do that Nick?”

The blood had drained from Nick’s face at the plaintive question. “I….”

“Will,” Jarrod interrupted, “are you saying that Jeremy didn’t fall the way Heath said he did?” This was Jarrod, the lawyer, wanting to be very clear.

“That’s what I’m saying, Sir.”

Nick exploded with fury. “Why I’ll kill that sonnofa….Fred, you get up there and arrest him. Will I promise this family will make sure he gets prosecuted for murdering your brother!” Nick’s glare at Jarrod said that he’d better damn well agree.

Will’s eyes panicked and he clutched at Nick’s arm. “No! NO! You gotta listen to me, listen! Nick! Please! You got it wrong!”

The weight dragging at his arm got his attention and he focused back on the man. “You just said…”

“Jeremy tried to kill Heath.”

There, I’ve said it! Forgive me Jer but I hadta make it right! The statement hung in the air. He was ashamed, knew it would mean his job, but he couldn’t live with the loss of his brother and the lie too.

The three men stood waiting as he regained his composure. “Jeremy and Heath needed the mallet to set the rafter, it wasn’t going in the way it was supposed ta. Heath was steadying the bottom and Jer had the mallet. He…he…swung and…I saw, I saw him aim it at Heath’s leg. That’s why he’s limping. Jer hit him good with it, knocked him offa the sill. The rest of it, well, Heath was only trying to save himself. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Will.” Nick placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “you’re wrong. It must have been an accident. Jer was a good man, why would he wanna kill Heath?”

“Well, Sir…Nick. Well, it’s because you gave us a chance when a lotta other folks wouldn’t. He felt kinds like it was his job ta look out for the ranch.” Will wiped his eyes with his sleeve until Fred handed him his kerchief. “You was so angry and not wantin’ Heath around cause he was such a stain on the Barkley name, bein’ a bastard and all and well, he just figured it was somethin’ he could do to pay you back for all your kindness.”

The other men in the bunkhouse had been listening to the story and began to shuffle their feet. Many of them had harbored the same thoughts more than once, how it would be better if they could just get rid of the blond cowboy once and for all.

Jarrod’s sense of fair play had deserted him hours ago. “So Nick, how does it feel to know the men would kill for you?” He and Fred headed towards the house. Nick turned to follow them, then his stride picked up and he bulled his way between the two men.

“Nick!” Fred shouted to stop his friend, but it had no effect. “Damn!”

They hurried, catching up with Nick as he barged into Heath’s room. The cowboy was sprawled on his stomach as Howard Merar cleaned up a myriad of scrapes and splinters left when the rough hewn lumber had scraped against him.

“What the he….!” Heath’s face was instantly panicked and he rolled over to grab for his shirt but the pain from his bruised and swollen thigh stopped him. Looking at the faces of the three men, he realized it was too late already. “Damn!” His fist pounded the bed in frustration.

Howard let out a sigh and placed a hand on the angry man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry son.”

Nick walked over to stare at his brother’s back. He reached out and ran his fingers down the criss-cross pattern of scars, as if to reassure himself of the evidence of his eyes. It was an act of intimacy that would remain in both men’s memory for years to come. He’d never seen them before, images of Heath working in the sun, never bare-chested even on the hottest days, sprang up.

Heath met Nick’s eyes over his shoulder and for once they weren’t angry or resentful. The question in them was poised on the tip all four men’s tongues, but no one could bring themselves to ask. Heath looked from face to face and resolved not to hide any longer. The whip marks and all they stood for were as much a part of him as his Barkley blood. “Carterson.” Was all he said then he reached across to the chair and pulled the discarded shirt back over the evidence. “Now get the Hell out of my room.”

Jarrod looked out the Study windows and spotted Heath coming out of the new barn. In the week since Jeremy had died and Nick had ridden out, the men had finished fitting it out. Working under Heath’s direction, they had done a credible job and much of the stock was already moved. The ranch had run smoothly, the men finally taking orders from Heath without any resistance.

He stepped outside and meeting the cowboy at the coral fence, the two stopped to admire the sunset and share a little time before retiring.

“When do you suppose Nick will be back?”

“I don’t know Heath, he said he needed time to think, could be any day or it could be a couple more weeks.” Jarrod patted Jingo, who had come over looking for a treat from his master. Jarrod fished a sugar cube out of his pocket. “Here you go boy.”

“You spoil him Counselor.” His half grin giving away his own tendency to spoil the family mounts as well.

“You still planning on leaving?”

Heath looked at the Counselor in surprise. “Guess I know why you’re such a good lawyer.”

Jarrod would have smiled at the compliment if it hadn’t been for what was at stake. “I hope you’ll reconsider. I think Nick will come back a changed man.”

“It was never my intention to make anyone change.”

Jarrod gave him a skeptical look. “Come on Heath, you had to know coming here would change a lot of things.”

The younger man shrugged. “Guess I didn’t give it much thought. I was just lookin’ for what I wanted, didn’t care about anyone else.”

“Change isn’t always a bad thing Heath, and I’m thinking that Nick needed this one. He’s always tended to idolize our father. But Tom Barkley was an imperfect man, believe me.”

I had enough run-ins with him to prove it.”

Heath raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Being a Lawyer was not part of Tom Barkley’s plan for his oldest son.” The story behind that comment would have to wait for another day.

“It’s time Nick started seeing Father for what he was. A great father, a great man, but still flawed. He could be stubborn, and demanding, he could trample over people without realizing it. He was a man of great passions. You don’t build a spread like this ranch without a strong will and a driving vision. No, Father was human like the rest of us and it’s time Nick accepts it.”

“You reckon that’s what all this has been about?”

“Pretty much.”

“It’s a hard thing to have your idol fall.”

“It’s not just losing his idol, it’s losing himself. Nick has fashioned himself in Father’s image. And there are far worse role models he could have chosen. But when you forced him to see Tom Barkley as flawed, you also made him question his own identity.”

“You’re not makin’ much of a case for Nick wanting me to stick around Jarrod.”

“I suppose it sounds that way. But hard as it might be for you to believe, I think he will. The Nick you’ve seen these last two months isn’t the man I’ve grown up with. I’d like you to get to meet that other Nick. So will you stay around when Nick gets back?”

“How about we take it a day at a time?”

Jarrod scrutinized the other man as he watched the sunset. “That’s good enough for me, Heath, good enough for me.

Nick rode in just as the sun was rising on Sunday, a week later. Stabling Coco, he took a few minutes to walk around the new barn, noting how it had been fitted out with great care. Amidst the shuffle and sigh of sleeping animals, a noise attracted his attention. He climbed to the loft, following the faint sounds of distress. Wandering back into the recesses of stacked bales, the noise gradually became recognizable as crying.

He knew before he rounded the last stack who it would be. Stooping down beside the huddled figure he placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

Heath startled and then cringed at the sight of Nick. “Whoa Heath! Take it easy.”

“Leave me be!” He was furiously scrubbing the tears from his face, hoping to stem flow but not succeeding.

Nick thought a moment, then slid down to sit beside the other man. He started talking to him about his trip, the places he’d ridden and what he’d seen. Heath listened, losing himself in the images, letting them drive the ghosts away. As Nick talked on, Heath’s mind ranged over the countryside even as his breathing calmed and the defensive set of is shoulders eased.

Eventually morning sounds started to filter up from below. “Come on old son, let’s get you back to the house.”

“Nick, thanks.”

Nick Barkley looked at the man who sitting next to him. “No, thank you.”

“What for?”

“For what you did for Jer. You coulda just let him suffer.”

“No, I couldn’t have Nick.” He shuddered at the idea and Nick realized that getting to know this man was going to be a long tough road.

“Carterson?” Heath merely nodded in reply.

“Someday I’d like to hear about it.”

“No, trust me, you wouldn’t.”

He shook his head, “Bad choice of words. I’ll listen if you ever feel the need.” The hand that rested on Heath’s shoulder was there to offer support.

“Maybe…someday….not now.” He shook his head and his shoulders shrugged apologetically.

Nick saw the flicker of hope amid the overtones of mistrust in Heath’s eyes. Well, you can’t expect things to change over night. Just give it time.

“We’d best get to breakfast before Mother skins us alive.” He draped an arm over Heath’s shoulder and steered him toward the ladder and out into the brightness of the new day.

THE END