Distances

by Soho178

Disclaimer: For Entertainment purposes only. 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. Original characters are the property of the author and may not be used without permission.

Please note -- This story is not appropriate for readers under 13 years of age.

Chapter 1

“Goodbye Mother.” The tall dark haired young man bent down and kissed Victoria Barkley one last time before boarding the train for San Francisco. To a mother’s eye the child was still visible in the man’s face and she felt her heart pull at the thought of not seeing him for two years. Knowing he would be embarrassed by her tears she held them, smiling at the memory of their real parting the night before, out of sight of family or friends.

Seeing the light under his door, she had knocked, reminding herself to wait for an answer. He wasn’t a child anymore and hadn’t been for some time, but some habits had been hard to break.

“Come in.”

“It’s late darling, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

He smiled and those blue eyes twinkled. “No doubt I should, but I guess I’m too excited.” She could still read him sometimes like she’d been able to when he was younger. There was still enough of the child in him to lose sleep like it was Christmas Eve. “Besides, I was hoping you’d stop on the way to bed.”

“Oh?”

“Mother, I….” he fumbled, not sure of how to tell her what he was feeling. “I just want to thank you for letting me do this.”

“Jarrod, you’re a man in your own right, now. There was no letting about it, but I’m glad to help you follow your dream.”

He smiled at her then. Both of them knew that if she had asked him to stay, to go to school closer to home, that he would have done it. “I’ll miss you, son.”

He enfolded her in his arms. How was it that the tiny child she had so painfully pushed out of her body 20 years ago, had nursed at her breast and swatted when he was naughty had turned into this fine young man? How could she bear to let him go away from her? Was this what it was going to be like for all of them?

“Mother?”

“Yes dear?”

“I promise I’ll come back.”

Her eyes widened in surprise then she laughed inwardly. How typical of him to know that was her greatest fear. That he would find his home in the east and she would never see him again. They were close, of course he would know.

“Don’t make promises you might not keep, son.”

“I love you, Mother.”

“I love you too, Jarrod. Don’t you ever forget that. Now go to bed. I don’t want to have to use a wooden spoon to get you moving in the morning.”

He smiled again. “I think you have me confused with Audra.”

She left and he lay on the bed staring out at the night sky. He must have dozed off, but woke in the minutes before dawn, when the sky way only a shade lighter than the land. Pulling on some clothes, he slipped down the back steps and out the kitchen door, heading for the barn.

Duke was there waiting, with a horse saddled. The startled blue eyes made him laugh. “You didn’t think I’d guess? Boy, you should know me better by now.”

“Thanks Duke. I couldn’t go without one more sunrise to take with me.”

“We’ll miss you son. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Impulsively, Jarrod reached out and grabbed the man in a hug. He would miss Duke and Hattie and their quiet support. There had been many a time when Duke had filled a void in his life. Releasing him, embarrassed, he took the reins. “Better get going or I’ll miss it.”

Breakfast was rushed with the need to get to town early. Most of Jarrod’s belongings had been shipped to Harvard earlier in the summer, but there was still last minute packing and the train left at eight AM. Ciego readied the surrey as Tom gave morning instructions to Duke McCall. Jarrod helped his mother and Audra into their seats then mounted, taking one last look around the yard. He was obviously looking for something that he didn’t find. Victoria and Tom traded glances as their oldest son’s shoulders slumped and a mask of good-natured understanding slipped in place over the disappointment.

Tom climbed up and took up the reins, then looked over.

“Ready?”

“Yes Sir.” Tom reached out and patted him on the shoulder as he took one last look around. Watching the surrey pass through the ranch gates on its way to Stockton, Nick sat astride Coco and wiped the tears from his face. "Goodbye big brother. I'll miss you...."

Once on the train, father and son settled into their seats for the first part of the journey and Jarrod Barkley watched the California landscape slip by. It would be a long time before he saw it again, much longer than even he expected.

Tom watched his eldest son and tried to think of some way to ease the awkward silence between them. There were so many things he’d wanted to say to the boy in the last few months, but breaking through Jarrod’s carefully crafted defenses was just something he didn’t know how to do. Victoria had tried to tell him years ago what he was doing but he had been too caught up in his own dreams and ambitions to listen. Now that he was older and the dream was realized, he’d discovered that his wife was right and the price he’d paid was steeper than he could imagine. He had no idea how to bridge the distance between them.

Watching the young man who sat across from him he longed to roll back the years and change so many of the choices he’d made. He tried to remember that last time he’d thought of Jarrod’s lack of interest in being a rancher as anything but a comment on his own life’s choices. How could his first born not share his dream? He wanted to talk, even if it was too little, too late… he wasn’t naïve enough to think that it would repair the damage his own shortsightedness had caused. Instead he settled for asking Jarrod if he would like to see the paper that he’d purchased just before the train pulled out.

“No thank you father.” The troubled blue eyes met his father’s briefly then turned back to staring out the window, frowning.

“Don’t be mad at him, Jarrod. He just doesn’t understand.”

“No, I suppose he’s too young to.” Tom red the unspoken commentary in the blue eyes that met his, then Jarrod bent to pull a leather book from the traveling bag he’d placed under the seat. He wouldn’t read, but it would stop his father from trying to have the conversation they both wanted to avoid. Jarrod sighed; he was running away again; just one more reason for Tom Barkley to be disappointed in his eldest son.

Nick had risen early and gone to the barn expecting to get his chores done before they left for the station. Finishing up with Coco’s stall, he turned to Audra and Eugene’s ponies and was about to start when Jarrod led his mount back into the barn.

“Nick! You’re in here early.”

“Work doesn’t stop just because you’re leaving this morning.”

Jarrod stopped short at the harsh words. He tied the horse off to one side and started to unsaddle him. It had been this way for months. Nick’s anger had been right under the surface every time they had anything to do with one another. Jarrod tried again.

“I’m gonna miss you, little brother.”

The teenager didn’t even break rhythm or his silence.

“Nick, can’t you at least try to understand?” He didn’t want to leave like this. All his plea earned him was a grunt and a shrug of the shoulders.

Jarrod walked into the stall, making it impossible for the 16 year old to keep working. “Nick, please. Can’t you at least try to be happy for me? I’ve wanted this for a long time.” And he had. He’d known he wanted to go to college since he was twelve. He’d known he wanted to go to Harvard since he was sixteen. When Tom told him that he would have to wait until his brother was done with school, he’d wanted it badly enough to accept the two year delay. Tom Barkley was sending his son off to study Business, Jarrod was still working on how to study Law instead. He knew it was what he wanted just as surely as sixteen-year-old Nick knew that his life was on the ranch and would be until the day he died.

“NO! No Jarrod! I can’t! You belong here, not there.” He brushed by his older brother pushing him aside, stalking off before the tears he was blinking back spilled over. Jarrod looked after him. He tried to tell himself that Nick was still young and didn’t understand what he was doing and saying, but the rejection still hurt deeply.

Nick hadn’t come to breakfast and eventually Ciego had come to tell them that Coco wasn’t in his stall. Jarrod had hoped he would at least come to the station but eventually the train had pulled out leaving both of them with an emptiness that wouldn’t be filled for years to come.

Chapter 2

The afternoon in San Francisco was spent taking in the sights and clearing up a few last minute errands before they left the next morning on the coastal steamer that would take them south to Panama. The dock was crowded with passengers, mostly men, who were boarding for the four-week trip to New York. Tom would accompany Jarrod as far as Colon at the eastern terminus of the Panama Railroad, and then return home. He could ill afford to be gone the two and a half months a full round trip would take. There was too much work to be done before the fall round up and drive, but he also couldn’t send Jarrod off across country on his own. The compromise had been reached that Tom would accompany Jarrod through the most dangerous leg of the trip, the 47 mile train ride through the jungles of Panama. Jarrod, being young and invincible, had tried to convince his sire that it wasn’t necessary, but Victoria wouldn’t hear of him traveling alone.

As reluctant as Tom had been to leave, he had to admit to himself that seeing the jungle and taking the coastal steamer California would be a grand adventure. The leg from San Francisco to Panama City would take two weeks and the rail crossing a day or two, depending on the conditions. At least he and Jarrod shared that anticipation.

As they settled into their cabin, he tossed his carpet bag on the bed and looked out the window. “Don’t tell your Mother, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world!”

Jarrod’s heart skipped a beat, and he smiled, but all he said was “Oh?”

“I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ride the steamer and see Panama.” Tom smiled and winked at him.

“Oh, sure Father. I’m glad.”

Now what? What about his answer had deflated the boy’s enthusiasm? Some days he was just too damn temperamental.

Realizing that his response had revealed more than he wanted it to, he tried to recover and put on a false smile. In the meantime he chided himself for fostering the hope that his father had actually looked forward to just the two of them traveling together for two weeks. If Nick had been the son in attendance the two would probably be hanging over the railings, chattering excitedly about the design of the boat and the massive steam engine. He smiled at the mental image despite his disappointment.

The choice to take the route across Panama had been easy. The Overland Stage would have taken 21 days just to St. Louis and neither of them relished three weeks on a stagecoach sitting wedged between other people, though Jarrod would have done it if the water route hadn’t existed. For all its bad outcomes, the Gold Rush of 49 had at least done that bit of good. The Panama Railroad had been financed out of the pockets of the 49ers.

A knock on the cabin door and they were greeted by a boy of about 12. “I’m your cabin boy Sir! My name is Andy. Anything you need, you just call me.”

“Sure thing, Andy.” Tom Barkley smiled at the towhead.

“Oh, and we’ll be leaving soon, you might want to come watch as we pull away. It’s a grand sight.”

Jarrod hesitated then suggested, “If we take the lower deck forward we might be able to stop by the engine room.”

Tom raised an eyebrow in surprise but smiled all the same. “Why we might just at that. Let’s go!” He was out the door like an excited kid.

Tom and Jarrod stood on deck watching the Port of San Francisco recede. Eventually, like the other passengers, they wandered back to unpack and settle in. Jeremiah and Kathryn Porter were just leaving their stateroom when Tom and Jarrod exited from across the hall. Dinner was being served in the salon and everyone was expected to attend at the Captain would be greeting them. Though not a formal meal, it wasn’t casual either. The men were dressed in suits and the women in something more elegant than traveling attire. The Porters and the Barkleys found themselves seated at the same table. Still standing, Tom took the initiative and introduced himself and Jarrod.

“Why of course, Mr. Barkley, I’ve heard of your ranch in Stockton. I’m Jeremiah Porter and this is my wife, Kathryn.”

Tom took her hand and kissed it. “Mrs. Porter.”

“Kathryn, please.” She smiled prettily at him and turned to Jarrod. “Mr. Barkley, it’s a pleasure.” Jarrod shook her had and couldn’t help staring. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. “M’am, it’s my pleasure.”

“M’am! If you and I are going to be friends, you’d best not call me that!” Her smile took the sting out of her words. “How about you call me Kathryn and I’ll call you Jarrod?”

Jarrod nodded his head “Yes ma…..Kathryn, I’d like that.” He held her chair as she seated herself next to him at the table.

The Porters were obviously wealthy and just as obviously not from the west. Kathryn was a stunning woman and it was hard for Tom not to stare. He’d had ample time to observe her as the followed the couple to the dining room. She was tall and slender, graceful, and her voice was rich and musical with overtones of the south. The scent of lavender trailed behind her. Her hair was a deep chocolate brown with hints of red that caught the light. She wore it elegantly pinned at the nape of her neck with cascades of curls falling down.

All through the meal Jarrod difficulty controlling his gaze and found himself looking into her green eyes on more than one occasion. Whenever he did, he felt like he was falling into them. Once or twice he even found himself leaning into her before reason took over and he stopped himself. Seated as he was, beside her, he also had a view of the décolletage just hinted at by the lowcut neckline of her dress. The combination was having an unfortunate effect on him. As the meal progressed he was becoming more and more uncomfortable and wondered at how he would ever be able to stand up. Kathryn seemed oblivious to his discomfort and chatted with both the Barkleys amiably about the trip and their reasons for taking it. Laughing at something Jarrod said, she touched his arm and felt him jump slightly under her touch. The ache in his groin grew stronger.

“So you’re headed east for school, Jarrod?” Jeremiah asked as they waited for the waiter to pour their wine.

“Yessir. Harvard.” It was a relief to be able to focus on Mr. Porter and not on the woman sitting next to him.

“That’s an impressive school. Tell me, did you go to school in San Francisco?”

“No sir, in Stockton.”

“Really, I don’t know the private schools there. It must have been very good to get you into Harvard.” Porter’s endorsement of the school had Jarrod covertly looking at his father for a reaction. If there was one, Tom hid it well.

“I went to the town school, Mr. Porter.” Jarrod smiled while Tom stared.

Porter looked surprised. Tom and Jarrod didn’t flaunt it, but they were wealthy. Porter was familiar with the Barkley name and the extent of the business empire it encompassed. He turned to Tom and nodded. “Please, excuse me, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just assumed a man of your wealth would choose a private school education for his children.” He turned to Jarrod. “If you’ve been accepted at Harvard, there’s obviously nothing wrong with the education you received.”

Kathryn eased the awkwardness by changing the subject. “Tell me Mr. Barkley, why did you decide to take the coastal steamer?”

Chapter 3

Tom and Jeremiah hit it off right away and spent much of their free time onboard discussing western politics, business and the goings on in Washington. Porter gave Tom an excuse to put off talking to Jarrod about their relationship. The free time suited Jarrod who would have spent all of it reading if it hadn’t been for Kathryn. With her husband’s attention occupied, she turned to Jarrod for entertainment. At lunch on their third day out, she looked ruefully at the two older men and sighed. They were already deep into a debate over the issue of states rights.

“Jarrod, it would seem we are left to our own devices. Will you walk with me?” Following her gaze out to the sun drenched deck, he smiled and nodded.

“I’m at your service, Kathryn.” The said their goodbyes, barely noticed by the two men.

“So what are you reading now?” She knew that Jarrod spent much of his time on deck or in the lounge lost in books.

“The Iliad.”

“Ah, the fair Helen. ‘Was this the face that launched a thousand ships

And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?’” She smiled at him.

“You know it then?”

“Not all women are feather-headed, Jarrod.” She stared at him briefly and lifted one arched eyebrow.

“No! Please!” He was embarrassed at having given offense, “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that not many people like to read the classics.”

“I suppose you’re right. I was educated at a private girl’s school. They were required reading. I suppose they wanted to stuff our brains before we left to become the ornaments of wealthy men.” This time it was Jarrod’s turn to stare.

“Somehow I can’t imagine anyone treating you as an ornament.”

“Thank you. That may be the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a very long time.”

They walked along the deck and stopped at the rail. She leaned in to him, closer than was necessary to be heard above the wind and the gulls. “So tell me Jarrod. Do you think there could be a woman beautiful enough to start a war over?” She stared into his eyes and laid her hand across his.

“I, ummm, I …..” He swallowed and caught his breath. “Oh, I’m sure there are. Quite sure.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” An hour later, Jarrod was sitting at a table in the lounge sipping coffee with Kathryn.

“Well, I won’t promise to answer….” She was being coy with him, something she’d been dong more and more.

“What do you think of the chance of war coming between the North and the South?”

It was probably the last thing she had expected him to ask her. “You’ve been reading too much Homer.”

“No! Really Kathryn, I want to know.” There was no guile behind the blue eyes, so she thought for a minute and then sighed.

“The way things are going I’m afraid that war can’t be avoided. There have been too many rash decisions on both sides of the issue. I’m afraid that if Mr. Lincoln is elected President, you and I will end up on the opposite sides of a conflict that neither of us wants.”

Jarrod considered her words. “Then you think that emancipation is wrong? That slavery should be allowed.” He was watched her closely, not wanting someone he liked so much to hold views he found abhorrent.

“No, I don’t. My family hasn’t owned slaves for three generations and neither has Jeremiah’s. But both of us believe that forcing the southern states to capitulate is a mistake. There is a streak of stubbornness there that the government in Washington just doesn’t understand. Though it might be slower and less appealing morally, letting the issue come to a vote in individual states is the only way to maintain the peace.”

“So you think it’s a State’s Rights issue?” His eyes sparked with interest to hear what she had to say. The way he watched her…she knew he was genuinely interested in her opinion….sent a shiver through her.

“No, I don’t think it should be, but I think that’s the only way that we are going to avoid going to war, brother fighting brother.” A thought occurred to her and she looked at him in alarm.

“Jarrod, you’re going East to college. You’re not thinking of joining the army, are you?”

He couldn’t look her in the eye. “I plan on enrolling at Harvard in September.”

She placed a finger under his chin and used it to raise his face so she could see his eyes. “Do you plan on staying in school?”

“I don’t know. Right now my plans are a little up in the air.” That wasn’t the impression Tom gave them.

After a short silence, Kathryn suggested, “Let’s go see if we can roust those two out for tea on deck.”

Though Tom warmed to Jeremiah immediately, there was something about Kathryn that he just didn’t like. It was nothing overt, just a feeling that something wasn’t right. There was a formality between the Porters that made Tom wonder about their marriage. Jeremiah wouldn’t be the first man to marry a much younger woman then be unable to satisfy her as a husband. It hadn’t passed him by that she seemed to be spending most of their social time together in the company of his son. Jarrod was clearly taken with her. What young man wouldn’t be? She was older but not old, beautiful, and had a definite air of desirability about her. Tom had even found himself dreaming about her, with embarrassing results. His own attraction had him watching her and that was when he noticed the subtle way she was drawing Jarrod in with her smiles, laughing at his jokes, the occasional touch on his arm. He needed to have a talk with his son before there was trouble.

“Darling, there you are!” Kathryn called out to Jeremiah as she and Jarrod crossed the deck. Jarrod had given her his arm as they strolled.

“Young man, I have to thank you for keeping my wife company while your father and I ramble on about this and that.”

“He’s been a fine companion. Are you two joining us for tea?” She smiled prettily at Tom.

“No, no thank you. Jarrod and I have a few things to talk over.”

Tom stood in their cabin and ran frustrated fingers through his hair. “Look Jarrod, I’m not saying there’s been anything going on between you and her. It’s just that I want you to be careful, find another way to occupy yourself. I don’t trust her!” He was talking to his son’s back. From the rigid posture and the clenched fists, Tom knew his words were falling on deaf ears.

“Well I do, Father! And since you and Mr. Porter seem to find one another’s company more interesting that your own family members, there aren’t too many other alternatives for either of us in the way of company.”

The California wasn’t big on social amenities, but there was a lounge and the outdoor space for the travelers to use in passing time. Jarrod took to sitting outside reading his books avoiding both Kathryn and Tom. They typically stopped in a small port once a day for a couple of hours. The two Barkley men would spend time walking the streets of the town, working off some of the frustration of being cooped up onboard ship. On this particular day though, Jarrod decided to stay behind. He and Tom had argued that morning about his course of studies. When Jarrod had mentioned taking some Law courses Tom had bristled.

“Look Jarrod, I’m the one paying for this fancy expedition of yours, and as long as that’s true you’ll get a degree in what I tell you to.” Kathryn had been standing just out of sight and smiled when she heard the ultimatum. What a fool Tom Barkley was. She waited until Jarrod stalked off to the lounge then followed him. Giving him a minute or two to calm down, she quietly walked up and took the chair beside him. There was no one else in the room and she smiled and greeted him, “Good Morning Mr. Barkley. Is that a frown I detect?” Her voice was low-pitched with a southern lilt to it, smoldering and delicious like the feel of well aged cognac as you sip it and the fire it lights runs through you.

Jarrod blushed. He hadn’t been aware his emotions were showing. She smiled and patted his hand. “Don’t worry, it’s not that obvious, I’m just good at reading people.” He smiled at her then and her breath caught in her chest. He really was quite handsome, with the most enticing blue eyes and a smile that was filled with warmth. Those eyes would break hearts someday.

Jarrod considered excusing himself, knowing that Tom would be unhappy if he saw them together. Then he thought, “To hell with my father! I’ll spend time with whomever I want.” She spent an hour reading with him, sipping coffee and occasionally chatting about their travels. As the time went by, she would look him in the eye more and more often. At one point she dropped her book and he bent to the side to pick it up. She timed their collision perfectly so that his face ended up in her bosom. Blushing furiously, Jarrod stammered out an apology. He wasn’t any stranger to women, he’d been to the saloon on more than one occasion and used the services of the girls there. But all in all, he was completely inexperienced in the ways of this type of woman. Their status in Stockton had acted as something of a shield, there weren’t many who risk the wrath of Tom Barkley by trying to entrap his son or use him as a toy.

As he tried to make some sense, she reached over and took his hand in hers. “It’s okay Jarrod, it was my fault.”

Relief that she wasn’t angry was obvious in his face. Also obvious was the effect that having his face buried in her cleavage had caused. He tried vainly to hide his excitement with his book, but failed. Her gaze settled on the evidence and she smiled. Meeting his eyes again, she ran a finger up his inner thigh and along the length of his hardness, coming to rest with her palm pressed where he was most sensitive.

He stared at her, eyes wide in shock, unable to speak, not believing what was happening. Her palm pressed harder, rubbing slightly up and down and he shuddered as it sent a wave of desire through him. A groan escaped as his excitement grew and his breathing became ragged. He felt himself harden under her sure hand, felt his heat and desire grow as well.

“You like that?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. Such a handsome young man, but obviously not very experienced. She didn’t imagine a town such as Stockton gave much opportunity for this sort of thing. She wondered if he was a virgin, decided not and was sad. That would have been perfect.

Her hand moved up and down caressing the fine wool of his pants, teasing him. After only a few minutes she began to feel him tremble. He gritted his teeth as the burn began. Realizing what he was letting happen, he tried to stop her but she refused to move her hand away and soon he was torn with spasms of intense pleasure. She watched the look of mixed pain and pleasure on his face. They had another week on the boat. This was going to be fun. She and Jeremiah had reached an understanding early on. She loved him, but he was 20 years her senior. He allowed her to indulge in her dalliances as long as they were discrete and short lived. She had discovered that she had a taste for young and inexperienced men, who she could introduce to certain pleasures they might not have come across.

Once he was finished, Jarrod collapsed back against the lounge chair. His heart was still racing and he felt the uncomfortable wetness begin to soak through his long johns. Blushing deeply, he stammered out “I…I need to go….” The woman with the mesmerizing green eyes smiled at him, gave his manhood a last squeeze as it softened, and stood up. “Of course you do my dear, we’ll see each other later.”

The boat docked shortly after noon. Jarrod declined an expedition ashore with Tom. They would spend the next day having some minor repairs made so there would be opportunity to go ashore later. Right now he wanted as much distance from his father as he could get.

“Come on, Jarrod. Don’t be like this.”

“Like what, Father?” He was standing by the railing looking out towards the opening to the little harbor where they’d sheltered. Tom didn’t see the white knuckle grip that his oldest son had on the railing.

“You’re pouting because of this morning. It’s not the behavior I expect out of a man your age.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that’s the issue isn’t it, father?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Why you expect to be able to dictate to, as you put it, a man my age, what the rest of my life will be about.” Jarrod cringed inwardly, even as the words left his lips. He was so tired of having Tom Barkley run his life. “It’s not enough for you that I put off my dream for two years until Nick got old enough to help you run the ranch. Now that you have your rancher son, you find it necessary to fashion me into something you consider second best but still useful to you.”

“Second best….useful…what are you talking about? You’re the one who wants to go east to college.” Tom was too stunned to be angry.

“That’s right, Father, me, my dream, my life, but only if I live them on your terms. Study what you want, justify your investment. As far as you’re concerned I should have grown up to be a rancher. Lucky for both of us Nick came along. At least you can write me off without worrying that there’ll be no one to carry on the family legacy and make you proud.”

“Is that what you think I’ve done? Written you off? If that were true why would I be here, why would I be paying for this trip and that fancy education you want? Is it unreasonable for me to want to get something back out of it?”

“Why are you here? I don’t know. I hoped it was because you wanted to spend some time with me before I leave for two years…hoped that you might actually miss me. I guess….” Jarrod’s voice cracked and Tom could see his shoulders shaking, but then he took a deep breath and straightened them. “I guess you felt you needed to protect your investment.” He paused again and then continued. “So how will the accounting be done, Father? Am I going to be given a dollar amount that I have to put on the books and then my debt to you will be paid? Or is this something I’ll just be reminded of periodically over the rest of my life?”

The bitterness in Jarrod’s voice had grown and grown until Tom thought he couldn’t even recognize his son in it anymore. Tears came, unbidden to his eyes and uncharacteristically he put his hand on the back that was turned to him. “Jarrod, I…you’re not an investment. You’re my son.”

“Just not the son you wanted.” Tom’s hand slipped from his back and Jarrod heard his boot heels on the deck as he walked away.

Chapter 4

Jarrod stayed rooted by the railing, trying to control his emotions. He couldn’t believe that he’d spoken to his father that way and was mystified that he hadn’t found himself laid out on the deck for it.

Jarrod had never been afraid of Tom. Unlike a lot of their friends, their father had never been one to use a lot of physical discipline with his sons. He preferred the loss of privileges and his favor. Over the years it had served him well and neither of the boys had ever gotten into serious trouble.

In the last two years Jarrod had stopped being afraid of Tom’s disapproval, at least he thought he had. He’d decided that if worse came to worse he could find a job and support himself doing ranch work or something else, maybe something that would use his education. When Tom had told him he had to wait to go to college, he’d even thought about leaving then, thinking he could work at a bank and read Law in San Francisco. But he couldn’t do it. No matter that he was 18, a part of him had still wanted his father to be proud of him. And it was just as true two years later, when friends he’d grown up with were married with families and other responsibilities. He was still living his life by Tom’s rules, held hostage by his desire to go to college.

He knew that Tom wouldn’t tolerate the kind of disrespect he’d just shown and in the corner of his mind a worry began to grow that the price would be his education. His mind began to work at a furious pace to figure out his options, when a throaty voice quietly spoke from behind him.

“You didn’t go ashore with your father.”

He turned to find himself staring into her green eyes.

“You look upset Jarrod. Did you have a disagreement with your father?” He let out the breath he’d been holding and returned to looking at the water. She moved to stand beside him at the railing.

“It’s nothing important.”

“Such loyalty.” Her hand touched his chin lightly and turned his gaze to meet hers. “But you are an awful liar. It’s written on your face. Tell me about it.” The warmth of her smile eased a knot of tension somewhere inside him. He desperately needed to unburden himself. His blue eyes swum with wetness and she could tell it embarrassed him to be so emotional. As much as she wanted him, she also felt something more... he was too young to be so troubled.

“I’m heading for college at Harvard. Father wants me to get a business degree.” He said with such an air of resignation that she knew that was the problem.

“And what do you want to study?”

“Law.”

“I take it he doesn’t approve?” She said it quietly, laying her hand on his arm. Looking back out to sea, lost in the memories of the fight earlier that day, he never even felt it. Under her touch she could feel the rigid muscles as he remembered.

Jarrod snorted. “That would be an understatement. He doesn’t see how he would get back his investment from a son who is a Lawyer.” There was so much bitterness in those words.

“Oh, Jarrod, I’m sorry.” She took the hand that grasped the railing in both of hers and tugged him toward her. Placing one had on his cheek, she told him “Fathers and sons often disagree, especially when a son is trying to be his own man. Don’t doubt that he loves you, is proud of you even if he can’t show it. I can see it in his face.”

“No!” It was quiet but adamant. “He’ll never be proud of me. I was supposed to be a rancher, the eldest son who follows in his father’s footsteps to run the empire.”

“And now?” It was hard not to like this young man. He had an air of vulnerability about him that tugged at her heart. And yet he was determined to be who he wanted to be and not who his father dictated. She couldn’t help but admire him for it.

“Now, my brother Nick has filled that role and I’m simply a bad investment to be salvaged.” He continued to stare across the water and they stood in silence. She watched his jaw work and his throat convulse as he fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him.

They were standing between one of the life boats, and a locker, a small nook that afforded privacy. She stood beside him quietly as he drifted with his own thoughts. The wind whipped up and she shivered. Jarrod was shaken from his reverie by the feeling of her shaking beside him.

“Here. Take this. He removed his jacket and placed it on her shoulders.

“Thank you.” She pulled it close around her and leaned into him, turning slightly.

Looking down into her green eyes, suddenly Jarrod felt himself warm. The memories of this morning shot into his mind. He’d been so wrapped up in his misery that he hadn’t even thought about what she’d done. A flush crept up his cheeks even as his manhood stirred.

Kathryn caught the rush of blood to his face and smiled inwardly. She turned a bit more. To the world they looked like a man and woman talking, him looking out on the water, her with her back to the railing. The hand resting on the railing in front of him brushed against his stomach and finding the opening, crept slowly into his shirt. Soft finger tips danced over the smooth skin and tight muscles of his stomach. He would never have the thick hair that some men did, but there was a trail that she played with, leading upward. Unbuttoning as she went, her hand worked its way up to his nipples, brushing and stroking them until they hardened, then playing with the hard nubs until he groaned with desire and his manhood hardened painfully.

She leaned in a little closer and he caught the scent of jasmine in her hair, as well the scent of desire. His groin twitched.

Her hand abandoned the sensitive nubs on his chest and made its way down to the bulge that strained at the buttons of his pants. “Hold still.” She pressed into him as she had earlier that day and his hips jerked forward in unconscious desire. He groaned as his breathing became ragged and shallow. “You must hold still.”

His desire to was impossible to deny and his hips began to move. “Don’t ! Someone will notice. You must stay still and let me do it.” He nodded, his ragged breathing making speech impossible. It seemed like an eternity but then he felt the burn begin and he knew his time was up. There was a strangled cry and he was shuddering all over. Finally he was able to take in enough air to speak. His eyes were dark with lust and they bored into her depths.

“I want you!”

“All in good time, we have a few more days…” She had plans for him and intended to enjoy herself.

Tom stayed in town for dinner leaving Jarrod to fend for himself. Glad that he wouldn’t have to face his father across the dinner table, he decided he could eat whatever fare the crew was having or go into town and scare up a meal. The second option seemed far more appealing, so he washed up and made for the dock, running into Jeremiah and Kathryn as they were about to venture out for their own evening meal.

“Jarrod, would you and your father care to join us?” Jarrod could barely conceal his discomfort as he talked to the two. That and being around Kathryn was having an embarrassing effect on him.

“N…no thank you, Sir. Father is already in town, I’m meeting him later. I hope you enjoy your supper!” He left as quickly as he could given his somewhat stiff and awkward gait. Once he’d rushed down the gangway, he headed for the busier part of town, assuming there would be at least one reasonable restaurant where he could have a meal and a drink.

Tom made his way back to the steamer. It was late and he’d stayed gone all day, not really wanting to come back and deal with Jarrod. As much as he wanted to be angry at the boy…no the young man…. he couldn’t. However wrong Jarrod might be about Tom’s love, he wasn’t wrong about how Tom felt towards his oldest son’s choice of a future. He’d spent a lot of time walking and thinking about what Jarrod had said. It was true, he wanted his oldest son to embrace his dream and he’d completely discounted any dreams of his own in the process. Jarrod hadn’t turned out to be the son he wanted. Nothing short of a rancher would have made him happy. He’d never given weight to anything but his own expectations when it came to that. The knowledge of how much he done to hurt his son shamed him and he hadn’t been able to come back and face his guilt. Instead he’d gone to one of the non-descript bars along the wharf and drowned it in a tankard.

But it was late and time to get back. He hoped they’d fed Jarrod decently onboard. He walked into the cabin and found it empty. The clothes of earlier in the day lay across Jarrod’s bunk and checking, he realized that his son had put on town clothes. Damn! He’d left the boat on his own. Now where was he? Didn’t he know it was dangerous?

Suddenly he was brought up short by the realization that men of Jarrod’s age had families and owned businesses. He didn’t seem to be able to let go of treating his eldest like a child, much more so than Nick. It was unfair. Jarrod had a good solid head on his shoulders. It was the choice to go to college that drove him. Tom realized that in the back of his mind he held onto the idea that Jarrod’s desires were the product of an immature mind and he’d “grow out of” his desire to do something other than be a rancher. He sat heavily on the bunk and thought to go looking, but then realized that having his father track him down like a wayward child would only make things worse. He undressed and lay on the bed, waiting for his son to return. Somewhere in the wee hours he fell asleep.

The sun rose and with it Tom Barkley. Even an evening of drinking couldn’t keep him from rising at first light. He stood up, expecting to find the form of his sleeping son in the other bunk, but that wasn’t the case. Jarrod’s bed hadn’t been slept in. Frowning, he pulled on last night’s clothes and made his way to the head. Looking over Jarrod’s berth and his belongings once again he headed for the Captain’s quarters to ask for help.

“Mr. Barkley, your son is 20, don’t you remember being that age and wanting to cut loose? He’ll be back.”

“Captain Roberts, you don’t understand. Jarrod is the last person who would ‘cut loose’. Sometimes he drives me crazy with how serious he is. Something has happened and I need to find him.”

They argued for another few minutes and reluctantly Tom agreed to wait until 10AM, giving Jarrod time to wake up from whatever hangover he’d incurred and make his way back to the boat. When the appointed hour has passed, and half of another one, Tom was back at the Captain’s door. Three crew members were sent out to help him search.

Tom was just leaving one of the taverns that never closed, when the cabin boy, Andy came running up to him. Mr. Barkley! Quick come back to the boat. They just brought Mr. Jarrod back!”

Tom got as many details as the boy had while they rushed back. The Captain spotted him as he came up the gangway and stopped him before he rushed off to their cabin. “He’s in the infirmary Mr. Barkley.” His arm pointed the way and the rancher was off before he could utter another word.

Tom burst through the door and stopped dead as he filled the small room. John Pickney, the doctor from town was sitting on a chair beside Jarrod’s unconscious form as he lay on the bed pale and in obvious pain.

“Jarrod!” The doctor moved out of the way and let Tom sit down. “What is it, what happened?”

“As near as we can tell he was beaten, robbed and dumped in the water. Luckily he landed on a floating piece of wood or he would have drowned.”

“How is he?”

“Pretty knocked around, looks like a few cracked ribs and some bad bruises that I hope are nothing worse. Plus a nasty knock on the head. The most serious thing is his lungs. He was in the water all night and he’s taken in a lot of dirty water. We’ll have to hope he doesn’t come down with pneumonia.”

They had stripped Jarrod of his clothes and retrieved a night shirt from the cabin. The white linen of the sleepshirt only served to emphasize the paleness of his skin and the blue tinge to his lips and nail beds. He shivered under the blankets that were piled on him.

Tom looked at the doctor who nodded his head. “He’s pretty cold, I’ve got the galley heating up some bricks to wrap and put in with him.” On cue the mate entered carrying the felt wrapped blocks and the doctor placed them at points where their heat would help the most. Within minutes Jarrod started to warm up, his shivering fading away.

“Has he been awake?”

“The men who found him said he came to long enough to tell them who you were and where to find you, but then he passed out again. It’s a good sign though, that he was aware enough to do that.” The doctor reassured Tom and then started to clear everyone else out of the room. “Call me when he wakes up, or if you’re worried. I’m going to go get some food.”

Tom sat with Jarrod, thinking about the fight they’d had and how close he’d come to losing him. Lost in these thoughts he didn’t notice Jarrod waking up until he forced out a shaky “Father…”

“Son. Good to see those eyes open.” He smiled and laid a hand on Jarrod’s shoulder.

“What happened?” Jarrod started coughing and gasped in pain as the spasms strained his cracked ribs.

“Hold on.” He slid and arm behind the younger man and raised him up, letting him lean forward against his bigger frame. Grabbing a spare pillow, he used it to support the damaged ribs while Jarrod leaned against his shoulder and coughed. When the fit was finally over Jarrod’s head collapsed on his shoulder. Before long his breathing evened out and Tom laid his sleeping son back down.

An hour later Jarrod woke again. This time Tom was there with water before he could set off another coughing fit. “Enough?” He lowered the glass and set it back on the table and laid a hand across his son’s forehead to check for fever. Satisfied that none was present he settled back in the chair by the bed. “What happened Jarrod?”

“I was going to ask you.”

“Don’t you remember anything?” Tom frowned. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Jarrod closed his eyes trying to make some sense of the wisps of memory he conjured up. He was that way for so long, Tom began to think that he’d drifted off to sleep, but then he said, “I had dinner at a café then decided to walk around town. I heard a woman scream. It was coming from an alley. I went to check it out and that’s all I remember.”

Chapter 5

The coastal steamer ran weekly, plying the trade between Panama and San Francisco with stops at smaller towns along the way. It was the main source of goods from the East and the most comfortable route from East to West and back again, across the continent. The attack on Jarrod left him with a mild case of pneumonia that had begun to develop early the same day he was found.

“Mr. Barkley, I recommend you stay here at least a week and let him get better.” Tom and the doctor were talking quietly in the corner, keeping watch over Jarrod as his fever climbed and his breathing took on the labored quality that Tom remembered so well from his son’s youth.

He moved to the bed and unbuttoned the nightshirt, watching his son breath, his heart almost stopping as the chest sank with every breath instead of expanding. His mind flashed back to the first time Jarrod had come down with the pneumonia. It had been years since Jarrod’s last run in with the deadly disease but some memories never leave you.

He remembered the two of them up all night, desperate to help their child breathe.

“Tom! We have to do something. He can barely breathe. Oh god Tom! He’s going to die, isn’t he?” Her eyes were wide and verging on panic. He placed his ear to the chest and heard the sucking sound as the four year old struggled to pull in air. Victoria sat on the other side of their bed and held his hand, murmuring comforting words as the tears rolled down her face.

“Vic, you have to get a hold of yourself. You ain’t gonna do Jarrod or the baby any good if you fall apart.” For a minute he thought she was going to fly at him in a rage but then she harnessed the emotions that were raging through her and clamped an iron hand on them. If he hadn’t known it before, in that moment Tom Barkley knew that he had married an extraordinary woman as he glimpsed the iron at her core.

Victoria took a few more shaky breaths and wiped the tears from her eyes. “We need to help him breathe, he can’t get in any air.” She moved to the head of the bed and lifted the slim shoulders off the mattress. The bulk of her nine months pregnancy didn’t let her cradle him against her chest so she turned sideways and held him upright against her side.

She and Tom had traded off, holding him up and clapping his back to loosen the thick mucus that threatened to drown their son in his own secretions. The heat had poured off the little body and the slender frame would convulse in his arms, trying to cough up the ropey phlegm. There were times when he couldn’t understand how his boy was still alive, where the fight was coming from to stay alive. The worst was when he was beyond even struggling, lying in his father’s arms, staring blankly at him, barely able to take in air. Those were they days when Jarrod still thought his father ruled the sun and stars and to see the trust gone out of his eyes had torn at Tom’s soul.

Tom hunched over Jarrod, holding a cup of cool water to his lips. “Drink some son, just a sip.” Jarrod tried. He wanted to do it for his father but he just couldn’t. The water ran down his windpipe and triggered another round of coughing, but this time they were weak, half-hearted attempts at best. Tom’s heart raced, his son’s body was losing the fight.

“Damn you Jarrod, you are not going to die!” He clapped and clapped against the bony back, willing the mess to come out. He worked like a demon, cursed God and the Devil alike. He refused to give up. In the end he beat the muck out of his son’s chest through sheer willpower. Jarrod would be bruised and sore for weeks afterwards, but he lived.

The crisis was past in two days, though it had seemed like much longer. Neither of them slept, the ranch work ground to a standstill. Tom almost cried the first time his son opened his startlingly blue eyes and said “Papa!” even though it was just a whisper.

Tom moved to bed and lifted Jarrod upright, settling in beside him and pulling his son’s smaller frame to his chest. When the doctor returned to check on his patient just before supper, he found Tom supporting the muscular shoulders with one arm and the basin with the other as Jarrod coughed and struggled to clear his lungs.

“Is there a hotel we can stay at Doctor?”

“Not that I’d recommend. I’d like you to stay at my house. We have extra bedrooms. You wouldn’t be the first.”

Tom looked at the man and nodded. He didn’t want to impose but it was that or continue on and find lodging at the next city. Jarrod needed rest and care now. They had him moved within the hour and Tom came back to the boat to find Kathryn in their stateroom packing their belongings.

“I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to do something to help. How is he?” Her eyes held an unguarded honesty and concern that he hadn’t seen in them since they’d started the journey. He let out the breath that he’d been about to use in yelling at her for being so bold.

“Pretty sick. But the doc says he’ll make it if he rests. We’ll stay this week and maybe next.”

“Jeremiah and I would be glad to stay if you want some help caring for him.”

Tom was stunned by the offer. “Th..thank you….I….no there’s no need.” He held her hand and squeezed it in gratitude. “Forgive me if this sounds rude, but why would you do such a thing for people you barely know.”

Kathryn debated with herself how to answer. The silence stretched on until Tom thought that she wasn’t going to. “He reminds me of someone who was quite dear to me when I was much younger.”

Tom waited. She sighed and continued. “My brother. He left home at about the same age as Jarrod.”

“Where is he?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. We never heard from him again. I’m afraid my father drove him away.”

Tom’s chest began to constrict. “How?”

“Patrick wanted to be an Architect. My father wanted him to join the family business. Finally he left when my father refused to send him to college in Europe to study the great buildings” She could see Patrick pouring over his books, calling her to come look at some detail of one of the great Cathedrals of Europe. When he talked about buildings he made them sound like living breathing things that had heart and soul. His face was never so alive when he would take up his duties at the bank each day. Why had their father never seen it? “I’d like to think that he got to do what he wanted.”

Kathryn had finished packing the clothes into the two valises and snapped them shut. On the way out the door she turned to Tom. “This may be your last chance Tom. It’s time to decide which is more important to you, your son or your pride.”

They settled in at the Pickney’s house, with Tom and Ada, the doctor’s wife, tending to Jarrod. He slept almost non stop for four days, waking only long enough to drink a little water or broth. Tom spent the days asleep and the nights sitting at his son’s side.

Finally, just as the sun was beginning to stream through the lace curtains on the fourth morning, Tom heard a raspy voice from the bed. “Father?.....”

“Welcome back son.” He picked up the glass of water by the bed and held it up so Jarrod could drink. After a few sips he nodded.

“Where?”

“We’re still in Martha’s Cove, at the doctor’s house. You’ve been pretty sick and we decided you’d be better off here to get better than in some hotel room in the jungle.

Jarrod nodded. “…long?...”

“Four days.” Jarrod’s eyes seemed to search the room then widened in alarm. They’d missed the boat when it left. He started to struggle, distraught that his chance at Harvard was gone. His chances of arriving before the term began were slim.

“Calm down, Jarrod!” Tom didn’t know what he’d said that had upset him so much. Soon the exertion brought on a fit of coughing and Tom was helping a panicked Jarrod sit up and try to get enough air to clear his airway. He watched as his son’s lips began to turn blue and his eyes lost focus. Then out of nowhere John Pickney was there with a rubber suction bulb. He tilted Jarrod’s head back onto his father’s shoulder and used the bulb to suck at the sticky mess lodged in his windpipe. It took several rounds, but suddenly there was a whoosh of air as the failing lungs were finally able to suck in life-giving oxygen. Pickney worked a little longer, finally satisfied that the danger was past.

“We’ll prop him up for now. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Tom could only nod, still shaking from the brush with death. They settled Jarrod against the pillows and Ada stayed with him while John poured Tom a drink in his study. “I thought he was getting better.”

“He is Tom, most of that mess coming up was because he’s getting better. We’ll just have keep him propped up for the next few days. I’m sorry, I know that was close.”

The next few days saw Jarrod awake more and more. Finally he was allowed out of bed and Tom found him sitting on the verandah one day. “For someone who’s on the mend you don’t look too happy.”

“I’m fine, Father.” Tom sighed, they were back to that. He’d thought that the last few days might have helped mend the gulf between them, but apparently not.

“Doc says you can travel in a few days. The next boat is due through in two.” The reaction Tom got wasn’t at all what he expected.

“Yessir, if you say so.” He blinked back tears. Tom sat on bedside, confused.

“Don’t you want to go?”

Jarrod shook his head. “I should be happy just be alive, but I really wanted to go to college. I’ll be okay.”

Tom’s hand landed on his son’s shoulder and prevented him from turning away. “You are going to college, just two weeks later than expected. I’ve wired ahead and they agreed to the delay.”

“I thought…”

“I’m sorry, son.” He shook his head, cursing himself for yet another missed communication between them. Damn! Why does this have to be so hard? “I should have said something. Forgive me.”

For the first time in years, Jarrod Barkley reached out and hugged his father with the heartfelt warmth that he’d had as a child. The muffled “Thank you” that came from Tom’s shirt was music to his ears.

They boarded the steamer two weeks to the day after Jarrod’s assault. The last week of the trip down the coast was spent getting to know each other again. They had been politely estranged for so long that Tom barely knew the man his son had become. Jarrod had missed growing into a more adult relationship with Tom. Now that Tom was taking the time, he discovered that he had bred someone passionate and intelligent, still a bit naïve, but with the same sense of excitement for the world and what it had to offer that had spurred him to come West. They talked about the ranch, politics, religion and the war that was brewing in the East.

“I want you to stay out of it Jarrod. It’s not our fight.”

In that brief week on board the boat they discovered a lot in common and many surprises in each other. Still the tentative reconciliation was held back by what they avoided. Neither had forgotten the ugly truth about his feelings that Jarrod had laid out. Neither was willing to bring it up, so it hung in the air between them. Still, by the end of the trip Jarrod was torn between turning around and returning home with the possibility of reconciling with Tom, and continuing on to pursue his dream.

The boat docked late in Panama City and the passengers spent that last night on board. By eight the next morning they were pulling out of the railroad station and into a sea of lush green vegetation the likes of which neither had ever seen. The heat and humidity were oppressive and it didn’t take long for any pretense at civility to fall away. All the men sat with their jackets off, shirt sleeves rolled up and their collars undone. The few women making the trip discretely excused themselves and removed petticoats and corsets, stuffing them into their traveling bags. Tom was uncomfortable on the hard wooden bench. He stared out the window and tried to catch what little relief the breeze provided. Jarrod tried to lose himself in one of his text books.

“What are you reading son?”

“Tariff Law.”

“Law…..Jarrod, you should be studying for your business courses so you’re not so far behind.”

“But…”

“Jarrod, use your head, you need to be concentrating on your degree.” The thunder clouds built behind Tom’s eyes.

“No Sir, I don’t want a Business degree, I want a Law degree.”

“What?! I thought we had settled this.”

“Father, how can we settle something we’ve avoided talking about?”

“Jarrod, the bottom line here is that the only way I could guarantee you entry into Harvard late this semester was as a Business student. I’m afraid if you want to go to college that’s your only choice.”

“Did you even ask the Law school?”

Tom looked him in the eye. “No, I took the first yes I could get. I thought it would be enough for you at this point that you would get to go.”

“I….I….” Jarrod swallowed his anger. He knew that his father had done him a service even if it wasn’t entirely what he wanted. “Thank you, sir.” They rode the rest of the day in silence, both of them trying to sort through the mixed emotions of the last month. Neither was happy with the way things were being left.

Standing on the dock in Colon, Tom Barkley shook his son’s hand. “Well that’s it then Jarrod. Your bags are stowed. You take care of yourself on the rest of the trip. And remember, the college surgeon expects to see you as soon as you arrive.”

“Yessir.”

“Take care of yourself son. I’ll miss you.” Tom could see the doubt in his son’s eyes and it hurt. Instead of letting go of the young man’s hand, he pulled him into a hug and held him there until the he felt the tension ease and his son’s arms returned the embrace.

“And I you, Father.” Suddenly two years seemed a long time. “Tell the family I send my love. Tell Nick….tell him I love him and I’ll write.”

“He knows it, Jarrod, he’s just young. A letter or two just to him would mean a lot.” They shook hands and Jarrod walked up the gangplank to the boat that would take him to New Orleans. From there he would take the train across the south and up the East coast to Boston. Fate would declare that Jarrod Barkley wouldn’t see his family again for six years. In that time he would live the life of a scholar, a soldier and a leader of men. Throughout those long lonely years, despite the distances that divided them, his family would be the rock that anchored him through some of the most trying times a man could know.

THE END